#for the record I think it's much more likely for bart to have read the manga

[justlikebart-allen]

this panel (from one minute war) has captivated me utterly. bart is naruto running. does naruto or some equivalent exist in the dcu? has bart seen naruto? is he doing the naruto run as a bit or does he genuinely find that a comfortable way to run? if naruto doesn't exist in the dcu, there is then the staggering implication that bart just runs like that naturally, which is actually the most hilarious option. who introduced bart to anime.

[suzukiblu]

Day twelve of fic NaNoWriMo, obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim waits until the next morning, after their latest Young Justice sleepover has both occurred and concluded, and catches Kon while Cissie is bullying Bart away from the pancake mix and taking over the kitchen for her and Cassie to make everyone breakfast. It’s their turn, which is for the best; last time was Kon and Suzie, and they’d absolutely wrecked the kitchen before finally confessing that Kon had never actually cooked before and Suzie didn’t know if she knew how to. 

Breakfast had been Pop-Tarts and it’d taken them two hours to clean up the kitchen. Tim had just decided not to ask questions, at that point. 

“I’ve got a summary of the intel you asked for,” Tim says, holding out his single-page “report” for Kon, tucked nice and neat into a manilla folder. Kon looks startled. 

“Huh?” he says, blinking down at the folder. 

“I looked into Tim Drake,” Tim clarifies. “Long story short, you’re in the clear. His grades are stable, his disciplinary record isn’t concerning, and his psychological profile falls within acceptable parameters. His mother passed away a couple years ago, but his father just got remarried and he and the stepmother aren’t involved in anything shady, there’s no other relatives or criminal associates on record, and the family business’s practices are only a little morally dubious, which in Gotham is practically sainthood, frankly. Maybe don’t accept any unsourced archeological finds from him if it comes up, but otherwise you should be good. Go ahead and make friends.” 

“Uh, right,” Kon says, a brief flash of embarrassment crossing his face as his ears redden. “Friends. Yeah. Uh–you seriously checked him out to Bat-standards that quick, though? Geez, man, you didn’t have to do that. I coulda waited a couple weeks.” 

“Just rearranged a little casework that wasn’t time-sensitive anyway,” Tim replies, repressing a wince. Maybe he should’ve padded the time a little more on this. He doesn’t want Kon to think he wasn’t taking his request seriously. “Also, he’s a civilian high school student with exactly two family members and a fairly small friend group. There weren’t a lot of rabbit holes to go down.” 

“I guess not,” Kon says, looking awkwardly at the folder for a moment before pushing it back towards him. “Uh. I don’t need to, like . . . read that or anything. If you say he’s good, I mean.” 

“You don’t?” Tim asks, a little mystified. Kon looks embarrassed again. 

“It’s weird enough asking for a background check on a dude who’s apparently just trying to be nice,” he says. “I’m not gonna read it if there’s nothing I actually need to know.” 

Tim blinks, still more mystified, though he’s not sure if it’s Kon turning down perfectly-presented intel on a stranger or Kon trusting his opinion enough to turn down that intel that’s doing it. 

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re sure.”

“Uh, yeah. You really didn’t have to rush it, though,” Kon says, still looking embarrassed; tucking a loose curl of hair behind his ear in incredibly distracting fashion that Tim has to struggle to not be distracted by with limited success. “Like–it’s cool of you, but I really could’ve waited a couple weeks. Like, he’s probably not gonna go full mask-off supervillain day one at the mall, you know?” 

“I had the time,” Tim says, still feeling a little odd. “And it’s better to know before you spend too much time around him anyway, isn’t it?” 

Also, better to know so Tim can progress on bribing Kon out of his shitty lab-life and into a cute little cul-de-sac somewhere. Or an apartment building. Or an apartment block. 

“I guess, yeah,” Kon says, his face inexplicably reddening. “Um. Yeah. Uh. Thanks, Rob.”

Then he zips off abruptly without another word, and Tim is left mildly bewlidered and looking at the empty space he was just standing in. 

“. . . you’re welcome,” he says after a moment, no less bewildered, and puts the report away. 

He doesn’t really get Kon as a person, sometimes, but at least this is another step forward on the plan. He still needs to talk it all out with him as Tim Drake and work him up to it, because even Kon’s very weird socialization clearly still thinks it’s kinda strange for somebody to just offer to rent an apartment for him out of the blue, but then again, maybe that’s just because he thought Tim might be a supervillain. Which Tim still isn’t, technically. He’s like, a proto-supervillain at best. And only when it comes to bank fraud and pre-planning, because if he’s learned anything from Bruce at all, it’s that being the most prepared person in a situation absolutely always pays off. 

Maybe he can get Kon to quit Cadmus completely, if he plays his cards right here. He’ll start with a place that Kon can commute from, or at least by pretending they’re looking for a place that Kon can commute from. Maybe Cadmus would actually fucking pay him more than a pittance and an expense account, then, and Kon could save up a little. Tim should look into what the other field agents get, actually, though chances are “free room and board” is probably on most of their paychecks too, since Cadmus more than likely made most of them too. 

Fucking shitty asshole cloning labs. 

Maybe Tim should actually bribe some lobbyists the next time clones’ rights come up in legislation. Or just as soon as he has Kon safe and settled and secure outside of Cadmus, whichever comes first. That would definitely be a good use of his trust fund. 

Or just all of Drake Industries’ profits for that quarter, depending on how effectively he can distract his dad for said quarter. 

Tim’s a reasonably resourceful person. He could work something out. 

Also, clones’ rights implies getting Cadmus potentially shut down or at least more closely monitored, and maybe conning Superman into paying back child support for being irresponsible with his DNA. An incredibly powerful alien specifically primed for the local environment absolutely should’ve known better than to not have something arranged in case of his death besides just letting someone bury him, of all things. Incredibly stupid idea on his part, frankly. Isn’t there an AI running the Fortress of Solitude, to say nothing of all the androids? He absolutely could’ve set up a failsafe to come collect his body and lock down the Fortress once it was inside. Not a perfect solution, obviously, but definitely a better one than “let Metropolis just do whatever they feel like”. 

Much better, in Tim’s opinion. 

Seriously. Kryptonians are basically invasive predators on Earth. Superman absolutely should’ve known better than to leave his own dead body lying around. Frankly, Tim’s disappointed in Bruce for that one. He really should’ve had a talk with Superman about that particular oversight before Kon even happened. Not that Tim’s complaining about Kon existing, but Kon is basically the best-case scenario they could’ve gotten out of that. What if somebody’d possessed Superman’s empty body? What if they’d stripped it for parts and made a whole army of Supermen? What if any fucking number of things had happened? 

There’d better be something in place now, is all Tim’s gonna say. 

. . . maybe he’ll set up a high-yield savings account for any potential future Kon 2.0’s, just in case Superman decides to be stupid again. Just make monthly deposits and let it all collect interest. Tim’s not ready to be a clone-dad, but he can get the groundwork going. 

Hell, maybe he’ll make a Kon 2.0 one day. 

. . . that is an insane person thought, Tim recognizes. And way farther down along the supervillain pipeline than he wants to be right now. 

Still, Kon’s a hybrid, so he’s probably infertile, right? Which means if he ever wants to have kids or anything, he’d need–

Oh god, Tim thinks, and immediately hides his bright red face behind his fake summary of his own life story. Okay. New thought processes. New thoughts. New . . . everything, at this point. New all-the-things. 

He’s sixteen, he reminds himself accusingly. There is absolutely nothing about the idea of Kon with a little Kryptonian-ish baby that should appeal to him at all at this stage in his life. 

Just, well, his inner future supervillain apparently has a thing for punk telekinetic DILFs, he guesses. 

Well, given the timeline he’s intending to go supervillain on–

If Tim ever meets a telepath, he thinks he should probably just quit, actually. Like, for good. There is no possible way it wouldn’t end in absolute mortification. 

Oh god, Dubbilex is a telepath, isn’t he. Tim is never going to be able to be in the same room with the man again without employing every possible meditation technique he knows, because otherwise his brain is just going to be screaming about what Kon looks like soaked in Kool-Aid with his hair slicked back. Or how he smirks when he’s flirting with a civilian stranger at a café. Or the mental image of him in a crop top and Daisy Dukes version of his superhero costume, ngh–

Tim can definitely just never be in the same room with Dubbilex again. Or Martian Manhunter. Or maybe just anyone. 

Dammit.

[hyperfixatedimagines]

Home for the Holidays Ch.1

Summary: Your family didn't take your coming out well....and instead of spending the holiday alone you join your roommate for Christmas dinner. While Aemond wishes you set your sights on his sister Helaena, your tastes skew much older. 

A/N: This is a modern!au milf Alicent x milf lover f!reader. It was supposed to be finished last December lol. It got really long so I broke it into two chapters. It will be smutty, so read with caution if that’s not your thing! Not really smut in part one though. 

A/N pt. 2: In this story two of Alicent’s cousins are her older brothers and Baela is not Helaena’s cousin. Not canon compliant.

You knew the holidays were going to be rough this year but had not anticipated just how hard seeing pictures of your family in St. Barts without you would be. 

They had not taken your coming out well. 

Sure they had promised to keep paying the tuition to your very expensive university until you graduated but that did little to soothe the hurt that their disapproval caused. Your family came from old money, some of the oldest of old in the country, and with that came old ways of thinking. They didn't care that you were gay, plenty of people in your extended family were some form of fruit, but they all stayed in the closet- at least publicly. That was what your family wanted for you as well. Anything to not tarnish their image. 

But you couldn't live that way any longer. You wanted to be free. 

To your surprise, only your estranged cousin Elia had accepted and even celebrated your coming out of the closet. 

Thankfully you had Aemond. The two of you had met in freshman history class. He argued with the professor over every historical inconsistency in his lectures and it drove the professor mad. It made you laugh though. Aemond also came from old money, so the two of you bonded over the pressures that came from families that expected you to be perfect. Sophomore year the two of you moved into an apartment off campus, and your friendship only grew from there. 

Aemond was your best friend, and you could not have asked for a better one. Aemond invited you to spend the holiday with his family. He didn’t love spending time with his family as they could be quite a lot but he always went for his mother’s sake. 

You figured it beat spending Christmas alone in your flat. 

So you got dressed in your very best and sat in the passenger seat of Aemond’s Porsche the whole drive to Oldtown. 

- 

Aemond popped another piece of gum into his mouth. “This will be a great opportunity for you and Helaena to bond,” he said as he chewed. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not this again.” 

Aemond smiled mischievously. “Come on (y/n). You can’t tell me you didn’t feel a connection when she came to visit on my birthday.” 

“I can, and I am. She’s not a lesbian Aemond,” you replied.

Aemond was convinced that his sister Helaena was a lesbian. His evidence was that she never had a boyfriend, attended an all women's university, majored in Women’s studies, and only brought home girl best friends for the holidays. 

“She talked to you that night, which cannot be said for many other people. Helaena is very selective with who she talks to. You even made her laugh (y/n)! I saw the sparks,” Aemond argued. 

You sighed and shook your head. “Even if your sister was by some miracle into women, which I want to firmly state for the record that she is not, she’s simply not my type.” 

The light turned red and Aemond’s car pulled to a smooth stop at the intersection. He turned to you. 

“You don’t have a type. I’ve seen you bring all types of women home (y/n).” 

You smirked. “Ever notice they weren’t at all our age.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “So your type is older women?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, like your mom for example.” 

Aemond frowned. “Dude not that again!” 

You laughed. “It’s not my fault your mom is a total milf.” 

The light turned green. Aemond focused on the road once more. His face contorted in disgust. 

“Ugh, yeah you and my mother are not something I’d like to picture.” 

You let out another laugh. “Well I certainly have.” 

This time Aemond let out a small chuckle. “Do you have the hots for my mother (y/n)? Is that why you said yes to joining us for Christmas?” 

You shrugged. “Maybe I do, and maybe it is.” 

Aemond chuckled again. “Well if you can make my white, Anglo-saxon, catholic mother do anything untoward this weekend I’ll spend the first two months of the new year cleaning the bathroom every weekend.”

Another red light. The car came to a stop.

You turned to Aemond and put your hand out. 

“Deal.” 

Aemond turned to you and shook his head. “I was joking.” 

“I am not," you replied with a cheeky smile.

“Fine, deal,” Aemond said and shook your hand. 

The light turned green. Aemond sped off once more. 

You sat back in your seat thinking of Aemond’s mother, Alicent. You had only met her via Facetime when she called to check in on Aemond. 

She was a certified smokeshow. 

Alicent was beautiful and always held herself with poise. She was dressed impeccably in every photo of her online you could find when you first cyber-stalked her. 

She had lost her husband, Aemond’s father, three years ago. 

Aemond always skirted around the topic of his father. His father, from what you knew, had never really cared for Aemond and his siblings. 

Viserys Targaryen was in his second term as the state's governor when he passed away. The Targaryens were political legends in your state. Many of their family members had been mayors, governors, state senators, and they had even managed to have an ancestor in the oval office. 

Aemond’s father had always favored his only daughter from his first marriage, Rhaenyra. He had poised her to be the city’s mayor but his death led to a falling out within Aemond’s family. According to Aemond, they had never gotten along with Rhaenyra and her family but they had been cordial while Viserys lived. 

When he died, Rhaenyra (who according to Aemond saw his mother as nothing but a gold digging whore) fought Alicent on every asset Viserys owned and vowed to leave Alicent penniless. 

Thankfully Aemond’s mother had her family by her side. The Hightowers of Oldtown were an even older political force to be reckoned with. Their wealth dated back to the very founding of the nation. 

Aemond’s grandfather, Otto Hightower, had squandered his own inheritance as a young man. It was rumored his family had cut him off and left him to his own devices after he gambled his money away. So Aemond’s mother had grown up having to make a lot of things happen on her own as they didn’t have their family’s backing for most of her life. 

It wasn’t until Alicent married Viserys that the Hightowers welcomed Otto, Alicent, and her brothers back into the family fold. 

So when Viserys died Alicent had the army of Hightower family lawyers on her side. Alicent managed to win several of Viserys’ homes and the money the prenup she had signed promised her. 

Aemond never really spoke of his father, and when he did it was without warmth or love. So you often wondered if this was how all his family felt or if it was just him. You figured you would soon find out.

- 

Aemond pulled up in front of the massive estate. 

You got out of the car and marveled at the impressive family home. It wasn’t bigger than the one your family owned but it did look older and felt more imposing. 

The estate was decorated from top to bottom in Christmas decor. It was done tastefully, the lights and decor didn’t look tacky, but it certainly conveyed a love for the holiday not many others shared by the look of the estates Aemond had passed by on the drive up. 

Aemond popped the truck of the car open and took out his overnight bag. Then he took a deep breath and walked towards you. 

“Say the word and we can still go back to the flat,” he joked. 

You raised your brows and gave him a sideways look. “And do what? Eat Chinese take out and get drunk?” 

Aemond smiled. “That sounds class to me.” 

You laughed and shook your head. 

“Aemond," said a voice that sounded as sweet as honey and as light as the morning sun. 

You and Aemond turned your heads towards the estate. 

Aemond’s mother stood at the door. She smiled brightly and waved. 

Gods she’s even more beautiful in person, you thought. 

Aemond put his hand on your shoulder. “Let’s get this over with then.” 

You and Aemond walked up to the door. 

Aemond’s mother turned to you and gave you a hug. 

“It’s lovely to finally see you in person (y/n)," Alicent said as she politely embraced you. 

You were surprised but you quickly recovered and returned the embrace. You noted how warm she felt. 

“It’s a pleasure Mrs. Targaryen.” 

Alicent pulled away and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh none of that. Call me Alicent,” she said with a smile. 

You nodded. “If you insist, Alicent.” 

She let out a polite laugh then turned her attention to Aemond. She wrapped her arms around her son. “I’ve missed you so much my little dragon,” she cooed. 

Aemond blushed as he pulled away from his mother. 

“Mom,” he chided. 

Alicent laughed. “What? I can’t call you my little dragon anymore?” 

You laughed and turned to Aemond. “Little dragon?” 

Alicent turned to you. “He used to love running around pretending he was a dragon when he was a boy.” 

You reached out and pinched Aemond’s now rosy cheek. “How cute, little dragon.” 

Aemond swatted your hand away. “That only happened when I was seven and it’s because the dragon is on our family crest.” 

“If it makes you feel better my nickname used to be baby cabbage in our mother tongue," you revealed, hoping to lessen Aemond's embarrassment. 

Alicent laughed. “Why baby cabbage?” 

You blushed under her gaze. “I was a very chubby baby.” 

“How darling,” Alicent quipped. 

Butterflies fluttered in your chest at the compliment. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Aemond staring at you. 

He cleared his throat and pulled his mother’s gaze away from you. “Let’s go inside, it’s bitterly cold out.” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course come on in. Aegon is already up in his room. Helaena and her friend should be getting in any minute now.” 

Alicent stepped aside and Aemond walked inside. 

You followed after him and felt the butterflies in your chest multiply when you caught Alicent looking you over from head to toe with a small smile on her face.

-

Aemond and Aegon decided to smoke a joint before dinner. 

You weren’t against it but didn’t care to partake so you wandered downstairs and figured you’d ask Alicent if she needed any help with dinner. 

You knocked on the wall of the kitchen entryway. 

Alicent was stirring something in the saucepan but looked up when she heard you knock. She smiled. 

Butterflies filled your chest once more. 

“Hi there,” she said. 

You shoved your hands in the pockets of your jeans. Your palms had already started to sweat and you hadn't even spoken yet. 

“Hi...Uh I was wondering if you needed help with anything?” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re a guest (y/n). I could never ask you to do anything,” Alicent protested. 

You stepped closer and leaned against the counter next to the stove. “Then it’s a great thing I’m asking you. Really, I want to help out,” you insisted. 

Alicent let out a small laugh. “Okay, you can stir this gravy while I check on the roast.” 

You stepped up to the stove and took over the stirring. 

Alicent went to the oven that was inlaid on the side of the stove, and took a look at the roast.   

“Did you decorate or did you hire someone to decorate your home?” 

Alicent stuck a meat thermometer in the roast and turned her head towards you. “Depends, do you think it’s too much?” 

You smiled. “Of course not. It’s beautifully done.” 

Alicent brightened at the compliment. “Then it was all me,” she beamed. 

“Do you always go all out on the holidays?” 

Alicent placed the roast back on its rack and closed the oven door. “Just Christmas. It’s my favorite holiday because I finally have my family all under one roof again." 

She took her oven mitts off. 

You continued to stir the gravy. “Well I hope it’s okay that you have a stray joining you at the table this year." 

Alicent approached the stove once more.“It’s Christmas, the more the merrier.” 

Then Alicent reached out for the spoon. You went to hand it off. 

But then your hand met hers. 

You didn’t move, and neither did Alicent. 

She met your gaze. 

You were too scared to even breathe. It felt as though if you moved even an inch the spell that kept her eyes on you would break. 

But it broke anyway. 

Alicent cleared her throat and looked away. 

You let go of the spoon. 

Alicent grabbed the spoon and resumed stirring. With her free hand she lowered the heat of the flame. “Besides, I’ll have two stays. Helaena is bringing a friend from school," she said, as though your brief moment of intense something had never happened. 

You took a step back and leaned on the counter. “Right, you mentioned that before. Do you know much about her?” 

Alicent continued to stir. She did not meet your gaze. “Not really. Helaena doesn’t share much about her college life with me. All I know is that her name is Baela, and that they’re spending Christmas day with her family.” 

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Was Aemond right about his sister being into women? 

Alicent noticed. “Why’d you make that face?” 

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just something stupid Aemond said," your face suddenly felt warmer. 

Now it was Alicent who raised her eyebrows in intrigue. “What is it?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, unsure if Aemond would mind you sharing his thoughts with his mother. 

Alicent noted your apprehension. “I won’t tell Aemond you mentioned anything.” 

You looked into Alicent’s eyes. They were a deep and rich brown. They were comforting. You realized that with eyes like that you would tell her anything she wanted. But her gaze was too hot so you swallowed hard and looked away from her when you told her what Aemond had said. 

“He thinks Helaena is gay, and is obsessed with getting her and I together. I’m ninety percent sure that’s the sole reason he invited me over today.” 

Alicent stopped stirring and stared at you.“Gay? Why does he think Helaena is gay?” 

You shrugged. 

Alicent placed a hand on her hip. "I think you do know." 

You dared look up. Alicent's attention was fully focused on you. You felt your stomach in your throat but you spoke anyway.

“According to Aemond, Helaena never expresses interest in men or in dating a man, only talks about women she admires, attends a historically women’s college and majors in women’s studies, and finally that she only ever brings girls home on the holidays.” 

Alicent chuckled and went back to stirring the gravy. “Oh gods. You know I’ve never known why kids today still hang onto outdated stereotypes about sexuality. I was the very same at Helaena’s age, she’ll grow out of it when she meets her future husband. I know I did.” 

You pushed yourself onto the counter and sat down, intrigued at the revelation of Alicent's past. 

“You were a women’s studies major at an all girl college?” 

Alicent tilted her head to the side.“Sort of. I majored in English literature at Vassar, and I only ever brought my girl friends home for the holidays. Until I met my late husband of course.” 

Aemond had never told you that his mother had gone to an all women’s university or that she had a BA in English Lit. It piqued your interest. You needed to know more. 

“How did you meet him?” 

Alicent returned her gaze to the stove and brought the heat of the burner even lower. “My father introduced us. He was Viserys’ chief of staff in his first term.” 

You knew there had been an age difference between them but had not imagined it was that big. 

“Interesting...”

Alicent didn’t reply but she glanced over at you. 

You hopped off the counter, awkward with the sudden silence. “What else can I help with?” 

Alicent smiled softly. “You really don’t have to (y/n).” 

You shook your head. “I insist. Have you set the table? If not I would be more than happy to do so.” 

Alicent turned the heat off and moved the sauce pot to a different burner. She looked up at you. “I laid everything out but I haven’t set it up.” 

You clapped your hands together. “Consider it done.” 

Then you raised your hand to your forehead and gave Alicent a mock salute. 

Alicent laughed.

- 

You set the table as you had always been taught to. Spoons and knives on the right and forks on the left. 

Then, just as you were almost done setting the table you realized the salad forks were missing. 

You double checked the pile where Alicent had left everything, hoping they were under a napkin and you had simply missed them. But no dice. They weren’t there. 

So you walked back to the kitchen. 

Alicent was now working on the salad she planned to serve. She looked up when you entered the kitchen, a smile on her face. It seemed like she always had a smile ready for you. 

You smiled back, it was instinct around her. “Hey uhm- I’m almost done setting the table but I realized the salad forks are missing. I can’t find them.” 

Alicent furrowed her brow. “Really? I could have sworn I set them out with the rest.” 

She grabbed a nearby paper towel and wiped her hands of any residue. 

Then she exited the kitchen and walked towards her china hutch. 

You watched her from the kitchen entryway. 

While you waited for Alicent to find the forks you looked about the room. When you looked up you realized someone had hung mistletoe over the entryway. 

You smiled. 

Alicent walked to you, forks in hand. She stopped at the entryway. “I’m so sorry I forgot to set them out with the rest.” 

She handed the forks over to you. 

You reached out to take them and for a brief minute your hands met hers, once again. 

Your gaze met hers. “Don’t apologize. I honestly don’t know how you’re doing all the cooking and decorating all on your own. Aemond and I were barely able to put a tree up.” 

Alicent smiled. She didn’t pull away this time. “You’re too sweet (y/n).” 

You returned her smile. Your cheeks were starting to hurt but you wouldn't dare not smile back. “I do have to ask you something," you said, emboldened by the continued contact with Alicent. 

Alicent raised a brow. “Ask me something?” 

You nodded slightly then continued. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen mistletoe hung in the entryway of a kitchen before.” 

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Mistletoe?” 

You looked up. Alicent followed your gaze. 

Her eyes widened a bit when she noticed the mistletoe. “Oh I- That Aegon,” she cursed. 

You looked back down at her and laughed. 

Alicent met your gaze once more, blush filled her cheeks. 

Then she pulled her hands away from yours. 

You took the forks and held them against you. “It's quite a funny placement isn't it?" 

Alicent walked past you, back to her salad preparations. 

“Oh yeah? How so,” Alicent replied, busying herself with her salad to avoid looking at you.

 “It reminds me of the old saying, love the meal and kiss the chef." 

Alicent stopped chopping the greens and looked over at you. She let out a small laugh. “Is that a saying? I don't think I've heard it before." 

You shrugged. “I swear I've heard it before, somewhere...Well if it's not it should be." 

Alicent shook her head, the smile still on her face. “Let’s see if you still want to kiss the chef after you’ve had my cooking.” 

Butterflies filled your chest. You stood up a little straighter. “Deal.” 

Alicent turned to you once more, her eyebrows raised. 

You twirled around and walked back to the dining room. You could feel Alicent’s eyes on you as you walked away.

- 

You finished setting the table. 

Then you stepped back and admired your work. 

You hoped Alicent would like it. So you turned to head back to the kitchen but stopped in the hall when you heard the doorbell ring. 

You turned to open it but Aemond beat you to it. 

“Sister,” Aemond said and reached out to hug a familiar blonde.

Alicent walked out of the kitchen and went to the door. 

Helaena let go of Aemond and turned to her mother. Alicent wrapped Helaena in another hug. 

Behind her, a silver haired girl stood awkwardly in the doorway. 

Helaena pulled away from her mom and stepped back to the silver haired girl’s side. She slid her hand in the girl’s. “Mom, Aemond, this is my best friend Baela.” 

Alicent stepped forward and stuck her hand out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Baela.” 

Baela shook Alicent’s hand. “Thank you for having me over Mrs. Targaryen. Helaena has told me so much about you all.” 

Alicent laughed lightheartedly. “All good things I hope.” 

You took note that she didn’t ask Baela to call her Alicent. 

Aemond gave Baela a polite nod. “Welcome Baela.” 

Baela smiled at him. “Thank you Aemond.” 

Then Aemond noticed you standing in the hall and he waved you over. You approached them with a smile. 

Aemond went to your side and put his arm around your shoulders. “Helaena look who’s joining us tonight.” 

Helaena smiled when she turned to face you. “(y/n), it’s nice to see you again.” She stepped forward and gave you a hug. 

Aemond dropped his arm and stepped away from the both of you. 

You returned Helaena’s hug. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Aemond giving you a knowing smirk. 

Helaena pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “I’m so happy you’re joining us for dinner.” 

“As am I,” you replied. 

Helaena gave your arms a squeeze before she stepped back to Baela’s side. 

You stuck your hand out to Baela. “Nice to meet you. I’m Aemond’s friend (y/n).” 

Baela shook your hand warmly. “Nice to meet you as well.” 

Then Baela stepped back and Helaena looped her arm around Baela’s. 

“We’ll be upstairs in my room. Let us know when dinner is ready,” Helaena said before she and Baela started up the stairs. 

“Okay,” Alicent said as she watched them leave. Then she turned to you and Aemond. 

“Do you need any more help,” you asked Alicent. 

Alicent shook her head. “You’ve been a tremendous help. Please go have fun.” 

Aemond put his arm around your shoulders once more. “Let’s go play some video games on Aegon’s new system.” 

Aemond led you to the stairs. 

You craned your head back to look at Alicent. “If you need any more help just let me know! I’d be more than happy to.”

 Alicent gave you another smile. “I will.” 

Then she walked back into the kitchen and you followed Aemond up the stairs. 

- 

After about an hour of playing mario party with Aemond and Aegon (who you didn’t much care for because he could be crass but he had never been improper towards you so you didn’t mind him much) you heard the doorbell ring. 

“That will be grandfather,” Aemond said with a sigh. 

Aegon slumped down in his gaming chair on the ground. “I don’t want to go down.” 

Aemond clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Sooner we go say hello the sooner we can say goodbye.” 

Aegon groaned. 

You turned to Aemond. “Oh come on, your grandpa can’t be that bad.” 

Aegon looked at you with an incredulous expression. “You have no idea." 

Then you all stood and made your way to the entrance. 

You trailed behind the boys. 

You saw Alicent at the door with an older man who you figured was her father, and three younger men who greeted Alicent with smiles and hugs. You figured they were her brothers. 

Aemond had told you he had three uncles on his mother’s side. He hadn’t mentioned much about them other than they were all still bachelors, which to you spoke volumes about them as two looked older than Alicent and only one looked younger than her. 

The older man turned to Aegon and Aemond, who were now at the door.

 “Boys,“ the man cheered before greeting each one with a hug and heavy pat on the back. 

Aemond returned the hug while Aegon went limp in his grandfather’s arms. Then their uncles greeted each one. 

You noticed that Alicent had straightened her posture and kept a more neutral expression. She greeted her father and sibling politely, with none of the warmth of earlier greetings. 

There was a lot that you didn’t know about Alicent and her family but you figured it was not all rainbows and sunshine by the change in her demeanor.

“You got here just in time father. Dinner is ready and served,” Alicent proclaimed. 

Her father nodded. “Very good timing Alicent.” 

Then Alicent turned to Aemond. “Would you tell the girls it’s dinner time?” 

Aemond nodded. Then he sped back up the stairs. He reached you and started to tell you but you told him you had heard. 

So he left you and went to tell Helaena and Baela. 

You made your way down the staircase and to the dining room. 

Alicent’s father and brothers seated themselves. Her father sat at the head of the table and insisted Aegon sit on the other end. Aegon did not protest. 

Alicent came out of the kitchen with the salad she prepared in her arms. 

You went to her side. “Do you need any help bringing out the food?” 

Alicent gave you a half smile. “It’s alright (y/n). I’ve set it all on the table. You just sit down and enjoy.“ 

You nodded and followed Alicent into the dining room. You sat down on the empty side of the table. You introduced yourself to Alicent’s family as you sat down. They all gave you various levels of appropriate greetings. 

Thankfully Aemond, Helaena and Baela came in and sat down next to you. Aemond sat to your right, beside his grandfather, and Helaena to your left. Baela sat on her left, with Aegon on Baela’s left. Opposite you sat Alicent. To her left sat her brother Gwayne (as he had introduced himself to you), beside his father. To Alicent’s right sat her brothers Lyonel and Martyn. 

You took in the sight of the absolute feast that was before you. “This all looks delicious, Alicent,” you said without thinking. 

Alicent gave you a small smile, blush tinting her cheeks once again. “Thank you (y/n). You’re too kind.” 

Her father, Otto as you now knew him, let out an indifferent huff. “The roast looks a bit overdone. How long did you leave it in for,” he remarked. 

Alicent’s smile fell from her face. She looked down at her hands. “I followed mother’s recipe to the letter father.” 

Otto let out another huff. “We’ll see about that.” 

Alicent frowned. 

Your focus was pulled away from them when Aemond gently ribbed you with his elbow. 

“You’ve got the perfect seat to talk to Helaena,” he whispered. 

You turned your head slightly to get a better look at Helaena. She was too busy chatting with Baela to even notice you. 

You turned back to Aemond. “It’s not happening Aemond.” 

Aemond frowned then turned his attention to his grandfather.

Otto rose from his seat and tapped his wine glass with a fork, calling everyone’s attention. 

“It warms my heart to see the family gathered for another Christmas. A man’s true wealth can be measured by the strength of his family...and the strength of his business. I am pleased to announce that your uncle Ormund has set up a donor fund for Aegon’s first mayoral campaign.”

Alicent’s brothers clapped and cheered for Aegon. Alicent clapped softly and gave Aegon a sympathetic look. 

Aegon’s face turned a sickly pale color. He didn’t meet his grandfather’s gaze. 

You had a feeling this was the first Aegon was hearing of his mayoral candidacy. 

Otto raised his glass. “To Aegon, first stop the mayor of Oldtown, last stop the president’s office.” 

“Huzzah,” Martyn cheered. 

You raised your glass alongside the rest purely out of propriety. Everyone could tell by the look on Aegon’s face this was the last thing he wanted. 

You turned to look at Alicent who had guilt written all over her face. Your heart softened. 

Otto set his glass down after taking a drink. Then he grabbed the carving knife and fork and got to work on the roast. 

- 

The meal was going well. Until of course Alicent’s family set their attention towards you. 

Lyonel, Alicent’s eldest brother, turned towards you. “So (y/n), what’s your family do?” 

Martyn nodded. “Yeah your name sounds familiar.” 

You took a quick sip of your wine before you replied. “My family are mainly philanthropists now but our family used to own the majority of the railways in the country,” you confessed. 

“That’s right, (y/l/n) rail,” Otto chimed in. 

“Yes sir, but my father is focused on tech philanthropy now.” Below the table your palms started to sweat. Talking with Otto Hightower felt a lot like speaking with your grandfather as a child. They both had very imposing auras. 

“A pity,” Martyn responded as he shoveled another piece of roast into his mouth.

Alicent whipped her head towards her brother. “Martyn,” Alicent chided. 

Martyn shrugged. “What? Her family used to be major players in the nation.” 

Lyonel nodded, agreeing with his brother. But he didn’t stop there. “So why aren’t you spending Christmas with them?” 

You dug your fingers into the palms of your hands. You felt like something was stabbing the inside of your throat. 

Thankfully,  Alicent and Aemond came to your aid. “Lyonel,” Alicent reprimanded. 

Then she turned to you. “You don’t have to answer that (y/n). Please forgive my brothers.” 

Aemond nodded. “Yeah (y/n) you don’t have to engage my troublesome uncles.” 

Lyonel and Martyn rolled their eyes. 

Otto was silent but his piercing gaze remained on you. 

You swallowed hard before you put on a polite smile. You looked at Aemond then at Alicent. “It’s alright,” you assured them. 

Then you turned to Alicent’s brothers. 

“I came out to my family a few months ago and it's safe to say they don’t approve of my new ‘lifestyle’ as they call it.” 

Lyonel’s face went red. Martyn looked away. 

Internally, you smiled at the sight of them embarrassed. 

Alicent’s voice pulled you back to the present. “They’ll come around eventually (y/n). The love a parent has for their child is immeasurable.” 

You smiled at her. “I really hope you’re right.” 

Gwayne, who had not said much all dinner, cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him. 

He turned to Aemond. “So Aemond, how’s your fencing coming along?” 

And just like that the pressure was off you and onto Aemond. 

- 

Many minutes later the meal came to a close. 

The men whisked Aegon and Aemond outside to play ball, leaving only the women inside. 

You, Alicent, Helaena, and Baela cleaned up the table. 

Alicent and Baela made their way to the kitchen with the leftover food while you and Helaena stacked up a pile of dirty dishes. 

Helaena looked over at you. “That was very brave of you,” she said. 

You set the plate you had picked up down. “What was brave?” 

Helaena stopped clearing the table. She turned to face you. “Telling everyone your family iced you out after you came out. Coming out to your family is incredibly brave, and you’re even braver for sharing that with practical strangers.” 

You smiled and felt your face warm. You weren’t attracted to Helaena but she had an otherworldly presence that made any attention she gave you feel special. “Thank you Helaena.” 

She reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “If you ever need to talk or need support, I’m here for you.” 

You put your hand on top of hers. “Thank you.” 

Then the two of you finished clearing the table. 

- 

You finished bringing the last of the dirty dishes into the kitchen. 

Helaena trailed in after you and set her stack on the counter. “Mother, Baela and I will be in my room.” 

Alicent nodded, up to her elbows in leftover food that she was trying to shove into various containers. 

Baela and Helaena left the kitchen. 

You turned to Alicent. “Do you need some help with that?” 

Alicent struggled to secure the lid on the container as she had over packed it with food. Alicent shook her head. “I got it.” 

You continued to watch her struggle. “I don’t think you do.” 

Alicent stopped trying and stepped aside. “Okay then tough guy, you give it a go.” 

You smiled and walked up to the counter. You pressed the lid down on all sides until you heard it click. It was secure. 

Alicent clicked her tongue. "Lucky try." 

You turned to her. “Always happy to help.” 

Alicent took the container full of food and stacked it with the others. “You don’t have to hang around here (y/n). You can go see Aemond or Helaena.” 

You furrowed your brows. “Helaena?” 

Alicent turned to the fridge and started the game of stacking the leftovers. “Yes, I saw the two of you talking while you cleared the table. Perhaps Aemond was right after all. I’ve never seen Helaena take to someone new so quickly.” 

“You were watching us," you asked, butterflies forming at the thought of Alicent spying on you. 

“Why do you say it as if I was spying on you? I saw you from the window in the kitchen is all." She said with a lazy smile on her face. 

“Right....We were just talking. Besides,Aemond is out playing sports with your brothers and father and I am not a sports fan. And I would hate to interrupt Helaena and Baela's alone time,” you joked. 

Alicent chuckled. She turned to grab the rest of the leftovers from the counter. 

You stepped forward and grabbed them. You handed them to her, one by one. “Besides, I like being in your company,” you confessed. 

Alicent stopped arranging the leftovers and looked back at you. “Really?” 

You nodded. 

Alicent smiled shyly and returned her attention to the refrigerator. “I wish my own children felt the same. All but Aemond dodge my calls.” 

You shrugged. “If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always free.” 

Alicent turned to you and you handed her the final container of leftovers. “Thank you (y/n).” 

Her fingers lingered over yours. Alicent looked down at them. She stared at them for a moment before biting her lip. 

 “What’s your verdict?” 

You furrowed your brows. “I’m sorry?” 

Alicent looked up, and took the container from you. “About my food. Was it good enough to kiss the chef?” 

Your face went hot. “Oh...uhm I-” 

Alicent placed the container in the fridge then closed it. She turned back to you. 

You were still too stunned to say anything. 

So her smile fell and she shook her head. “Forget it, it was stupid.” 

“No it’s not stupid I-," you stammered then cleared your throat. “I was just caught off guard is all.” 

Alicent stared at you, not saying anything. 

So you continued. 

“The roast was cooked perfectly.” 

Her smile returned. “Thank you (y/n).” 

You stepped closer to her. “So I do believe I will kiss the chef after all.” 

Alicent swallowed hard, not taking her gaze off you. “Oh,” she whispered. 

You stood in front of her, and looked down at her lips. “May I?” 

The last thing you wanted was for Alicent to feel uncomfortable or coerced. So you waited for her reply before doing anything else. 

Alicent gave you an almost imperceptible nod. 

You leaned in, at first determined to kiss her lips, but as you neared her skin you thought better of it. 

She was just committing to the bit, you told yourself, she didn't actually want you to kiss her.

So you placed a gentle kiss on Alicent’s cheek, inches away from her lips but still in a chaste enough location. 

You noticed a small frown spread across Alicent’s lips as you pulled away. 

But it was quickly wiped away. 

Alicent blushed furiously. She looked away from you. 

You also felt your face warm. 

You heard footsteps approach the kitchen. So you stepped away from Alicent and leaned on the counter. 

Alicent must have also heard them as she busied herself with wiping down the stove top with a nearby rag. 

Aemond appeared moments later. He looked between you and his mother, slightly suspicious, but then he shook his head and turned to you. “Aegon wants another couple rounds of Deadly Fighter 5. You up for it?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Aemond turned and headed towards the hall. 

You started after him but turned at the entryway of the kitchen. “It was a lovely meal, thank you.” 

Alicent nodded, her cheeks still rosy. “Of course.” 

Then you hurried after Aemond. 

A part of you wished you had been brave enough to kiss Alicent on the lips.

You mashed various button combinations as your chosen fighter threw punches at Aemond’s chosen character on the tv screen. 

He was currently beating you  in the second round. 

Behind you, Aegon took a hit from his bong and blew it out in perfect circles. 

“So let me get this right, you want to fuck our mom,” Aegon repeated. 

You grimaced. “Why must you say it like that?” 

Aemond’s character delivered the killing blow to you. You lost. 

Aemond turned to you. “Aegon’s crudeness aside, he’s not wrong. I’ve seen the way you linger in the kitchen alone with her.” 

You felt your face start to warm. You cleared your throat and tried your best to appear nonchalant. 

“I didn’t want her to think I was a rude guest. No one else was helping her,” you argued. 

Aegon took another hit before he spoke again. “You know, I always thought Mom was a lesbian,” he mused. 

Aemond turned to him. “You did?” 

Aegon nodded. “She never really liked Dad, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard her call a man sexy.” 

Aemond furrowed his brows. “Because Dad was a dick. Mother is a devout Catholic she would never call another man sexy. I don’t even think that word is in her vocabulary.” 

You turned to Aemond. “Your arguments for why Heleana is gay are just as flimsy.” 

Aegon turned to Aemond. “You think Helaena is gay?” 

Aemond shrugged. “What else could she be? She’s definitely not into men.” 

“She’s not into anything. She’s a freak like that,” Aegon said and laughed at his own joke. 

Aemond threw a pillow at Aegon’s head. 

It bumped Aegon’s head and knocked the bong out of his hands. 

“Hey,” Aegon whined. 

You and Aemond laughed. 

- 

An hour later, the time had arrived for you to leave. 

You descended the stairs with Aegon and Aemond in tow. 

At the bottom of the stairs Alicent was already saying goodbye to her father and brothers. She finished giving each a hug goodbye. 

Then she noticed Aemond and Aegon. Alicent asked the boys to say goodbye to their grandfather and uncles. 

Aegon and Aemond did as their mother asked and gave their family a hug goodbye. 

Helaena and Baela came down the stairs and Helaena said goodbye to her grandfather and uncles. 

Once they were gone, Helaena informed her mother it was time for her and Baela to leave. 

Alicent gave Helaena a big hug. “I’ll miss you, my bug, she said as she gave Helaena a kiss on the forehead. 

Then Alicent said goodbye to Baela, another handshake. 

Baela and Helaena made their way out the door. 

You were the last guest there. 

Alicent and the boys looked towards you. 

You dialed your cousin Elia once more. Once again you got the automated message the call could not be connected.

“I’m having some trouble with my cell. Could I use your landline?” You asked. 

Aemond furrowed his brows. He turned to his mom. “Do we even have one?” 

Alicent nodded. “Of course we do.” Then she turned to you. “It’s this way.” 

She led you to a small alcove with the landline and a seat next to it at the end of the hall. 

You thanked her and dialed Elia’s number once more. 

This time you got through. It rang three times before she answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Elia, it’s (y/n). I’m calling from my friend’s landline. I couldn’t get through on my cell for some reason.” 

You pressed the phone closer to your ear. There was a lot of background noise and you could not hear Elia very well. 

“I tried to call you. I can’t make it out to pick you up. There’s been a freak snowstorm in Sunspear. They closed all the roads and aren’t letting anyone through. I’m so sorry kiddo,” Elia lamented. 

Your heart sank. 

One for the snow storm that was probably wreaking havoc in Sunspear. It was a town that almost never got anything besides sun. 

And secondly because now you had no way to get back to your flat. 

You swallowed hard before answering. “Stay safe Elia. Please call me with updates, okay?” 

“You got it kiddo. Is there anyone else who can take you  home?” 

“I’ll figure it out, Elia. Don’t worry about that,” you said. 

The line started to fade in and out. Elia wished you a safe ride home and a merry Christmas. 

You did the same then hung up. 

Then you walked back to the entryway where Alicent, Aegon and Aemond stood. 

You shoved your hands in your pockets. “Soo...a freak snowstorm hit Sunspear and Elia can’t pick me up.” 

Alicent frowned. “Oh no, is she alright?” 

You nodded. “Yeah she’s doing okay. Uhm, so I’ll try to call my family’s driver to see if he can make it out. It might take him an hour or two to drive from High Garden but I’m sure he won’t mind.” 

Alicent shook her head and approached you. “Nonsense, you’ll stay the night with us and you can leave with Aemond tomorrow evening.” 

She reached for your hands and held them. “Got it?” 

You flushed. “I couldn’t possibly bother you all like that.“ 

“You are no bother (y/n). Now come on, let me show you to the guest bedroom.” 

Then Alicent pulled you along the staircase and to the guest bedroom. 

Aemond trailed behind the two of you. 

-

Alicent led you to a beautiful room with ample space and a fireplace. She asked Aemond to start a fire as the room could get quite cold at night. 

Aemond did so without protest and soon a fire roared in the hearth. 

Then Alicent asked Aemond to fetch you a pair of his pajamas. 

Again, Aemond did so without protest. 

While Aemond was gone you turned to Alicent. “Are you sure this isn’t an imposition? I can still call the family driver.” 

Alicent waved you off. “You’re staying and that’s final. You got it?” 

You nodded. Her dominant tone ignited a flame of your own. “Thank you,” was all you could say without giving your desire away. 

Aemond returned with a fresh pair of pajamas in hand. He gave them to you. 

You thanked him. 

Alicent clapped her hands together. “Wonderful, we will leave you to get settled. Breakfast is tomorrow at 9am.” 

You nodded. “Got it.” 

Alicent reached out and gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Sleep well,” she said. 

You smiled. “You as well.” 

Then Alicent turned and left the room. 

Aemond stepped forward. “We’ll try again with Helaena at New Years.” 

You groaned. “Please, no more of that.” 

Aemond chuckled. “We’ll see. Good night (y/n).” 

“Good night Aemond,” you replied as you shook your head. 

Aemond walked out and shut the door behind him. 

Finally, you were alone. 

You changed into the pajamas Aemond gave you and settled into the plush king sized bed. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come. You decided to think about Alicent, in hopes you dreamt of her. 

You smiled. 

- 

Unfortunately, sleep did not come for you. You tossed and you turned. 

All you could think of was how much fun your family was probably having without you in St. Barts. 

Then you did the worst possible thing. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pulled up your mother’s facebook account. 

She had already posted many photos of the family in St. Barts. They were smiling from ear to ear, tanned, and it seemed like no one cared you were not in any of the pictures. 

Your mom made no mention of your absence in the text of the post and none of the comments (mostly your mom’s pta and book club friends) asked about your whereabouts. 

You clicked through the many photos. It wasn’t until you clicked on the last photo that you lost it. 

It was a picture of your whole family (minus you), with a caption that read, “Family time is the best time. So thankful to God for allowing the whole family to join us for this Christmas getaway.” 

Tears welled in your eyes. They had completely erased you out of the family. You threw your phone across the room. 

The tears fell from your eyes and stained your cheeks. You could not stop the sobbing that followed. 

It was stupid. You were stupid. 

You should not have been crying for a family that clearly did not want you. You wiped your tears and tried to calm yourself. 

You struggled to do so but after a few minutes you were finally able to breathe normally again. 

You got out of bed and crossed the room to where you had thrown your phone. Then you picked it up. It was a little busted but nothing cracked. 

So you pocketed it and decided to go downstairs for a glass of water. 

- 

As you started towards the kitchen you noticed lights were on in the study down the opposite hall. 

Aemond had briefly mentioned the study on the initial tour he had given you. 

You wondered who else was up this late as it was well past 2am. 

So you stepped closer. As you neared the study you started to hear small cries and sobs. 

You got closer and tried to peer inside. 

Thankfully the door was ajar enough that you saw who was inside. 

It was Alicent. 

The first thing you noticed was how low cut her nightgown was. 

It was a beautiful sage green, and it hugged her body pretty tightly. Then your gaze traveled back to the low cut top of the nightgown. You knew it was wrong to stare but you wanted to take in just how stunning Alicent was. 

You looked closer and noticed her nipples peeked through the fabric of the nightgown. You swallowed hard. 

“Fuck,” you whispered. 

Then Alicent sniffled and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. 

You shook your head. She was clearly upset and there you were ogling her. 

You stepped back and tried to leave. 

But it was too late. 

Alicent stood from her seat. “Who’s there?” She called out. 

You didn’t reply. You were far enough away that you hoped by staying quiet she would drop it and you could leave. 

You didn’t want to intrude on a clearly private moment. 

“Come forward,” Alicent demanded. 

You silently cursed yourself. You had no choice but to enter the study.

[lacrimosathedark]

Hello. I love Conner Kent and have compiled pretty much every time Conner and Tim have had any kind of intimacy since he was brought back to canon.

Let’s go in order!

Young Justice 2019 (not to be confused with the OG)

For the record, this is pre-bisexual-realization Tim. tbh I’ve been thinking about just how bitter Tim sounds here despite still being oblivious to how freaking gay he is. Like, seriously “Whatever dumb thing or person makes him happy makes me happy.” Like, why they gotta be dumb, Timbo? While not anywhere near as weird, it also feels very strong for Tim to say with his whole-ass chest “he’s my best friend and I love him” solely given how recently he recovered those memories.  But if they had resolidified into him by that point, it’s not too strange. Stronger things have been said about them and by them.

Conner goes right for Tim. (In fairness, Cassie’s already got him and Bart isn’t in the room yet, but still)

(Also please join me in desperately trying to ignore the Drake outfit for the next few images because Yikes)

Conner was being such a Mom to Bart before this that this just reminds me of when they started Young Justice and he made a comment about how Bart would be a handful for other heroes or parents and Tim just gave him a Look and he was like “Oh, no! I am NOT the mom!” Sure, Jan.

More cute Bart, but it’s just...the thought. Bart knew Tim would want to see pics of Kon punching Luthor in the face and I love that for them.

I couldn’t not include the subsequent hug. THEY’RE SO FRICKIN CUTE.

That’s about it for Young Justice (and thankfully Drake). Next is the Tim Drake Pride Special, most of which is also in Batman: Urban Legends. Though Conner is only in Urban Legends for this one hot sec.

Kon doesn’t end up helping with Bernard because Tim is a stubborn dumbass with a habit for self-sabotage. But he saves the day and gets the boy anyway.

(For the record, I am endgame TimKon 100%, but Tim and Bernard are also very cute together and I’m so excited to see more of them! Honestly, read the new Tim Drake: Robin comics they are so flippin cute and we get to see Bernard being a ridiculous conspiracy theorist like he was on New Earth and it’s actually pretty funny and so cute UGH)

Then this is I think exclusive to the Pride Special, and we are post Bisexual Awakening.

So many people loved this page. Including me. But this part of the special was more about getting Tim to talk to Stephanie again. Because he’s an awkward loser who is trying to find himself and will occasionally just distance himself from people to do so. Despite generally being self aware and knowing better.

Anywho, the following is from Dark Crisis: Young Justice. Which isn’t too bad, but sometimes feels a bit wonky, especially with the girls. But it’s not totally out of character, especially given the Fresh Trauma, and it gets in the boys’ heads. And there’s...A Lot.

This is...well, these are Cassie’s thoughts. The plot hole made here, “Conner never find[ing] out” which shouldn’t be true because both Cassie AND Tim told him about this, is hand waved later because the whole thing with Rebirth is everyone’s memories are Fucked. I mean, Kon and Bart should have not been included in that because they were “off-world” when the N52 reboot happened which is the explanation for the 90s/2000s versions to come back basically as they had been, but y’know. Comics.

But anyway, this is bringing up, in case you live under a rock and were unaware, the time when Kon died and Cassie and Tim started dating for a hot second almost entirely because of their shared grief over Kon. Cassie had literally been in a Superboy cult and Tim was in the desperate process of trying to clone him.

You know. Fun times.

Dark Crisis actually has a lot of Kon@Tim stuff. I mean, plenty of the mutual affection still, but Kon is very focused on Tim, whereas Tim is trying to be more logical and, funny enough, listening to Bart.

Everyone forgets Bart is Super Smart, in part because he’s actually naturally clever but has a goober personality, but also because part of his trauma response to getting his kneecap blow off and having to have surgery done with little to no anesthetic because his metabolism burned that shit right out, he literally consumed an entire library. Like, read every single book there at super speed. Boy Knows Things. Plus he’s experienced to much more trauma since then, he’s become a quick thinker (pun always intended).

But you’re not here for my Bartholomew Is Great lecture, you’re here for TimKon!

Coffee Boy Confirmed

Oh, Tim...

All three of them go flying out of a car and Kon grabs Tim, but fuck Bart I guess? Bart brings this up later but it’s still frustrating. Sure, Tim and Kon are besties, but they love Bart. He’s not a third wheel in their friendship. He’s part of it. Just...sigh.

I love “You know I can run, right?” This is just a little glimpse into while Kon’s brain seems almost exclusively reserved for self pity and Tim, and Tim is still very much more focused on Conner, Tim is still paying attention to Bart (even if he doesn’t feel like it). Tim didn’t need to grab Bart at all, but why not?

Again, Kon brushing Bart off entirely, and Tim acknowledging Bart’s point but still showing preference to Kon.

Tim is So Done with these two and it’s so funny.

Also want to note, “process this with Babs later”. Is Babs acting as his therapist? I think she has the training, or at least a degree in psychology? That would actually be kinda sweet.

This seems so much more “ow my heart” out of context...the context is, Kon is being a dick to Bart. Tim ultimately disagrees with Conner, but not enough for Bart to not storm off, as seen below.

For the record, that’s not Cassie. Which is pretty obvious from the jump. But even here...yikes.

This stunned look (which is oddly glassy-eyed and unnerving tbh...) is in direct contrast to his calm understanding when Cassie actually told him, and then when Tim tried to talk to him about it. He was initially like “that’s kinda fucked up, but I get it and I forgive you”. Which...honestly sounds super big and sweet, but he also had pretty much the same reaction to “I was in a Superboy revival cult” and “I tried to clone you 90+ times and considered tossing you in a Lazarus Pit” so...

What I’m saying is Kon, in true Kent fashion, is a himbo.

But this could set off so many trains of thought here. Cassie told him it was out of grief that she did it--Tim never gets to explain his side. But what if it was a grief reaction for Tim? (It was.) Does that mean he was projecting his feelings for Conner onto Cassie? (Probably.) Tim knows he likes boys now, does that mean he liked Conner? (Likely.) Either way, what does Kon do with this?

Okay, this isn’t TimKon, but these boys are so fucking funny. Have I mentioned that I love Tim Drake? Because I love him. (Also reminds me of the time when Bart’s head was fucked up and he thought he was Batman...look, the 90s were weird, okay?)

They just had a fight and Tim’s first move is to stabilize and comfort Conner. Just....aaaaaaaaaaaa

And then we get to the fourth issue...which is probably my favorite because we’re finally in Conner’s head! We’ve been bopping between Bart and Tim until now (and also Cassie and Cissie elsewhere), but nearly this whole comic is Kon’s POV and it’s both hilarious and a little heartbreaking. I...I love him. He is my Favorite.

So, they’re being attacked by a whole fake Justice League and Titans (I see Roy and Kory and Kyle and Donna and--) and Big Bad is fucking with the sound waves. Until Conner is like, “Okay, but what if we didn’t?”

He’s the one who’s been trying to convince the other two that this fake world is okay, that it’s better and they should stay, despite things being noticeably Off, and despite the distinct lack of Jon, Damian, and Wallace. (As far as I know, Bart doesn’t know Wallace too well, but Kon and Jon at least met and got on okay, and Tim and Damian are...well, they’re at a point in their relationship of begrudging respect and affectionate verbal violence rather than, y’know, actual violence). Bart wants to GTFO, and Tim was wishy-washy at first, but at this point is firmly with Bart and wants out. I mean, he started getting Bad Vibes when Fake Batman said him wanting to date Bernard over Stephanie was “just a phase”. I didn’t include that image despite loving it, but Tim’s internal thoughts are, verbatim, “@#$&#&* what?” which can, I would guess, be translated to, “Fucking what?” Tim is very curse-y in this series.

But I’m getting sidetracked. Kon wants to stay, the others want out, and Kon throws a bitch fit.

“The man was too stunned to speak”

Poor Bart, figuratively and literally carrying this fucking team.

Here we go.

Hey. Hey, Conner. Buddy. What the fuck does that mean, man?

I cannot begin to tell you the number of ways this page hurts me. Just...all three of them are so fed up with everything and aaaaaaaaa

And then Bart rightfully goes off.

Like, that’s not quite true, but it sure do be feeling that way right now. And while even in this post I’ve shown just how much both of them can care and pay attention to Bart, they have always been more focused on each other. At first it was because Tim was secretive and Kon thought he had a stick up his ass meanwhile Conner was new to the world and being actively manipulated by people. And then it’s because they’re best friends. Like, heterosexual life partners levels of best friends. Platonic (or not-so-platonic) soulmates levels of best friends. They both consider Bart their best friend too, but they hold each other above pretty much everyone else. Which, after they’ve all lost some footholds in reality with their seniors missing, those small slights feel more pointed and are getting to Bart a lot more. He’s hurting and Tim’s the only one listening, but Tim is favoring Kon and it’s driving him up the wall. All that frustration and resentment come to a head. Hopefully to be resolved.

I’ve made this a Young Justice Boys post instead of just a TimKon post, but I regret nothing!

For the sake of my image limit I haven’t given everything I love about this issue, but even if you don’t read the rest (which is fair, it gives some people Bad Vibes at the start) please read this issue. Conner’s inner monologue is so stupid and so funny and I love him so much.

But anywhozits, proceeding!

I want it noted that Bart was attacked right before this and is held on the ground but Conner immediately goes for Tim. Unbelievable.

(I refuse to crop out Bart when he’s funny)

I’m, uh, not a fan of Superboy’s face here, but y’know, more him focused on Tim. While Bart is in a similar predicament.

He finally mentions Bart...after he seems to have nearly been able to save himself.

(Yes, the bad guy’s name is Mickey. Yes it’s awful, but that’s the point. I think.)

Now, here’s a big point for me, so I’m breaking down the page.

Mickey-boy conjures up images of new and revised characters (ex. Jon Kent and Harley Quinn) and Tim sees

And the next panel?

He sees Tim looking at the image of his boyfriend...and he changes his tune.

And they they all go off on a speech that’s touching in context but incredibly cheesey out of it. Also a bit obnoxiously meta, but so is this whole storyline.

“What are you gonna do about it, Conner Kent?” I don’t know why that gets me so much but it does.

That’s all for now. Last DCYJ comes out November 15 and I’ll probably edit this post at that point to add what’s in there but I’m impatient and made this whole thing and I need people to love and appreciate these boys.

[radioactive-earthshine]

How?

I spent re-reading this arc watching very, very closely to determine how and WHEN Iris suddenly became a reliable source for future information because I could not recall any specific moment (like her finding her future book and reading it) to pinpoint this.

When she and Bart first show up, she's pretty firm about not actually knowing much and the 30th century's records are pretty bad - we know more about the Viking era today than they do about year 1995 due to the immense amounts of wars and cataclysms that separate the centuries. All the heroes are like the Arthurian Legend, they have names and approximations and even locations, but not many good details of WHAT because they are more legends at that time. There are some details that did survive but it's very spotty.

The Flash (1987) #95

If Bart knows all about Wally's career, then it would make sense that he too is a reliable source of information and yet... he really does not know anything because if he did he would know about the events to follow.

Also, as a point of reference the incident Bart is talking about has already happened.

So Iris is convinced at the this time her future knowledge is not reliable, she doesn't know anything about anyone and then, suddenly, inexplicably, for no reason at all...

The Flash (1987) #101

... she knows everyone's histories.

She knows about Thad, a victim himself, who will terrorize Bart and lead to this death. She knows about Carol, a 15 year old girl, who will be terrorized in the future with Bart's mother, she knows about how Max will be consumed by the Speed Force, leaving Bart to have to uproot everything to live with Jay and Joan, she knows literally everything which would be fine except...

.... If she already knew everything then why did she not know that Bart wasn't dead in the first place in the future? Why did she come in to Wally's life and lead him to think he had to raise Bart if she knew he would need to be raised by Max all along?

Her reasons for isolating herself is to prevent the future from changing but at this point in time, right here, right now, it has already been changed because of Zero Hour so there is no reason at all to have this be a plot point. The future she and Bart left has been changed. It is a plot hole even Geoff Johns remarked on which made Jenni's existence in the PZH Legion team questionable (he attempted to fix it but meh it didn't work either).

At the end of the day this is likely just comic writing getting extremely capricious and even Mark Waid was not immune to sudden erroneous retcons and just winging it in order to make something make sense. He likely just wanted Bart to be raised by Max, and knew that people would question WHY Bart was living with Max if Iris was right there so he had to remove her somehow that wasn't just up and killing her. Which would have made more sense but is also a dick move and we don't need more dead women.

Unless it explains sometime later in this comic how she suddenly knows this just comes out of nowhere and doesn't work.

[bi-bats]

im procrastinating so hard rn so c, i, o, z?

Waffle hELLO!!!!! THANK YOU FOR WAITING LIKE TWO WEEKS FOR ME TO GET TO THIS LMAOOOO 💖💖💖

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

oh that's tough actually, especially in DC. there really aren't any that I abhor wholeheartedly-

wait no wait. Supermartian. Sorry, both Kon and M'gann are a thousand times more interesting without each other in literally every instance I've seen them (for the record, I'm talking exclusively about canon because I don't consume fan content for this pairing, so there are probably people who are doing it justice out there but the canon content has put me so far off of it that I just. don't want it).

I - Has Tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why?

Oh interesting! See, I've been on here since like. 2011? not on this particular blog (though I do still have access to my old account) so. uh. I've been here since before superwholock. I was in and out, so thankfully I wasn't around much for Steven Universe, though I did watch that whole series and heard things about the fandom. I think it'd be more accurate to say it wasn't Tumblr specifically, but certain fandoms have put me off, though I am reluctant to admit my shame.

homestuck

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Je te laisserai des mots - reminds me of DamiTim, possibly because I'm in that brainspace rn? but also I hc that Damian plays violin and Tim plays piano and the way that the two intertwine throughout the song is beautiful. Also the lyrics remind me of Damian, who I think is definitely one to hide his feelings and wait for someone else to make the first move!

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

Okay I'm gonna hit you with a take I see all the time but feel like talking about anyways. I read a lot of comics (not just for batfam, I'm actually a major flashfam enthusiast (esp Wally and Bart) and a MASSIVE Kyle Rayner and Jo Mullein fan, and I read plenty of superfam stuff bc I love Kon, and also Young Justice my belOVED) but like. if I could just. read a run that doesn't have Batman or the batfam in it, you know. Sometimes I just. It'd be nice! that's all! It'd be nice if I could just read a Kyle run that doesn't have any bats in it! Or Wally! Like, don't get me wrong, I actually love his relationship with Dick (they're in love actually but that's a story for another time) but like. HE DOESN'T REALLY NEED TO BE HERE IDK. or like the new run of Titans!! Sure, I want Dick to be in it but like. He's the main character!! Idk!!! I get that they're making him like, the face of DC or whatever but like. idk sometimes I want my other faves to get the spotlight.

Sorry if you weren't looking for me to whine about this 😂 and for the record I don't always hate it, I just want more of my other faves who have kind of been forgotten in favor of the bats again

[bluetooththereptile]

Unwelcomed embrace

Yandere super family x neglected reader

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: Well since apprently you guys enjoy reading angst and neglect related fics,I've thought of making one for super family! If you guys like it there's the chance of making another part for this one as well!

Summary: As a not so hostile hero you are trying to find your place amongst other heros, but apprently going to higher rankes needs a veteran's support, but you are alone, and it's the reason why your wishes will be turned down. This makes you to lash out and start an storm that shakes your whole life!

Tw: mentions of past abuse and neglect and anger issues

"For God's sake Bart, can you stop babbling for a second?" You snapped at the flash boy, making him close his jaw quickly, looking away. Kaldur arched his brow at you, you were more snappy than usual, there must have been something in your mind that was bothering you, he knew something was wrong but didn't acknowledge it, pressing further would have resulted in an angrier you and a huge mess, he didn’t want that, especially now that you were in the justice palace.

You tapped your feet nervously as you tried to listen to the conversation going on in the meeting room, but the advanced technology on its walls muffled every sound and this made your mood even worse, making you furrow your brows deeply as you scowled, every second that passed more people around you stepped away, not wanting to get involved in your ranting. As a hero, you were known for your problematic anger issues, and if it wasn't for your efficient way of working and powers, you wouldn't be in the league at all, "We need protectors, not warriors!" Batman once had yelled at you when you had thrown a whole truck filled with criminals down the cliff, thankfully superman was there to take the truck, speaking of superman...he was in the meeting room as well, making you even more anxious, something told you that your hopes were going to be put down.

You took in a deep breath, trying to not think about negative things too much, you were going to become a superhero, there wouldn't be anything against that right? Minus those numerous records of destruction and disobedience of course. But there wouldn't be a problem if a veteran took you in, looking after you for a while so you wouldn't make more problems, but that was where your real concerns laid, none of them liked you. Your reputation as the illegitimate child of superman didn't help you that much, your mother's infamous deeds rubbed off his good name and presented you as a threat, your behavior didn't help much, for a person that was into plants you were too angry, always expecting something from the world you were born into by Poison Ivy, aka, your sweet mother.

She was so sweet that she left you behind, putting you in Superman's arms as a "gift". But Clark was already building up his own family, dating Lios Lane...he couldn't have a child out of nowhere from a "forced" affair pop into his life and ruin everything. You were not wanted by anyone, and your life seemed pointless at the age of just 11 days old. Clark couldn't let you go through the normal adoption process, no normal family would take a half Kryptonian, half magical nymph into their home, so he decided to give his green child a chance, he decided to let Lois know about you, so she could take care of you, but what a young busy woman without any experience with babies can do with a baby that has special powers?  The whole thing was doomed to end in disaster.

At just 6 months old, finally, Clark gave you up for adoption services, you were not made to be in his family, your constant screams, crying, and need for attention annoyed the couple, but now that you thought about it, apparently Lois did not like to have the child of another woman in a crib, next to her bed, you were proof of her lover's affair and she didn't like that at all, and Clark, he was ashamed of having you around for obvious reasons. So you were given up, like a piece of furniture. Months later, When Lois's job crisis ended, she'd come to her senses, it was not your fault that you were born that way, but it was too late...you were given to a family already. But Clark could come and take you away! But he didn't.

It was nice, at least for some years, that your parents kept up with you, knowing your situation. Your mother loved plants and you would pop a rose for her daily, to see her smile, and her smile brightened your small heart. Your father, a strict but kind man, loved his wife, and seeing her happy made him feel good as well, so you, the reason for her happiness, were precious to him. Until the day your mother died in an accident, and your father went into depression. His friends introduced him to liquor and well...let's just say it didn't end in something good. Your anxiety and anger issues were the results of your father's abuse. It turned so bad that you left home at the age of 15, flying away to find your real father.

You were smart, you could see your powers were familiar with someone else's, superman, that was why you decided on following him around, only to find out his true identity, and where he lived. But it was not like how you had imagined, your real father, Clark, had a son of his own now, and his family seemed so happy, you felt by showing up you'd ruin their happiness, but you decided on knocking on the door in the end, you couldn't deny yourself, you needed love and happiness as well!

But you were not greeted warmly. "Tell that woman I don't want to do anything with her!" Clark said as he pushed you away from the door frame so Lois couldn't see you. "B-but my mother is dead!" You said, now shivering, your green skin not showing how pale you were, your foster father was a scary man, but the man of steel was much more terrifying. Clark didn't believe you, he had been manipulated before, and a teenager was not going to fool him again. So you have pushed away, now being on your own.

Life was not easy on you at all. That was why you decided to become a hero so you could be great, so you could be heard and seen, you saw all of those magazines and headlines of superheroes, and you wanted to be like them, you wanted to be loved again, but the world was not going to show it's a good side to you.

The door of the meeting room opened, and members of the justice league walked out one by one, you tried your best to not jump in and ask about the result, looking desperately to batman as he walked toward you and other members of the young justice league. "The chosen one this time will be Red Robin." Tim smiled in disbelief as others cheered for him, but you felt as if your whole world crashed down on you. What? After all of that effort, you had put into getting close to wonder woman now this was what you were getting?

You approached Diana "This is not what we had made a deal on!" You said not so calmly "You are not ready." Diana said, making you groan "I've passed every damned test you had set up for me...now you are telling me I am not ready?" Diana sighed "You have to work on your anger management Y/N, your record is not clear enough!" You scoffed "It's not that! You all just want me to stay in the lower league to use me!" You yelled, now getting everyone's attention "You are all just a bunch of pricks that care about your friendships more than people's worth! Red Robin was chosen because he's Bateman's son, no one wants to have me here!"

"Come on Y/N, don't whine like little kids!" Conner said, making you glare at him "You shut up clone!" You insulted him, now saying what was in your mind for a long time, Conner's existence angered you to no end, Clark had taken his clone in, but not you! Why? He even had taken in a piece of dumb meat named Bizzaro and not you! Why? WHY? The question circled in your mind as your eyes found superman, who was looking at the whole ordeal with a worried look. Since the time you had joined in, he always was worried, he now could see the errors of what he had done, but it was too late...too late.

You punched Conner in the face, still not having the courage to attack Clark himself, so you took it upon his son's anger making you see red. Conner attacked you as well and soon you two were a bloody mess, punching each other, Conner was taken back by your friends as you were put down with help of Diana and Bruce. "You are suspended Y/N!" Bruce said "I don't fucking care!" You hissed, the taste of your blood on your tongue, as you were taken away, your powers suppressed with the use of kryptonate.

.....

"What do you want?" You mumbled as you saw Superman's large frame in the shadows, you tried to make yourself steady, your mind being not in the right state since you had inhaled too much pollen, trying to take your misery away, your foster father's impression on you still followed you in your late teen years. "Y/N, we can talk...you are taking it so hard on yourself!" Clark walked closer to you, now giving up his attention, fully. You couldn't help but chuckle at that as you tried to make yourself stay steady, you were out of the league for six months now, this time was enough for Clark and his family to realize your situation, you were giving up everything you had built for years.

"I don't care!" You said, chuckling bitterly as you sniffled more pollen, your vision turning blur. Clark reached out to you, but you refused his touch. "I wanted to be great...and I will be...just wait and see...I will be...one way or another!" Clark thought of what you were saying as result of the pollen drug but he didn't know what was in your mind "Y/N, you're not in the best condition to talk, let's get you somewhere safe so you can take that stuff out of your system!"

"No touching!" You slapped his hand away as you sat on a bench, the bushes around you slowly engulfing your body, Clark watched this and it felt like you were fading away "We'll meet again Superman..."your middle finger raised to let him know what you thought of him, and it was not good, at all. You'd meet him soon...

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: "Do you want me to hurt him?" / inspired by 'telephone' by lady gaga

♡ pairing: bart allen ( impulse ) x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / my schedule is going to become more sporadic starting next week :/ i'm going to keep the warning up until next week.

"Bart, shut up," you said, jokingly pushing him. he laughed, handing you the ice cream, "what? I'm serious! I just think that mint chocolate is better. if you have just mint, it'll taste like toothpaste and if you have just chocolate, it's too sweet so mint chocolate is a good even ground," he explained.

you felt your phone vibrate as Jinny spoke up, talking about how Bart and Connor shared one brain cell outside of the field. looking down to see who was ringing you, you saw that it was your god forsaken boyfriend for the 100th time.

"oooo, who is that?" Bart asked, looking over to your phone. he read the wall of text you had received but you quickly shut your phone off, not bothering to read it, "you gonna answer that?" he asked, a small bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him.

"don't really feel like it," you quickly said, trying to remain off that topic. Bart, clearly annoyed, snatched your phone and put it in his pocket, "than let's forget about him, right?" he asked, putting on his annoyed fake smile.

Tim and Jinny saw the very irritated face Bart had and looked to each other as they shook their heads, "those two I swear," Jinny huffed out in annoyance. "more like ( your name )," he replied, "Bart could admit his feelings to her face and she still wouldn't do anything about that horrid boyfriend of hers."

the two of them stifled giggles from each other as they watched the two of you continue to flirt openly. it was no secret to anyone on the team. it was very clear to everyone on the YJ team, the Titans, even the JLA knew that the two of you liked each other....a lot but it was that stupid boyfriend of yours that got in the way of Bart ever truly expressing his feelings for you.

"what is everyone's plans after this?" you asked the team as they all murmured different answers, indicating that they were all busy. you sighed, trying not go straight up at the moment because you knew that you'd have to deal with your boyfriends calls when you got there, "I'll stay out with ya!" Bart replied as he saw the empty park bench.

you gave him a grin, "thanks Allen. you're a life saver," you exclaimed, waving everyone off goodbye. you walked to the bench, Bart following right behind you as Bart felt your phone ringing again.

there had been a scarce few times where you did call Bart with your boyfriend problems. it was usually late at night. probably inching near three in the morning when you called him sobbing, asking him if you deserved to go through the bullshit you were dealing with your boyfriend.

Bart always felt himself getting angry whenever he received those calls. you sounded so heartbroken, tired, and emotional. he was always there to help pick you back up but not even a few days later, you were back with him, telling Bart that your boyfriend needed you now more than ever.

"he's still angry that you're hanging out with me? do you want me to hurt him?" he asked, finally taking your phone out of your pocket. you nodded, rolling your eyes, "Bart no. he thinks that my 'job' is taking too much time away from him and I being together. I swear, it's like hearing a broken record. one minute, he's mad and wants to break up and the next second, he's at my door asking for forgiveness," you explained, frustrated.

Bart squeezed your hand, tapping his fingers on top yours, "you know what you need to do," he replied, giving you a serious look. you stared at him, biting your lip, "it's hard, Bart. he's going through a lot and I'll feel guilty if I just leave him," you whispered taking his hand and holding it.

"you literally fight villains for a living and you're scared of that? you know you deserve more," Bart said, "and I've seen the way you look at other girls who decide to flirt with me," he joked, trying to break the tension. "shut up, it's not even like that," you lied, making Bart even laugh more. "but seriously, you know it's not secret that I like you." you sighed, not knowing what to say as you put your head on his shoulder.

the silence wasn't exactly awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. there had been multiple times when Bart had told you his true feelings for you and every time he did, you responded with a hum or a 'okay Bart'.

it wasn't that you didn't accept his true feelings. it was far from that. you actually did like the speedster but you knew Bart could do a lot better. you knew Bart deserved someone who actually deserved him and that person wasn't you. you weren't as cute or funny as he was. he deserved someone like Cassie. smart, funny, and cute.

+

the YJ tower was completely empty aside from you and Bart. everyone was out doing their own thing. Tim and Connor were at their respective homes. Jinny and Amethyst were out doing god knows what meanwhile Keli and Cassie had gone to the movies to watch a film they both had been dying to see so that just left you and Bart in the lair to do as you pleased.

"Bart, hand me the remote," you said lazily. he handed it to you as you turned it off, getting up and stretching yourself out. Bart stared at you confused, "why'd you turn it off? I was watching that!" he exclaimed. you threw the remote across the couch and getting him up, "lets do something productive and make dinner or something," you replied enthusiastically.

Bart rolled his eyes but got up nonetheless. he followed you to the kitchen as you played music through the speakers that were built on the wall. "what're you making?" he asked, seeing you take out things that made no sense.

you looked over your options and realized you could make some kind of stew or a soup of some kind. "beef and gravy stew! we have enough things to make enough for the team and seconds for the both of us," you said, getting the things from the cupboards and having Bart start to chop every thing up.

you knew Bart was dumb but that didn't mean he wasn't a kick ass cook. there had been multiple times where he had made everyone dinner or dinner even for the two of you and it always turned out amazing. you dumped every thing that Bart had chopped up and proud it into the pot before grabbing a few things from the fridge and making the gravy that had to poured in. it didn't take long but the two of you had to wait until the pot boiled up in order for it to be ready.

the song 'telepatia' by Kali Uchis played over the speakers as you finally turned over to Bart and smiled, "we just need for it to boil and it'll be ready!" you exclaimed. he nodded as you started singing the song out loud. not particularly towards him but a warm feeling in his gut made him get butterflies as you continued.

"you know I'm just a flight away, if you want it, you can take a private plane."

you looked up to Bart, wanting to give him another smile but he quickly got rid of any questioning thoughts and went in for a kiss. you were taken back in surprise. this was the first time Bart had ever put his feelings forward and actually gave you a kiss.

his kisses were soft. they weren't rushed which was ironic considering all Bart was, was being fast and always on the move. you had placed your hands on his thighs as you made the kiss even deeper. it took you a few seconds to register what you were doing when alarms rang off in your head. you had a boyfriend and by continuing to kiss Bart, you were technically cheating on him.

"Bart no, I can't," you murmured, pushing yourself off of him. he gave you a defeated look, understanding where you coming from, "I'm sorry," you replied, going back to the food and trying to forget that you even made the move to reciprocate the kiss. in the back of your mind though, knew it that kiss meant that you had fell for Bart and hard.

+

"I have to head home, it's getting late and we patrol tomorrow night so I think it's best we head back," you whispered knowing you'd have to deal with your stingy boyfriend when you got home. Bart gave your hand one more squeeze before getting up, "see you later," Bart murmured, getting the inkling feeling that he'd probably receive a phone call tonight from you.

you nodded, making your way towards your apartment. you had a fuck ton of messages from your boyfriend and over ten missed calls by the time you sat comfortably in your couch. you finally dialed him back, instantly getting a bunch of curse words thrown at you for not picking up.

it felt like hours when the two of you finally stopped arguing with each other. it ended with you in tears and your voice hoarse as you had finally grown the nerve to break up with him. you knew for your mental health that it was time to do it and truthfully, your feelings for Bart were growing more and more every time you saw him. there was no point in continuing the relationship if you were no longer having feelings for him and although you felt guilty by doing it, you ripped it off like a band aid.

you grabbed your phone and clicked on Bart's number. Bart on the other hand shifted in his bed, seeing your contact light up his phone. he groggily picked it up, "hey," he said in that sleepy tone of his. you hiccuped, trying to control your tears, "can you come over?" you whispered, the crack of thunder scaring you shitless, "I really need someone right now."

Bart sighed, telling you to give him a minute before hanging up. Bart had no idea how many more of these late night sleepovers he had left in him. he sped over to your place, grabbing the secret key from the back of the broken piece of wood that was attached to your door frame. he opened it, seeing you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and your hiccups still overcoming your body.

"what's wrong?" he asked. you stared at him, tears instantly rushing down your face, "I deserve to be happy right?" he nodded almost immediately, "than why do I feel so shitty because I broke up with him?" you asked.

Bart stared at you, not believing what he was hearing. you had finally broken up with that shitty boyfriend and he was the first person you contacted.

"because that's what manipulative people do ( your name )," he whispered, "they make you feel like shit for things that you didn't even do. you're perfect and he didn't deserve you or anyone like you. especially you though," he joked, bracing you even harder for a hug. he knew it would be wrong to try and make a move but gave you a kiss on the top of your head and whispered nothing but supportive things into your ear as you tried to calm yourself down.

the rain happening outside and Bart's words were lulling you to sleep as Bart hadn't even realized that you were passing out on his side. it wasn't until you hadn't moved that Bart realized you were not longer awake. he grabbed your body, lifting you up bridal style before making his way to your room.

he placed you down on your bed with every intention of just letting you sleep and him heading home but you grabbed onto his body, sleepily saying that he was going to stay here. you hadn't even said it as a question but more as a statement. he didn't argue with it; however, and he had thankfully came over in his pajamas as he scooted you over a bit and crawled in.

you smiled softly, hugging him instantly and passing out once again. Bart placed a small kiss on the top of your head before whispering into your ear, "you'll be mine one day, didn't I tell you that?" he murmured before trying to fall back asleep.

[madamechatterlaine]

reading some more of Sodomy and the Pirate Tradition, and thinking abt pirate history and the modern day. Saw a lot of discourse around OFMD a while back, and generally have had discussions about glorifying terrible people in Pirate Media, that I get the sense miss the mark in terms of how history is written about infamous pirates & crews. It’s not really, in my opinion, possible to definitively claim that a story about a famous pirate is forgetting the real person’s history, because so often that history is shaky as best. The thing that sets Caribbean piracy apart from, say, a story about the English nobility, is that so much of what we know of that period and the significant figures within it is either: 1) speculation 2) explicit fiction (or pseudo-fiction)

Which isn’t to say these people were secretly GREAT individuals, most of them probably genuinely were as bad or nearly as bad as the stories suggest. But it’s also important to remember how unreliable the historical record is when it comes to concrete facts about pirates. Take Henry Morgan, for example: terrible dude, and someone we know a (relatively) large amount about, since he was literate and wrote letters which can be used to corroborate the already historically significant events he was involved in. Yet when it comes to the in-between, the things that make Henry Morgan a person (and in a story, the things that would inform his politics and character), some of it is derived SOLELY from a single account written by a man who almost certainly invented events to make the man look bad. The things we definitively know, on the other hand, are largely Events more than information about him as a person. We can make educated guesses based on Morgan’s class, verifiable actions, and the social opinion surrounding him, but key events in his life are going to remain murky and contradictory.

This is true to a much larger degree about your general pirate, who unlike Morgan was NOT literate and would not have had a biographer on board the crew. It’s basically impossible to know most of the “real history” behind pirates like Blackbeard, because all we have are secondhand accounts of Events (such as his death or the blockade of Charleston) and next to no information about who he was or what day-to-day life was aboard his ship. The politics he engaged in are, likewise, murky. We can make assumptions based on contemporary stories of the Fearsome Pirate Blackbeard, and corroborate some of that with what we knew of documented, legitimate sailing culture, but we’re not even 100% certain Edward Thatch (or Teach) is his real name. Most of our information, though, is a matter of popular consciousness - Blackbeard burned wicks in his beard because one borderline fictitious account of the man says he did.

To say that portraying Blackbeard (or Jack Rackham, or Stede Bonnett, or Black Bart, or whomever) as a good person is ignoring the “real history” of those individuals can’t stand up against how that “real history” is compiled. It’s all conjecture, there ISN’T a real history to spurn because so little of the stories of these people is grounded in any verifiable fact.

That isn’t to suggest we shouldn’t heavily interrogate the way we tell a pirate story, and (to center OFMD), especially a pirate story seeking to rehabilitate character whose primary trait is being a plantation owner from Barbados. We should, we should have long, long discussions on these things. But they have to be held on the battleground of verifiable historical fact and the social role of pirate narratives - not on whether or not you’re being true to a “real” pirate who is more character than person anyways.

[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. 

[melisa-may-taylor72]

QUEEN BEFORE QUEEN

THE 1960s RECORDINGS

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

PART 4:

THE OPPOSITION

JOHN DEACON WAS THE QUIETEST MEMBER OF A MIDLAND-BASED FIVE-PIECE WHOSE GREATEST AMBITION WAS TO PLAY ANOTHER GIG.

Initial research John S. Stuart. Additional research and text: Andy Davis.

John Deacon was the fourth and final member to join Queen. He became part of that regal household 25 years ago this month, enrolling as the band’s permanent bassist in February 1971. His acceptance marked the culmination of a six-year ‘career’ in music, much of which he spent in an amateur, Leicestershire covers band called the Opposition.

From 1965 until 1969, Deacon and his schoolmates ploughed a humble, local furrow in and around their Midlands hometown, reflecting the decade’s mercurial moodswing with a series of names, images and styles of music. The most remarkable fact about the Opposition was just how unremarkable the group actually was.

Collectively, they were an unambitious crew: undertaking precisely no trips down to London to woo A&R men; winning only one notable support slot for the army of chart bands who visited Leicester in the ‘60s (opening for Reperata & the Delrons in Melton Mowbray in 1968); and managing even to miss out on the option of sending a demo tape to any of the nation’s record labels. The band’s saving grace is its solé recorded legacy: a three-track acetate — although even this was done for purely private consumption, and has rarely been aired outside the confines of their inner circle.

It is perhaps indicative of the Opposition’s modest outlook that their most promising bid for stardom, a beat contest, was called off before they had the chance to play in the finals. For John Deacon and friends, it seems, merely being in a band was reward enough.

Considering of all of this, it’s easy to imagine the response to the following story, related in the ‘60s to one of the Opposition’s guitarists, Ronald Chester:...[ ]

...[ ] “There was a teacher who worked at Beauchamp School, which John attended, who told fortunes. They went to see her one Saturday and were told, ‘John Deacon is going to be world famous and very, very rich. Of course, they all fell about laughing. She was determined that this was going to happen. But they all thought it was a joke."

What particularly amused Deacon’s colleagues was the unlikeliness of this scenario, given the plain facts of his demeanour. John was born in Leicester in 1951, the product of affluent, middle-class, middle England. As a youngster, he was known to his friends as ‘Deaks’ and grew up to be quiet and reserved, what Mark Hodkinson referred to in ‘Queen — ‘The Early Years’ as “a ghost of a boy".

“He is basically shy,” confirms Richard Young, the Opposition’s first guitarist/vocalist, and later keyboardist. “I suppose he was quieter than the rest of us — but he was fairly static with Queen if you look at him on stage.”

Ron Chester agrees: “John was quiet by nature. His sister, Julie, was the same. Once he got going, though, he wasn’t any different from anybody else. But on first approach, you really had to coax him out of his shell. We’d have to pick him up. He couldn’t walk down the road to meet us."

CONFIDENT

Despite any lack of personal dynamics, Deacon was a capable teenager: “He was very confident," recalls another of the band’s guitarists, David Williams. “But in a laidback sort of way. He didn’t have a problem with anything. ‘Yeah, I can do that’, he’d say. We used to call him ‘Easy Deacon’, not because of any sexual preferences, but because he’d say something was easy without it sounding big-headed. I remember saying to him once, I’m going to have to knock off the gigs a bit to revise for my ‘A’ levels. What about you?’ ‘No’, he said, ‘I don’t need to. I’ve never failed an exam yet, and I’ve never revised for one’. Ultimately, he was just confident, with a phenomenally logical mind. If he couldn’t remember something, he could work it out. And, of course, he got stunning results.”

John’s earliest interest was electronics, which he studied into adulthood. He also went fishing, trainspotting even, with his father. Then music took over. After dispensing with a ‘Tommy Steele’ toy guitar, John used the proceeds from his paper round to buy his first proper instrument, an acoustic, when he was about twelve. An early musical collaborator was a school mate called Roger Ogden, who like Roger Taylor down in Cornwall, was nicknamed ‘Splodge’. But his best friend was the Opposition’s future drummer, Nigel Bullen.

“I’d first got to know John at Langmore Junior School in Oadby, just outside Leicester, in either 1957 or 1958,’' recalls Nigel. “We were both the quiet ones. We started playing music together at Gartree High School, when we were about thirteen. We were inspired by the Beatles — they made everybody want to be in a group. John was originally going to be the band’s electrician, as he called it. He used to build his own radios, before we had any amps, and he fathomed a way of plugging his guitar into his reel-to-reel tape recorder. He was always the electrical boffin."

The prime mover in the formation of the group was another Oadby boy they met on nearby Uplands Park, Richard Young. “Richard was at boarding school," recalls Nigel Bullen. “He was always the kid with the expensive bike. He played guitar, and what’s more had a proper electric, with an amplifier. He instigated getting the band together. Initially, we rehearsed in my garage, and then anywhere we could. John played rhythm to begin with. He was a chord man, the John Lennon of the group, if you like."

SWITCH

Despite his later switch to the bass, Deacon’s technique on the guitar also developed, as Dave Williams reveals: “Later on, I remember he could play ‘Classical Gas’ on an acoustic, which was a finger-picking execise and no mean feat. It’s a bit like ‘McArthur Park’, a fantastic piece of music, and when I heard it, I thought, ‘Bloody hell. You dark horse!’ Because he never showed off."

The Opposition’s first bassist was another school friend of John’s called Clive Castledine. In fact, the group made its debut at a party at Castledine’s ouse on 25th September, 1965 (their first public performance took place the...[ ]

...[ ] following month at Gartree’s school hall). Clive looked good and appreciated the kudos of being in a group, but he wasn’t up to even the Opposition’s schoolboy standards. “I was the least proficient, to put it mildly,” he admitted to Mark Hodkinson.“His enthusiasm was 100%,” adds Richard Young, “but his actual playing ability was null, so we had a meeting and got rid of him.” Deacon took over, initially playing on his regu­lar guitar, using the bottom strings. “John was good,” Young continues. “It was no problem for him to switch to bass. He hit the right notes at the beginning of the bar, and we were a better band for it. Whereas Clive made us sound woolly, as anyone who just plonked away on any old note would, John was solid.”

DIARY

Young turned out to be the Opposition’s archivist, keeping a diary of each gig played, the equipment used, and the amounts of money earned (as indeed did John Deacon). Richard’s diary documented the day Deacon — now, of course, bassist in one of the world’s most famous groups — first picked up his chosen instrument. “In an entry for 2nd April, 1966,” says Young, “it reads, ‘We threw Clive out on the Saturday afternoon. Had a practice in Deaks’ kitchen, and Deaks went on bass. Played much better.’ John didn’t have a bass, so we went down to Cox’s music shop in King Street in Leicester, and bought him an EKO bass for £60. I paid for it, but I think he paid me back eventually.”

“John’s bass style with the Opposition was the same as with Queen,” reckons Nigel Bullen. “He never used to play with a plectrum, which was unusual, but with his fingers, which meant that his right hand is drooped over the top of the guitar. Also, he plays in an upward fashion, which I’d never seen before, certainly when we were in Leices­ter. Over the years, I’ve watched many bass players adopt that style. I’d say he has been copied a lot. I’ve mentioned this to him, but he doesn’t agree.”

Clive Castledine wasn’t the last member of the band to be dismissed. “The vocal and lead guitar side of the Opposition was changing all the while,” recalls Nigel. “Myself, John, and Richard Young were always there — as were Dave Williams and Ron Chester later on — but we had a succession of other musicians who I can hardly remember now. There was a guy called Richard Frew in the very early days, and a young lad called Carl, but he didn’t fit in. After we began playing proper gigs, Richard decided he wasn’t happy with his singing and wanted to move onto keyboards, so we brought in Pete Bart (formerly with another local band, the Rapids Rave) as a guitarist and vocalist. He was good, but again, didn’t last long.”

“Bart was a bit of a rocker, while we were all mods,” remarks Dave Williams. “We were impressed by mod bands like the Small Faces and the original Who. Bart seemed to come from a different era altogether.”

“Deaks had the Parka with the fur collar,” remembers Ron Chester. “And short hair, a crew cut. Mirrors on his scooter.” Richard Young agrees: “John was more of a mod than us. But you couldn’t really pigeonhole the band, because our music went right across the board”.

”Buying Deacon his bass was no one-off, and Richard Young is remembered as the group’s benefactor. Being older than the others, he had a steady job working for his father’s electronics company in Leicester, which brought him a regular, and by all accounts, generous wage. He rarely thought twice before splashing out on equipment for the other members.

RECEIPTS

“Richard bought me a P.A.,” recalls David Williams. “But he didn’t ask, he used to think that the group needed it. He’d buy it and then say, ‘You owe me this’. My mum used to get really annoyed. She’d was at that going- through-my-pockets stage, probably looking for contraceptives. She once found a receipt from Moore and Stanworth’s, a local music shop. It was for a Beyer microphone, which cost about £30. I was still at school, getting pocket money, and my mum said, ‘What on earth is this?!’ Receipts on the Sunday dinner table, that sort of thing. It was good, though. The group needed it.”

“I was dead serious about the band,” claims Young, who switched to organ with the arrival of Williams in July 1966. “Perhaps more so than anybody else. I could see it going nowhere if money wasn’t pumped into it.”

“Dick Young was an accomplished organ player,” adds Dave, “and he improved the group quite a lot. He always had plenty of dosh, and a car. But he was totally mad, a crazy bloke. He’d come round with an organ one week, then next week, he’d have a better one. He ended up with a Farfisa, with one keyboard on it, then one with two keyboards — one above the other. Then he had a Hammond, an L 100. which was really heavy. Then he had a ‘B’ series one. The ‘L’ was top-of-the-range and he sawed it in half to make it easier to carry!”

Dave Williams helped to improve the group as well. “He was at school with us,” says Nigel Bullen, “but in another band, who we always looked up to.” That band was the Leeds-based Outer Limits (who went on to issue several singles — without Dave — in the late ‘60s). “I joined the Opposition after they asked me to watch them and tell them what I thought,” recounts Dave. “The Outer Limits were older lads, all mods, but I was after something a bit more easy going, and the Opposition were my own age. They were okay, but I first saw them at John’s house, when they were still practising in bedrooms, and they were absolutely awful. I said, ‘Have you thought of tuning up?’ They said they had. But it sounded like they were playing in different keys — totally horrendous. It was so funny. They were so conscientious, they’d all learned their bits, but hadn't tuned up to each other. That was my first tip.”

“Our first proper gig was supporting a local band, the Rapids Rave, at Enderby Coop Hall,” recalls Nigel Bullen. “They used to play at this village hall every week. and then we ended up doing it every week for quite some time.” Richard’s diary records the Opposition’s debut taking place on 4th December 1965, and that the band’s fee was £2. Thereafter, they began to offer their Services in the local ‘Oadby & Wigston Advertiser’, which led to bookings in youth clubs and village halls in local hot-spots like Kibworth, Houghton-on- the-Hill, Thurlaston and Great Glen.

SCHOOL WORK

By spring 1966, the Opposition were playing every weekend, school work permitting. The peaks and troughs of their career are illustrated by the following memorable gigs: one at St. George’s Ballroom, Hinckley, on 23rd June 1967, when just two people turned up and the band went home after a couple of numbers; and a September appearance in a series of shows at U.S. Airforce Bases in the Midlands, at which they were required to play for four-and-half hours with just two twenty-minute breaks. It was nothing if not diverse.

“It didn’t seem to matter what you played,” says Dave. “People would clap simply because you were making music. They never said, ‘Do you do Motown, or soul stuff?’ ” The band’s repertoire initially consisted of chart sounds and the poppier end of the R&B spectrum. “Although we were inspired by the Beatles, we never did any of their songs,” claims Nigel. “But we covered the Kinks, the Yardbirds, and things like Them’s ‘Gloria’, and the Zombies’ ‘She’s Not There’.

They also altered their name slightly to the New Opposition, which they unveiled at the Enderby Coop Hall. “The name-change was decided overnight, when John moved from rhythm to bass guitar,” recounts Richard, whose diary records the date of the transition as 29th April 1966. Interestingly, though, it makes no mention of another local group also called the Opposition, long thought to have been the reason for Deacon’s crew adopting the ‘New’. The change did act as an impetus for further development, however, instigated by Dave Williams, who soon took over as the group’s lead vocalist.

“When I joined they were doing all Beach Boys stuff,” he recalls, “and I think I may have brought in a little credibility. In the Outer Limits, I’d been playing John Mayall, the Yardbirds, that sort of thing, plus that group was into really good soul like the Impressions, and fantastic vocal bands from the States. So I had a broad musical knowledge by then, whereas the Opposition had been a bit poppy.” Appropriately, the words “Tamla” and “Soul” were now added to the Opposition’s ads and calling cards.

Towards the end of 1966, the New Opposition were enhanced further by the arrival of Ron Chester, who’d previously played with Dave Williams in the Outer Limits, as well as in an earlier band, the Deerstalkers. “Ron Chester was a bit eccentric,” claims Richard Young. “He never used to go anywhere without his deerstalker. He was a really good guitarist (“stunning”, adds Dave Williams). We were probably at our best when Ron was in the band.”

On 23rd October 1966, the New Opposition entered the local Midland Beat Contest. They won their heat, landing themselves a place in the semifinals on 29th January 1967. They won this, too, and steeled themselves for the finals, which were due to be held on 3rd March 1967, when they were to be pitched against...[ ]

...[ ] an act called Keny. The stars of the show would have been the nearest the Opposition came to having a rival: an outfit called Legay. (A year later, incidentally, this band issued a now collectable single, “No One” (Fontana TF 904,£80J.) Unfortunately, for all concerned, however, the contest never took place. “That was a fiasco,'' laughs Ron. “Somehow we won those heats, but in fact, I don’t remember seeing anybody else playing. I don’t know whether we won by default or not. After that, they pulled the plug on the competition — probably because they knew we’d be playing again!”.

CASINO

“The heats took place in a club in Leicester called the Casino, which was the place to play,” adds Nigel. “The guy who ran the competition was an agent for the club. His company was called Penguin (or P.S) Promotions and he walked like a penguin too, with his feet sticking out. The final was going to be held in the De Montford Hall, which is still the main venue in Leicester. We thought, ‘Crumbs, this is it, perhaps we might make the big time.’ But the guy did a runner with all the money — people had to pay to come to the heats. So the final was called off.”

David Williams wasn’t too fussed, as he scored another prize that night: “I remember taking a girl back to Dick’s car on the strength of us winning our heat. I said, ‘Can I borrow your keys, Dick? He said, ‘What for? You can’t drive!’ “

Were the New Opposition — or the Opposi­tion, as they dropped the ‘New’ again in early 1967 — left in limbo by the cancellation of the Beat Contest? Having achieved the most public recognition of their talents so far, were they disappointed with the loss of the chance to prove themselves further?

“No. It was almost insignificant,” reckons Ron. “We didn’t really look upon it as a stairway to stardom.” And what would John Deacon have thought? “Nothing really,” suggests Chester. “ ‘It’s cancelled. What are we doing next, then?’ That would have been about the depth of it. We were a village band, all gathering at the church hall to try and improve our abilities. The financial aspect of it wasn’t in the forefront of our minds. We were more concerned with our music, and if we could get a booking doing it as well, to pay off some of the equipment, then that was a real bonus. Three bookings a week was enough for us while we were working or still at school.” Despite any dodgy dealings, history does have the Penguin promoter to thank for the only professionally-taken photograph of the Opposition. (“We didn’t go much on photos in the band,” remembers Dave Williams.) On Tuesday, 31st January 1967, two days after winning the semi-finals, the ‘Leicester Mercury’ dispatched a staff photographer over to Richard Young’s parents’ house in Oadby. Here, the group lined-up in the front room, looking more like refugees from 1964, rather than 1967. The only indications of the actual date are perhaps Ron Chester’s deerstalker hat and the ridiculous length of David Williams’ shirt collars — seven inches, no less, from neck to nipple.

“Dave was very extrovert,” recalls Nigel. “But we all had those silk shirts with the great long collars made by our mums and grandmas for our stage gear.” Dave admits: “Our clothes were all a bit mixed up. We had silk shirts with tweed jackets — which were fashionable for a while — and bell-bottoms. Musically, we were pretty good, better than...[ ]

...[ ] most of the local bands around that time, but we had this squeaky-clean, schoolboy image which let us down. I used to get frustrated when we were billed with other bands, and they’d all play with so many wrong chords but had a better image and still the punters applauded. Were they stupid? We were still at school — we didn’t leave until we were eighteen — and weren’t allowed to grow our hair long”.

“After the mod thing,” he continues, “long hair became really important. Bands were growing their hair right down their backs. I remember getting to one gig with John and Nigel a year or so later, and the other group were already on. And when they saw us they turned round and said, ‘Look! They’ve got no hair!’. We were quite upset about that”.

“We also went through the flower-power look,” Dave adds. “And then we got into those little jumpers without any sleeves that Paul McCartney used to wear, the ones so small that half your stomach showed. And then it was grandad shirts without the collars and flares.” Ron Chester: “The flowery shirts and flared trousers were everywhere. We looked like a right shower of poofters. But so did everybody else. You stood out if you didn’t wear them.”

1967 also heralded the arrival of an additional attraction to the Opposition’s stage show: two go-go dancers. At least, it did if the existing literature on the subject is to be believed. “I vaguely remember it,” admits Richard, “but speaking to Nig, neither of us can recal who those dancers were”.

Dave Williams throws some light on the subject: “They were the jet-set girls of the sixth form, they came from the big houses. They came to a couple of gigs and just started dancing. Somebody who booked us for the following week actually advertised us ‘with go-go girls’. But they were never really part of the show.”

ART

On 16th March, 1968 for a gig at Gartree School, the Opposition changed their name once again. “We called ourselves Art,” reveals Nigel, “because Dave was arty, that is, he was training as an artist. It was as simple as that.” Dave agrees: “It was my idea, because I’d been doing art at school.” Nigel Bullen was aware of another band using that name around the same time (the pre-Spooky Tooth outfit), but assuming them to be American, reckoned they’d be no confusion. As the Leicester-based Art never made it to London, there wasn’t.

Despite wording like “A time to touch and feel, to taste and experience, to hear and understand” appearing on the group’s tickets, Richard maintains that Art was “just the same band” as before. “Nothing changed."

“It was mutton dressed up as lamb, really,” admits Ron Chester. “We thought if we were called something different, people might come because they were curious. But it didn’t make a lot of difference. The audiences were captive at the places we played anyway. There was nowhere else to go on a Friday or Saturday night. Everyone used to roll up to see whoever was on, whether they’d heard of them or not.”

1968 was the year psychedelia caught up with many provincial British bands. The Art were no different, but their acknowledgement of what had been last year’s scene in London was via sight rather than sound. Their light shows seem to have been particularly memo­rable, as Dave Williams explains: “They were brilliant. We used the projectors from school, filled medicine bottles with water and oil, and projected through them to get this lovely golden, amber backdrop. As the image came out upside down, when we poured in some Fairy Liquid, it dropped straight through in a blob, but came out on the wall like a giant green mushroom cloud. It was amazing, and we had about four of them at the back, projecting over the band.”

John Deacon was party to another of Dave’s exploits. “One day,” recalls Williams, “John and I bought a 100-watt P.A. — which was pretty big for those days — and took it into the lecture theatre full of kids at Beauchamp School (which Deacon had attended since September 1966) for our version of Arthur Brown’s ‘Fire’. We cranked it up as loud as we could, put the light show on, and let off these smoke bombs, which were DDT pellets we’d got from the chemist. All the kids started choking, and then the headmaster walked in...[ ]

...[ ] with a load of governors. You could see the fury in his face. One of the governors asked what we were doing. ‘It’s a demonstration in sound and light, sir,’ I said. ‘We’re using these ink bottles turned upside down, but we’re a bit worried about these DDT pellets so we might knock the smoke on the head, but we’re still experimenting.’ And he fell for it!”.

INFLUENTIAL

Towards the end of 1968, a crop of new groups began to have a profound effect on the maturing schoolboys: Jethro Tull, the Nice, Taste, and in particular Deep Purple. Ron: “We used to buy Purple records and learn to play them. We’d seen John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers and the Downliners’ Sect in Leicester, the Nice, King Crimson. These sort of groups. We learned a lot from just watching them. They were influential. There was always a big discussion in the band as to whether we should do a particular song. Once we’d decided that, there’d be another big discussion as to how we should do it. Everybody had their say.”

Hair, too, had finally began to grow: “John grew his quite long,” recalls Ron. “We all had longish hair, but not shoulder length. We couldn’t look too unkempt for the normal side of life, but we didn’t want to be too prissy for the other end of the spectrum. That was when we started playing universities, and we went a bit heavier. The audiences were far more serious minded about music and more enthusiastic. In some of the youth clubs we’d been playing, the audience would be moving around on roller skates, or peeling bananas all over the place, things like that”.

“We felt we were making an impression towards the last year or two of the band,” he continues. But it went no further: “We were at school, some of us had jobs, and there was an element of common sense overriding what we would have liked to have done. None of us wanted to chuck in our apprenticeships or courses. If we’d had a flair for writing our own material, we might have taken off. But we just played what was popular, nothing different from most other groups. That wasn’t a basis on which to launch ourselves. So it never happened."

“We didn’t think that far ahead,” admits Richard Young. “I just thought of playing and getting repeat bookings. John was probably the least ambitious of all of us, to be honest. I think he felt that there was no mileage in what we were doing, although it was good fun. I think he had the impression that this was a hobby, a phase he was going through.”

Sometime in the Sixties, possibly 1969, but maybe earlier, Art recorded an acetate. Whatever the date, the crucial point is that John Deacon was present at the session. “We weren't asked to do it,” recalls Nigel. “We just wanted to make a disc. I think it cost us about five shillings.”

The venue was Beck’s studio, thirty miles south east of Oadby in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire. “I’d never been in a studio before and it seemed awesome, really,” recalls Dave Williams. “It was a fairly decent-sized room for acoustics. It was all nicely low-lit, with lots of screens. The guy knew what he was doing.” Richard Young was less impressed, though: I’ve been in studios all my life,” he says. “That was just another session. Nothing about it stood out.”

The “guy” Dave remembered was engineer Derek Tomkins, who informed the group that they could record three tracks in the time allotted. “We’d only gone in there with two, ‘Sunny’ and ‘Vehicle’,” says Nigel, “and we didn’t want to waste the opportunity, so Richard knocked up a little instrumental called Transit 3’ — named after our new van, the third one — right there in the studio. Although we were purely a covers band, everybody had a bash at writing, but we never did anything of our own on stage. The exception was Transit 3’, which was incorporated into the set after this session.”

“ Transit 3’ was about about the only track we ever wrote," reckons Richard Young (“Heart Full Of Soul”, as reported in ‘As It Began’, is in fact a Graham Gouldman nurnber). “I initially had the idea, but I can’t really remember anything about it. It’s very basic. It wouldn’t take a great deal of effort to write something like that.” To the objective observer, “Transit 3”, taped in mono but well recorded, is a fairly uncomplicated, organ-led scale- hopper, reminiscent of Booker T & the MGs.

 “Everybody was listening to ‘Green Onions’,” confirms Nigel, “so Booker T would have been an influence there.” But for all that, it’s well- played, with memorable lead and twangy, wah-wah guitar passages courtesy of Dave Williams. And, crucially, John Deacon’s thumping bass is plainly audible throughout. On this evidence, the Opposition were clearly a tight, confident outfit. “Transit 3” could have been incorporated into any swinging ‘60s film soundtrack, and no one would have jumped up shouting, “Amateurs”!.

UNFAMILIAR

The other two tracks, covers of Bobby Hebb’s ‘Sunny' and the more obscure, soul- tinged ‘Vehicle’ (later a hit for the Ides of March), featured a vocalist, but an unfamiliar one: another of the Opposition’s fleeting frontmen. “We had a singer for a while called Alan Brown,” recalls Nigel. “He came and went fairly quickly. He was good, really good. Too good for us, I think. That wasn’t him saying that. We just knew it.”

On both songs, Brown is in deep, soulful voice, sounding not unlike a cross between Tom Jones and the early Van Morrison — if such an amalgam can be imagined. The Art’s reading of “Vehicle” is edgy and robust, dominated by Richard Young’s distinctive keyboards and Nigel Bullen’s bustling drum work. Dave Williams is again in fine form, delivering more sparkling wah-wah guitar, while on the cassette copy taped from Nigel Bullen’s acetate, at least, John’s bass is very prominent, over-recorded in fact, booming in the mix.

“Sunny” goes one better, breaking into jazzy 3/4 time halfway through, before slotting back into the more traditional 4/4. It’s an imaginative arrangement, with alternate soloing from both Dave and Richard, while the whole track is underpinned by swirls of Hammond organ and John Deacon’s pounding bass.

“We did ‘Sunny’ as part of our stage set,” says Nigel, “but I don’t recall us ever going into the jazzy bit. That’s quite interesting. We might have talked about that before we went into the studio, but I think it was just for this session. Dave had two guitars, a six-string and a twelve-string, or it could even have been twin-necked. I still quite like the wah-wah he played on that track. By this time Richard would have been onto his second or third organ — he was heavily into Hammonds and Leslies."

Operating as they did in a fairly ambition- free zone, and having prepared the listener for a mundane set of recordings with their trademark laid-back approach, Art’s acetate comes as something of a revelation. Let any bunch of today’s schoolboys loose in a studio for an afternoon and defy them to come up with something half as good!

Just two copies of the Art disc are known to have survived. John Deacon’s mother is believed to own one and Nigel Bullen has the other. “I’d forgotten all about this record,” admits Nigel. “We know that one copy was converted to an ashtray!. We stubbed out cigarettes on Richards at rehearsal one night.” Although treated with anything but respect at the time, the importance of the disc is now apparent to Nigel Bullen: “This is probably John Deacon’s first recording, apart from tracks he did in his bedroom on his reel-to-...[ ]

...[ ] reel, which are probably long gone. Although, knowing John, they’re probably not!”

The beginning of the end for Art came in June 1969, when John Deacon left Beauchamp. With a college course lined up in London, his days with the band were obviously numbered. He played his final gig with the group on 29th August at a familiar venue, Great Glen Youth and Sports Centre Club. By October, he’d moved to London to study electronics at Chelsea College of Technology, part of the University of London.

Another blow was dealt in November, when the band's lynchpin, Richard Young, left to join popular local musician Steve Fearn in Fearn’s Brass Foundry.

“They were a Blood, Sweat and Tears-type of group,” recalls Richard, “and paid better money than I’d been used to. I was out five nights a week, on about £3 per night, against an average of about £10 between us.” The previous year, Richard had played session keyboards on the Foundry’s two Decca singles: “Don’t Change It” (F 12721, January 1968, £10) and “Now I Taste The Tears” (F 12835. September 1968, £8).

SAVAGE

Ron Chester departed shortly afterwards, and gave up music: “I left in the early 70s, after John Deacon moved to London. John was replaced by a bass player was called John Savage, who unsettled me. He had different tastes and drove us a bit hard. His approach was totally different from Deaks's, and he was much more interested in the financial side of things. We’d all been mates before, we didn't just knock about for the band. It just wasn’t the same.”

Nigel, Richard and Dave pushed on into 1970 with the new bassist, changing the band’s name again, this time to Silky Way. They returned to Beck’s studio to record a cover of Free’s “Loosen Up” with another vocalist, Bill Gardener, but that was the band’s last effort. Dave left after falling into Nigel’s drumkit, drunk on stage at a private party one Christmas. “I waited for them to pick me up the next day,” he recalls sheepishly, “but they never carne.”

Richard and Nigel moved into a dinner- dance type outfit called the Lady Jane Trio — “Corny, or what!”, laughs Bullen — but Nigel left music altogether soon afterwards to con­centrate on his college work. Richard turned professional, moving into cabaret with the Steve Fearn-less Brass Foundry, before forming a trio called Rio, finding regular work on the holiday camp and overseas cruise circuit. In the late ‘70s, he joined a touring version of the Love Affair.

Down in London, John Deacon caught a glimpse of his future world-beating musical partners as early as October 1970, when he saw the newly-formed Queen perform at College of Estate Management in Kensington. “They were all dressed in black, and the lights were very dim too,” he told Jim Jenkins and Jacky Gunn in ‘As It Began’, “All I could really see were four shadowy figures. They didn’t make a lasting impression on me at the time.”

While renting rooms in Queensgate, John formed a loose R&B quartet with a flatmate, guitarist Peter Stoddart, one Don Cater on drums and another guitarist remembered only as Albert. The new band was hardlv a great leap forward from Art: they wrote no originals, and when asked to perform their only gig at Chelsea College on 21st November 1970, supporting Hardin & York and the Idle Race, they hastily billed themselves — in a rare fit of self-publicity for the quiet Oadby boy — as Deacon.

A few months later in early 1971, John was introduced to Brian May and Roger Taylor by a mutual friend, Christine Farnell, at a disco at Maria Assumpta Teacher Training College. They were looking for a bassist. John auditioned at Imperial College shortly after­wards. Roger Taylor recalled Queen’s initial reaction to Deacon in ‘As It Began’: “We thought he was great. We were so used to each other, and so over the top, we thought that because he was quiet he would fit in with us without too much upheaval. He was a great bass player, too — and the fact that he was a wizard with electronics was definitely a deciding factor!”

How did the members of the Art/Opposition back in Leicester, view John’s success with Queen? “It wasn’t sudden”, says Ron Chester. “First we heard he’d got into another group. We couldn’t believe that — were they deaf? There were all these sort of jokes going along. Then we heard he’d got a recording contract and the next thing he had a record out. It was a gradual progression. No one dreamed he would end up the way he did.”

“I don’t think we expected success for any of us" admits Nigel Bullen. “Richard maybe. He was the first one to go professional. But when John left for London to go to college, he left all his kit here. I thought that was the end of it for him. He had absolutely no intention of continuing. His college course was No.1. It was only after he kept seeing adverts for bass players in the ‘Melody Maker’ that he became interested again.”

He also seemed to lose some of that ‘Easy Deacon’ touch which so impressed Dave Williams in the ‘60s. “He’d ring up these bands,” continues Nigel, “but when he found they were a name act, he bottle out. When he went to auditions for anonymous bands, where he would queue up with about thirty other bass players, he had a bit of confidence. He just wanted to play in a decent band. Once I heard what Queen had recorded at De Lane Lea, and John played me the demo of their first album, I thought they were well set.”

CABARET

By early 1973, Dave Williams had forsaken a career in animation to join Highly Likely, a cabaret outfit put together by Mike Hugg and producer Dave Hadfield on the back of their minor hit, “Whatever Happened To You (The Likely Lads Theme)”. While Dave was in the band, they recorded a follow-up single which wasn’t released, before evolving into a glam rock outfit, Razzle, which later become the Ritz, who issued a few singles. “During Queen’s early days, before they’d had any real success, John came to see us once,” recalls Dave, “and said, ‘I wish I was in a band like this which could actually play some gigs’.” Dave concludes: “I remember John coming round once around that time, saying I’ve got a demo’. ‘So have I!’, I said. So we put his on first, and the first track was ‘Keep Yourself Alive’. My mouth dropped wide open and I thought. ‘Bloody hell! What a great track’. I remember saying that the guitarist was as good as Ritchie Blackmore — who was still our hero then — and thinking ‘They’re serious about this. This is the real thing’.”

RECORD COLLECTOR Nº 198 FEBRUARY 1996

⬅PREVIOUS: SMILE

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[internalsealpanic]

Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

mood board by: @knightfall05x​ (wuv you)

summary: You, Tim, and Kon try to bake. It ends well. 

A/n: Thanks to @littleredwing89​ and @multifandomgirl-us​ for proof reading. I was watching Kitchen Nightmares while writing this. I am surprised how fluffy this came out. You can blame my need for more poly and this piece by @symeona​. I have not shut up about this piece 50 years later (Hi Sym *waves*-Fish). I forgot to mention that reader is more or less gender neutral or I attempted.

warnings: Terrible cooking

masterlist

Kon yawns, scratching at his broad chest and running his hand through his tangle of curly black hair. He blinks one eye open successfully to the dim light flooding into the end of the hall likely coming in from the living room. The lights dance, glowing softly with faded color against the dark glossy wood of the floor. 

 Kon’s first sleep-addled thought is, Oh, Aliens. Ok, cool.

 It takes his brain a full minute to realize how much that doesn’t make sense. The apartment is dead silent, lacking the telltale whirring most spaceships give off when they’re hovering, the sounds of nervous fingers tapping against a stack of papers echoing in the mostly empty space. Kon strained his ears trying to focus on the other sounds flitting in the room. He can hear the steady calming beat of your heart come off rhythm, jumping a fraction of a beat faster. It wasn’t fast enough to say you were in danger. It was just fast enough to tell that you were extremely engaged in whatever was occupying your attention. Kon thinks it over. The last time he checked looking over papers- lab reports, especially- was the bane of your existence. He listens again. This time making out the voices coming from the TV. Kon wasn’t awake enough to understand what they were saying. 

 5:47 AM

 Kon groans trying his hardest not to laugh while he stares at his phone. You are an actual psychopath. Who wakes up at 5 AM? Villains that’s who. Did you even sleep? Why do you and Tim hate sleep so much? 

 Stepping into the living room as quietly as he can, he finds you huddled against the right side of the couch far away from the TV, your thick wool comforter draped over your head and shoulders making a fluffy tent. Strands of your messy bed head sticking out and swaying as you rock on your heels. Your stack of papers long since abandoned on the arm rest beside you. Kon can’t help but smile at how adorable you looked, still sleep rumpled and red-nosed from the cold. 

 Eyes glued to the TV, you pull up your knees to your chest revealing your fuzzy Red Robin socks. Kon frowns then makes a mental note to get you some Superboy socks later. You curl deeper into your comforter, easing and pressing into the armrest. All of your apprehension fading and relaxing as the rest of the world melted away. Kon smiles devilishly at your inattention. He tiptoes towards you which was entirely unnecessary because it didn’t matter that Kon was about as stealthy as a disco ball not when all of your attention was directed at the TV. 

 Kon launches himself at you too quickly for you to even react or comment or throw a pillow at him. You shriek as he lands on you, his muscular body squishing you into the couch. You wince hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. You’re not too worried about Tim waking up considering how tired he was. 

 “Morning, gorgeous.” Kon greets, winking and wrapping his arms around your waist. The audacity. You groan attempting to glare at him. He simply gives you a dopey smile. You have to blow out a raspberry to keep yourself from smiling back. You strain your lips into a flatline. The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes betray you though. The corner of Kon’s mouth twitches, those big baby blues shining even in the dim light. He knows he’s won you over. 

 You’re too petty and sleep-deprived to give in. You roll your eyes at him, lips still wobbling and tingling from the effort of maintaining your unimpressed frown. Still, without resistance,  you shift the comforter and refold yourself to accommodate his intrusive form. Large arms wrap around your waist tighter as he lays his head in your stomach. How he finds this position comfortable for his neck is beyond you but you do appreciate the warmth. Kon’s smile widens as he looks up at you. It looks positively smug. Your nose scrunches up bracing for whatever Kon is about to say. 

 “Aw, baaabe, it looks good on you~” You look down at the oversized Superboy hoodie you’re wearing which was two times bigger than it needed to be as was standard of your hoodies.  You mutter a curse. Kon had been pestering you to wear it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you had a soft spot for the Impulse hoodie Bart got you a few years ago which meant it was your got-to-hoodie despite the fact that it was fraying.  It was in the wash so you decided to give this one a try and honestly, it is really fucking comfy and more importantly warm.  You huff at him, feeling your cheeks color. You glare at him, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. You make the executive decision to ignore him. 

 This decision does not last long. 

 About two minutes into your silent treatment, Kon whines and pouts weaponizing those baby blues. “Aw come on, gorgeous, you can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nuzzles into your stomach tickling your drawing a smile out of you. He grins at you and finally, you let yourself smile back fully. “Asshole.” You grumble.  He knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute and calling you ‘gorgeous’. That is just plain cheating. Still, you relent. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, running your hand gently through his dark hair allowing your fingers to tangle in his curls. The arms around you tighten a little pulling you closer to him. 

 Kon doesn’t need a reminder of how absolutely adorable you are but it is very much appreciated. Kon loves looking at you as the soft glowing colors flash across your face highlighting your features and softening them. In the dim light of the room and under the blankets, you press closer to him all the sharp edges of Gotham's alleys stripped away leaving you sleepy-eyed and very huggable. Between you and Tim, you were the one people pointed to when they thought Gothamite but that was the fun of it. He and Tim, they were the only ones who got to see this softer you. The you that you let get enraptured by hobbies and dumb little things. Kon held you close, relishing your presence. This was the version of you they got to keep for themselves and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 -------

 Tim shifts feeling either side of him vacant.  Tim rolls over, arms searching for either you or Kon as his mind catches up. The warm sunlight brushes over his skin as he rolls over once again, stirring him from his sleep. Tim blinks, eyes adjusting to the morning light. 

 9: 10 AM

 He groans, shifting up and burying his head under the pillows hoping to once again fall asleep. 

 “Oh no no no no!”

 “Shush! Don’t jinx it!”

 Tim’s eye cracks open.  He lifts his head a bit tilting it to find the bedroom door open, your voices filtering in like dust in a sunbeam, pleasant but ultimately not helpful. 

 “I can’t jinx a pre-recorded show, genius!” 

 Tim sighs. Sleep was, inevitably, lost at this point. Tim debates on whether to keep himself under the covers and finally be able to hog the thick blankets. Or he could, possibly, investigate the commotion happening in your shared living room and risk freezing. Sadly, he chose the latter. 

 Blearily, Tim searches the room for a shirt only to find one of Kon’s discarded on the floor. Well, it’s not the first time he’s borrowed one of Kon’s shirts. 

 Tim wasn’t surprised to find you out of bed. After all, the idea of sitting still ate you alive. You were always, always the happiest when you were in motion when your hands were working to make something like some part of you was constantly vying for the chance to be something instead of just being. Tim completely understood the feeling. 

 Kon had once accused you of being a workaholic when in truth at the moment you had been avoiding work by doing one of your side projects. He had also accused both of you of being sleep allergic which is probably true but at least, Tim’s drink (read: poison) of choice was tea and not a cocktail of monster energy drinks and misery. 

 It was odd to find Kon out of bed though.  Kon could laze around in bed for days if you let him, so his being up was worth investigating if only to make sure the apartment didn’t burn down.  

 “Look what you did!”

 “It’s prerecorded, jackass!”

 “You cursed him and gave him a soggy bottom”

 Tim can tell just how long you’ve been glued to the T.V. based on the way your vowels slant to mimic that of the hosts. Tim’s slightly chapped lips curl as he shakes his head at the way you and Kon cock your heads towards the T.V., attention completely captured by what seems to be a cooking show. You held your breaths, waiting for the judge to say something. Kon shifts up, leaning his head against your shoulder.  Your limbs were tangled loosely against each other. It was a rare, lazy sort of affection that never failed to make Tim smile. 

 “Ok, no. That’s just mean.” You huff into Kon’s hair, looking absolutely petulant and cute. Tim works to stop an ‘aaaaawww’ rising from the back of his throat lest you throw a pillow at his head. 

 “Babe, it’s Paul Hollywood. What were you expecting?”

 “Human decency. She worked hard on that.” You whine, genuinely looking upset. 

 Seeing, your reaction Kon relents burrowing himself closer to you for comfort. “True.”

 Tim turned his attention to the T.V.. What he found made his brow shoot up. 

 “Great British Bake Off?” Tim asks, sliding into your left side and placing his head on your shoulder. There is a reason you guys bought an L-shaped couch. Said reason was named Conner Kent who liked laying on top of people. Those people being either of you. Tim snuggles into your side, earning him a kiss on his nose.   His nose scrunches feeling itchy. He lets out a small sneeze into the back of his hand. You blanch at him while Kon snorts, throwing him a box of tissues from the coffee table. 

 “Mornin’, Space Case.” You mumble giving him another kiss, this time on the corner of his lip. Tim blushes,  his face brighter than the sunlight outside your window. Tim is, sadly, incurably adorable.  

 Kon smiles at both of you smugly for what neither of you has any clue. Not until you see what Tim is wearing and not until Tim sees what you’re wearing. You groan and Tim blows out a  breath through his nose while Kon presses his positively glowing smile into your hoodie. He’s not going to shut up about this anytime soon or ever. 

 “Do you two even know anything about baking?” Tim asks, crossing his arms over his chest and smoothly changing the subject. 

��You and Kon share a look. 

 “Nope”

 “Yes”

 “Microwaves and watching this show doesn’t count.”

 “Ooook, fine. I don’t. Buuuuuut considering none of us can-”

 “I can cook.” Tim defends, clipped. You roll your eyes dramatically. Kon smirks, also doubtful. You flicker your eyes to Kon to meet his and with the brief contact, you know you’re on the same page. 

 “Microwaves don’t count, Tim.” Kon shoots back, pulling himself off you so he can show Tim the full extent of his Cheshire smile. You can see Tim drawing his hackles up, so both of you, being the little shits you are, continue to goad him. 

 “You can cook in theory,” You drawl, letting the challenge embed itself into the syllables. Tim cuts you a look. You simply look at him innocently. Tim  knows  that you’re baiting him. He definitely knows this and yet…

 “Fine!”

 “Fine?” 

 “Fine. We’ll even make something from the show!”

 “Even chocolate eclairs?” Kon says a little too eagerly. You were just gonna say meringues but chocolate eclairs sound fantastic.

 Tim throws up his arms and exasperates. “Sure! Why not?”

 You and Kon share a dopey smile, smug and preening as you look at him. Tim groans, placing his head in his hands. He knew this would happen. He knew. You and Kon high five and make a little “yeah!” noise in celebration.

 This will not end well.   

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

 You twitch your lips staring down at Tim’s phone, deleting and retyping the message for the third time. You weren’t  sure  how to explain this without having Jason falling to the floor laughing. Your eyes stung from the smoke so you decided to just send him your third try. 

 Tim: Hey Jason, theoretically, say your oven caught on fire like via laser beam or something, do you just pour water on it?

 You wait a few minutes, watching the three dots indicating he was typing only for him to stop typing without replying. You make a small noise, which was thankfully lost to the bickering behind you when Jason’s phone number flashed on the screen. You’re always nervous about talking to Tim’s family. Tim had once assured you that you were overthinking it but still. To be fair, it was easier than dealing with Kon’s. Actually, no. No, it wasn’t. Both were intimidating but in very different ways. You do have to say that Jason, scary as he was, was easier to approach than say Bruce. 

 “Baby bird,” Jason says, the edge of a wheeze gripping his throat. Clearly, having just recovered from laughing his guts out. He breathes, hand slamming against what you suspect was either a kitchen countertop or a workbench or both knowing Jason. “Ok, ok, I’m good-” He clears his throat. “Kay, tell me what happened.”

 You flick your eyes toward the fire and your boys who were more or less still bickering, their voices tangling with the crackling of the flames. You’re mildly surprised that neither of them is on fire but you’re not holding your breath. They’ll probably be somehow combust in the next five minutes. You love them but they’re disasters.

 “We were trying to bake- shut up-” Jason does not snort any quieter. “And well, Tim thought-”

 “It was Kon’s idea!”

 “You let me!” Kon defends sounding utterly betrayed. 

 You groan and Jason snickers.  “What do we do?”

 “Have you tried apologizing to it?”

 “Jason, I’m being serious.”

 “So am I. Now, apologize.” You sigh exasperatedly. Waynes are assholes. 

 Tim raises a brow at you and you give him a shrug not really knowing what to tell him. “Apparently, we need to apologize to the oven.” You deadpan, immediately regretting even relaying it. How have you never decked Jason? It wasn’t fear. After all, you’ve decked Batman. Ok, in your defense lack thereof, that one was by accident or moreover reflexive. 

 “Hey Kon”

 “Both of you have to apologize too!”

 “First of all, I was in the bathroom getting towels when you two chucklefucks decided to use laser vision to preheat the oven.”

 You hear Jason fall out of his chair. Distantly, you hear someone calling Jason an idiot but you weren’t too familiar with the voice. You instantly thank yourself for not turning on the camera considering what state you three were in. Kon was covered in chocolate, your hair-as well as your poor phone- was caked in batter, and Tim? Tim was covered in everything but mostly flour which keeps making his nose twitch like a rabbit. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kon’s already taken a few pictures. You yourself have taken a few.  

 “Ok but seriously what do we do?”

 You hear some rustling and a chair squeaking back into place. 

 “No…”

 “First off, did you close the oven?” Your eyes flicker to them. Placing Tim’s phone between your shoulder and ear, you mime the advice. Tim frowns skeptical but Kon kicks the oven closed anyway. 

“Ok, it’s closed now. Should we put water in it?”

 “NO. Have you never put out a kitchen fire before? How do you three eat?”

 “We live in the middle of downtown, what do you think?”

 Jason sighs disbelieving and finally sounding appropriately exasperated. You could see him running his hand over his face.  “Who let you three live together?” This made your lips twitch up. “I dunno. Kon and I just started mooching on Tim and then suddenly we each got a key to the apartment.” It was an oversimplification of events but there was a fire and you had to get at least one joke in. 

 “Do your neighbors have- Wait, don’t you have a Kryptonian clone with freeze breath?”

 You blink and slap your palm against your forehead. The other two seemed to get what you had just remembered and act appropriately with Tim looking defeated and Kon finding the situation hilarious. 

 “Thanks, Jay.” You mutter wanting the Earth to swallow you whole. Esme, your chubby rat, squeaked nuzzling against you as she wormed her way out of your hoodie. She may or may not have been the primary reason for the size of your hoodies. She smiles at the phone, wide-eyed and happy as if she could see Jason. You hear a soft laugh coming from Jason’s end. 

 “Is that Esme?” Your brow ticks up not quite sure how to answer. “Uh yeah.” You answer dumbly, giving Esme little scritches that she leaned into happily making all her little happy noises.     

 “Give her a cuddle for me.” You give Esme a kiss on her nose and she snuggles in reciprocation. Kon pouts face still full of chocolate, “Where’s mine?”

 “You’ll get one once our apartment isn’t about to burn down.”   

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

 Fresh out of the shower, you plop down next to Tim letting your wet hair flop onto his face and his fuzzy Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Tim huffs at you taking another bite out of the hot fresh-ly ordered stuffed crust pizza. The cheese was still gooey and molten. It made your stomach rumble like nobody’s business. You whine childishly trying to get Tim to hand you one. He looks at you, mouthful of pizza, and grabs one only to hand it to Kon. You gasp at him. You stretch your legs over their laps in protest only to retract them immediately after Kon pokes at your feet a couple of times tickling you. 

 You hide behind Tim, glaring at Kon and sticking your tongue out. Tim, the traitor, moves out of the way letting Kon’s long arms capture you. You shriek almost sounding like Esme as he pulls you in sitting you in his lap. You sigh in defeat as Kon places his chin on your head. You don’t even want to see the triumphant smirks on both their faces. 

 You grab a slice and through the mouthful of cheese and grease, you murmur “We really need to learn how to cook.” Tim hums in agreement, leaning against Kon, aka the cuddliest heater in the world. You lean back into Kon as another signature bake is brought up to the judges. You all watch with bated breaths as you wait for the results. 

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

 You marvel at the fresh ingredients laid before you and the posh man standing in your kitchen rolling up his sleeves. 

 “Hey, Duckie, are we in trouble?” Kon whispers from behind you. He’s got your back, he said. 

 “Kind of?” Tim bleats, his voice a little high. 

 You snort raising an eyebrow at him hiding your smile behind your hand. “Timmy, what does kind of mean?” 

 “I can hear you.” Alfred deadpans. You and Kon stiffen.  You’re pretty sure even Tim straightens up, probably out of habit. 

 “Do any of you know how to cook?” Alfred asks in the primmest sounding accent you’ve ever heard. 

 “Nope, we live downtown for a reason.” You snark reflexively. Tim glares at you and hisses silently.  You shrink and mutter an apology which Alfred takes graciously.

 “I am assuming you don’t then. Well, it’s lucky that I have a free afternoon.”

 Tim eyes him suspiciously. “What happened to B?”

 “Your father can take care of himself.”

 “You sure?”

You think you see Alfred smile at that. 

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

Thanks for reading!

tag list:  @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes ,  @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression, radio version - Ep 47, August 2016 - Hierarchy in groups/bands, the language barrier overseas.

Kaoru starts by commenting on how the Summer is getting towards the end, and Joe asks him what type of things he considers typical Summer stuff, for example swimming in the sea etc. Kaoru says he did actually go to Okinawa recently, and went to take a look at the beach, but thats it, he didn't go in the sea. When he got there, he could smell the stench of tanning oil coming from the other beach goers, so he left pretty soon. He says he didn't go in the sea because he always thinks, 'If I go in, what am i gonna do about my wet feet after I come out?'.

Tasai joins them for the Tokyo Sports corner next, with some news from the comedy world for his first story. This relates to the comedy duo Nippon Elekitel Rengo (Joe has no idea who they are, not owning a tv, but Kaoru knows of them). The duo originally lived together in the city of Higashiyamurayama before getting their big break, due to not having a lot of money. But they have now moved into separate places after making it big, due to the danger of disbanding if the continued living together. The duo, Nakano and Hashimoto, had followed a specific lifestyle at home. Nakano, being the one who wrote all the comedy skits, imposed the rule that because she did all the writing, Hashimoto had to do all the house work. Not just cooking and cleaning etc, but even as far as laying out Nakano's futon each night, and passing her the tv remote. It was as if there was a hierarchy in their relationship. Tasai asks what Kaoru thinks of the arrangement. Does he see any similarities when writing music? Kaoru says it depends on the amount of people involved. With just 2 people its too easy for one of them to end up feeling like they are the brains. He doesn't really feel this in music, because the people who play the song also put their feelings into it/leave their mark on it. Tasai says that this should apply to Hashimoto too, because she was playing the parts that Nakano wrote. Kaoru repeats that for a group with only two members living together, its too easy to fall into this cycle. If two more members entered the group, it might throw this pattern off course a bit.

Joe says he once interviewed a particular band which had one member who wrote the songs (whereas the other members did no writing). The song writer said that although he may sometimes feel like he leads the band, he also sometimes gets into song-writing slumps. It is at these 'slump' times that he realises that although he writes the songs, it is the other members who complete them. Its easy to feel like you are the brains behind the whole thing when you are having a good day, but its those slump days that remind you how much you depend on the other members. Kaoru responds to this by saying 'I'm forever in slump mode'. The others laugh, Tasai exclaiming, 'What are you talking about?!'. Returning to serious mode, they agree that this is what being in a band is all about. Joe says a comedy duo should have more of a left/right relationship as opposed to a hierarchical one. Tasai says he wants to ask Nippon Elekitel Rengo about this directly, and hopes they make up.

Tasai's next news story is that the anime school, Yoyogi Animation Academy has recruited as its producers: Akimoto Yasushi (hugely influened record producer for AKB48 etc,), Komuro Tetsuya (also hugely influencial producer for many artists, including TRF etc), Tsunku (producer of Morning Musume), and Sashihara Rino (of the AKB and HKT groups). Each producer explained in an interview that they each have different methods of sensing a spark in someone, or finding a diamond in the rough etc. Tasai asks Kaoru if he has any experience with this from a producer's standpoint. Kaoru says he hasn't, but upon hearing that these 4 producers had been hired by Yoyogi Animation Academy, he felt no spark at all (the others laugh at this). He doesn't quite understand the point of hiring these 4 people.

Tasai explains that Tsunku in particular had expressed his envy that anime was able to  transcend the language barrier and make it big overseas so easily, whereas a lot of his hit songs in Japan could not. Tasai mentions that Dir en grey are very active overseas, and asks Kaoru how he copes with the language barrier. Kaoru says he doesn't think about it. Although communication is important, the purity of what the band wants to express gets a bit lost if they deliberately make songs in a different language. They can express themselves best in Japanese. He says using English is best if you want to make it big overseas, but he didn't start a band with the sole intention of 'making it big'.

Joe brings up the Tokyo based band 'Roth Bart Baron', who do a lot of shows around Europe and Asia, but sing entirely in Japanese. The vocalist/writer for the group speaks fluent English, but uses Japanese to sing because he can most easily express his true emotions in Japanese. In this day and age, people can easily translate lyrics on their computers anyway. Kaoru thinks that if you can easily express your emotions in English, its best to do that overseas, but Japanese has a lot of small nuances, which may be quite difficult to express clearly in English. On the other hand, says Joe, a lot of people who sing in English will tell you that English fits better with the tempo and sound of rock music than Japanese does.

Kaoru brings up his memories of singing along to English songs when he was a school kid, despite not knowing what it meant, so he doesn't really think its such a barrier these days.

They realise this conversation has taken a sharp turn away from the story about the anime school hiring music producers, but then they remember that anime has been massively successful at breaking international barriers, and could hold some lessons for the producers.

Kaoru finishes by reading out a few tour dates from the next two tours. Both tours will end with shows at Namba Hatch. This is because someone who helped Dir en grey out a lot in the early days works there, so they liked to finish in Osaka for that reason.

Songs - Dir en grey/Revelation of Mankind, The Crown/Face of Destruction, Dir en grey/Kyuukoku no kyouon ft. Sugizo.

Back to radio top page

[ectonurites]

do u have any thoughts on the whole “tim is zapped to time prison” storyline? bc i feel like it could have been pretty interesting and a good way to bring back young justice/tim’s memories more immediately if it hadn’t been such a blatant attempt to just get tim out of storylines bc they had no ideas for his character

sorry lol u don’t have to respond i just kind of wish people talked about this storyline more? and the fact that tim lowkey became one of the only people in dc with knowledge of the other timelines (i think so at least) and nobody really addressed it?? like going into the next phase where people learn about other timelines after death metal.... tim should already know some of this stuff right?

YES YES YES OKAY LETS TALK ABOUT THIS this got incredibly long because I just have a lot to say (and i included screenshots) and i prob got a little off topic but. but lets get started anyways:

i haven’t read that particular storyline in a few months so i might be missing/misremembering some details here, but that whole ‘time prison + future tim’ thing was like. a really really interesting concept and the implications/impacts it has are a big part of why i liked tynion’s detective comics run as much as i did even with it’s flaws in characterization (such as treating tim like he was jimmy neutron boy genius and making steph..... be all ready to quit/breakaway from the team like that. the steph quitting characterization really started i think in batgirl convergence and unfortunately has haunted her since, even though pre reboot never giving up was like...... one of her defining traits. dc i hate you sometimes) 

i think that one of the biggest things that bothers me about the situation is how little we saw most of the other characters in the batfamily grieve (aside from steph and some with bruce, but again the way steph was portrayed just... hhhhhh. it very much reduced her to ‘tims girlfriend’ more than i’d have preferred) but otherwise like...as far as I can remember there was maybe one line in that monsters crossover thing where dick mentioned tim was gone, jason had a single line about avoiding the funeral in rhato, i dont think they showed any reaction from babs at all until after he was back, and the most for damian I recall is at the end of the 2014 teen titans run (#24) where he looks at... a case with the old red robin uniform Tim wasn’t even wearing anymore when he died? and that just bugs me. Instead of getting to see the actual funeral we get one flashback to it way after the fact once Bruce already knows Tim’s not actually dead

But at the time when they all DID think he was dead? the closest thing we see was in that same teen titans issue (#24) there’s a memorial-type ‘sharing stories’ thing after the funeral with tim’s titans friends but.... we don’t see something like that with his family. tim is a major presence in these peoples’ lives, they are his family, when he gets sent into time prison its even SAID how loved he apparently is

its just... idk. they all thought he was dead, and if they had put more emphasis on showing not just telling how that effected EVERYONE (not just steph) in the batfam, it might have felt a lot less like they were just putting tim away until there was a story idea for him. (like obviously I know they can’t make everyone’s stories revolve around Tim, but I’d have way preferred a detective comics issue of the funeral/memorial with the family than having there only be a teen titans one, I think it would have... held more relevance & meaning... but instead they just went right into that monster crossover story instead of lingering on this)

but then the Tim story itself once it does pick up way later, with titans tomorrow/future tim coming along having that whole “tell conner you’re sorry” “who’s conner?” exchange with current tim... that opens up A LOT of things to think about, and I think was pretty interestingly done if i’m remembering correctly. future tim recognizes the timelines are different, and ya know goes off to try to change things further ("whaddaya got there?” “a gun to kill batwoman” “NO!!!!”), theres lots of fighting etc etc the good guys win as we expect, but once that’s all settled tim’s left there with this whole. thought process

which ya know is the big indicator there’s weird timeline/reality fuckery going on (or also the read here can be that tim and kon are so connected across all space and time that their bond can transcend anything even timelines and realities and reboots... “and they were soulmates” “oh my god they were soulmates”) 

ANYWAYS lets not forget that tim isnt the only one who learns about this other timeline stuff during this whole situation!

Brother Eye has records of future tim’s timeline, and cass & steph see who they used to be! and as soon as steph finds out ‘holy shit i was ROBIN and BATGIRL?’ she also desperately wants to know more! which then a bit later leads into young justice 2019 where instead of going off to college like they told Bruce they were gonna, Steph and Tim go get the help of Zatanna to see what might be going on in their brains with these timelines and weird feelings (as we see in flashback form in yj 2019 #5)

and HOO BOY DOES SHE FIND THINGS! she gets in there and finds out that oh yeah, their brains had very much so been tampered with, and with her magic she undoes some of it, by unlocking memories, and Tim finally remembers Conner! (also in case u were wondering, that panel is specifically a callback to this one from yj 1998 #17 when Cissie quit the team)

one thing that I think is weird/interesting/idk if it gets... properly addressed even, was that Zatanna also poked around Steph’s brain too and she didn’t remember everything? Might have something to do even with how Tim had been in time prison, might have taken less work from Z to open things up because of that? Who knows

additionally i wanna call attention to how he said “That entire chapter of my life” which... leading into my next point a bit... strongly leads me to believe even though he’s remembering some things he definitely does not have ALL of his memories back (because theres a lot more than just the young justice ‘chapter’ of tim’s life that was drastically changed by the new 52 & rebirth) 

BUT moving on, i wanna bring up this part from later on (after they figured out that there was a crisis that caused things in the world to change, which is why their memories/brains were messed with) in issue #16

so yeah, I think it’s indicated even though Zatanna brought back some memories and opened up his brain a bit, there’s still many holes, and some things seem more like dreams rather than memories and he’s probably unable to tell which are which on his own to some extent. (also for reference the real thing that Tim thought was just a dream is... likely yj 1998 issue #1)

So based on the things i’ve brought up here (which are the things I remember off the top of my head, I could easily be accidentally leaving shit out LMAO i haven’t fully read through any of these books in at least 3 or more months now) I think it’s safe to assume that Tim definitely has a head start on getting back his memories before Death Metal happens, but that it was by no means a complete thing. So the after effects of Death Metal are probably just gonna... be a little less drastic for him vs most other people because it was already happening, but it’ll be kinda filling in the remaining gaps? 

And like you said he is absolutely one of the few people that already knew about about the timelines/the fact that these crises have happened and changed things, but pretty much all the other young justice characters are also aware that there was meddling in the timeline/that multiple timelines and alternate universes like this exist since they were all together as a group when it got explained (in like. yj 2019 #15 i believe is where most of the explaining happens) (and cass as well is aware of things to some extent because of her and steph’s interaction with Brother Eye) but the difference is that Zatanna didn’t go into everyone’s brains, so they aren’t dealing with the same memory things as Tim (and possibly Steph? because again Z DID go in her brain, she just wasn’t able to unlock all the same things as she did with Tim) 

but yeah in general i SO wish this was explored more, both in canon and in fanworks (fanworks tho... that can still happen >:3c). Memories hazily coming in for Tim while Kon and Bart are able to confirm or deny things, him dealing with conflicting memories and feelings about his past as they trickle in... like I think we’ll start to see these types of things moving forward across a lot of titles with Infinite Frontier (i BELIEVE dont quote me on this but I BELIEVE the person writing Damian’s upcoming solo had mentioned in an interview that the memories coming back of the other timeline aren’t going to be an all at once thing but will be more gradual for most characters) but the fact that it theoretically had already been happening for Tim for MONTHS and we only got that one crumb indicating it in #16 of it instead of any actual exploration makes me SAAAAAAD 

[otnesse]

Mulling over the episode Krusty is Busted, I can't help but think that Sideshow Bob may not have actually intended for Krusty to go to jail. He certainly intended to frame him for armed robbery, don't get me wrong, but I'm doubtful he intended for Krusty to go to jail, and if anything THAT was more of an accident, a classic Fraiser-style gone horribly right (not that he particularly cared by that point).

If anything, I suspected he framed Krusty so he'd be humiliated in court while still being acquitted ultimately. The reason I suspect that was his actual intention behind framing him was largely because, quite frankly, it wouldn't have made sense for him to do stuff like read a literature magazine and stand dangerously close to a fully operational microwave when he's posing as Krusty if he intended for him to go to jail. Especially considering he of all people would know more than anyone about Krusty's illiteracy, and his heart attack pacemaker is practically public knowledge. It would make more sense, especially given his criminal mastermind stuff in later episodes, that he deliberately made sure to give evidence pointing to Krusty being framed specifically to engineer a court toss-out of the case, but not before thoroughly humiliating Krusty by revealing that he was in fact illiterate and thus the WORST one to promote literacy. Probably the only part of his plan that actually WAS unplanned was Homer stepping on his shoe. My guess is that he thoroughly underestimated just how stupid Springfield's population, in particular the DA, was to actually find Krusty guilty of robbery, despite Krusty's illiteracy alone being grounds to have the case be tossed out (and for the record, I suspect the illiteracy thing was what Sideshow Bob was aiming for, since while it WOULD have acquitted Krusty, it nevertheless would have been a huge blow to his reputation and fame by revealing he basically was a fraud regarding his literacy campaign, and thus would have MORE than satisfied Sideshow Bob.). I'm pretty sure if Sideshow Bob wanted to frame Krusty, he'd make sure to avoid doing stuff that would be easily deemed out of character for what the real Krusty would do. I know if I wanted to actually have Krusty go to jail as revenge, under the framing plan, I'd deliberately make sure to not be anywhere near a microwave, nor would I even pick up a magazine at all, much less a literature-based magazine, just to make sure it's as foolproof as possible. Note that I'm not counting the foot incident, since Sideshow Bob clearly did not plan for Homer stepping on the tip of his shoes. Heck, forget framing him from Armed Robbery, knowing Bart the Fink, all he needed to do was anonymously rat Krusty out to the IRS for his Cayman Islands account if he wanted him in jail.

[scaredandbored]

idk anything about Sherlock but u said you have a Sapphic Victorian Sherlock Holmes concept and I would like to hear about it, please! it sounds very interesting + fun even with no knowledge of Sherlock

(well. I can't say none, I was on this site for superwholock, but none that's like. actual actual knowledge of anything canon lol)

hi i dont remember reading this but its quite possible i opened it with the intention of just vomiting lore all over your innocent ask and simply Forgot buT HERE YOU GO (im deliberately keeping it short to avoid being a pain in the ass and also i have sm stuff to do i cannot spend long on this post but maybe ill write the fic someday). it's also very watson-centric as i adore waston in all shapes and forms and have finally come to terms with myself as watson kin over holmes kin (i.e i lost the pretentious "gifted child" arrogance) and am fully projecting onto them instead of holmes :)

1- joan watson was a nurse with the northumberland fusiliers (or whichever division john watson was in in the originals i cannot fully recall) but they got in such deep Shit that the highest ranking officer remaining after a particular raid gave her and some of the other nurses weapons and brief training for self-protection purposes (joan also knew she was attacted to men and women before entering the army but was in love with another nurse while in afghanistan but when she died her the same officer who equipped them with guns (mark morstan) was a real support to her and she did develop feelings but it never went anywhere). joan still gets shot in the shoulder + leg, gets the infection and fever, and is sent home to london, where her mother is disgusted by her leaving home and owning a firearm and refuses to let her back home

2-joan's father feels bad for his daughter, and helps her with fees for london school of medicine for women, but his wife keeps him from seeing much of joan. they write to each other regularly, and joan eventually pays him back in full for college fees with money she makes from her own private practice while living in 221B but we'll get there we'll get there

3-joan must make her own money to pay for her accommodation, but her only source of income while studying is writing short stories under a the name 'j.watson' for the strand- so she must find a flatmate, and fast

4-joan manages to pay rent for a tiny pokehole of a place for a few months, but knows if she can find a roommate, she would be able to afford a flat in town. she arranges to meet mark morstan, whom she knows she cant live with, but who knows more people in london than she does and might know another single woman in search of accommodation who might be willing to split the rent. mark does, but the woman he's thinking of is quite eccentric, and he doesn't want joan associating herself with this woman, for fear her reputation will be tarnished

5-this woman is one sherlock holmes. mark knew her from college in cambridge, where she'd pretended to be a man for the duration of her chemistry degree, and only revealed who she was to him when mark had suggested they try and find a flat together after they had graduated. the revelation of her identity made her behaviours at the college all the more shocking- she'd been the heaviest smoker of the lot of them, had the foulest mouth, and had the best records in the mixed martial arts club. she was the furthest thing from a lady mark had ever met, and he hadn't spoken to her in years, except he'd met her, in the same garb she'd worn in college, posing as a man in a bar for reasons unbeknownst to him. they'd had a friendly chat, and he'd discovered that holmes had recently moved out of the family home and was doing research in bart's hospital, but was seeking a roommate. mark reveals that he'd do anything to find watson a more suitable flatmate, but all the other people he knows searching for accommodation are men.

6-joan is intrigued by this person, having had a friend in her youth who had enjoyed being perceived as a man and a woman, even back before being a woman had much limitations on where they could go and what they could do, and agrees immediately, only a little bashful when mark remarks that this holmes person is incredibly erratic in their behavior and may not even find a well-respected woman like herself a suitable co-habitor.

7-they meet at 221B and the rest is h i s t o r y

8-basically we have a she/her leaning genderfluid, greysexual lesbian sherlock holmes, and we have a she/they gender apathetic, bisexual demiromantic dr watson and they fall in love very slowly and i love them very much they have a dog together too like in the rdj version but im thinking more a red setter like redbeard in bbc