#tim is socially awkward sometimes

[msfantasy-comics]

The Family Meet and Greet

Damian Wayne x Reader

Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?

A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.

He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.

Dick Grayson:

It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.

Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.

A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.

“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”

“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.

“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”

“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”

Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.

“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.

There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.

Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.

“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”

Tim Drake:

The little rat has been acting rather odd.

Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.

They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.

Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.

Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….

Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.

He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.

Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.

Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.

Barbara Gordon

No freaking way.

Barbara could not believe her very eyes.

When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.

An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.

When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.

This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.

Jason Todd

Disgusting. Absolutely foul.

It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.

Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.

The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.

This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.

Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.

“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.

Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.

“What?! I’m in the middle of-“

“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”

Duke

“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.

“Thomas-“

“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.

“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.

Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.

Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx

Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.

Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.

Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.

Bruce Wayne

God, why are his kids so weird?

Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…

Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.

“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.

“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.

“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.

“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.

“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.

Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.

“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.

The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.

“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”

“… I’m Batman.”

[heliosundercover]

Batboys and

how they talk about you

Bonus fic as a thank you for allowing my jason fic to do well 💋

Dick Grayson-

, who talks about you like a goddess walking the earth, loves you more than words. The type to talk about you so much that people doubt your real

 

“My girlfriend is so sweet, guys. Today we went to that one library I like. Guys, have I told you even her favorite book is adorable?”

It doesn’t help that he tends to get caught up in certain details, completely ignoring other ones. No one knew your name until a week into dating.

 

Jason: “If you asked me before, I would’ve never believed him; weve all gone a little insane, but now that Ive seen proof, I'm happy for him. He gets to be well-dick, and she gets to smile and nod, but I swear she enjoys it. They’re weird together.”

 

Tim: “We love Dick. A lot, but we were looking at a wonderful facility that has an in-patient gym in the beginning. But the way he looks at her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually did miracles.” 

 

Damian: “At least I believed him at the start. He was smitten and absolutely whipped. I thought it was just like Dick. I don’t know why I, of all people, was the only one that caught it.

 

Bruce: Yeah, I knew she was real. Why would I ruin everyone’s fun? I mean, Dick is a bit. Aloof sometimes… I'm not exactly surprised; he’s not exactly amazing socially sometimes, but with her, he’s extra awkward, and I watched him flirt with men and women. But look, as long as he’s happy, we’re happy for him.”

 

Dick is a completely drunken idiot, with so much training thrown out the window. 

(Can you tell I'm not a fan of a playboy dick😞 im sorry i love a good love stuck man)

 

Jason Todd-

, who is extremely protective of his peace, sometimes acts as if you’re fragile. He was the type to invite you to a family game night where he called a family meeting an hour beforehand, forcing everyone to be on their best behavior. Needless to say, it was awkward, but one uno round later, he realized you fit in just fine. 

 

“I knew my girl would win. She's a gangster.”

boast when you absolutely dominate everyone playing in the game. You never quite beat the cheating allegations.

 

Dick: "I don’t know how he did it, but he found someone who brings out a side of him I haven’t seen in years. No one is that good at uno; naturally, at least, I think she’s a meta. I'm not saying that non-metas aren’t good at uno.”

 

Tim: "You know how in movies the girl animals just have lashes, and how the boy is always darker and the girl will be like a lighter color? It's like she was made for him. I'm glad he found his anamorphic girl, Wolf. But, can I be honest? I think Alfred was telling her our cards.”

 

Damian: "I'm glad Jaybird is happy. He’s definitely earned it. Even if she cheats at UNO, they’re perfect for each other. Hell, the cheating is what makes them perfect for each other.”

 

Bruce: "I'm glad to see Jason happy. The sparkling in his eyes, the boyish smile, is the same joy I saw after he hit me with a car iron and ran off, giggling. I like her.”

 

 

Bruce Wayne-

is proud to show you off publicly. He’s not one to spoil someone, but sometimes he can’t help but pick up trinkets for you. Sometimes you’d wake up to keychains, jewelry, or even clothes somewhere in your shared room. 

 

He tried so hard to be there for you and protect you from his line of work. Some nights, he wouldn’t come to bed at all to avoid waking you. Some nights, if you worried too much, he would send Dick out in the Batman costume so he could be by your side. 

 

"Shh, baby, its ok... Tonight, I'm staying with you, okay? I love you; do you know that? And I know sometimes the risk scares you, but I’ll always be here for you.”

 

Dick: "It's nice knowing Bruce isn’t constantly brooding about it. Well, I knew that fact already, but this is different. I only see a light in his eyes when he’s doing stuff he absolutely loves. Like when he talks to his parents tombs and we pretend we don’t see him.”

 

Jason: "i think that man would come back from the dead more dramatically than I did for this woman. And I waged like 3 wars.”

 

Tim: “Sometimes I see them sitting in the library together in silence. All they do is enjoy each other’s presence. Its adorable”

 

Damian: “Dads earned it. And when I say he’s earned it, I mean he’s earned it!”

 

Bruce isn’t the easiest to be with, but he always makes up for it.

[too0bsessedformyowngood]

I know that we think the Wayne would be recognizable/well known by the general public because they’re rich and the work that they do (like Wayne Industries etc), but I think that the way most people would know them is by the shit post of a family they portray themselves to be.

Like growing up Dick 100% had a Vine that heavily included the Titans, sometimes Jason, and on rare occasions Bruce and Alfred. There is an infamous vine of Jason recording from the ground floor, camera pointed toward Dick before he yells “Do it for the Vine!!!” as Dick takes a running dive to the chandelier as you hear Bruce yell, “RICHARD NO” as he releases what is happening.

Tim has an instagram that is just photos he has taken of the family where they a) didn’t see him take the photo, or even know he was in the general vicinity and b) catching them in an embarrassing moment. There are photos like Bruce on a corner holding an umbrella and a wave of water crashing into him caused by a car that had just driven past, or another photo of Damian in the park feeding the birds and you can see that he has accumulated an army of pigeons around him.

Steph has a tiktok and will drag each member of the family to do dances with her. Duke, Dick, and Cass always look excited to join in, Tim looks awkward doing most of the dance but tries, Damian with just stand there glaring at the camera, and on occasion Steph is even able to drag Bruce in to join. Before Jason is revealed to be alive to the public there is just sometime glimpses of him in the back of the videos. There are often comments like “GIRL WHO IS THAT” or “am I going crazy or is there someone in the background”. There is a whole tiktok niche that is just people theorizing on what is happening in the background of the videos. There was also a trend of when the Nepo baby song came out of their friends making edits of them to it, the first one was done by Bernard and the comment was just “love you babe <3”.

I just think it is immensely funnier if people are able to recognize the Wayne because of the memes that come from their social media

[bambiimutt]

Hello, I loved your writing, and I wanted to request some relationship headcons with Masky

Relationship Head cannons

I wanted to do this for everyone I write for cuz I want them to get some attention too!! I hope that’s okay!

TW!! Mentions of stalking, talking of perverts but not super heavy, possessiveness, if I missed anyway let me know!!

Masky/Tim Wright

-Honestly at first he’s a bit awkward, i see him as socially awkward in general so him being in a relationship? Oh my fuck. And it’s not the Awh such a cutie patootie he’s so awkward. No like he’s so awkward he doesn’t know what to do with you. He’s so awkward he goes silent. Awkward babe.

-once the relationship grows into something deeper he’s better. He definitely still has his moments, but it’s now more how he landed you. How he was able to find someone that cares for him and puts up with him. He’s not much honestly just his random outbursts and waking up with no memory of his nights before.

-speaking of. A lot of trauma lays on his shoulders. After jays death who you don’t know much about and everything leading up to the events of marble hornets. All you knew was that he was supposed to be in this student film.. but shit happened. And he refuses to talk about it. You’ll ask him sometimes if you can watch the tapes but he tells you time and time again. No. More because he knows what he is and he doesn’t what you running from him. He’s with you yea but he doesn’t want to expose you to the operator.

-as mentioned in a few of my other posts. He’ll leave for weeks on end and if it’s not for weeks its almost every night. He’s leaving and coming back at ungodly hours. Most of the time you’re asleep and he waits till your asleep to do this. There’s been a few times his mask is left out because he comes home so drained that he kinda forgets to hide it.. and when you question it sometimes he does remember, and most times he doesn’t. But when you ask he’s stammering. He knows why he has it but doesn’t know how to tell you, doesn’t want to.

-he’s not the date night kind of guy but he doesn’t mind spending some time with you from time to time. He doesn’t want you to think he’s ignoring you or just not care for you because he leaves for weeks.. he wants you to know he loves having you around. It’s just. He can’t tell you about his life fully. When it comes to a date night it’s probably lots of time at home, watching a movie on his couch, cuddled up against him. If you fall asleep he’ll make sure you have all of the blanket. He can fully not be as tense, relaxing into you as you sleep against him.

-very very very sarcastic, it earns him smacks to the arm like 10 times a day.

-he’s alright with public affection but again he’s awkward.. sooo maybe don’t be so affectionate in public. But at home, he’s all over you, sleepy man, cuddled up to you, following you around the house. He seems so big and tough but he hates being away from you.

-Tim’s not crazily over protective. Maybe insecure at times but deep down he knows that you are with him because you truly love him. So if anyone ever approaches you he trusts that you can handle it yourself, if not he will 100% help you.. by torturing the guy the same night, and he’ll come back having that be his only memory.

Tobias Rogers

-ARF ARF ARF BITCH IS A FUCKING DOG. I’m telling you that mother fucker IS ALL OVER YOU. Now I’m not saying he isn’t one scary mother fucker. But he tries to keep his shitty ass fucking life out of his love life. Because really.. this isn’t what he wanted ever. He didn’t want to be part of this operator shit. So he tries to be normal? As normal as Toby can get.

-you actually help him a lot with his tics. If he can focus on something for long enough they don’t get as bad as they can get, they actually become more tame, so if he ever has a really bad tic attack, you’re always the one to talk him through it, to calm him down and to focus on your voice. And he’s better in no time.

-TALK ABOUT BEING A PRETTY MOTHER FUCKER.. YOU NEVER GET OVER HOW PRETTY THIS BITCH IS. messy brown hair, brown tired eyes, nicely shaped face, pretty fucking smile. He never used to have one but he ended up growing a semi beard. More of a patch on his chin. And what does he love the most? Hearing you tell him how pretty he is. Running your hands through his hair, kissing his face all over. God he could eat you right up.

-he’s a closeted pervert. But like not to the point where it’s unbearable but like he’s all over you. He’s grabbing your thighs.. he’s leaving hickeys all over. He’s a boob/chest guy. He just wants you close. So close you could fuse into one. He likes you in panties.. he also likes taking them whenever he has to be on a mission for weeks.. and we all know what he’s using them for.

-socially awkward mf. When you’re both out in public he’s so quiet. And he can’t do it alone anymore, not since he’s met you. If you’re ever on the bus, he’s as close as possible, hands fidgeting with your fingers, and staring down at them so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with others. Though there’s been a few times he’s had to interact with the people who complain about how much space he takes. He’s tall and lanky but the man manspreads like there’s no tomorrow. You have to grab his leg and pull it in because he’s just glaring.

-he kinda forgets that you can feel pain. Because he grew up not feeling pain he’s learned to be gentle with the things he cares about. But if you ever want to play fight he can sometimes forget, and get a little rough. So when you get hurt he’s pulling away instantly. “Fuck.. i.. I didn’t t-think that would h-hurt. Baby let me see it..” he’s babying you the rest of the night.

-now even though he’s a pretty good boyfriend he can be a bit much.. at times. He doesn’t mean to trust me. But he can get agitated quite easily. Certain tones can make him start to overthink, he can grow angered, upset. Just try to be reassuring and he should be okay.

-Toby is one of the overprotective ones. He will do anything and everything to go make sure whoever was all over you is not longer waking the fuck up. He might even steal you a little gift to make you feel better.

Ben Lawman/Drowned

-you might wanna buy some shit to keep the house from smelling like weed. And I mean it. He tries not to go crazy because he knows you don’t want the apartment smelling like it, but he can’t help himself sometimes.

-I’m not gonna lie to you, he most definitely watches you through cameras and your computer and shit. He’ll send pop up messages to you just to freak you out, etc. he thinks it’s so silly seeing you get so spooked out.

-he’s typically at home often. He doesn’t really go anywhere, aside from chilling in the fucking computer. So you get to have him around a lot.

-except it can get so fucking annoying. All in all he’s a really calm person, and keeps to himself but when you come along.. he’s all over you. Like suffocating. He wants you on his lap, he wants you sitting between his legs, cuddled up underneath his shirt, please just BE CLOSE. He’s much like Toby in that aspect. He just likes the physical love. Anything physical. I think it kinda brings him comfort too to be honest.. finally feeling the touch of someone. Something.

-like Toby he’s a fucking pervert. But like it’s hella known. He doesn’t keep that a secret. He’s a dirty motherfucker. Like I’m talking footjobs, cosplay.. but like that gamer girl, slutty look.. you name it he likes it.

-he likes to game so a lot of your time is probably spent watching him or playing with him. If you play with him though, be warned he’s a sore loser. He doesn’t rage but more or so finds excuses to show he should have won. But all in all, he’s just fooling around.. he enjoys that you can play with him, he likes that you like what he likes.

-immature. Not all the time but most definitely immature at times. To be fair when he died, he was still fairly young so sometimes his humour can be a bit.. questionable. Even if you aren’t laughing, he’s slapping his knee and pissing himself laughing, looking at you so that he can see your reaction. Just smile.

-he’s not overprotective. Like Tim he’s just really fucking insecure and I mean really. Really insecure. He sees other couples. How normal they are. How alive they are. And he can’t be that. He feels bad that he can never keep you warm because he’s an actual freezer. He feels like compared to others.. you could do so much better. So when someone hits on you.. he’s sulking. He’s walking further away from you. He’s just insecure. And scared to lose you. But these boys are also.. murderers. So knowing Ben.. well. That person shouldn’t have done that.

Jeffery Hodex/Jeff The Killer

-Asshole. Asshole. Asshole. Dickhead. Did I mention he’s a fucking asshole. He may seem like he doesn’t care about you. But I promise you he does. He just has weird ways of showing it..

-an actual fucking bully. I’m sure he’s made you cry time and time again, but you don’t do it in front of him, you don’t want him to think it hurts. Oh but if he knew.. if he knew how much it hurt you he’d beat himself up over it.

-he may seem like a fucking hard ass but he hates when you cry..he’s never one to show his emotions but it’s when those tears fall that he could break right there.

-hates public affection.. but at home? Different story. “Play with my hair.” “Jeff no, I’m busy.” “Please.. pretty please” there’s a moment of silence before you’re rolling your eyes and his head is on your lap.

-talk about sec when he’s angry. It’s a good way for him to get out his pent up anger, or if something happened he just needs you. So really what I’m trying to say is underneath all that hard exterior.. he does need you in many ways. Wether he likes to admit that or not.

-even though he’s an asshole.. he makes up for it with his rare sweet moments. To me. Jeff is.. not like others? I just mean, look wise he was always the odd one out not that he was ugly but like because he didn’t look like every other normal kid there. So having a metal head boyfriend..? With some kinda cool scaring by his lips in the form of a slight smile. Pale skin long black hair, tall and fit…. You know he’s playing the guitar to you. Yknow the room is gonna be filled with a bunch of black shit, band stuff, his weird collection of knives. On the note of he makes up for it with his sweet moments. Sometimes he’ll go through his collections with you. He will play the guitar for you, he’s also quite a good singer so expect some of that. (He most definitely sings you to sleep.. but he makes sure you’re half asleep first so you don’t remember it.)

-he’s not as horrible as he seems, he just.. doesn’t like showing his true emotions. He likes to look like the big bad tough guy. But really.. that scared little kid that hates the world is still in there. So what he needs is comfort. And you provide that. Just give him some time.

-overprotective. And if that was an understatement it would be far more then that. He is wayyyy too overprotective, possessive. You’re his. And his only. Nobody should speak to you in any form of flirting, nobody should look at you, touch you. You. Are. His. Now he keeps the killing out of your knowledge… as much as possible. Sometimes almost getting caught by you.. anyway. The person that looked at your ass and you didn’t even know? Yeah dead by 11 pm. You most definitely find out.

-type of motherfucker to have pictures of you on his phone with his hands around your throat, sitting on his lap, etc. post it. He wants you to. He’ll send them to you just to do it. He likes to show off what’s his.

-when I mentioned he was an asshole. I meant it. Because he doesn’t know how to handle his own emotions he can’t handle yours either. He internally freaks out. So what does he do? Does what he does best. Shuts you out and gets angry at you for showing your emotions

-please don’t be too upset.. he’ll be wandering in some point that night to hold you. He just doesn’t know how to tell what he’s going through.. so just hold him. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you.

Brian/Hoodie

-to be honest. He may be One of the more normal ones. Though when he leaves for weeks on end and comes back for a good while he’s just not himself. He’s quiet. He wants to be alone. He hates being touched, he snaps so much easier. But other then that. Brian tries to completely forget about everything he does and focuses on you.

-a lot of the time, he likes to spend quality time with you. Walking in the local park, doing art, helping him edit his “silly” little videos as you call them. Oh how oblivious you are. He’s a sweetheart, kind, caring. He’s gentle. He knows your likes and dislikes like the back of his hand. He knows what makes you tic, what makes you sulk, what makes you smile. You can thank him stalking you for that.

-yeah remember what I said about him being the most normal, he may have a few quirks. He stalks you from time to time. Not that he doesn’t trust you.. he just. Can’t take his eyes off of you. Ever. Because he doesn’t know what the operator could do.. and well. He just wants to see you, but more to keep you safe.

-he can’t sit still unless he knows where you are at, if you’re okay. And once he knows he can be at peace. So you can only imagine how fucking hard it is for him to be gone for weeks. He ignores all text messages he gets aside from yours. He’s constantly talking to you, making sure you’re okay. he just needs some reassurance and he’ll be okay.

-his camera is full of videos of you. He likes to take these home styles videos of you. Cooking in the kitchen in you’re underwear and his hoodie, you dancing in the living room, sleeping. He likes to look back at them from time to time.

-he makes sure to keep his pills and if you take any medication, organized and separated. He’d freak the fuck out if you accidentally took some of his. That and he needs a specific dosage.. one a doctor didn’t prescribe for him. Ahem. More his dosage of what he pleases. Don’t worry he claims he’s okay time and time again.

-he’s not like Tim with his memory loss, but he can forget things from Time to time. So if you can, if you were there just try and sit with him to help him remember. All he needs is to know that you’ll be patient.

-he likes kisses. Give them to him. Immediately. He wants them all over. His lips, cheeks, forehead. He’s such a sweet man.

[leth-writes]

Distance (Yandere tim drake x reader)

SUMMARY: Tim Drake is a fucking asshole, but at least you're moving.

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST 

Requests are open!

“Have you ever noticed anything… weird with Tim?”

Your voice breaks the cozy silence that had fallen in Stephanie’s room. The blond looked over, face the picture of confusion.

“What do you mean?” Your other friend, Conner, asked.

“I don’t know, I just… Sometimes he’s kinda creepy, ya know? Like he knows more than he lets on. Like he’s looking through you, into your soul.” You explain.

Stephanie cocks her head to the side, pretending to think.

“I mean, he can be a lil’ weird, but I think it’s just cuz he was socially stunted growing up…” She hums. What could that possibly mean? You thought, confused. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s cuz of his parents; they like, left him alone all the time when he was younger.” Stephanie continues, turning back to her homework. She seems satisfied with herself.

“I-”

“Hey, maybe you’ll just have to ask Tim, he won’t bite, ya know.” Conner says, not even bothering to face you.

The three of you fell back into silence.

You liked your friends. You didn’t have much experience with friendship, especially growing up moving around constantly because of your dad’s job. You’d met Conner completely by accident; you just so happened to be going to the same school, he just so happened to be walking down the hall, you tripped, he caught you. The two of you hit it off after that. That had introduced you to Steph, and later to Tim, and just like that, you were no longer alone.

Conner was kind, despite his outward appearance. He had dark, ruffled curly hair and a slight southern accent, and he always wore his stupid black leather jacket, the one with the spikes on the shoulders. Sometimes he even wore a dark pair of sunglasses, even inside, like an asshole. Despite his arrogance and his snarky attitude, he was a good friend, defending you from the schoolyard bullies that had plagued your life.

Steph was in some ways, his polar opposite. She had long, slightly wavy blond hair, down to the middle of her back, and the most bright blue eyes you think you’d ever seen, the color of a cloudless summer day’s sky. She was boisterous, constantly laughing and joking around, a sharp contrast to Conner’s cool, calm demeanor.

TIm was an entirely different story. He was… Quiet. Weirdly quiet. It was the first thing you’d noticed, the first time you met him, sitting down for lunch next to Steph and Kon. They’d happily introduced the two of you, and Tim. Shook your hand. You’d never met another person who shook hands, except for uppity businessmen who treated you like a baby.

His eyes were a cold, cruel blue, almost grey. They stared into you, never leaving your form, even as you turned to talk to Steph. You could feel him staring, like he was trying to cut your skull open for a peek inside. You felt like a bad lab experiment every time his attention fell on you.

His hair was always perfectly mussed, like he’d spent the entire morning debating about where to place each strand, and his clothes were impeccably prepped. All in all, he looked more like a doll than a person.

It was creepy, off-putting. Despite all of that, you were in desperate need for friends, especially friends your own age, not your annoying little cousins that you were forced to babysit when your Aunt was away on vacation, which she seemed to always be.

You were willing to put up with him, if it meant being Conner and Steph’s friend. You weren’t willing to give up that first taste of freedom from your overwhelming family.

Even if you hated him.

Tim was perfect, was the thing. Any time you had a problem, he had a condescendingly offered solution. Homework troubles transformed from a normal, if slightly irritating, part of your life into an embarrassing and awkward time for Tim to show off his expertise. Conner and Steph, both seemingly prodigies in their own rights, didn’t have nearly the same problem as you. Sometimes, in fact, you felt like they had some sort of telepathy, reading each other's minds and knowing the answers before you’d even begun.

Tim was also the perfect child, as your parents were constantly berating you. He helped his family, Tim cared for the company his adoptive father would one day be giving to him, Tim had perfect grades, Tim was perfectly behaved. Everywhere you turned it was Tim, Tim, Tim. You couldn’t even escape him on social media. If he wasn’t peering out at you with those icy eyes from Steph and Conner’s feeds, he was staring holes into your skull through pictures of him accepting awards and attending important events.

As you got to know him, the disparities between the two of you only became more clear. He was annoyingly flawless, and you seemed to be built of nothing but flaws, at least according to most of your teachers and your parents.

The constant comparisons were grating on your nerves, and you knew that if you never saw Tim again, it’d be too late. The damage to your fragile self-esteem was already done.

Luckily, today, Tim had to be with his father for some stupid gala, leaving you to hang out with your two normal, non-superhuman friends, who would never rub their perfections into your face. Even if they had plenty of them. You knew the two of them toned down their gloating when you were around, and they were always trying to hype you up, to get you to brag about your accomplishments. To hear about it from them, you’d think you were the most talented person in Gotham, if not all of America.

You were pretty sure that particular award could go to Tim.

Everything was perfect, all three of you working on your own individual homework. Steph and Kon weren’t in the class you were working on. Tim, of course, was, and he was top of the class, as you were constantly being reminded. God, he was pretentious.

Everything was perfect, of course, until Tim walked in. Steph and Kon lit up, smiling and welcoming him in. His hair was, once again, perfectly tousled, and he had clearly changed back into his normal clothes.

“Ditching, pretty boy?” Kon teased, reaching over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“Awe, don’t tease him, you know he’s a daddy’s boy,” Steph said, laughing.

Tim just batted Conner’s hands away, before turning to face you all.

“I got out of the gala early. My presence was unneeded.” He said, face completely blank. God, he even talked like a fucking robot. You turned away, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, are you working on homework? I can help…” He began, looking over your shoulder. You turned slightly to look at him, baring your teeth in what barely counted as a smile. “I’m. Okay,” you said, teeth grinding. Tim winced at the sight. “A-alright. I’ll just…” he gestured to where Steph and Kon had migrated to Steph’s bed, now painting their nails.

You finished your homework in record time and stood up, eager to just make an excuse and get home.

“Sorry guys, my parents must be worried… I have to get home,” you said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, it’s alright, you can stay. Your parents are still at the gala.” Tim said, not even bothering to look up from where he was concentrating on painting Steph’s pinky.

Shit. He couldn’t even let you leave in dignity, could he?

You gripped the handle of your bag even tighter and turned around. “W-well, still. They don’t want me out too late.” Steph and Kon nodded, saying their goodbyes with ease. Kon waved, his newly painted black nails shining in the dim light.

Tim simply. Stared at you. It’s like he knew you were lying. What a fucking asshole.

You left without another word.

The next day, your parents dropped a bombshell on you. You were all moving. Again. No amount of protest seemed to change their mind. The date was set and your house was sold; you had until the end of the week to say goodbye to your new life.

You, of course, immediately told your new friends. You hadn’t even known them for a month. You should’ve known this would happen; your parents would never let you be happy, and neither would the universe. The mood was solemn as you all sat around your designated table. Even Tim looked upset. More upset than you’d ever seen him, in fact, you think this was the first time you’d ever seen him show an emotion.

Steph looked over, eyes pitying. She squeezed Tim’s hand. What? Geeze, you were the one who was fucking leaving, and he’s the one who was getting comforted! He didn’t even like you!

Kon leaned over the table and grasped your hand, blocking Steph and Tim from your view.

“Hey, kiddo, you okay?” You simply shook your head, biting on your trembling lip. Sure, you didn’t like Tim, but you’d miss your friends!

“Is there any way to change your parents’ minds?” Steph asked as Kon leaned back. All hint of emotion was gone from Tim’s face. He couldn’t even pretend to be upset for the rest of lunch?

“No, no. They already sold the house…” You sniffled.

“Oh…” She said, looking down at the floor. You could hear the defeat in her voice, even as it wavered.

“Well, maybe you can come over tomorrow? One last hurrah, you know? We can spend the night together, do each other's nails, watch a movie…” She asked, voice hopeful.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds okay…”

“You’re crying.” Tim stated, voice cold and hard. Your hands flew up to your face, shocked to find tears slowly running down your cheeks. Fuck. Fuck him for saying something. You were fucking done. You were done! He couldn’t even pretend to care for a few minutes, and now he was mocking you?! You felt your anger boil up, faster than it ever had.

“Jesus, I’m sorry for fucking expressing emotion, not like you’d know anything about that!” You said, voice cracking. You slammed your hands down on the table as you stood up, grabbing your backpack and slinging it across your shoulder. Tim looked up, startled by your outburst, mouth agape. Steph and Kon wore similar gobsmacked expressions. If you weren’t so pissed, you’d find it almost comical.

Still, you were incandescent. You fled the room, rage boiling underneath your skin, masking the hurt you were burying deep inside.

You ignored Tim the rest of the day. As a consequence, you were unable to talk to Steph and Kon. The distance pained you, but you knew if you had to see Tim’s smarmy face, you’d punch his teeth out. Neither approached you alone, though they did shoot you guilty looks from across the classroom. 

The pain was the worst part. Tim’d been an asshole, he’d made fun of you for as long as you’d known them, and they were choosing him. Everyone always chose Tim; your parents, your teachers, the press… You were stuck in his shadow, doomed to never meet his fucking mold. You were done. You just couldn’t deal with it, not while losing your two best friends, the best friends you’d ever had.

Steph texted you that night, asking you to still come over. She’d assured you that Tim and Kon wouldn’t even be there. The knowledge that Kon was still choosing Tim was painful, but you could deal with it, just to see Steph that one last time.

So, you’d agreed.

The next day came with a fresh wave of grief, pouring off you in waves. It was exhausting, so exhausting that your parents asked you to stay home, concerned you would pass out and be injured right before the big move.

You’d agreed, and spent the day catching up on some much-needed sleep.

That evening, you waved goodbye to your parents, bag slung over your shoulder, and began the walk to Steph’s place. Her family was middle class, not as wealthy as yours, but still quite well-off. You had never seen either of her parents, but Steph assured you she had a very competent housekeeper to help her out when she needed an adult.

You were almost to her house when it hit you. What the fuck were you doing? You shouldn’t be doing this. You were being naive. You’d only known them a short while, they’d forget you in a week! It would be best to just turn right around and go home; that way, you’d be spared the pain of a slow, petering off relationship. You didn’t want to watch as they made new friends, replaced you, slowly stopped responding to your calls; you couldn’t bear the pain.

So, you turned around and walked right back home, not even bothering to text Steph. You’d call her at home, when you were safe in your bed, and you had the room to cry all you wanted and eat as much ice cream as you could handle.

As you walked home, shivering, you couldn’t help but look up. The bat-signal was up, projected against the cloudy night sky. If there was one thing you wouldn’t miss, besides Tim, it was the constant crime. The constant need to carry a gas mask or a taser, the constant preparation to be kidnapped or maimed or tortured. It was tiring, always being on edge.

You kept your eyes on the rooftops, hoping for a glimpse of one of the bats. You couldn’t help your slight fascination with them, despite the way your frie- former friends constantly laughed at you. Tim had looked weirdly smug after he’d wheedled you into admitting Red Robin was your favorite, though you thought the newest superboy on the scene was your favorite hero in general. You just liked his hair (and the way he reminded you of Conner).

It was only once you were back in your neighborhood that you noticed the feeling of being watched. You whipped your head around, looking every direction and clutching your taser. You couldn’t find anyone.

Shrugging it off as needless paranoia, built up over your stay in Gotham, you continued.

The lights in your house were off. The lights in your house were off, but your parents had promised they’d leave them on for when you got home. Did the fucking forget about you?!

You grumbled and stomped up the driveway.

The door was open. A sense of unease began to build, tension keeping your stomach in knots.

You slowly pushed it open, taser in hand.

The house was dark, and empty. Even the curtains were gone. You stepped further in, anxiety beginning to build.

“Mom? Dad?” You called, walking through the living room and to the stairs. You checked each room; each was as empty as the last, both devoid of any furniture, and your parents.

You made your way up the stairs, searching each room, all empty, until you came upon your room, tucked away in the corner away from your parents’ room. The light was on, shining through the cracks in the door and barely illuminating the dark hallway. You snuck closer, taser out and ready.

Finally, you were in front of the door, and you kicked it open.

Inside, your room was perfectly preserved, the overhead light shining down.

Sitting on the bed, head buried in his laptop, was Tim fucking Drake.

“Wha- Tim?” You said, tensed shoulders drooping.

He looked up and smiled, though it didn’t reach his stony eyes.

“Hey, come in.” he gestured to the bed. Confused, you wandered over and plopped down. 

He sighed and turned to face you.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this. I never meant to upset you, but I’m afraid it’s simply inevitable.”

You stared at him. “Tim, where-where are my parents?”

He sighed again, looking out the window.

“I thought we’d be able to avoid this. I thought I’d have time. I’m sorry it had to happen this way.”

“...”

He turned the laptop to you and clicked play on the video queued up.

On screen, your parents appeared.

“I know about the assistant.” Tim’s voice came through, tinny from the low quality of the   video.

“Wh- I don’t know what you’re talking about…” your father’s voice was shaky, shakier than you’d ever heard it.

“There was an accident, wasn’t there.” Tim.

“N-no. No!” Your mom, anger clear on her face.

“It only takes one push and the story gets out.” Tim, voice and face clear. His eyes were stony, glaring down at where your parents sat on the couch.

“We’re leaving town, it won’t matter. We’ll leave.” Your dad said, voice sure. He stood up.

“Sit down.” Tim commanded, and your father did, fear flicking across his face.

“It doesn’t matter that you’re leaving. The Daily Planet is an internationally renowned paper.”

“Please, that would ruin us, you can’t!” Your mom begged, tears springing up.

“What do you want.” Your father said, face stormy. You knew he was picturing hitting Tim, and you knew he was calculating the risk.

“I want you to leave, right now, and we’ll pretend nothing ever happened.”

“We will, we will! Just let me call my daugh-”

“No. Right now.”

“...” 

You could see the acquiescence, the relief, on your father’s face. He nodded, determination slowly creeping onto his features. Your mother just sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“And what of our things?”

“I’ll have them sent to your new address.”

“How-”

Tim just stared at your mother, face grim. She closed her jaw with a sharp ‘clack’.

The video ended.

You stared, speechless. Tim simply looked over at you, face blank.

“W-wh- I don’t… I don’t understand?” You said, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, but when you said your parents were moving… I had to move quickly.”

You stood up and began walking, feeling as though you were pushing through cotton, like you were seeing yourself in 3rd person. You could barely hear Tim calling your name as you walked down the stairs, toward the door, slowly walking faster and faster. You pushed the door open hard, barely flinching as it slammed into the frame, and burst into a sprint.

You didn’t get far.

A red blur streaked through your peripherals before coming to a stop in front of you. There was superboy, staring at you with guilt in his eyes. No, not superboy. It was Conner.

Just like that, your heart fell. 

“No.” you said, voice shaky with disbelief.

“No!” you backed up, raising the taser. Conner moved closer, hands raised in placation. You flicked the taser on and let it connect with his side. He didn’t even flinch.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You shouted, dropping the taser and whirling around to run.

Arms like steel wrapped around you and picked you up. Suddenly, you were thrown over his shoulder, your vision upside down. He marched you back into the house, plopping you back on the bed where Tim still sat, the laptop on your nightstand.

Conner shot you another guilty look, standing guard by the door, his arms crossed over his muscled chest. You’d never noticed how buff he was; you guessed the jacket was there to prevent you from noticing.

You were crying in earnest now, tears running down your cheeks.

“Please,” you begged, voice cracking.

Tim looked at you, blew out a breath, and wiped your face gently, hands cool. He cradled your face, bringing it closer.

Gently, oh so gently, he kissed your forehead, then brought your head into his shoulder, as you continued to cry. He shushed you, patting your back comfortingly.

“Why?!” you cried.

He gave no answer.

Finally, your crying slowed, then stopped. You pulled away and wiped your eyes with your sleeves.

“You’re going to come with me. We’re going to go back to my place, and you’re going to meet the rest of your family.”

You looked up at Conner, pleading with your eyes. He looked away, grimacing.

“Tim, I- I don’t want to do that, I want my parents, you get that this is fucked up, right?!” You questioned, voice cracking.

“I’m sorry. I had no choice.”

[batfamily14]

Bruce Wanye had graciously allowed you to stay at Wayne Manor for the week—and make no mistake, he wasn’t leaving anything to chance. You’re human, or at least that’s what you claim; he’s still looking into it. As you crossed the threshold and stepped into the grand hall, you quickly realized that the guest experience here came with its own set of very specific—and rather peculiar—rules. Bruce had thoughtfully prepared a list of guidelines to ensure you don’t trigger anyone in the Manor. Please use them at your discretion.

Dick Grayson

1. Do not touch him without being in his line of sight, especially on his lower back.

2. Do NOT mention tarantulas.

3. If it isn’t already obvious, don’t play out loud circus or theatrical musicals.

4. Can be emotionally sensitive to the smell of popcorn or peanuts.

5. If he’s upset, just leave him to himself. He can become more enraged if anyone tries to calm him down before he’s ready.

6. If you wanted to help calm him, you could order from a Romani restaurant downtown.

7. Avoid calling him ‘Robin’ or referring to his past role as Batman’s partner unless necessary.

8. Don’t bring up his days circus or bring up his acrobat training unless he does it first.

9. If he’s having a difficult day, don’t try to cheer him up with humor or jokes; it might only make things worse.

10. Do not assume he wants to be the center of attention at social gatherings. He prefers to keep a low profile.

11. If you compliment him, please stay away from physical compliments.

Jason Todd

1. Do not touch him AT ALL. Unless he touches you first.

2. Don’t mention his scars, obviously, or stare.

3. The rumors you’ve heard around Gotham are probably true or false, either way, don’t ask him. Especially not about any bloody duffle bags.

4. He hates 1950s to 1960s music, as you know Joker loves it. Especially when tormenting his victims.

5. If you want to insult him, calling him ‘Robin’ will do it.

6. Don’t call him ‘Jaybird.’ He only allows Dick to do this.

7. If he’s brooding, don’t try to lighten the mood with jokes or sarcasm. He will shut you down.

8. Never imply that he’s not part of the family, even in jest.

9. Avoid taking anyone's side in arguments, especially against him, he takes things more personally than Dick.

10. Don’t ask him about his past with any of Batfamily unless he brings it up.

11. If you leave the Manor let him know, he obsesses sometimes about where everyone is.

12. Don’t playful threaten him.

Tim Drake

1. Don’t make any jokes about him, even lighthearted teasing.

2. If he’s sleepy, constantly make yourself known when entering his room or any other rooms in the household.

3. If he’s not eating much, don’t mention this directly. Instead, you could pretend to eat a snack and then offer him some.

4. He doesn’t have a spleen, so don’t hug him too tightly.

5. Don’t refer to him as “just a kid” or imply he’s not as capable as the older members of the family.

6. Avoid questioning his decisions or his ability to handle situations without offering unsolicited advice.

7. If you’re trying to comfort him, avoid overly emotional gestures. A simple, low-pressure offer of help works better than trying to “fix” the problem.

8. Do not bring up the topic of replacements—he does not like to feel like he’s “filling in” for anyone.

9. Avoid giving him unsolicited praise. He’s used to doing things under the radar and can find compliments awkward or unnecessary.

10. If he’s working on a problem or case, don’t interrupt him unless it’s important. Tim can get frustrated with distractions.

Duke Thomas

1. He’s usually tired after his day shift, so please make sure he rests and no one disturbs.

2. Don’t bring up his parents, unless he talks about it.

3. Do NOT mention Joker gas.

4. He enjoys classical music when stressed, especially piano.

5. Don’t treat him like he’s fragile—he’s been through a lot and prefers to handle things himself.

6. Avoid pushing him into leadership roles or responsibilities he’s not comfortable with. He prefers to work in the background.

7. If he’s meditating or doing personal exercises, don’t interrupt unless it’s urgent.

8. Don’t make assumptions about his powers or the “We Are Robin” group. He’s more than just his role in the city.

9. if you wanna calm him down, he does enjoy a good old school sitcom.

10. If he’s quiet or withdrawn, don’t push him to talk. Let him open up on his own terms.

Damian Wayne

1. Don’t treat him like a child when it comes to conversation. Despite his age, treat him as an equal, but appropriately. He wants to feel respected and listened to, not controlled.

2. It’s easy for him to feel inadequate, especially if you overlook him. To fix this, you can try creating tasks that are challenging yet accomplishable.

3. He can forget to be a child, and you will too sometimes. He may make you angry or stress you, but he’s still a kid. Remember he enjoys childhood things, even if he won’t mention it. Play video games, go outside, and do things as you remember from your own childhood.

4. Do NOT mention the sword scar.

5. Avoid belittling his pride or his skills. He is very sensitive about being underestimated.

6. Don’t bring up his mother, Talia, unless he initiates the conversation. He’s conflicted about her and the League of Assassins.

7. Don’t call him ‘little demon’ or any other nickname that mocks his heritage. He takes his legacy very seriously.

8. If he’s pushing himself too hard, don’t dismiss his need for rest. He may act like he doesn’t need it, but he’s still growing and has limits.

9. Don’t imply that he’s just trying to prove himself. Damian is often trying to be seen as worthy, and suggesting he’s just seeking approval can hurt his pride.

10. If he’s upset or angry, don’t try to rush him through it. Let him cool down on his own before approaching him.

Cassandra Cain

1. She spends too much time alone; please don’t push her away.

2. Do not walk up on her. Make your presence known if you value your bones.

3. If you’re picking the movie, don’t choose “Kill Bill.”

4. If you want to cheer her up, take her to the ballet.

5. Avoid making assumptions about her because of her silence. She’s not shy, just more selective with her words.

6. Don’t bring up her past as an assassin unless she initiates the topic.

7. Don’t force her into social situations. She’s comfortable in her own space and will engage when she’s ready.

8. If she’s in a bad mood, give her time to process things alone. Don’t try to “fix” it.

9. Don’t treat her like she’s broken or fragile. Her silence doesn’t mean weakness.

10. Respect her boundaries. She values her autonomy and can feel trapped if pushed too much.

11. Do touch her hair or pet her head.

Stephanie Brown

1. Do not get drunk around her, especially if you are a belligerent drunk.

2. Don’t belittle her efforts or dismiss her contributions—she’s very self-conscious about being underestimated.

3. Avoid comparing her to the others girls, she’s working hard to prove herself, and it’s a sensitive topic.

4. If she’s struggling with something, don’t try to fix it right away. She might just need someone to listen and give her space to figure things out.

5. Don’t assume she’s just the “optimistic, cheerful” one. Stephanie has her own burdens and isn’t always in the mood to be “the bright spot.”

6. Never imply she’s not capable. She’ll do anything to prove her worth.

7. Don’t joke about her past failures. She’s been through a lot, and some things are still very fresh for her.

8. If she’s in a bad mood, give her time and don’t push her to open up. Let her come to you when she’s ready.

9. Avoid any talk of the riddler.

10. If she’s feeling anxious or uncertain, don’t rush her through it or try to “cheer her up.” Let her work through things at her own pace.

Barbra Gordon

1. She’s savvy and incredibly intelligent, but even she needs a break—don’t consistently bother her.

2. Don’t push her wheelchair; she doesn’t need pity or your help unless she asks for it.

3. Do NOT touch her back.

4. Be considerate of movies or shows with a lot of gun violence and loud, abrupt sounds.

5. Avoid reminding her of her past as Batgirl, unless she brings it up herself.

6. Don’t assume she’s incapable of handling something herself. She’s incredibly resourceful and prefers to figure things out on her own.

7. Respect her boundaries when it comes to her personal space—she doesn’t like to feel crowded or rushed.

8. Never offer unsolicited assistance, especially when it comes to tech or systems. She’s more than capable and might find it patronizing.

9. If she’s not responding right away, don’t assume she’s ignoring you—she may just be deep in thought or focusing on something.

10. If she’s having a difficult day, don’t push her to “talk it out.” She might need space to process things on her own.

11. If you wanna take pictures with her she’s okay, unless it’s with a polaroid camera.

Alfred Pennyworth

1. He desires his own space; he does so much already. That being said, he doesn’t really like people cooking in his kitchen—what’s wrong with what he made?

2. Don’t interfere with his routines or try to take over his responsibilities. He’s been running the Manor for years and prefers to handle things his way.

3. Avoid offering unsolicited advice about the family. He’s seen it all and knows what’s best for everyone—no need to second-guess his judgment.

4. Don’t overcomplicate things for him. Alfred is a man of simple, practical solutions. Keep it straightforward.

5. Don’t treat him like a servant. He’s family, and he values being respected as such.

6. Never try to undermine his authority or give the children permission to do things he’s already said no to. He’s earned their respect as a father figure.

7. If he’s tired or overworked, don’t push him to keep going. Alfred will always put others first, but don’t take advantage of his generosity.

8. Avoid mentioning his past in the military unless he brings it up. He doesn’t care to dwell on it and would rather focus on the present.

9. Don’t try to be overly affectionate or emotional with him, especially in public. Alfred prefers to keep things composed and proper.

10. If he’s making tea or offering a meal, don’t turn it down unless you absolutely have to. It’s one of the ways he shows he cares.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Do you have any Dallas Winston hcs? Either in present day or modern day?

Hi anon! Sure, I can try my best, sorry if they’re not the best Dally is tricky for me to write.

(Sort of) Modern Dallas Winston Headcanons:

-Is not a dog person OR a cat person but a secret third thing: a ferret person. He had two back in New York but sold them when he ran to Tulsa

-Ignores best before dates completely. Unless food is mouldy or smells RANK bro will still eat it

-Has a half sister ten years older than him on his dad’s side who looked after him when he was really little…until she got addicted to heroin. Dally hates her and misses her all at the same time. She was still alive when he ran to Tulsa but he has no idea if she’s still alive now.

-Loves anything cinnamon flavoured. Bro would fuck up a bag of cinnamon hearts.

-He likes to sit near couples who are very obviously nervous on first dates and do stuff to make them awkward/uncomfortable. Sometimes he enlists Two-bit’s help and they chew with their mouths open and tell gross stories really loudly. Once he brought Johnny and loudly gave him the sex talk when some couple was starting to get handsy and Johnny didn’t speak to him for a solid week.

-Jumping middle schoolers is a weird sort of way of getting back at the universe because he got jumped a bunch of times when he was their age and why should they have it better than him?

-Has a favourite horse he jockeys, a pretty, spirited, kind of mean horse called Lullabelle that he plans to steal if he ever has to run from Tulsa the way he ran from new york

-Refuses to ever talk about why he ran from New York

-Modern Dally would hate vapes and think they’re for folks who ‘can’t handle real cigs’

-Is almost as much of a car guy as Soda and Steve

-Couldn’t see him liking much social media. Maybe Snapchat a little bit but in general I think he wouldn’t be super plugged in, mostly because he didn’t have much access to technology as a kid 

-Stole Johnny his Jean jacket which is part of why Johnny likes it so much

-Always smells RANK, hygiene is not his number one priority (or even his number 2)

-Has a bunch of dumb tattoos, like none of them have meaning he just thought they looked cool and WILL regret some of them one day. He’s got a fuckass snake on his calf and it looks SO bad and he knows it but refuses to admit it

-Chipped a tooth once when he lost a fight to Tim Shepard and it’s not SUPER obvious but he whistles a bit when he makes an ‘s’ sound if he’s not paying attention and he hates it

-Often ties his hair back in a ponytail because he doesn’t like the feel of grease in his hair

-He, Ponyboy, and Johnny all tried to outsmoke each other once. Dally lost to both of them, and Pony ‘won’ overall but at what cost? (He got real nic sick and Darry was FURIOUS)

[mouthsfullofsharpteeth]

This might be an unpopular opinion but i think we need more boyfail Tim content. Hes a quiet little dork with formerly no friends. Let him be socially awkward and sometimes say the wrong thing and get uncomfortable in groups and be a little pathetic

[siren-of-the-ocean-tumbls]

I finally read Tim Drake: Robin and I have some thoughts. Specifically about what it would be like to have Tim Drake as a neighbor.

Tim should be a recluse. He should be pretty isolated because you know. Vigilante. But people who are hermets are noteworthy and the last think you want while moonlighting as a vigilante?

To be noteworthy.

Tim blends into the Marina really well. Whether for a cover or just because Tim Drake is a social creature (if incredibly awkward and sometimes socially inept). He makes friends.

To the point where, in issue 10, everyone in the marina comes to save him. Robin or not.

But, Tim, in not being a recluse is probably also a weird neighbor. Especially in the marina. Like, this kid grew up alone. Rich. And now he's living there? So you're gonna get strangeness. Beyond Batwoman doing a full nosedive into his boat.

I can just imagine:

Pie: Hey, can I borrow your spanner? There's something wrong with the-

Tim: Sure. Tools are out on the deck and everyone in the marina is free to use them as they like

Pie: ...sure. thanks...

Like, Tim would be the absolute strangest combination of: I am the community library, Google, Tool service, etc but then also: My boat is so off limits. Completely off limits. No-one comes beyond the deck.

And we as the readers know why that is but you gotta imagine it from the Marina's POV.

Tim Drake (Formerly Wayne) buys a boat. He is now your neighbor. It is also the most broken down, ugly boat that you have ever seen. He loans out tools that most people rent for more money than their boat is worth. He also does not allow anyone into his house. Robin spends the night there. He's also dating someone just freed from a pain cult.

You gotta admit that Tim, from an outsiders perspective, must be a absolute nightmare to observe. And the Marina's just used to it by now. Like "That's Tim. Yes Drake. No, he's not weird about the money, at least not in the way you think. But he is really weird. Don't worry, you'll get used to it".

Point of this whole post being TIM DRAKE IS *THAT* NEIGHBOR!

[thelibrarian1895]

Social Profile

Brucie Wayne is often invited to charities, galas, openings to future trendy spots, and other similar things that the rich/famous are invited to attend and can't always refuse without social repercussions. Bruce has an algorithm that lets him figure out how many of these things he has to go to in order to most effectively maintain the Brucie mask and do the most good while still being able to have time for Batman/being a social awkward introvert. Bruce helps each of his kids adjust the algorithm to suit each of them and their social batteries and social persona.

The other awkward part of being famous, whether or not they come with a date. Brucie Wayne famously attends with various models, actresses, actors, singers, artists, and Selina Kyle who is a category to herself. The models/actors/actresses etc are chosen based on how likely they are to notice if Bruce sneaks away and how much they're really just wanting to go to an event for their own social networking. Most of them have no physical interest in Bruce but are willing to let people think they slept with Brucie because why not? Bruce is slightly less of a slut than he appears in that he doesn't tend to sleep with civilians though he won't necessarily say no.

Dick goes to events almost exclusively with Barbara, Donna, or Kori or as part of Bruce's group. In a pinch Stephanie might put on some makeup to look older and be his arm candy but he'd have to bribe her a lot. He's able to dodge most events since he has a much lower civilian profile. Dick will always show up as a volunteer for charity events.

Jason laughs at all his siblings and sometimes watches the news reports of events while eating popcorn. In this one situation, it's good to be dead. On occasion he might stage a kidnapping. He will also be on standby to help save the day/provide a distraction if an event where a Bat is attending as a civilian is attacked somehow. He is there as security and a volunteer for charity events.

If Jason is forced back into the limelight, he will claim trauma and be famously a hermit and still stay at home and laugh at whichever sucker is stuck attending while he eats popcorn/watches to make sure that nothing goes wrong. If it's a charity event where something is actually being done, like a walk for charity or handing out things then Jason will be there as one of the volunteers and not as Jason Wayne.

Tim Drake Wayne is stuck going to the most events after Bruce and he is enormously annoyed by the fact. He has his own algorithm. He'll either go to an event as part of Bruce's group or he'll get a member of YJ to come as his arm candy. He, of course, makes sure they have a dress or suit that's appropriate for the evening. Cissie is the one who acts as arm candy for him most often since she can use the events for her own networking and has the most patience for all that nonsense. Bart will do many things for Tim, but he won't do this. He will, however, be ready to extract Tim and Tim's companion at a moment's notice. Cassie, Greta, and Anita will only go if there's going to be really good food or Tim treats them to something extra delicious and an opportunity to beat something up afterwards, Tim also has to pay for babysitters for Anita. Kon is the one who goes with Tim most often after Cissie and he and Tim whisper various commentary to one another about the other attendees. Whoever makes the other laugh out loud picks their next outing together. All of them will show up for charity events, handing out food and drinks or doing whatever, as long as their schedules will allow.

Stephanie, like Jason, watches with popcorn since she's not an official Wayne. She'll sometimes be Tim or even Dick's arm candy but otherwise is suited up and ready to cover the attendee's patrol or save the hapless civilians at a moment's notice. Never has she been more glad to not be famous than after an evening of attending ONE trendy event and being patronized and unable to punch someone the entire evening. She will also be one of the volunteers at charity events that have volunteers.

Cass will accompany Bruce or Tim and then hang out by the food. She has little interest in being at whatever event, unless it's for charity, and is plotting how to be another Wayne family hermit. She does like being a volunteer at charity events.

Duke sticks to Cass at events if he has to go or he sticks to Bruce. He plans to be exclusively the Wayne that goes to charity events, something he'll have to battle with all the rest of the family about since they all would rather be the Wayne at charity events.

Damian, a child, is not looking forward to the various social activities that help maintain a civilian mask. He's torn between being the next Wayne of Wayne enterprises or following Dick's footsteps and going for a lower civilian profile.

[vee-crytraps]

Kiss Me More {Themes/TW's Masterlist}

Pairings: Dick Grayson/Reader, Jason Todd/Reader, Tim Drake/Reader, Damian Wayne/Reader Trigger Warnings: 18+, light yandere, graphic descriptions of sex, Fan-non personalities, reverse harem, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy pining, teenage hormones, (legal) age differences, fem!reader, violence, drug use, polyandry. General Themes: Sex positivity, sexual curiosity, sexual promiscuity, sexy sex sex sex, struggling with growing up, struggling with Naughty Feelings, trying to become a person, general feeling of being misunderstood, possibility of light angst in future, family death (mentioned).

Chapters: 1 | GROAN (Jason/Reader 🔞) 2 | BURNING DOWN THE HOUSE 3 | EAU D'BEDROOM DANCING (Dick/Reader 🔞) 4 | ORNAMENT 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 5 | KRIMSON (Tim/Reader 🔞) 6 | TO YOU (Damian/Reader 🔞)

Reference:

Ages: Dick 29 | Jason 23 | Tim 20 | Damian 18 | Reader 18 DICK is the ‘no man will compare to your charming big brother’ type. He is your knight in shining armor, always eager to put you first. He believes no one will be able to take care of you the way that he can, but doesn't view other men as competition- preferring to show you that he’s better. He's your childhood friend, your 'boy-(in-the-room-) next-door'. Dick's love language is...kind of all of them? But he loves spending time with you, lounging about your room while you choose outfits and recount high school drama. JASON is one of your more estranged siblings. He gets off knowing that Bruce views you as an innocent, and that your involvement with him in particular is taboo in all sorts of ways. Part of him is getting over the fact that you really aren’t as delicate as you used to be, far from the annoying brat he believed too weak for their nightly family adventures. He wants to protect you but also feels like he’s missed too many formative years to really boss you around like an older brother. Whenever he tries, it always comes out a little awkward. He’s the care-free fun sibling, letting you get away with whatever you want while simultaneously encouraging it. He is a pleasure seeker and an enabler, but will also recite some poetry after he finishes boning you on his couch. TIM is like a best friend. This relationship is more casual than truly lusty or romantic, at least at the start. Even your intimacy is playful and spontaneous. There's no pressure to be anything but yourself, in and out of the bedroom. Tim mostly adores your curiosity, a trait which you both share. You often go down wikipedia rabbit holes together, or people watch at the park outside of WayneTech during his lunch breaks. You've also started a snapchat series of him falling asleep in strange places. DAMIAN is a total dominant personality, if somewhat socially awkward. In some ways, he believes you belong to him. He views you as a pet or a toy sometimes, wishing to take care of you in his own way. His role in your life is essentially a sexual and romantic version of how Bruce sees you. Damian dresses you, enjoys bathing you and would rather watch you get off than be able to get himself off. Like Bruce, it's as much of a control thing as it is a 'I don't know how to interact with people in a genuine way' thing. He doesn’t always know what to do with reciprocation as he’s never had it, but he doesn’t need it with you. Much like the relationship between a pet and it’s human, it’s one sided care. This is important because Damian cherishes pets over humans, so the fact that he cares for you like a dog means that you’re highly valued in his mind.

Lil Notes: Feel free to suggest/request little scenarios! If they don't inspire anything for Kiss Me More, they might make a nice little one shot! No guarantee that I can get around to them, but I will try my best! I'll be re-posting my work from Ao3 onto Tumblr slowly so I don't flood the tags.

[cryinonthebusdyinlittlewuss]

When you're thinking royalty/knight with Timkon (as I'm sure we all do) your instinct might be Royalty Tim and Knight Kon because Tim's very princely and Kon is a rowdy boy. Just based off vibes and character dynamics it makes sense.

However

I think that having Tim as the knight and Kon as a bastard prince is BETTER. So here's my pitch for an AU please see the vision Tumblr 🙏

Tim: the noble son of socialites in Duke Bruce Wayne's court/lordship(?), trains as a knight under Bruce Wayne after his second prodigy swordman son dies, becomes youngest ever royal guard, is then sent away to train as a knight under another allied kingdom, and is assigned as Prince Kon's personal knight in shining armour

Which leads to

Bruce, classic Batman backstory but instead of Batman it's just fencing and wars and whatnot, on of his allied kingdoms is the kingdom of Metropolis where his ally Clark Kent/Kal El, adopted Dick when circus was in town performing at court yada yada, adopted Jason off the streets, Jason died, the kingdom suffers, Tim forces his way to the top of the Royal Guard and is a pain in Bruce's ass about justice and talking him down and being loyal to his king and his duty as a knight, looking out for him and Bruce sends Tim off to train in Metropolis

Dick: pretty standard background, lives in the seedy (only slightly seedier then Gotham, but doesn't have the rouges like in Gotham)* harbour town Bludhaven settling disputes in that city as like acting lord or something, slowly repairing relationship with Bruce and is in full support of Tim training in Metropolis under Clark Becuase Dick trained under Clark as a kid as well

*Rouges are just like magic users that fuck things up in Gotham, Magic is canon but only certain people can do it and the Al Ghouls are just straight up necromancers which is like. Basically already Canon

Clark: main antagonist for drama purposes but not That bad, a good king kingdom and is generally a good guy, Married to his Queen Lois with a young crown Prince Jon and has an older Bastard child (possibly cursed into him or maybe he and Lex just had a wild knight one time,who knows) but he finds out about Kon after Kon is like a teenager, is just super awkward and sometimes unfairly strict on Kon but hey he's trying

Kon: disgraced from being a crown prince for being a bastard child and not properly trained or educated to be a prince, gets thrust into royal life after mostly social isolation, people see him as the black sheep and the odd one out in his family becuase he's illegitimate, Kon is constantly trying to escape from his Father's hovering and the palace life where everyone is either too formal or snakes who call him a Bastard behind his back,so he's always sneaking out and getting into trouble Becuase there's nobody there to protect him

Enter Tim, stage right

Tim is originally very bitter about being sent away but eventually has fun in the guard (other guards include Cassie and Bart because they need to get in there somewhere and it is TimKon centered)

And then you have Tim assigned as Mom's personal guard and they start out not liking each other but then becoming friends and falling in love and it's adorable💕

[speedforce-zoomies]

“Can I ask you a question?”

Janet turned to face her semi-regular visitor, an alternative version of her son, and boy, wasn’t that a sentence?

“Different from the ones I’ve been asking, I mean?”

“Oh course, birdie.”

It had been rather awkward for the both of them the first time Janet had instinctively used a pet name that she used for her own Tim, one that his Mother had also used for him.

He had blinked away tears so quickly that if she hadn’t known all versions of her son so dearly she would have thought she had imagined it.

From that point on she made sure to only call him Tim or Birdie, a pet based off his hero identity, (and it still took the breath out of her lungs to think about any version of her baby fighting criminals with nothing but a belt full of tools and a metal staff. Her fear for him was not at all canceled out by her pride). The name deemed safe since her own Tim was a civilian.

Though, even “Tim” got confusing sometimes when trying to differentiate between her son and the son of dead version of herself.

She had asked if it would perhaps be better to call him Jackson and he had frowned at the suggestion, suggesting Alvin or Carl as alternatives instead with a sudden, sly smirk and a snicker when he saw her expression.

He smiled at her now, a soft, gentle thing, that spoke of comfort but his eyes were sad.

“Do you think…” he paused, “Do you think, if things were reversed between our worlds and you had passed, sorry, this is, uh, um a pretty heavy question...”

Tim trailed off, eyes glued to the bare white wall across from him and Janet walked over and sat beside him, not touching, just silently offering support.

“It’s okay, it’s obviously burdening you, let me carry some of the weight. What’s on your mind, Birdie?”

“If it were you that had die-passed, and your Tim had access to trans-dimensional travel, would it… would it make you sad or hurt your feelings if your Tim was to visit my mom?”

Janet paused, thinking it over.

Tim didn’t look at her, allowing her to consider her words carefully.

“A little bit, I think. Not hurt, but sad, because of course my preference would be to be a part of his life. However, even if it would make me a little sad, it would mean the world to me that another Janet was able to open up her arms to my son, that he had found a way to ease his pain, even if just a little bit.”

He smiled at her and it was watery.

“You know, when I come to visit, I take the information you give me and I go though my Mama’s stuff, almost like I’m gathering clues here and putting the pieces together there.”

He paused, trying and failing to not fidget.

“I had no idea, about the Emily Dickinson poem, until you told me and then I went home and she had used that poem in a couple of her poems and social media posts.”

He leaned in to her space.

“It’s nice, getting to learn about her, even now that she’s gone… I appreciate you, you giving me the chance to do so.”

Janet gently bumped shoulders with him, “Of course, Birdie.”

“It also kind of feels weird,” he confessed, “to investigate my own mom like this.”

Janet hummed, and took a chance, “Well, you are two anthropologists’ son, investigating the dead is kind of in your blood.”

Tim choked out a laugh, “Yeah,” he huffed out, voice low and rough but still amused, “guess you’re right.”

He leaned back against the sofa, “She’d love that, I think, being an anthropological revelation.”

“I’d be flattered, certainly.”

Tim snickered at that.

“Do you think your Tim is gonna be an anthologist. Like you and his dad?”

Janet hummed, “Maybe. He enjoys coming out to digs on holidays and summer vacations. But he also enjoys his photography and he keeps making jokes, that I’m not entirely sure are actually jokes about becoming a professional skateboarder.”

Tim snorted in amusement, “Well, I’m rooting for him if he goes for it.”

Janet grinned. “I will too, if that’s his passion in life, though I will expect him to have a backup plan, of course.”

“Of course.” Tim agreed.

“Anything but vigilante!” She shook his shoulder gently, “I already have one of those to worry about!”

He laughed, and he didn’t sound like her own Tim when he laughed.

He sounded like her, or well, she thought, another version of me.

——

I wrote a lot of words just to say I’m not over Batman (2016) #134 & I never will be ^.^

[thebisexualdogdad]

WFA Jason or Dick (your choice) Dating Damian's teacher Imagine pleaseth

Dick Grayson x Male!reader

Damian Wayne was an interesting student to say the least and when you called his father in for a parent teacher conference you were quite surprised when a handsome man about your age showed up instead of the Bruce Wayne you frequently saw on TV.

"I'm sorry are you a parent?" You ask him.

"Oh no I'm Damian Wayne's brother Dick, our father Bruce wasn't able to make it so he asked me to come instead," he explains.

"Well as nice as it is to meet you Dick I called your father in to talk about some of Damians… behavior issues which I should really talk to Bruce himself about," he states.

"Don't worry he's just as frustrating at home, he knows he's smarter than most people and has a big head because of it… you should see him argue with our other brother Jason, pretty funny actually when he confuses Jason with big words but anyways, we have a very… close family and we all take part in raising Damian so whatever you have to say to Bruce you can say to me too," Dick tells you.

Damn was he charming.

"Okay well have a seat then," you say.

You guys ended up talking for over an hour which consisted a lot of Dick telling you about their crazy family antics making you laugh harder than you had in a long time.

"This is probably really weird to ask but would you like to get dinner with me sometime Mr. Y/L/N?" He asks boldly with a smile you just couldn't say no to.

"I usually have a no dating my students parents policy but since you aren't a parent… I would love to and please call me Y/N," you smile back at him.

"It's a date Y/N," he says happily.

After a few dates you became officially boyfriends but you decided it was best to keep your relationship with Dick a secret until it got more serious.

Though Jason found out a month in because he has a habit of going through Dicks phone to annoy his older brother and stumbled upon some flirty texts between you two.

After six months you and Dick agreed it was time to tell his family so Dick set up a dinner telling them he would be introducing them to his new boyfriend.

Jason was particularly excited to see Damian's reaction and of course he started filming when there was a knock at the door

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my boyfriend… Y/N," Dick says cheerfully.

"Richard! You're dating my teacher!" Damian shouts.

Tim chuckles and whispers to Stephanie, "guess we're getting a dinner and a show."

The entire dinner Damian was glaring at Dick while the others were trying to get to know you.

"So Y/N how long have you been a teacher?" Barbara asks.

"This is only my second year teaching," you reply.

"How fun, you get to deal with a problem child like Damian early on in your career," Jason teases.

"Damian certainly isn't a problem he just doesn't exactly like to socialize with the other kids," you say wanting to assure Bruce you didn't think negatively of his son.

"Because they are learning basic algebra I already know advanced Calculus," Damian scoffs.

"Bruce, have you ever considered enrolling Damian in the gifted program?" You ask.

"I have but Damian can learn whatever he wants at home but the only way for him to spend time with kids his own age is at school," Bruce explains.

"Plus if Damian had been in the gifted program I never would have met you," Dick says leaning in and kissing you sweetly.

Damian rolls his eyes while Cass and Duke aw at how cute you and Dick are.

At the end of the dinner Dick walks you out to your car.

"I hope my family didn't scare you off," he jokes.

"Your family is great Dick, I just don't want to make things awkward with Damian at school," you tell him.

"Damian will get over it he always does and besides the school year is almost over in a few months you won't even be his teacher anymore," Dick says.

"Well… they are actually thinking of bumping me up a grade next year so there's a chance I'll have him again in the fall," you chuckle.

"I'll talk to him, promise," Dick laughs kissing you goodnight before you get in your car and drive off.

Dick heads up to Damians room where he finds him throwing daggers into a target on the wall.

"Okay Damian be honest with me, do you actually have a problem with me dating your teacher," Dick questions.

"Of course not, I actually like Mr. Y/L/N, he's far better than my teacher last year," Damian replies.

"So then why were you giving me the death glare all night?" Dick says confused.

"Because Richard, what if you screw things up and I can't go to his after school extra credit study sessions anymore, I consider those people acquaintances and some of them are even intelligent," Damian states.

"Hold on, why do you assume I would be the one to screw things up? You know what, not the point, anyways, if for whatever reason Y/N and I were to break up we would never let it affect you or your education. Most of your future teachers are not going to be as understanding of you as Y/N is so we gotta take advantage of a good teacher while we can," Dick jokes.

"Good. Do not break his heart Richard," Damian says throwing a dagger past Dicks ear and into the target behind him which doesn't even phase Dick.

"Again why am I bad guy in this hypothetical situation??" Dick huffs.

"You have a good talk boys?" Jason says strutting into Damians room.

"Jason you have got to stop snooping," Dick sighs.

"How else am I supposed to know about my brother's secret boyfriends before everyone else," Jason grins.

"Wait you knew Richard was dating my teacher this whole time?" Damian huffs.

"Gotta go… patrol stuff," Jason says awkwardly exiting the room.

Well at least Dick would be happy to report to you that Damian approved of your relationship.

[writing-ca-ira]

QUICK! DISTRACTION!

YJ Tim Drake + Reader x Dick Grayson

The mission goes slightly awry, and as a senior member, it’s up to you to keep Tim calm with a distraction… which kinda comes at the expense of Dick’s pride.

I’ve been thinking of starting a strictly platonic relationship blog. Let me know if you’re interested.

The reader is gender neutral.

Contains: landslide, Jaime gets concussed, getting stuck in a cave, anxious Tim, lowkey autism-coded Tim, Dick shows up at the end, it’s up to you if Dick and the reader are romantically involved, senior member reader, Tim and Jaime are basically reader’s children.

Tim was always hard on himself. Whether it was his training as Robin (Batman’s sidekick), his tiring life as Timothy Drake (the heir of Drake Industries), or even his downtime with friends as just plain Tim (a socially awkward teenager), he always found some way to critique himself; to tear himself down by over-analyzing all his mistakes — no matter how big or small — and replay them in his mind over and over and over again. He’d always promise himself that he’d do better, despite the fact that “better” usually meant a flawlessly inhuman performance with no mistakes whatsoever.

So, you knew better than to hope Tim wasn’t mentally beating himself over the head because of your current situation.

Sometimes, the bad guys can be unpredictable (an unfortunate fact you learned quite quickly on this team). They can throw in a wild card that not even your most skilled strategist could’ve factored in before the mission, which changes everyone’s plan of action completely. And, on this mission, no one could’ve foreseen the well-hidden pressure plate in the dark and vast cave’s muddy ground, or the explosion system rigged up to it, or the landslide from the big boom that blocked off the cave’s entrance. It’s illogical to think this could’ve been predicted, or even avoided.

Of course, Tim thought otherwise. As he paced back and forth in front of where you were you with Jaime’s unconscious body, you unhappily wondered what he could possibly be blaming himself for. Maybe that he didn’t magically see the disguised explosives attached to the high cave walls, or the pressure plate that was basically invisible no matter how long you stared at it, or that he couldn’t warn you guys about the explosion 10 seconds before it even happened? All ridiculous thoughts, but the boy had a knack for making his very logical brain conjure up very illogical things.

Doesn’t help that Blue got completely KO’ed, you mentally noted, sparing a glance at the unconscious hero, whose head was gently propped against your thigh. Physically, he was probably unscathed; that beetle armor could take hits from a Kryptonian without cracking. But armor can’t exactly prevent your brain from hitting against your skull, which is what you deduced happened to Jaime after pulling him out from under a giant chunk of debris. The scarab de-armored, much to your unease, and you found yourself hoping it was the scarab’s way of letting you two check its host over (maybe the scarab isn’t as uncaring as Blue makes it out to be). At least you felt better when you saw that Jaime was, in fact, unscathed.

After examining Jaime, you tried your best to comfort Tim, saying that Blue would bounce back with only a minor concussion when this is all over; a mistake on your part. You should’ve known that mentioning a concussion would make your poor baby bird go pale, his hands trembling at his sides as he started to mumble incoherent things to himself. Any thought to backtrack was halted as he started to pace, and you decided it was best to leave him alone for a couple of minutes just so he could calm down.

Well, it’s been 10 minutes. And he didn’t look any calmer. Without the ability to radio Dick, you realized you would have to be Sibling-wing.

“Tim,” you softly called, trying your best not to spook the boy. A grimace tugged at the corners of your mouth when his shoulders jolted at your voice, but it quickly disappeared as soon as he hesitantly turned his head in your general direction. He was avoiding your eyes… not a good sign…

You tried your best to make your tone sound light, with a hint of jovial teasing, despite the situation you two were in. “Why don’t you sit down for a bit? You’re gonna pace a trench in the ground if you keep at that.”

The whites of Tim’s mask widened as he looked at the ground beneath his now stationary feet. Before you could worry that you made another mistake, he seemed to understand that you were just exaggerating, a long yet shaky breath escaping from his lips. All he did was mumble out a small sorry, and you had to fight the urge to frown; if he saw any hint of negativity on your face, he would probably break down entirely, and that’s the last thing you want.

“Here.” You patted the vacant spot next to you (the one obviously not occupied by Jaime). He owlishly blinked at the area before looking you in the eyes for the first time since the explosion. Progress was being made, but you weren’t too keen on the unsure look he was giving you, so you continued. “Sit next to me, Timmers. I need some company.” A pause. “But only if you feel comfortable. I don’t want to force you, bud.”

For a few moments, he stood completely still in his spot. Hope of him accepting your offer was quickly leaving your body, replaced with the nervous feeling that you may have overstepped some boundaries, but your worries were over when he finally shuffled over towards you. Tim was a small thing — probably smaller than what he should be as a teenage boy — so he took up little to no space next to your side. It might’ve been cute to see him curled up against you, his knees tightly held against his chest and his cape swaddled around him, if he didn’t look so close to having a meltdown over everything.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly squeaked out, and you thought you imagined it before he continued. “I’m sorry about all of this. I… I knew it was a bad thing that there were no guards—!!”

“Timmy,” you began, soft so he knew you weren’t mad yet firm enough that he would stop his rambling, “you have nothing to be sorry for. These things happen all the time on missions. No one could’ve seen this coming.”

Tim looked down at his knees. “… I could’ve—”

“No.” You gently wrapped an arm around his shoulder (something you noticed Dick does when he’s comforting the baby bird) and gently rubbed his upper arm. “From the moment we dispatched to the moment we got here, you did everything perfectly.”

You decided to gauge his reaction before saying anything further. He seemed lost in thought again, though you knew he was listening from the way he spared you a quick glance. His fingers were rhythmically strumming against his leg as he chewed the inside of his cheek. Still nervous, but at least he seemed to be considering your words.

“Supes and Dick will come get us in a little while,” you reassured him, pulling him closer into your side to accentuate your statement. “As soon as it’s past 10, they’ll come by in the Bioship and see we’re a bit stuck, and we’ll be out in no time, and Blue’ll get help.”

Mentioning Jaime was a bad idea. The tension that was slowly leaving Tim’s shoulders returned with a vengeance, and while he anxiously stared at his teammate, you bit back the urge to curse. Not good, you groaned in your mind, wanting to kick yourself in the teeth for yet another mistake. But you couldn’t spend too much time thinking about it. Not with Tim’s breaths picking up.

After doing a quick scan on Jaime (thankfully still breathing, so there’s the Are-My-Kids-Okay bare minimum), you playfully nudged at the Boy Wonder’s side to get him to look at you. “Y’know why I know help will be on the way?”

Tim quirked an unsure brow.

Guess he thought it was rhetorical, you noted mentally. Not exactly a bad thing; you could work with this. “Because you were the one who said to rendezvous at 10,” you answered, an encouraging smile on your lips.

At this, Tim seemed to relax a bit. He didn’t look any happier than before, but even the smallest victory was a victory nonetheless. The moment was almost ruined when he quietly responded with, “it’s just basic mission protocol...”

“Not all the time,” you countered. “The thought of a rendezvous didn’t cross any of our minds until you brought it up.” You made sure that he could see your proud smile. “And it was a good idea Timmy. A good idea that you came up with. We could be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time if it wasn’t for you.”

Though he sheepishly looked at the ground, you could tell he felt much better than before. The strumming of his fingers against his leg was slowing down, and he stopped chewing the inside of his cheek entirely. You could even see how his body language loosened up. All good signs, but you didn’t know how long this small moment of tranquility would last; you could see the gears turning in Tim’s head, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he found something to chastise himself with.

Luckily, a brilliant idea came to you in the form of a distant memory (a voice that sounded awfully familiar to Wally’s when Kaldur almost walked into his surprise party before everyone was done decorating The Cave);

Quick! Distraction!

“Dick once threw gasoline at a fire thinking it was water,” you unceremoniously blurted out.

Whatever thoughts that were running through Tim’s head came to a complete halt. His mouth parted to say something, but then sealed shut, and then his hand stilled against his leg. Then, after a long stretch of silence, he finally came up with a response.

“… What?”

“It was in Tuvalu,” you continued to explain. “Back when he was still Robin. Some grass was on fire after a fight with Red Volcano, so he decided to put it out. But he picked up a bucket of gasoline by accident and made it worse.” A fond smile found purchase on your face as you recalled the memory. “Never seen him drop a bucket so fast. Or heard him yelp that loud.”

Tim didn’t seem to know what to say for a couple of seconds. “Wha… how do you mistake gasoline for water…?”

“It was just a bucket,” you shrugged. “Of gasoline. To be fair, that’s kinda weird.”

“… Yeah,” he agreed. “I guess it is.”

Before a thick blanket of silence could settle between the two of you again, you decided to keep going with the steam you had. “He also once punched himself in the face.”

Tim sputtered. “How?!”

You chuckled at the younger hero’s incredulous state. “He had his fist up like he was gonna fake punch me, then Superboy jumped out of the Bioship and scared him. Probably the highlight of that mission, honestly. It was a slow night.”

“Didn’t know it was possible to scare him,” Tim mused to himself with slight disbelief.

“Oh, it definitely is.” You found yourself subconsciously pulling Tim closer while carding your fingers through Jaime’s hair. “I’ve managed to sneak up on him so many times. Back when he was Robin and present day. See, the trick is to take advantage of his extremely short attention span.”

“So…” he hesitated, “you’ve noticed it, too?”

Another chuckle left your lips, this time louder and more heartier than the last. “I’ve been stuck with that jerk since I joined this team. Of course I’ve noticed. Can’t focus on one thing for more than a minute to save his life.” Another delightful memory resurfaced, and you could feel your face light up. “Oh! Which reminds me of the time he burnt my birthday breakfast because he was too busy trying to copy that one dance from a Chicken Whizee commercial.”

You could hear the slightest giggle come from Tim. “He doesn’t even like Chicken Whizee’s!”

“Yeah, but he liked the dance,” was your reply. “Didn’t like it when the smoke detector started going off, though. By the time I was in the kitchen, he was scraping unidentifiable scraps of charcoal into the trash with the saddest expression. I decided to take pity on him and take him out for breakfast instead.” You paused for a moment. “Wanna know where we went?”

Tim offered a giant grin. “Chicken Whizee’s?”

“No wonder Dick calls you the Brainiac Boy Wonder,” you cooed while ruffling his hair.

“He totally does not!”

It was hard to say how long you guys were talking for; you always lost track of time when you told stories of Dick to other people. But it must’ve been a good amount of time, because around halfway through the story of how Dick crashed the Batmobile for the first time, Jaime began to stir on your lap, weakly fluttering his eyes open and closed. You both were relieved to see your teammate conscious again (despite giving him a check-up and realizing that he did, indeed, have a concussion), but your relief was fleeting when Tim started to explain what happened. His shoulders hitched upwards, his hands fiddled with each other from anxiety, his body curled into itself more and more… the cure of his Tim-is-the-worst-according-to-Tim episode was starting to wear off… not good…

So, in the wise words of Wally West;

Quick! Distraction!

“He crashed it a second time, too.”

Tim and Jaime looked up at you with curious looks. Jaime’s was less curiousness and more confusion (though you couldn’t tell if it’s from confusion of not being there for the previous conversation or general concussion confusion), and he groggily let out a small, “who?”

“Di—aAAat dude, Nightwing.” Before Tim could even process your small fumble, you quickly continued. “He crashed the Batmobile. Twice.” You then stuck up three fingers. “Three times, actually. Though the third time wasn’t his fault.”

Jaime carefully quirked his head to the side. “Nightwing crashed the Batmobile…?”

After letting Tim recount the first time Dick took the Batmobile out for a joyride (just to catch Jaime up), you continued on with the second time it happened, then finished off with the third (you left the part out where it was technically your fault). Tim let out a real, genuine laugh about 4 times (yes, you kept count), while Jaime found himself growing more and more shocked at each detail. Poor guy couldn’t process that Nightwing — the intimidating and mature leader — was actually just a giant loser. The trilogy of Batmobile stories evolved into the thrilling saga that was Dick’s fridge issues (which you solved by finding out the fridge was unplugged), then into the time he got stuck in the ventilation system of S.T.A.R.R. Labs (you remember his explanation being, “I fitted last time,” despite the “last time” being 3 years prior).

Unfortunately, before you could tell the story of Dick breaking Wally’s souvenir shelf, the sounds of rocks being pulled away from the cave’s entrance made you all flinch.

“Oh, yeah,” you simply said. “I totally forgot about the mission.”

“And the rendezvous time,” Tim admitted as he pulled away from your side.

“And my concussion,” Jaime groaned as he rested his head against your arm.

Enough rocks were moved that you could see Dick and Connor working together to free you guys. As comfortable as you were with your junior members, you practically lost all feeling in your legs, and it was definitely a good idea to get out of this cave. Tim stood up first to offer Jaime a hand. You spotted the concussed kid as he shakily got to his feet with Tim’s help, then stood up right after him. By the time Dick and Connor completely cleared the way (Connor doing most of the muscle work), all three of you were waiting patiently.

“Hey,” Tim casually chirped.

Dick, however, seemed to completely ignore the greeting. “Are you guys alright?! When you didn’t show up at the rendezvous, we thought something bad happened…!”

“We’re good,” you answered, a hand behind Jaime’s back to keep in steady. Well, speaking of Jaime… “Blue got a concussion, but other than that, we’re good.”

“A concussion,” Connor echoed, brows furrowed. “Is that why you’re de-armored?”

“Yeah.” Jaime’s tone didn’t sound all that pleased. “Scarab said that… in the event that I were to be deceased… it wants to be ready to find the nearest candidate to be its host.”

… Guess that scarab really IS cold-hearted.

Getting Jaime settled into the Bioship was easy enough. Connor gave him one last concussion test before talking about his own concussion experiences, and you soon recognized it as a tactic to keep Jaime awake. Meanwhile, Tim’s cheeks were a blotchy pink from Dick’s kind praises, his older brother gushing over how well Tim did this mission (and everything that was said was true; Tim was the MVP in your eyes). As a hug was shared between the two, Dick offered you a soft smile, which you gladly returned. Thank you, he mouthed, and you couldn’t help but let your smile grow at that.

Just as you were about to join Dick’s side, however, Tim shot his brother a questioning look. “You tried to put out a fire with gasoline?”

The smile on your face dropped, with Dick’s face seemed mirroring yours. The only difference was that, while his eyes squinted in confusion, yours widened in realization. A quizzical hum left Dick’s lips, and before you could scramble to interject, Tim continued. “And you punched yourself? Oh, also, do you still remember that Chicken Whizee’s dance? I wanna see it.”

You felt your heart drop in your chest as Dick slowly looked back up at you. It didn’t take long for him to put together the pieces, a deadly glare being shot your way. All you could do was helplessly look away, hoping that maybe Jaime or Connor would come to your rescue.

Well, it became evident that your hero wasn’t going to be Jaime. “We heard you crashed the Batmobile three times,” he called out, soft enough that it wouldn’t hurt his head but loud enough that Dick would hear it.

Connor’s brow raised in interest at this comment (so he also wasn’t going to be your hero). “Three times?”

“Two times,” Dick bitterly corrected, his gaze still on you. “I don’t think our dear friend (H/N) told the story right.” His face then broke out in a wicked grin. “Well, good thing I’m willing to set the record straight. Right, (H/N)?”

… Now would be a really good time for a distraction, wouldn’t it?

[ugh-yoongi]

ho ho horrible | jhs

(or, the one where your neighbor is a relentless christmas caroler and refuses to take a hint, but at least he's really hot.)

❆ pairing: hoseok x f. reader ❆ genre(s): neighbor au, holiday au, one-sided e2l | humor, fluff, smut ❆ rating: explicit. minors dni. ❆ warnings: vague non-korean setting. christmas. reader has a one-sided beef with hoseok's caroling and is extremely awkward. taehyung is here and he's weird, idk. there is smut in this but it is not super explicit and mostly flowery, so if ur only reading for that part i wouldn't bother. however, smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. & m. receiving), hobi touches himself. this was mostly an excuse to write both a hobi & a holiday fic. ❆ word count: 5.2k ❆ thank you: bee / @hot-soop, for beta'ing this for me and saying "oh shit this got real fast" and making me wheeze. thank u love u. ❆ a/n: idk. like i said, this was just an excuse to write a christmas fic before christmas. riding fakie kicked my ass and took me 500 years and i banged this out in, like, two sittings. the universe can be so cruel. that said, i probably won't be around much between now & new years day, so if you celebrate christmas i hope you all have a wonderful one. happy holidays, happy new year, cheers to 2023. ♡

Christmas has threatened to break you before.

That one Christmas where your parents had sworn up and down was just going to be the three of you, only to tell you at the last minute your entire extended family was coming for dinner and gifts, and then your horrible little gremlin of a cousin flung mashed potatoes into your hair and pushed you down the stairs and broke your arm? Your parents never invited them again, but yeah, you’d come dangerously close to an aneurysm that year.

Not to mention the first Christmas in your first apartment. You’d been running late, scotch tape and ribbon stuck in places they had no business being stuck in, and your phone was vibrating relentlessly in your purse as you waddled to the elevator, gift pile threatening to tumble over, and it was fine. You were going to make it to your car in one piece. Make it to your parents’ on time. Eat enough food to have you popping the button on your pants, and then compound the issue with dessert, and your cousins were going to be celebrating in their corner of hell rather than with you. Everything was going to be merry and festive and bright.

And then the elevator broke down and you were stuck in there for over two hours.

All that to say—you and Christmas have a sordid history, so you’re no stranger to yuletide stress. You’re stronger than this, forged in the flames of failed holidays past, and you’ve put that biological adaptability to use and soldiered on. This Christmas will not break you, but it’s certainly trying its fucking best.

“You look tired.”

Your gaze snaps up and to the left, where noted office menace Kim Taehyung is staring down at you over the ledge of your cubicle wall. He’s dyed his hair an offensive shade of red in an effort to win the department-wide holiday cheer contest. For the third year in a row. No one else even bothers to participate anymore. “I’m fine,” you answer, jaw clenched. You like Taehyung, but you haven’t had a proper night’s rest in almost a week. Not since—

“Why not?” he asks, genuinely curious and concerned and unaware of social norms. “Were you up late watching Home Alone? That’s relatable, honestly. I’ve seen it a hundred times and still can’t help but watch it every time it’s on. The sequel, too. I can’t decide which one I like better. The original’s a classic, but I love Tim Curry, so it’s hard to choose…”

You suck in a breath. Exhale and count to five, because you like Taehyung and don’t want to hurt his feelings, but—“No, I wasn’t watching Home Alone.”

“Oh. Why, then?”

A quick glance at your computer tells you it’s almost one o’clock. “Tell you over lunch?”

Sometimes you can’t believe your luck.

Because the universe is fair and just, the torture of Christmas is cancelled out by the ease of homeownership. As soon as you’d announced your intent to buy a house, everyone came crawling out of the woodwork with tips and this one weird trick! and horror stories about realtors, mortgage and insurance companies, god-awful sellers. You’d been spooked. Almost called the whole thing off to spend another year renting until you felt confident enough to go up against those stressors, but it… hadn’t gone like that.

It’d really been as simple as: get approved for mortgage, see house online, tour house, put in offer, sign a ton of paperwork, move in. Easy peasy; you couldn’t figure out why everyone had been complaining. You’d gotten your dream house in your dream location, quiet side street in a desirable part of the city, for under your max budget. The neighbor on your right baked you cookies to welcome you to the neighborhood. The house on the left had been home to a nice couple with a young kid until they decided to relocate to the suburbs, and it’d been empty for a while until—

“Your neighbor is a caroler?”

You nod, shoulders sagging as you spear your salad far too violently, and all Taehyung can do is grimace. No shit, you think, taking in his pained expression, try living next door to him. “A caroler,” you confirm.

Taehyung whistles low as he sinks into the booth, vinyl creaking under his weight. “Does he wear the little hat and everything?”

You pause, fork halfway to your mouth. “No, just normal clothes, I think.”

“Bummer.” He pouts. “I like the little hats. Wait, what do you mean I think?”

“I mean I think,” you reiterate. “As in I don’t actually know, because I shut off all the lights and pretend I’m not home every time they knock on my door.”

Taehyung gasps, really selling that you’ve mortally wounded him with this piece of information, and you think it might be a little overdramatic. So what if you don’t answer the door? You’re a young, single woman who lives alone and has listened to true crime podcasts—of course you don’t answer the door. You don’t answer it for anyone!

“How could you?” Taehyung accuses, which prompts an eye roll from you.

“I’m a young, single woman who lives alone and has listened to true crime podcasts—”

“Which are exploitative and capitalize on suffering and paranoia, not to mention are usually nothing more than free PR for cops—”

“Well, I don’t listen to them anymore!” Taehyung seems appeased by this, so you continue. “My point is: I don’t answer the door for anyone. Not delivery people, not the Mormons, definitely not the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and not Christmas carolers. It’s nothing personal.”

Your coworker quirks an eyebrow. “Except it is.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Taehyung hums. He’d ordered a sandwich the size of his head and has barely put a dent in it, so you’re going to be here awhile. “Have you tried asking them to not carol in front of your house?”

“I don’t think it matters,” you concede, frown deep and unattractive. Are you being dramatic? It feels like you’re being dramatic, but you’ve already committed to the bit. “They stay on the sidewalk and that’s public property. Didn’t stop those shitty campaign people from sticking the signs in that little strip of grass last month.”

“Ugh, I forgot about that guy. At least he lost.”

“Amen, brother.”

Taehyung scrunches his nose. “Yeah, maybe don’t say that ever again.” Fair. You nod. “Hm. You think one of those ‘no solicitation’ signs would work?”

“Is Christmas caroling considered solicitation?”

Half of the turkey slides off Taehyung’s sandwich when he picks it up, bread gone soggy under the weight of mayonnaise and time, and you reckon now’s as good a time as any to find out.

What you lack in competent cousins and considerate neighbors you make up for in friends.

Friends in high places, specifically. Friends you can call in emergencies, which is why you’re locked in your bathroom, phone trembling against your ear, as the muted sounds of caroling trickle in from the street. You’re nearly in its grasp, which is why you’ve had to act quick: lights off, military crawl along the floor, pick a room with no street-side exterior windows.

Seokjin sighs. “Taehyung said you were being overdramatic about this. I should’ve listened.”

“Listened to what?” You roll your eyes. “I’m not asking you to break me out of my house. I simply called to ask you, an actual lawyer, a person who knows the law, if Christmas caroling is illegal.”

“You do need a permit in some places, yes—”

“A-ha!”

“—but this is not one of them. Your annoying neighbor is free to Christmas carol to his heart’s content.”

A groan escapes you, and you pull your phone away from your face to check the date. December 11th. Just two more weeks, and then you’re free for an entire year. Surely you can make it two weeks, right? A fortnight. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours. Once you’re past the holiday and things cool off, maybe you’ll borrow a play from your normal neighbor’s book and drop off please stop harassing me with your Christmas carols cookies.

You’re halfway to deciding which flavor (M&M, because they can kind of look like miniature carolers if you squint, or oatmeal raisin because they’re disgusting and you want him to suffer a little) when the troupe starts on a new song. A louder one. Enough of a volume change that even Seokjin can hear it, and he starts doing that honking windshield wiper laugh at your expense.

Fuck cookies. You should really burn his house down instead.

Big cities aren’t actually all that big.

Your mother says she’s finally sick of cooking, so you’ve been tasked with bringing side dishes to Christmas dinner this year. Which is fine. Learning how to cook for yourself had been relatively easy, to the point you’d run a Learn to Cook 101 weekly lesson at your on-campus apartment for all your hopeless friends. And hopeless friends of friends. In return, they taught you how to roll joints and do keg stands, so it’d been a worthy trade-off.

Still.

Your parents are woefully behind on current food trends, so your comment about bringing a sushi bake as an appetizer had been met with incredulous silence. Sushi isn’t high on your parents’ takeout list, and after you’d taken them to the nice hibachi restaurant in town and your father ate his California roll with a fork, you’d been too embarrassed to try again.

Anyway—the point is: big cities aren’t that big, because you’re standing in the seafood section of the largest supermarket within fifteen square miles, and everything promptly goes to shit.

“Hey, do you know if they ha—oh, shit, hey! You’re my neighbor!”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Do a really good impression of that meme gif of the guy blinking. Because this can’t be happening. You specifically go to this supermarket because it’s not the one around the corner from your house and also isn’t the one closest to your office. No one was supposed to be able to find you here, yet here’s your caroling neighbor, bundled up tight with a beanie shoved over his head, tips of his ears folded over so he looks like a little elf. It’s sick.

But you’re a professional, if nothing else (you’d argue mature, but can concede that hiding in your own home with the lights turned off to avoid the man grinning at you is not very girl-boss of you), so you offer him a tight-lipped smile. “Hi. I am your neighbor, yes. Hello.”

“Wow, what a coincidence, huh?” He laughs, and it sounds like Christmas bells. Who in the fuck is this guy? No, really, who is he? You can’t remember his name for the life of you. “You… have no idea who I am, do you?”

It’s the way his face falls further with each word. Makes you feel guilty and awful, and it’s a terrible feeling. Has you wanting to say things like no, of course I know who you are and drop his name, his parents’ names, ask him about that work thing, that person he’d mentioned he was seeing in passing. But you know none of these things, so you just suck in a breath and say the first thing that comes to mind, which is: “Of course I know who you are.” You feel your eyes narrow. “You’re my annoying caroler neighbor.”

That was… not what you were going for. You should apologize, try to find some way to salvage this, because you’re only here for salmon and imitation crab and now you’ve dug yourself a hole that’ll ensure your great-great-grandchildren are still feuding.

But he just laughs. Snaps his fingers and points at you in a way that’s jokingly serious as he says, “I knew it! I knew you’ve been home this whole time!”

Suddenly you aren’t feeling so apologetic anymore. “And you’ve persisted? Did you ever stop to think I didn’t want to be bothered?”

The answer to your question is no, judging by the look on his face. All-knowing you are not, so you’re not going to waste time decoding it when all you came here for was salmon and imitation crab. You really should’ve gone to the Asian supermarket instead, because a place like this is highly unlikely to have furikake, anyway, and you could’ve avoided this entire mess. Now you’re engaged in an awkward stare-off with your neighbor, and the two of you are going to part ways and still have to live next to one another.

“Oh, I—”

The butcher calls your number. You should’ve bought the prepackaged stuff in the freezer, but no, you had to be bougie and difficult. “It’s fine,” you say, holding your hand up. Just the imitation crab left now, you can do this. “Happy holidays. Please leave me alone.”

You are never making sushi bake again.

On a normal evening, the caroling would start just after seven.

This explains why you’re currently lying in bed, the only light from the television (Taehyung be damned, you are watching Home Alone), full of nervous jitters as the clock on your phone tells you it’s just turned 6:59.

Is your neighbor the vengeful type? Will you finally be granted reprieve now that you’ve had an embarrassing supermarket encounter, or will he tell his caroling troupe to sing as loud as possible to provoke you further? You shake your head. Sure, you’d only talked to him for three minutes, but his ears were folded over, for fuck’s sake—maybe you’re naive, but someone with folded-over ears doesn’t strike you as particularly malicious.

No, no, it’s going to be fine; you’re certain of it. You’ll deal with the embarrassment later.

Except ten minutes pass with… nothing. No muted singing, no perfectly-pitched renditions of Oh Holy Night (which you’ll admit was actually enjoyable), no hushed giggles when someone inevitably sang the wrong word. There’s just silence, and it’s exactly what you’d asked for, but it still feels off-putting after suffering through the opposite for so long. Instead, your doorbell rings at half-past, and this is it, you think, my neighbor’s going to be out there with a bomb.

Unsurprisingly, it’s not a bomb. There’s nothing on your front steps except a little gift basket—homemade, judging from the wrap job. A peek through the clear cellophane tells you there’s a bottle of wine and some cookies in there, and there’s a note card stapled to the front that tells you it’s from your neighbor.

Sorry about the noise. Didn’t mean to bother you. Hope this makes up for it. — Hoseok

You grumble all the way back to your bedroom, only a brief pit stop in the kitchen for a wine glass. Homemade or not, Hoseok had spared no expense on the cookies: double chocolate chip, salted caramel, snickerdoodle, little spritz trees topped with nonpareils. You grumble again as you pluck out a gingerbread man. To your dismay, it’s delicious.

You overpour the wine—red, which’ll give you a headache, but you’re past the point of caring. There’d been a little bow tied around the stem. It’s horribly endearing and gives you a stomach cramp. On the screen, Marv takes an iron to the face. This feels a little like that.

“You should return the favor,” Taehyung suggests. The two of you are back at the same deli. He’s working on some kind of vegetable sandwich this time, having abandoned turkey after his last one had been such a mess. “It’s the polite thing to do. Squash the beef.”

You wait a second. One, two, thr—“Ha, squash!” He picks something yellow off his bread. “Get it?”

“Yep.”

He sighs, underwhelmed by your reaction. “You catch Home Alone last night?”

“I did, actually.”

“Cool.” He heaves another sigh, slumps further back in the booth. “God, this time of year is so boring. Work is dead, your neighbor ended your one-sided caroling turf war, and Tim Allen is a shitty conservative, so I can’t even enjoy The Santa Clause anymore.”

You can’t help yourself: “Didn’t you just say the other day that you loved that guy?”

“Tim Allen?” Taehyung looks confused. Also looks a little concerned, like there’d be something severely wrong with him if he had said that, but then he comes to. Glares. “I said Tim Curry! Tim Curry. You know, Dr. Frank-N-Furter? The guy from Clue? Ew, don’t you dare confuse them ever again!”

It should be a crime, how easy it is to provoke him. He’s off on a tirade before you have a chance to tell him you were fucking around, and by the time you’re back at your desk you’re absolutely certain you could write a biography on the guy.

Taehyung had been right about one thing, though: there’s absolutely nothing going on. Everyone has collectively abandoned the illusion of working and aren’t likely to pick it back up until after the new year, so you’ve got nothing to do but scroll endlessly on the internet and spin in your chair until you feel sick.

Maybe you’ll resume the turf war just for something to do.

“Your father says not to bother with the sushi bake,” your mother says. “He thinks it’s too weird.”

Your jaw drops, eyes glancing at the pile of ingredients on your counter. What are you gonna do with all this stuff? How long does imitation crab stay good for? “Are you serious?” A distracted hum comes through the phone. “What am I supposed to do with all these ingredients, then? Can’t he just suck it up?”

She tuts. Years of putting up with and accommodating your father’s pathetic palate tells you she’s probably on your side, but she’s not going to admit it. “I don’t know, honey. It’s the holidays. Can’t you bring it into work?”

“Mom.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Do you know what happens to people who bring fish into the office?”

“Well, I don’t know! Give some to your friends! Have leftovers!”

None of your friends want a sushi bake. You don’t even have to ask. They’d accept it out of politeness only, but you can almost guarantee it’ll either get tossed or brought along to their own holiday parties. Oh, no, I didn’t make this, they’ll say. It’s from a friend, but I wasn’t going to finish it all on my own, so here it is! That’s mortifying and you won’t allow it.

“Didn’t you say your neighbor brought you some cookies? Maybe you can return the favor.”

You’re lucky your mother can’t see you roll your eyes, because what a traitor. Taehyung suggesting the same thing had made sense. He’s never had a sense of loyalty. Wouldn’t know it if it came up and bit him in the ass, but your mother? The same mother that heard your complaints about this same neighbor and commiserated with you? She has one thing, and it’s the audacity.

But you aren’t going to argue with her. “Ah, yeah,” you say, voice laced with faux impression, “great idea. Thanks.”

“Of course, sweetheart. What are moms for?”

Not loyalty, clearly.

Everything has truly come full circle.

Here you are, standing on Hoseok’s front step, fist raised to knock and embarrass yourself by dropping off a fucking sushi bake. Not cookies or chocolates or anything else that could pass as Christmas fare—sushi bake. May God please strike you down.

You wonder if Hoseok will turn all his lights off and pretend to not be home. It’d be justified, and if it weren’t for the shadows of movement through the curtains, you’d just drop it off and go back home. Surely it’s cold enough outside to keep it fresh until he returned from caroling. But no, here you are, waiting for him to answer the door because sushi bake requires an explanation.

“Oh! Hello, neighbor!”

(God is fair, because you were not struck down to spare potential embarrassment, but you have been spared from the little elf ears again. A blessing. There’s no way you’d survive those again.)

“Hi,” you respond, thrusting the casserole dish in his direction, perfectly playing the role of a person who has never once met another human. “It’s sushi bake.”

Hoseok computes for a moment. “Sushi bake,” he repeats, like he’s learning an entirely new concept. What is it with men and sushi bakes? “Wow, cool, thank you.” He takes it from you with a smile, radiating pure sunshine. “That’s dinner sorted, then! Is this what you were at the grocery store for?”

“Uh, yeah.” You fidget, feeling awkward without anything to hold. What are you supposed to do with your hands now? You shove them in your coat pockets. “I was gonna make it to bring to my parents’ for Christmas dinner, and then my mom called today to tell me not to because my dad thinks it’s too weird, so, well. Here I am. Paying you back for the cookies with the worst food gift of all time.”

“I think it’s pretty great,” he answers, another dazzling smile lighting up his face. “You didn’t have to repay me for the cookies, though. I still feel really bad about the noise.”

“I—it’s fine,” you say. “Um, well. Enjoy… that.” You turn to leave, nearly slipping on a patch of ice and braining yourself on the brick step. “Have a great night.”

You think Hoseok asks if you’re alright, maybe mumbles something about needing to re-salt the steps and he’s sorry about that, too, but you’re down the sidewalk and back in your house before he can finish. Embarrassment warms your cheeks, and you wonder when you became incapable of talking to men. You roast Taehyung on a near-daily basis. Something must be terribly wrong.

(“Ooh, this is getting spicy,” Taehyung says, foregoing your cubicle wall to park his ass on your desk entirely. “Picture this: Two star-crossed lovers, unable to be together because of the Holy Caroling War. There’s a feud, they become enemies, and then—”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“No, and don’t interrupt me. Now, where was I?”

“Don’t remember,” you lie, and you resume your task of writing down things Taehyung’s hair reminds you of on sticky notes and adhering them to his body.

Elmo. The uniform jackets of those British guards with the silly hats. The Chicago Bulls mascot. Clifford the Big Red Dog. Cartoon cows. Cinnabar. A crayfish. General Thaddeus Ross aka Red Hulk—

“You’re jealous, I get it,” Taehyung quips, exasperated, as he peels a neon yellow note from his thigh. “Anyway, as I was saying. Are you gonna tell your neighbor you’ve got a big, fat crush on him?”

You don’t bother with a response. Instead, you jot down a giant gaping asshole on another note and stick it to his forehead.)

It becomes a… thing, after the sushi bake.

Hoseok feels guilty accepting your kindness, so he drops off a container of homemade radish kimchi. You feel guilty he’d done that, so you drop off some soup. This is unacceptable, but on and on it goes until you catch him leaving a vibrant poinsettia on your steps.

“What are you doing?” you ask, and you startle him so badly he topples backwards off your stoop, taking the poinsettia with him. Dirt shoots into the air like a cartoon, and it’s a struggle but you contain your laughter just enough to dart over to where he’s lying in a sad little heap on the concrete. “Jesus, are you alright?”

You extend your hand and he’s a little dazed, but he takes it after a second. “Ow. Yeah, I think I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It sounded like you hit your head kind of hard.”

He groans. “Think I hit the trashcan on my way down.”

Gross. “Oh. Okay, I’m going to help you up now.” Once he’s upright, you give him a once-over and deem him physically unharmed. You can’t speak for his ego, but you can imagine it’s bruised. “Do you want some hot chocolate or coffee or anything?”

Hoseok shakes his head, which prompts another pained groan. “No, no, I think I’ve been enough of a bother.”

“I insist,” you insist, because you’ve truly lost all common sense. “It’s the least I can do.”

He looks skeptical. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Besides, we can call it even after, right? Your drink of choice for the poinsettia.”

You learn a lot about Hoseok in the span of an hour.

You learn he’s got a contagious laugh and a smile to match. You learn he’s genuinely kind, which makes you feel like pond scum. You learn that he loved your sushi bake and had even taken a picture of it to send to his mom, who said it looked “very cute,” whatever that means. You learn he’s relatively new to the city and that he works from home, so he’d joined the caroling troupe because he was lonely and wanted to make friends, which makes you feel like whatever’s lower than pond scum.

“Earth scum,” you mutter to yourself, and you say it so quietly Hoseok cocks his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Oh my god.”

You learn his friends call him Hobi and that his family lives in Gwangju, which is why he hasn’t traveled home for the holidays. Couldn’t get the time off, he explains, and says it’s okay because he’s going for his birthday in February. Your girlfriends (of which Taehyung is one) would warn you off an Aquarius man, but you take one look at Hoseok’s golden retriever personality and figure he can’t possibly fit the stereotypes.

Whatever. Who are the stars to tell you who is and isn’t the love of your life?

You learn that he knows all the words to Frozen, that he sings all the songs loudly and without shame and that you don’t mind this kind of singing. Not when it’s in your house. Not really when it’s him. And that kind of unabashed joy—Hoseok so unapologetic about who he is—it… does something to you.

Hoseok is kind and endearing and really fucking hot.

So you also learn what it tastes like when you kiss hot chocolate from the corners of his mouth. How it feels to thread your hands in his hair, the noises he makes when you tug. You learn what it feels like when he digs his fingertips into your hips, hauling you into his lap. How serious he becomes, a flipped switch, how that heart-shaped mouth straightens out and his eyes lose that glimmer, all business.

You learn the husk his voice takes on when he urges you closer. How he’s enthusiastic about consent but doesn’t ask for anything, just directs you how he wants you, says, you like it like this, don’t you, baby. You do.

Some horrible Christmas song plays on the television in the background. There’s no condom, not within arm’s reach, so Hoseok gets you off with his mouth. Throws your leg over his shoulder, tells you how good you taste, and you learn how quickly you can come undone in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing. Then you look down and learn Hoseok’s touching himself, couldn’t wait, he says, and you surprise even yourself when you swat him away and tell him to come in your mouth.

“Oh shit—fuck,” he says, but he’s upright fast, hand still gliding along his slick cock. Salt blooms on your tongue from the precum, but you learn how perfectly he fits in your mouth. You learn he sounds fucking divine when he spills over the edge.

You learn he’s a cuddler, and that you already like him way too much.

It’s Christmas Eve, and everything’s going to go right this time.

You can smell the success in the air, so winter-crisp it stings the inside of your nose. All of your gifts are wrapped to perfection. The roads are clear. No elevators to get stuck in this year, and last you’d seen your cousin was spending the holidays on the opposite side of the country, far away from you, so you’re feeling good. Got a pep in your step.

And then you lock the door behind you and there’s Hoseok, taking out his trash in a plush robe and reindeer slippers. He’s got light-up antlers on his head, and the butterflies in your stomach turn into more of a swarm. The two of you have kept in touch, sure. Made plans to go on a real date after the holiday chaos died down, but it’d been easy to tamper down those feelings when you didn’t have to see him.

“Hello, neighbor,” he says, and it’s Christmas Eve and he’s clearly got nowhere to be, can’t make it to see his family, and he’s still smiling. It makes your chest ache.

“Hi. What are you doing?”

The smile doesn’t falter at all. “Taking out the trash?”

“But it’s Christmas Eve.”

He laughs. The Christmas bells are back. God, you are so fucked. “Ah, yeah, I suppose it is, huh?”

“You don’t have plans?”

He shrugs. “Nope. Well, nothing besides some spiked eggnog and the Christmas Story marathon.”

That sounds nice, you think. “Oh, that sounds nice,” you say, and then the next words out of your mouth come unbidden: “Do you want to come with me? I’m going to my parents’ for dinner, which probably sounds… uh, rushed. And super weird. But it’s really low-key and they’re really nice, and I feel bad leaving you here by yourself and not inviting you. Don’t feel obligated, though! I just thought—”

“Do I have time to change?”

Dumbstruck, you just nod. Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and disappears inside his house, reemerging five minutes later dressed impeccably. Your mother’s going to swoon, and even though she’s not going to see it because she never checks her phone, you send her and your father a warning text. Bringing my neighbor, don’t ask, set up another spot at the table.

Just like you’d thought, your mother is overjoyed. You’ve only ever brought one person home for Christmas and that was back in college. A fling, called off before Valentine’s Day, so she’s been deprived of oohing and ahhing and talking a stranger’s ear off.

Hoseok is polite, a near-perfect guest, and your mother fusses over him while your dad talks about stocks and sports and whatever else. Something about mothers, they’ve always got a pile of emergency gifts stashed somewhere, and while you do the dishes, she dashes off to wrap some just so Hoseok has something to open. A cashmere sweater, a bag of gourmet coffee, some wool socks. This is too much, he insists, but it just makes your mother fuss over him more.

“Wait,” your father says, nearly melted into the couch after eating far too much, “weren’t you gonna bring some sushi thing?” Your jaw drops. Hoseok laughs so hard he’s in tears on the floor. Your mother looks away quickly, guilt clear on her face. A traitor. You’ve always known it.

Christmas has threatened to break you before, but this might be the year it makes you whole.

as always, thank you for reading! my inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. i’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤