#what are you gonna do make another tim joke

[smalltownspacebug]

terfs on twitter are a different breed obviously but terfs on tumblr are like a full on time capsule, like in form, tone and content they’re basically indistinguishable from the worst excesses of 2013 sjw’s before they went out into the real world learned about nuance and optics. it’d be fascinating if it weren’t so laughably pathetic.

[red-phantom-0]

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam pt 2

continuation of this au -> 🍁 , 🍁🍁🍁 , 🍁🍁🍁🍁

- well anyways, so the reader is stuck in this expensive limbo and they're like " uhhhhh so about the fact you've been avoiding paying your taxes for the past five years -" like reader is just trying to be professional .

- Bruce ignores their comment and just gives reader a cheshire smile and is like " Don't worry about that hun right now we just want to spend time with you " like he's just trying to reassure reader and they're just there like ' WHERE IS THE NEAREST TRUSTED ADULT THIS GRANDPA IS WEIRD ???'

- reader is just awkwardly sitting there like 🧍‍♀️ meanwhile damians just staring at them , enamored . So reader just awkwardly goes on their phone and text their secretary to track their location and pick them up because they are creeped tf out.

- Bruce is trying to be smooth by making dad jokes like " simba was moving too slow so I told him to mufasa "and readers just awkwardly laughing because she doesn't want the old man to feel bad .

- it gets worse when he tries using modern slang like " Hey ( reader's name ) you're so sigma today " and literally everyone in the limbo cringes and damian tells his dad to shut up and to stop embrassing them.

- anyways y'all reach the Wayne Mansion and you try to get out of the limbo but damian literally holds onto your hand and is like " allow me the most handsome , incredible , reliable , intelligent , best looking wayne to escort you out " and readers like okay whatever because he's just a little kid what's he gonna do ???

- so yall enter in and reader is escorted to a fancy living room , so reader sits dowm and whips out their laptop - insistent on being professional and wanting to get this over with so they could go home and take a much needed nap .

- " Okay Mr.Wayne ? It's says here you owe $100, billion to the IRS -" reader starts but then Dick and Jason enters in with big smiles . " Hey sis /bro !!" They greeted them but reader looks at them confused like who the hell are these randoms .

- this makes them both sad and sulk that their adorable little sibling wasn't as joyous to see them as they were to them. In comes tim with Alfred, and the reader perks up at Alfred. " Hey Alfred how are you ? didn't know you started to work for a new family !" Reader greets him.

- everyone just sits there in shock like does reader seriously forget about them - like they know they fucked up big time by ignoring /neglecting them but like they didn't recognize their own family??

- Alfred just politely smiles at reader and is like " Mr./Mrs. (Reader's Name ) I am still working for the same family, your adopted family in fact " he clarified. Reader just stares at him in confusion because like they don't ever recall being adopted ?? Like they've been in foster care they're whole life??.

- reader is just awkwardly like " hahaha hahaha nice joke man " and dick literally dramatically falls to floor and starts sobbing about how reader doesn't love them anymore .

- reader is just like ' wtf ' because like dramatic much and also they thought Alfred was their foster parent and they were just living in a big apartment complex w another family they didn't know they were supposed to be adopted siblings .

- tim literally grabs dick by his shirt collar and picks him up . " It's very nice to meet you :> " tim greets reader. Reader responds with a poker face , " uhhh we lived in the same place for 13 years mate it's a bit late to an introduction, yeah ?" reader says with a deadpan tone.

- everyone just looks at each other awkwardly and reader gets a notification from their secretary that they were outside waiting on them . Reader sighs and gets up from the couch and shoves their laptop into their travel bag . " Alright was nice knowing yall but I gotta dip " reader says and begins to walk right out .

- everyone immediately gets up to chase after them , Damian literally clinging onto their leg, and Jason and Bruce was trying to persuade them into staying saying ' its too late to go outside ' , " it's too dangerous ' . Reader just stops and looks at them both like " yeah grandpa it's 4 pm we know it's your bed time " and walks out the mansion.

- reader walks out , boss bitch style into their own expensive sports car not before waving at them and saying " See you later in court when you get arrested for tax evasion Bruce " and with that they drive off.

- the batfam just stands there in shambles because they failed in kidnapping and convincing reader to stay with them.

[cannedinternets]

Yanno, a thing i see a LOT in fics is that the Batfam think Danny is a meta, b/c ghosts don't exist. Which is valid, i mean they ARE a team of detectives with a shitton of wacky themed rogues and, at least on batman's part, a noted distaste for and disbelief in magic and the supernatural.

But bruce and tim have both worked with ghosts directly. (Maybe the others too? fuck there's a LOT of comics and animated series and-) So i think it would be much funnier if they think he's not a ghost, b/c Ghosts Don't Work That Way.

In fact, b/c Communication Is Not The Batman's Strong Suit, I think it's funny if all of them are wrong but for different reasons.

Bruce - has worked with Deadman. You can't see or interact with ghosts without magical outside intervention. Thinks Danny is a magic user who transforms a la Shazam/Captain Marvel.

Dick - Clown trauma? Mind control Trauma? One of your rogues tried to brainwash you to be his son/weapon? Damn kid you're like me if i had it even worse. Thinks Danny is a "regular" kid vigilante with a schtick.

Babs - Well the video evidence she can find deffo lines up with him being a super, but there's a hardcore blackout around his town, he doesn't legally exist, AND any outside info she runs into is usually cutoff by someone (tucker or technus depending), AND he's mentioned cloning. So he's probably a designer "cloned" (ugh dc that's not how cloning works) meta kid that's being taken advantage of by the government and/or cadmus.

Cass - Thinks Danny is a terrible liar (true) who is counting on the refuge in audacity to keep people from realizing what he is (also true). Thinks he's someone who got themed meta powers in a lab accident and is playing up the ghost thing b/c he fights ghosts constantly.

Jason - Glowing green eyes? Ability to manifest green constructs that look like they're made of goo? Constant death jokes? Aww, this dude is just another me but he is also a meta/somehow got anime girl powers out of getting dunked in the lazarus pits.

Tim - worked with Secret. Ghosts can fly, shapeshift, go intangible, teleport, posses people. Thinks phantom is an actual ghost that is possessing/overshadowing Danny, possibly consensually? He's looking into it. Ironically, is the closest to the truth.

Steph - Hasn't seen Danny do anything that the other bats can't do, and HAS seen him work on an engineering project for 16 hours straight. Thinks Danny is something like the bats, either under-powered or completely non-powered and makes up for it with tech and mystique. Also thinks Danny is a great ally in gremlinship.

Duke - his Ghost Sight does NOT play well with ghosts, ironically. Thinks Danny is some sort of eldritch horror with a human guise. He seems cool tho, Duke isn't gonna judge someone based on looks even if they do give him migraines.

Damian - thinks that Danny is a Pit Demon and you are all insane.

Jarro - thinks Danny is a Green Martian. Also thinks Danny is awesome.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny is the Crazy Old Man™️ of Gotham

So, the events of Danny Phantom happened decades ago

Like, Phantom Planet was one of the first instances of Superheroes in HISTORY. Early 1900's, just the Fentons were Insanely Ahead of their Time!

Danny is still a Halfa, but has allowed himself to grow old and live his best life before fully dying so he can accept his Throne in the Infinite Realms. He decides to experience Life in the fullest way possible, partying, drinking, making long lasting friendships that shape the lives of everybody he meets, all that!

Eventually, Danny's Party Life leads him to Gotham. And this place is just amazing!

It has all the comforts of Home, with so much more! He can Party! He can Fight! He can do anything he wants and nobody bats an eye, because a crazy old man getting into a fistfight in the middle of the road is just another Tuesday for Gotham!

He decides to spend the rest of his Mortal Life there. And this is still Early On in the DC Timeline, like, Batman Year 1 is happening Right Now.

He hangs around, befriends the local Homeless Population, and mostly just has the time of his Life! And he takes up the stereotypical Homeless Old Man look because why fight it? That's literally what he's going for!

He also unintentionally sets up a bunch of future events

He teaches Kid!Jason on his to steal Tires as repayment for driving off some muggers with a Baseball Bat (honestly he was looking forward to being mugged, it's a new experience after all)

He pulls Kid!Tim into an Alley after Tim gets caught out at night and gets chased by some Punks. He hides Tim behind a Dumpster and tricks the Punks into mugging him instead (Yay! He finally got mugged!)

He becomes kind of well known as the Old Man who wants to experience everything before he dies. He says as much too, not like he really has a reason to hide it. He just tells people "I want to live my life to the fullest, it don't matter if I live 10 more years or 10 more minutes, I'm gonna experience every second of it!"

He once walked into a Cloud of Fear Gas to see what it was like. Later he said it was a 6/10. "Not the worst thing I've had injected into my body!" He says with no Context.

He traded places with a Hostage during an active Crime Scene because he wanted to know what it's like.

He was once dared to take Batmans Utility Belt by another Homeless Guy as a joke, so he walked up to Batman later that night in full view of everybody else and just asked for his Belt. He gives up after a few minutes, and one guy asked "Why not fight him for it? It's an experience after all.". Danny replys "Nah, I've fought Vigilantes before. It was fun though, gotta say!"

...

This got away from me, but all this to say: Imagine the Bat Families Reaction when they find out "Crazy Old Danny" is PHANTOM. You know, THE FIRST SUPERHERO!

I imagine Constantine is having a stroll though Gotham after finishing up some business with Bruce, and just bumps into a homeless guy by accident.

Later that night:

Batman: Constantine, Why are you calling? Is it to do with the-

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?

Batman: Wait wha-

...

Or imagine they know before Constantine meets him, and it goes instead like this

Constantine: Why the fuck is there a Homeless God in your City?!

Batman: You mean Old Man Danny? He's just a homeless guy? What do you mean?

Constantine: I swear on what's left of my Soul, that is a God.

Batman, a little shit: I don't think so, I would know (fully knows)

[lizzie-boo]

Christmas Party

Steve Harrington x Reader

Ficmas Day 9

Summary: When your best friend Steve overhears you joking with Nancy it changes the course of your friendship forever.

Words: 1.2k

A/N: Happy last day of ficmas. I wanted to write 12 stories but that never happened. Honestly, though, I'm really happy with writing 9 becuase I never intended to do ficmas at all this year. Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Are we sure this is a good idea, what if someone calls the cops?” You ask, still not fully onboard with the idea of throwing a Christmas party. 

“Don’t worry it’s just for our group of friends plus if the cops get called we’re fine. Remember Chief Hopper is Jonathan and Will’s stepdad and he’d never bust them for having a party,” Steve reassures you as he hands you another box of decorations. 

Removing the lid from the box you grab out a couple strands of garland and begin to place them around the living room. Steve follows behind you stringing up lights as he goes. 

“You’re sure we won’t get in trouble?” 

“It’s just a casual Christmas party, not a rager I promise. Plus half the people coming are practically children. It’s just gonna be us hanging out and eating snacks for a few hours.” 

You knew Steve put his old habits behind him years ago but you were always nervous he would revert to his old ways. That this party would snap him back to who he used to be and what would start as an innocent group hang out would spiral into the party of the century. The fears that if he went back to his old ways he would drop you and you would be without a best friend once more rattled around your brain. As his words finally sink in you let your shoulders relax.

“Plus, Dustin is bringing Suzie and I don’t want to scare her off. He seems to really like her so as surrogate mom I need to make a good impression,” Steve jokes and the last of your reservations disappear. 

You continue to joke and talk as you finish putting up the last of the decorations. Every so often stopping to sneak a glance at your best friend wondering if there would ever be a chance for the two of you to be more. 

The doorbell rings right at seven and you make your way to the entryway. You open the door for Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin ushering them in from the cold. Nancy pulls you into a quick hug as Jonathan offers a quiet hello. 

“So where is the dingus?” Robin asks as she wiggles her eyebrows at you. 

Pushing her shoulder lightly you respond, “He’s in the kitchen finishing up getting snacks ready.” 

“I’ll go help him,” Robin announces before rushing off to the kitchen. 

“I’m guessing this means you haven’t talked to him about how you feel yet,” Nancy says as she loops her arm with yours and pulls you into the living room leaving Jonathan to get the door for the kids. 

You take a seat next to her on the couch. “I don’t wanna screw up what we have. He’s my best friend. Why risk losing him when I can just stay his friend forever and at least have him in my life.” 

Nancy pats your arm giving you the same sad look her and Robin use everytime they bring up the topic and you and Steve being something more. You reach out and tap her nose breaking the awkward tension forming. Just then the kids, Jonathan, and Eddie file into the living room taking up all the available seats. 

Glancing over your shoulder you look for any sign of Steve or Robin, wondering what is taking them so long. Turning your attention back to the room you smile at Eddie as he tries to mediate a fight between Lucas and Dustin about what Christmas movie everyone should watch. 

Steve and Robin make their way toward the living room right as Nancy leans over, “Maybe some alone time with Eddie could help you forget about your feelings for Steve,” she jokes. 

“I don’t doubt that, he could probably make me forget my own name,” you joke back, bumping your shoulder into hers and you both laugh. 

Behind you Steve shoves the tray of snacks he’s holding into Robin’s hands and rushes back into the kitchen needing some time to think. Robin takes it in stride and sets it on the coffee table with a loud thud. 

“I think I hurt my wrist carrying the tray. Do you think you can go help Steve with the rest?” Robin asks as she plops down on the couch between you and Nancy. Before you can even answer her and Nancy are already chatting away about something one of the kids said. 

Pushing off the couch you make your way into the kitchen to find Steve with his palms pushed against the countertop. His head hangs and his eyes are screwed shut. The sight of him sends a pang of panic to your chest. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you place a hand on his back. 

“Do you actually wanna fuck Munson?” he bites out as he curls a hand into a fist. 

Your hand drops to your side as quickly as your mouth falls open. You hadn’t realized that he heard your joke. If you knew he was standing there you never would have said anything. 

You take a moment to assess the situation before settling on your response, “It was just a dumb joke between me and Nancy. Plus I never said that I wanted to fuck him, just that he would probably be good at it.” 

“So you don’t wanna get under him?” His tone is gentler this time as he turns to look at you. 

“No, never. It was just a joke.” You run a hand along his arm hoping to calm him down so you can head back to the party in the other room. 

His hand reaches out and grabs your free hand holding you in place. “So do you still want to forget about your feelings for me?” His eyes search yours as if he’s trying to figure out what you are going to say. 

“Only if you want me to,” you whisper, now realizing the space between you had lessened. 

He drops your hand, stepping in to cup your cheek. “That’s the last thing I want baby” he mumbles before crashing his lips to yours. Your hands tangle in his hair as your lips move in sync. Taking a step back he presses you into the counter. The cool press against your back sends a shiver down your spine and you tug at his hair in an attempt to deepen the kiss. 

He pulls back and you drop your hands to his shoulders. You both take a moment to catch your breaths. He shoots you a smile before hoisting you onto the counter. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and he wastes no time diving back in for another kiss. 

This time when he pulls away it’s to trail a line of kisses down your neck. He works his way back up and gently nips at your earlobe causing you to let out a moan that you try to muffle with your hand. His lips press against your ear and he whispers, “The only one who is allowed to make you forget your name from now on is me.” You pull him back into another searing kiss completely forgetting about the party in the other room. 

[hunterrrs]

another sidnate love fest on SC ("he could be 50 and i'd still slide over" - said by man who fucked that old man) (plus he loves mitchy SO MUCH and wants to do a timmies commercial with him, sid and marchy causing Trouble)

Q: I was actually gonna ask you, now that you’re the reigning MVP, you used to have to go over to Sid’s gym all summer long. It was the older one, you spent all this money for the new upgraded one. Now that you’re the MVP does he have to come train with you? How does that work?

A: No, no, it doesn’t work like that *laughs* (You’re still getting bullied?) Oh yeah. Still going to his gym. All good. He’s 20 years in the league, so… Yeah. I train with Batheson so I make him come to my gym. He makes me feel better about myself, so… that’s what I do.

Q: What did you say to Sid when he took 8.7, did you know that was coming?

A: Yeah, I mean *laughs* I remember, like, in July I was like, man, you’re not gonna sing for 8.7. Like c’mon. He’s like, ah, I don’t know, we’ll see. It’s so cool though, the legacy he’s leaving. How much money is left on the table and his desire to still win. He’s still taking less to try and get somebody else this year and next year.

Q: As somebody who’s always looked up to him, he’s 37 now, he’s still doing it. That’s gotta not only amaze you but also kinda inspire you a little bit. Does that surprise you that he’s still doing it or not at all, knowing him?

A: Man, you should see this guy in the summer. My workouts are like a joke. The recovery summers I do, and he is just grinding. He just grinds. He loves it, I think. I think it’s also awesome, not that he wouldn’t be motivated having this Four Nations thing, and then the Olympics. So no matter what happens, he’s got two things to look forward to and be dialled in for and I think being the captain of Canada, I can’t imagine the pressure to be at your best. He’s ready. He looks amazing, All the guys on the ice, it’s amazing he’s 37. He doesn’t look 37.  (Because he doesn’t have kids!) *laughs* Must be the key.

Q: Did you actually have a cereal released in 2021 called MacKinnon Crunch?

A: I did. Frosted flakes. I picked the flavour though, I liked that. (Was that right before you got your deal with Tim Hortons, became a server at their restaurant?) That was 2015. (Do they have you do that same thing every summer?) We haven’t done that since then. We’ve always wanted to do one where we get Marchy in there just because we’re Nova Scotians, and he’s being a rat and messing up people’s orders, and we gotta like sit him down and tell him what to do. They haven’t done that yet. Marchy needs to be nicer on the ice to be more marketable.

Q: Would that be your dream line for the Four Nations? Yourself, Sid and Marchand?

A: That would be cool. (You’d play the wing?) Oh yeah. Yeah, I’m ready for the wing. Definitely. McDavid, Sid, one-two punch. And then everyone kinda figures it out. (In a room like that you’d essentially delegate to McDavid?) You’re not putting McDavid on the wing, that’s crazy! I don’t mind right wing, I’ve played wing, I’m comfortable there and I don’t know if those two have ever played wing. I’m sure they could easily figure it out. They’re two of the smartest players ever. But I think to have those two guys a one-two punch and then if I’m third line centre that’s cool, if I’m playing on McDavid’s right.

Should I tell Sid to go to the wing, do you think? (“I’ve been working at your gym all these years. I’m the Ted Lindsay winner and the MVP. I gotta get something out of this relationship.”) Yeah, I think he could be 50 and I’d still slide over. No problem. Being on a Nova Scotia line it would be really cool. I think we’d work well together too. The way Marchy plays he’s just gonna muck, forecheck, and then Sid’s Sid, and I can try to push the pace.

Q: You said you went to Europe this summer…

A: It’s just relaxing. Just get off the grid. I was definitely tempted to go to Worlds last year. Sid was bugging me and Schenner bout it. (Saying what, if you go, I’ll go?) Yeah. So we were all gonna go, but then I was just like man, I just played 105 games, just lost to Dallas. At this point I feel like I’m all in or it’s hard to go over there and like (Skate around and giggle.) It’s just tough.

Q: You skated in the summer with Marner, how’s he looking?

A: He looks awesome. You hear stuff that’s always negative, a lot of the time it’s negative and then you get on the ice with him and you’re like, how can anyone ever be negative about this? That’s why I think for me, I just admire how good he is because people chirp him a lot. Up in Vail he was sick. Him and McDavid were flying around together. It was so fun to watch.

Also, beloved health freak <3

I used to like going to Popeye’s Supplements as a kid with my dad and looking at protein powder and stuff. I don’t know. I’m just into it.

Q: We heard so much about you policing the food in the locker room. Are you still doing that? Are you still going on there, like no sugars, no sweets. Whit said you strangled Lehkonen because he ate a Snickers bar or something. Is that true?

A: Nawww, stop it. That’s not true *laughs* I’m trying to mellow a little bit for sure. I definitely see some shit and I get mad but I try to keep it to myself. I don’t know, you eat what you want but I just think when you’re at the rink, we’re the NHL, you’re a pro athlete, I think it should be healthy and good food. I just think the least you can do as a pro athlete is be in good shape.

[incorrectbatfam]

How about Bruce pranking/embarrassing/making fun of (not in a bad way) the kids as payback for their pranks/jokes?

Dick: I'm going to Wally's.

Bruce: *grunts*

Dick: *leaves*

Bruce: *makes a phone call*

Bruce: Barry, I need you and Wally to come over here for a minute.

———————

Bruce: *pats Tim's back and sticks a barcode*

Tim: What was that for?

Bruce: Just letting you know you're doing a great job, son.

[30 minutes later]

Tim: *wearing headphones*

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

[1 hour later]

Tim: *asleep at his desk*

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

[2 hours later]

Bruce: *walks by and scans it*

Tim: What was that beeping?

Bruce: Just my phone.

———————

Bruce: Barbara, can you help me analyze this Kryptonite sample?

Barbara: Hm... the color and texture line up with mechanically-cut Kryptonite, but something about it seems off. Where did you find it?

Bruce: The docks.

Barbara: I'm gonna need to run some tests.

Bruce: *wonders when he should tell her it's green glass*

———————

[at dinner]

Duke: *turns and talks to someone*

Bruce: *adds a scoop of mashed potatoes to Duke's plate*

Duke: *goes back to his plate*

Duke: *leaves to get a drink*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

Duke: *comes back and keeps eating*

Duke: *drops his fork and bends down to get it*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

Duke: Anyway, what was I saying before?

Bruce, pointing: What's that?

Duke: *looks behind him*

Bruce: *adds another scoop*

———————

Steph: Bruce, have you seen my sweater? The purple one with white flowers.

Bruce: No, sorry.

Steph: Oh, okay. No biggie.

Steph: *leaves*

Bruce: *takes the sweater to the post office*

[a couple days later]

Alfred: Miss Stephanie, there is a package for you.

Steph: Weird, I didn't order anything.

Steph: *opens it*

Steph:

———————

Cass: *lurking in the corner*

Bruce: *secretly takes a picture from above with a drone*

Bruce: *AirDrops it to her*

———————

Bruce: What do you want for the holidays?

Damian: Well, I would like another cat.

Bruce: I'll see what I can do.

[weeks later]

Damian: A bulldozer?

Bruce: Not just any bulldozer. A Cat.

———————

Jason: *parks and goes inside*

Bruce: *steals Jason's bike tires*

[porcelana-r0ta]

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead. 

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

“What did I do?” 

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 

Damn, Jason curses to himself. 

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!” 

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?” Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 

“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from the one where Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it.

(The read-more is definitely necessary, length-wise. I . . . got very into this idea and frankly this is barely a third of it so far, lol.)

"So, uh . . ." Kon says, skeptically eyeing the softly glowing rock in his hand. Metallo, like, threw it at his head. He has no idea why. "Is this supposed to do something or . . . ?"

"It's pink," Kara says leerily, staying very firmly back. Like, unexpectedly far back, in fact.

"Yeah, I'm not actually blind, thanks," Kon says, turning the rock over and squinting at it. It continues not to do anything, aside from the glowing thing.

"No, it's pink kryptonite," she stresses.

". . . it literally doesn't hurt at all, though?" Kon says. Though he probably should've figured it was some kind of kryptonite, given that Metallo had it and had apparently thought he could hurt him with it.

Seriously, though, his gloves are fingerless and he's got it right in his hand. It should be hurting him, if it's actually kryptonite.

"Pink kryptonite doesn't work like that," Kara says, edging a little farther back. They're floating a few hundred feet in the air right now, but from the way she's acting Kon's vaguely concerned that he might be about to explode or something. "It just affects our sexual . . . urges."

"Oh," Kon says, frowning in confusion. Weird, but . . . "Is that all?"

"I don't mean like it makes you horny, Kon, I mean like it makes you homosexual," Kara hisses, looking mortified. "And don't ask how I know, alright?!"

Kon . . . blinks.

"What the literal fuck?" he asks incredulously, just staring at her. "How does that even–are you telling me Metallo went and chucked gay kryptonite at me in the middle of a fight?"

"Yes!" Kara says, still clearly mortified. "So just–just stay over there with it until somebody shows up with a lead box, okay?! The effects will stop after we get it contained."

"Alright, alright. So then do you think the dude was flirting with me or is he just a fucking idiot?" Kon jokes, balancing the kryptonite on his index finger with his TTK. "Although I really don't think he'd be my type either way. Like, nothing against cyborgs in general, obviously, just the whole thing with him being a murderous supervillain who literally runs on kryptonite seems like it'd make us totally star-crossed. I want somebody I can actually commit to, you know?"

"Sure," Kara says, still eyeing the kryptonite with serious trepidation. It's really not helping Kon feel less like a time bomb, to be honest. Is there like some other side effect that he should be worrying about right now or something? Like, is he missing something here?

"You seem kinda high-strung about this," he observes, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Look, you'd have avoided it too if you'd dealt with it before!" she says protestingly. "So stay over there and definitely keep it away from Kal, I don't know if Jimmy ever really recovered from the last time."

"Oh, well, congrats to Jimmy, I guess," Kon says, since he can't really see a downside to scoring a one-night stand with Superman. Like, a downside for somebody who isn't literally his clone, he means. The clone thing would definitely make it weird.

Just it's also Clark, though, so he'd probably be the generous type in bed. Like, the sort to really take care of somebody. Be as gentle as happened to be appropriate but also be down if his partner maybe wanted it a little rough for whatever reason. And he'd definitely be able to go all night. Again, Kon isn't gonna go there himself, it really would be too weird, but he can make a logical conclusion. Extrapolate one. Whatever.

Then again he'd be down with Power Girl absolutely destroying him whenever the fuck she wanted to and she's genetically his . . . some form of cousin or something, he guesses. His half-cousin from another reality. So really, Clark's not even that weird an option. And like, all appearances aside Kon's a binary clone anyway, not even a one-for-one match, sooooo . . .

Actually it's probably weirder that he thinks Power Girl is so unspeakably hot but comparatively Kara is just . . . fine? Like, that's a little odd, isn't it?

Maybe it's an attitude thing. Or the costume.

Might be safe to blame the costume, yeah.

It's just such a good costume. Like, Kon aspires to reach that level of costume.

But really, all that aside he still doesn't even know what the big deal about temporarily going gay is, although to be fair he's also currently talking to Supergirl and not, like . . . literally any dude whatsoever. So like, who knows how weird this stuff might actually make him under those circumstances. Maybe it like fucks with inhibitions and stuff too?

Yeah, hell if he knows. He's really only dealt with green kryptonite before. He was vaguely aware that other colors existed and apparently did different stuff, but . . . this just seems very different, put it that way.

Maybe best to avoid Jimmy Olsen for a little while, Kon decides privately. The guy probably doesn't need that.

Besides, Clark apparently got there first anyway and Kon just really doesn't want to be worrying about measuring up. Miss him with that, thanks.

. . . although maybe he'll go visit Tim later.

Eh, no, Kara made it sound like the pink K's gonna stop affecting him pretty quick once they box it up, so not much point in bothering. Though maybe he'll visit just to hang, come to think of it; they haven't seen each other in almost a whole week. Well, he hasn't seen Tim, at least–who knows how much Bat-surveillance Tim's seen him through.

Kon should maybe sweep his room for bugs again. Note to self.

Although would it be weird to just like . . . keep the pink kryptonite, maybe? Since it apparently doesn't actually hurt anyone or anything? Because that could be, well . . . just interesting, that's all. Like, Kon is open to exploring that experience. Just–as an experience.

"Actually, you're surprisingly not high-strung about this," Kara says.

"Am I?" Kon asks. "I mean, it's not that big a deal, is it?"

She stares at him.

"Kon," she says slowly. "Pink kryptonite affects your sexuality. It makes you attracted to people you're not normally attracted to. It confuses you and everyone around you and it is really freaking embarrassing to explain afterwards."

"I've been mind-controlled into shaving my head and breaking my best friend's arm," Kon says, continuing to not really see what the big deal is. "That was embarrassing. And fucking traumatic. This? This is just kinda weird."

"Only kinda?" Kara asks incredulously. "You're one of the straightest guys I know! How are you just fine with this?!"

"I mean to be fair, that's probably making some unfair generalizations about straight guys," Kon points out. Kara stares at him. "What?"

"I don't even know how to respond to that," she says.

"Sorry?" Kon says, then tucks the pink kryptonite into his jacket pocket with a shrug. He's not trying to hide it or anything; just getting kinda sick of holding it. And it's that or he either ditches it somewhere or starts tossing it around and that'd probably be . . . just, well, absolutely epically stupid of him.

Or it seems like it would be, anyway. Whatever color it is, it's still kryptonite.

"I mentioned keeping that away from Kal, right?" Kara says.

"Yeah, on that note, are they like . . . done down there yet?" Kon asks, glancing down towards the mess of the street that Clark's standing on a few hundred feet below with a whole bunch of randos from S.T.A.R. Labs, for some reason. Somebody mentioned something about neutralizing Metallo's kryptonite heart without actually killing him, but mostly it was science talk and clearly theoretical anyway so to be honest Kon'd kinda tuned it all out as "not currently relevant", and that's all he knows.

"Definitely not," Kara says.

"I'm gonna call Robin while we're killing time, then," Kon says, pulling out his phone.

"You're going to call your closest male friend," Kara says. "Right now. While you've got pink kryptonite in your pocket."

"Yup," Kon says, already pulling up Tim's contact.

"Can you not see how that might be a bad idea at the moment?" Kara asks. "Not in any way whatsoever?"

"Well I'm not calling Impulse," Kon replies reasonably. Kara stares at him again, for some reason.

Eh, whatever.

He calls Tim.

"Hey, Conner, what's up?" Tim answers distractedly, which Kon doesn't hold against him because when isn't Tim distracted, really. Dude's got too much going on in that head of his, for real. He's just glad the guy ever picks up the phone at all.

"So apparently I'm gay right now," Kon greets conversationally, figuring he should lead with that just in case he actually is about to do something embarrassing to explain. "Pink kryptonite is fucking weird, man."

". . . uh," Tim says as Kara covers her face with her hands. "What?"

"Pink kryptonite makes you gay, Kara says," Kon says. "And we're both just kind of chilling above downtown Metropolis waiting for Kal to finish up with the science-y people so we can get said pink K locked up, so I'm bored out of my mind right now and calling you to complain about it."

"You're calling me," Tim says slowly. "While you're . . . gay."

"What, is he asking to come over?" another voice asks from the phone, sounding amused. It takes Kon a second to recognize it, but–oh yeah, that's the mysterious Bernard, isn't it?

Right, Tim has a boyfriend now. Kon's never actually met him on account of being the worst at secret identities and the whole thing that is Bernard living very firmly in Gotham, land of "no metas allowed unless you're either a supervillain or Batman's too dead to stop you", but he's heard him over the phone a couple times now, although they've never actually personally talked. So maybe thinking about Tim while being high on pink kryptonite isn't actually, like, kosher? Or polite. Or whatever.

. . . then again, Bernard did ask.

"I don't know, maybe?" Kon says thoughtfully, considering the idea. "Are you open to me coming over?"

"Yes," Bernard says.

"Bernard," Tim says.

"Babe, I know we're pretending I don't know you're an ass-kicking vigilante and all but come on, don't make me turn down Superboy," Bernard says wryly.

"We're–wait, pretending?!" Tim sputters.

"Pretending so, so hard," Bernard confirms, sounding nothing but fond. Kon's actually a little jealous of that tone of voice, he's gotta admit. Like–it's been a bit since anybody's talked to him that way, is all. "But like, if you actually thought you were being subtle maybe you shouldn't talk about kryptonite on the phone right in front of me or put themed emojis next to all your superfriends' civilian names in your contacts list?"

"Oh my god, you do that?!" Kon asks with a gleeful cackle, immediately forgetting everything else in favor of that absolutely delightful piece of information. "You're the worst! Batman just rolled over in his grave and Oracle is absolutely losing her shit on the other end of her wiretap!"

"B's not even dead right now," Tim says in exasperation. "And if O cared she'd have already hacked my phone and changed them. And for the record plenty of people put random superhero emojis next to their friends' names, that's a totally normal thing to do!"

"Usually the random superhero emojis aren't associated with contact pics that are dead fucking ringers for said superheroes," Bernard says, sounding amused again. "Just as a thing and all."

". . . anyway so you're gay today, how's that going for you, Conner?" Tim says as Bernard laughs gleefully in the background. "Triggering any unfortunate mental health crisises or anything? Making you worry about the validity of your masculinity? Because I can safely assure you that's all bullshit and you're fine."

"Naw, I know all that, being gay is just a thing," Kon says with a shrug. "Kara's being a little weird about it but honestly it's going way better than, like, the times supervillains mind-controlled me into being into them. Like just as an overall experience, I mean."

"Wait, how many times has that come up?" Tim asks in bemusement.

"I dunno?" Kon shrugs again. "I mean you were there for the Poison Ivy incident, and then Gorgeous Gilly happened to me a while later, which was, uh, genuinely horrifying because she tried to literally marry me during all that, so . . . I think just the twice, probably? But don't quote me on that, I don't even remember what I had for breakfast."

"And how is Kara being weird, exactly?" Tim says in his very unsubtle "assessing my teammate's psychological condition" voice.

"Oh, she's mostly just avoiding me?" Kon says, as a guy who's personally not really all that concerned with his psychological condition at the moment. "Because I've got the rock in my pocket on account of not wanting to just leave it lying around somewhere and she doesn't want to get affected by it. I don't know why, I don't really get why it matters."

"I mean it matters, definitely," Bernard says. "Like it very strongly matters to a lot of people."

"Fair, but I think we're all too invulnerable to really have to worry about getting gay-bashed or anything," Kon reasons. "Like, at least not as a heat of the moment thing."

". . . god can you imagine the world we would live in if every piece of shit gay-basher had to deal with the consequences of punching fucking Superman?" Bernard says feelingly. "For real."

"Oh, pink K's temporary," Kon clarifies. "Kal's not gay anymore."

"Hold up, I'm sorry, are you saying that at some point he was?" Bernard demands in obvious delight. "Is that what you're telling me right now?"

"I guess he was into redheads?" Kon says, tilting his head. "Slightly twinky redheads, specifically. Which I don't blame him for, I'm gonna be honest."

"Well now I know that forever, thanks," Tim says dryly.

"Alternate option: he could've been into Batman," Kon points out.

"Redheads it is," Tim says. "You just . . . redhead away over there."

"I mean I thought about it, kinda," Kon admits.

"Ngh," Tim says, for some reason.

"No thinking about Batman, though?" Bernard asks with a snicker.

"Not so much," Kon says, making a face. "Did consider having some Superman thoughts but I'm apparently not that narcissistic, surprisingly enough."

"Kon!" Kara chokes.

"Tell me you've never considered having Superman thoughts and I'll tell you you're a fucking liar," Kon snorts, shooting her a dry look. "Weren't you like totally naked when you first showed up on Earth? And then he found you like that and wrapped you up in his cape all nice and gentlemanly and took you home with him?"

"He is my baby cousin and you're being affected by pink kryptonite poisoning!" Kara accuses, her face bright red.

"Wait, is it actually poisoning me?" Kon says with a frown. "I feel like you should've led with it actually poisoning me, if that's actually a thing."

"Well no, not actually, it's physically harmless," Kara says grudgingly, folding her arms. "But you're still being affected! You're having Superman thoughts, of all things!"

"He just seems like he'd be considerate," Kon says reasonably. "Like, you know. Biblically."

"Ngh," Tim says, again for no apparent reason. Bernard sounds like he might be laughing. Or choking? Or maybe both; it's unclear.

"Please don't hit on Kal," Kara says. "Especially don't hit on Kal with pink kryptonite in your pocket. I don't want to know how that situation would end up."

"Ideally with him being considerate," Kon says. Tim chokes. Kara covers her face again.

"Does pink kryptonite affect your inhibitions too or are you just always like this?" Bernard asks curiously.

"Eh, pretty sure I'm just always like this, going by the things I've definitely still not been forgiven for saying to Power Girl," Kon says, idly tapping a finger against the side of his phone case. "Like, pretty damn sure at this point."

"That is unfortunately accurate," Tim agrees resignedly.

"So you're saying it is ethically okay to have Superboy over while he's gay," Bernard says in a promisingly speculative tone. Kon grins. Just a little, but yeah–definitely he grins. Kara grimaces, because she is absolutely no fun whatsoever.

Spoilsport.

"I did not in any way say that," Tim retorts dubiously.

"I mean that's what I heard, man, and I'm the one with super-hearing in this conversation," Kon says with a wider grin. "My inhibitions are all inhibited and my personal opinions of people are all the same, I'm just currently batting for the other team."

"So your normal opinion of me is that if you were gay, you'd come over," Tim says dryly.

"Yeah?" Kon says, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, obviously."

"How is that obvious?" Tim says.

"Because I already come over every time you let me," Kon reminds him.

"Oh yeah?" Bernard says slyly. "And how often does he let you come, exactly?"

"Not often enough," Kon replies honestly, and doesn't even bite at the obvious dumb sex joke Bernard so thoughtfully set up for him even though it is frankly painful not to.

"Ngh," Tim says. Kon continues not to understand the reason for him repeatedly making that same weird little noise, but whatever, he guesses. It's Tim, maybe he's stitching his own bullet wounds again or something. Guy's a multi-tasker like that.

"You know this would probably make for a fascinating case study about sexuality, actually," Bernard says musingly. "I mean, all I intend to do is abuse the situation to get into your very tight tights, but seriously, maybe we should all be taking notes or something."

"Ugh, hell no, Rob'll go full Bat if we let him do that," Kon snorts, then smirks. "He can take pictures, though, I know he's into that."

"Ngh," Tim says yet again, accompanied by a weird random "thump". If Kon didn't know better, he'd think he'd just fallen off a chair or something.

"Aw dammit, dude, I think I actually like you as a person now," Bernard says, sniggering. "Are you keeping the kryptonite? Please keep the kryptonite. Like, just for Valentine's and Tim's birthday, that's all I ask."

"Honestly don't know if Superman's gonna let me but I do kinda wanna," Kon admits. It seems pretty convenient, really. And definitely fun.

". . . and you're sure his inhibitions and opinions aren't being influenced in any way, Kara?" Tim asks suspiciously.

"He's really just like this, yeah," Kara says resignedly. "Well admittedly Kal spontaneously developed opinions on window treatments and used the word 'smashing' in cold blood when it happened to him, but that might've just been him sucking at flirting. Because he really does suck at flirting."

"What about when it was you?" Kon asks curiously.

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara says.

"You kinda implied–"

"No one ever said it happened to me," Kara repeats, narrowing her eyes at him and doing an impressively bad job of acting like she's not blushing.

So it definitely happened to her, yeah.

"Okaaaaay, we'll pretend about that too then," Bernard says. "Well, what are your opinions on window treatments, Conner?"

"That I don't know what they are," Kon says.

"Sounds like he's in his right mind to me," Bernard says.

"He is absolutely not," Kara retorts dubiously.

"I really don't feel weird or anything, I swear," Kon tells her, since he still doesn't get the problem but also doesn't actually want to worry her either. "I don't even feel any different."

"Kon, you are hitting on your best friend and his boyfriend," Kara says. "Together. At once. Simultaneously, one might even say."

"You've met Wonder Girl and Arrowette before, right?" Kon says. "And both the Batgirls? And–"

"Oh my god, Kon," she cuts him off.

"Just saying," he says, then pauses for a moment and frowns consideringly. "Actually, question, how gay is this stuff making me, because while we're on the topic of threeways I kinda always wondered about what Starfire and Nightwing get up to together and if–"

"KON!" Kara yells, covering her ears.

"I'm just asking," he huffs.

"I don't know if it's actually possible to be gay enough to not be into Starfire," Bernard says musingly. "Like I can't imagine how it ever could be."

"Right?" Kon says.

"It's possible to not be into Starfire," Tim says. "Like, theoretically. Asexuals and aromantics both exist, for one."

"Do they?" Kon says doubtfully. "Like in general, sure, but when around specifically Starfire?"

". . . I can't technically prove you wrong due to a lack of reliable evidence but still," Tim says. "The possibility is there. If nothing else the multiverse is a thing."

"Last time I saw her she was wearing half a gold lamé bikini and I am not going to tell you which half or define how loosely I am using the term 'wearing'," Kon says.

"I said it's possible, not probable," Tim says.

"What about you, man, are you the gold lamé type?" Bernard asks with a teasing snicker. "Just while you're gay and all, of course. That's like, practically a cultural thing. Gotta be authentic to the experience, yeah?"

"That is in no way whatsoever a cultural thing, babe," Tim says dubiously.

"Please, like I've never worn freaking lamé," Kon scoffs. "I've worn collars and loincloths and leather and crop tops and enough unnecessary belts to tie up a Bat, lamé is nothing."

"Collars and . . . loincloths?" Bernard repeats, sounding confused.

"Yeah, this one time I crash-landed on a lost isle of beast-men and they kidnapped and enslaved me for a few months," Kon explains, waving a hand distractedly. "Frankly I count myself lucky they even let me have the collar, much less the loincloth."

". . . um," Bernard says.

"You, uh, never mentioned the collar part of that story before, Kon," Tim says, clearing his throat. "You very definitely never mentioned the collar part of that story before."

"Oh yeah, the prince kinda kept me as his pet for a little bit?" Kon tells him with an easy shrug. "Like he and all his buddies ganged up on me and then took me home with them, but I was kinda . . . feral, I guess? Technically? So like, collar and chain setup. But he was cool, he took real good care of me."

"Ngh," Tim says just barely faintly.

"Yeah you should definitely come over," Bernard says. "Tim, get the check. Conner, exactly how super is your super-speed?"

"You can just call me Kon," Kon says. "And . . . mach 3, last I clocked it?"

"Isn't that like two thousand miles per hour?" Bernard asks.

"Two thousand two hundred and twenty-three point three," Kon replies with a pleased smirk. "Faster than a speeding bullet. Or so they tell me."

"We'll just meet you at Tim's, how's that," Bernard says. "That work for you, Kon?"

"That works for me, Bernard," Kon confirms, smirking wider.

"Oh my god, Kon, you cannot possibly be serious right now," Kara says in exasperation, rubbing at her temples. "Just because you're temporarily gay doesn't mean you should do anything about it!"

"I mean, I'm feeling pretty serious?" Kon says, shrugging again. He still doesn't get why she's being so sensitive about this. "It's not like this is the weirdest thing I've ever done in pursuit of a good time. Like, holy hell, lemme tell you about the Ravers sometime."

"You're going to have to look Robin in the eye after this!" Kara says. "And work with him! And be a normal person in his presence! Normally!"

"I'm aware?" Kon says, vaguely bemused by her concern. Like he's never been normal around somebody he's slept with before, geez. "Tell Kal I ran off with the pink K, if he wants to lock it up in the Fortress or wherever I can bring it back tomorrow."

"Maybe Monday," Bernard says.

"Or maybe Monday," Kon amends.

"It's Thursday!" Kara sputters.

"So it's a long weekend," Bernard says.

"I'm not explaining this to Kal," Kara says. "I'm not explaining this to Batman."

"I really don't see why you'd have to," Kon says. "Rob, you cool with the long weekend thing? Not too much of an imposition?"

". . . I got the check," Tim mutters in obvious and absolute mortification.

Kon's gonna take that as a "yes".

"Cool," he says, grinning broadly. "See you soon, Boy Wonder."

He ends the call. Kara drags her hands down her face and continues to stay very far away from him and the pink kryptonite in his pocket.

"When you go back to normal and freak out and make everything weird with Robin and your team and even Robin's literal boyfriend, I'm going to say so many 'I told you so's," she swears vehemently. "So don't say I didn't warn you."

"Your objection is on the record," Kon says, then tosses her a lazy salute with another grin and takes off, kryptonite and all.

Best to just scarper while Clark's distracted, yeah?

Definitely best.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Dallas' head snaps back, and he stumbles with the force of an unexpected hand on his shoulder. For the briefest moment, he goes entirely limp, lets his fist hang in the air and doesn't try to scramble back to the boy on the steady retreat in front of him.

Darry's got him. And if he'd thought it through for even a second longer that would have scared the shit out of him. But then the fingers are tearin' into his jacket and forcin' him backward and he finally whips his head around and realizes the reality: two very pissed cops have got him.

And he immediately starts fightin' again. He writhes in their grip and the kid he'd been whalin' on is suddenly skitterin' back with renewed fear. Dallas bares his teeth once and figures he's made his point.

The next ten minutes are a blur.

His heart is poundin' in his ears and he can feel his pulse as it rattles under the cuffs the cops slapped on him the second they could get his wrists within a foot of each other and his head is achin' and he realizes for the first time he tastes blood but he can't focus on anythin' because all he can think is Fuck, Darry is never gonna forgive me for this.

He says it all the time. When he rolls in an hour late and thinks Darry's gonna kick my ass. Or when he lets Pony have just a little too much of his beer and the kid's gigglin' fit to wake the dead when Dallas 'n him sneak back in. Or when he hauls off and picks stupid fuckin' fights for no reason.

But this time he means it.

He groans and drops his head to his hands in the little holdin' cell they have him waitin' in until they process him. Last night's argument flashes vaguely in stills through his mind. He wasn't comfortable with people... carin'. He just didn't know what to do with it.

You can't tell me what to do, Darrel. Dallas flew up from the kitchen table and paced wildly away from Darry. Pony watched him with wary eyes. Soda bit his lip and looked at Dallas like he was tryin' to tell him a hundred things Dally didn't know how to understand.

Yes, I can. I won't have you actin' a fool and gettin' yourself hurt. Darry frowned and he's got these lines in his forehead Two jokes he never had before Dallas moved in. Dallas can't stand to see them.

You're not my brother. And you're not my dad. I ain't never had no one tellin' me what to do in my whole life and I'm not about to let you start. He'd slammed the screen door and gone straight to Tim's, started a fight, wound up at Buck's 'n drank til he vomited, woke up this mornin', and started another.

Darry was goin' to throw him to the fuckin' curb and never talk to him again. And Dallas deserved it. He wasn't one of the Curtis boys. No matter how hard he wanted to be.

"Name?" A cop had reappeared in his cell and he kicked himself for missin' it.

"Curtis." Dallas opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. "Fuck. No, sorry." Since when the fuck did he apologize to cops! "It's Winston. Dallas Winston."

The man just stared at him, Curtis already written across the top of the paper in big, bold letters. "Are you sober, kid?"

"Yes, I'm fuckin' sober! My name's not Curtis. How the fuck do you not know me?" To his horror, he feels hot tears in the back of his throat. He's just some no-good juvenile delinquent every bastard officer in this town knows by name except this one apparently because all he is is trouble. And Darry hated him.

"Sure, kid." The man shuffles his papers together. "Officer Matthews has already called your- big brother is it? He's on his way."

"He's not my brother!" And now he's actually cryin' which is bullshit! Who cares! Who cares that Darry is gonna look at him just like his father did. Like he was a burden he'd do anythin' to get rid of. Like the worst thing Dallas ever did was simply show up in his life one day. Dallas is used to this. He's not someone who stays. He was meant to be left. He's a violent dog. He only knows how to bite.

"Dallas?" Darry's voice makes him jump. He doesn't pull his hands away from where they're pressed so hard into his eyes that he sees stars. He can't bear to look up and see what he already knows he will—not hatred, but cold, cold indifference.

"Out." Darry isn't talkin' to him, Dallas can tell he's turned around by the way his voice bounces back to him off the cement walls. He flinches anyway. "Please." He adds like an afterthought and Dallas hears the door open and close.

"I'm goin' to touch you, ok?" Dallas doesn't say anythin', just makes a low noise in the back of his throat. He feels Darry gently tip his head back, eyes still squeezed shut. He feels him softly check the area on his jaw he knows will bruise tomorrow and run experimental fingers along his ribs for breaks. Dally hisses once and Darry immediately pulls back.

"Oh, Dallas." And suddenly Dallas is fuckin' cryin' again. Darry sounds so tired and worn down and old. Did Dallas do that? Did Dallas make him like that? And the sob that catches in his throat makes him choke.

But then he's pressed against Darry's chest and his hands are strong on Dalla's back and in his hair and Dallas doesn't even fight it. Just lets himself be held and doesn't even mind he feels as small as Ponyboy.

"Come on, Dallas Curtis. Let's go home."

[goddamnitmahtin]

Winner’s Choice

“I win!” Sam shouted as she laid out her cards. It was a royal flush.

“Dammit!” Danny said as he threw his cards onto the table.

Wes sighed, “I told you that you weren’t gonna win. I told you to bet low but NOOO don’t listen to Wes, he’s only the one who can count the cards.”

Sam shouted in return, pointing at Wes, “You said you would stop doing that! You prick! Just because of that I win by default.”

Danny groaned. This wasn’t going to be good. He never should have made that deal.

“Okay Sam, just like we agreed. Winner gets a favor. What do you want?” Danny asked. He should have known. Danny was a terrible gambler. But Wes wasn’t allowed to play anymore because he couldn’t help but count the cards based on patterns in the deck. All they wanted was for Sam to lend them some money…. paying rent is hard when you’re in college. And it’s not like she wasn’t rich as all hell.

Danny, Wes and Sam were meeting up for game night. They were only able to do it every few months. Ever since they all left Amity and split off in their separate ways, it was hard to meet up in person anymore. Sam moved to Gotham to live in the estate her family had there. She was working to take over the finances and was working to use the money to give back to the environment. Danny and Wes moved to Metropolis for college. They didn’t realize until they bumped into each other on campus freshman year. At the start of senior year the two of them got an apartment with 3 other guys for real cheap.

Tucker on the other hand wasn’t so close. He had moved across the country to go study at Harvard. He had big dreams of double majoring in law and computer science. From all the calls they had all had over the years, Danny could tell he was doing well. He trusted his boyfriend to kick ass when it came to pretty much anything he put his mind to. He just wished he wasn’t so far away. Could Danny have found another partner more local? Well yes, he and Tucker weren’t monogamous. That type of thing never really sat well with either of them. Besides, being so far from one another only made that decision make even more sense.

“I want you two to go to the charity gala this weekend so I don’t have to. My family is being so annoying about it and honestly? I had plans anyways,” Sam said. She had a lighthearted and mischievous tone but Danny has known Sam long enough to know she wasn’t joking.

Danny whined, “Oh come on Sam! That’s a HUGE favor!”

Sam simply shrugged, “It wouldn’t have been so bad if Wes hadn’t tried to help you by cheating. Again!”

Okay. Touché touché.

“Well… I guess we are going to a party,” Wes sighed as he finished off his drink.

What neither of them knew was that after that night, neither of their lives would be the same. And it was all because of a boy named Tim Drake. Fuck you Tim (not really).

[aealzx]

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Update Post

Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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“Everything’s fine, Danny just wanted to join us for lunch,” Tim declared when he entered the dining room with Danny. It wasn’t the complete truth, but it was still better than telling them they had left Danny without enough water and he had collapsed trying to get it himself.

“Oh! You’re finally ready for something other than toast, huh?” Stephanie asked as everyone’s mood seemed to lift with that declaration.

“Y’yeah… It’d be nice to get back to eating anything I wanted,” Danny agreed, going along with the reason Tim had provided as Tim helped him get situated in an open chair next to Danielle, who gave him a thumbs up. Seeing, and smelling the food the others had made him realize he actually was a little hungry as well as thirsty.

“You’ll love Alfred’s cooking, trust me,” Tucker chimed in around his own lunch. It looked like they had some sort of creamy soup and small sandwiches.

“Pretty sure that’s what I’ve been having already,” Danny snickered.

“Yeah, but this is actual food,” Tucker corrected.

“Just don’t push yourself,” Jazz cautioned, not wanting Danny to make himself sick even though he hadn’t had any issues lately. It was a comment that helped Tim understand a little more why Danny was so bad at asking for help.

As soon as Danny had been brought to the table Alfred had left the dining room to fetch lunch for him as well, soon to return with another tray of food. Unlike the others though, the bowl was full of a mild tomato soup that was pleasantly warm. And that and a small plate of two slices of lightly buttered toast were placed in front of Danny along with a glass of water. It was a welcome change from the broth he’d been getting, and Danny couldn’t help smiling.

“Thank you,” Danny was sure to bid, looking up gratefully at Alfred.

“You’re welcome, Young Master,” Alfred responded, pleased to see their house charge feeling well enough to join them at the table.

“He still looks a bit like death warmed over,” Jason commented casually before putting a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

“That’s rich coming from the dead man walking,” Danielle returned just as easily.

“Morticians wish they could match my liveliness,” Jason retorted, raising a hand to frame his face for a moment.

“Guys, could we not do the dead jokes? You’re gonna make people hole up,” Stephanie chided, noting how others at the table were grimacing or otherwise looking rather sullen.

“Oh come on. You have three dead people at the table. It’s not that insensitive,” Danielle protested.

“Dani, I dont think it's a comfortable topic for everyone,” Jazz hushed, glancing towards Bruce, who’s expression was looking significantly distant.

Danny hadn’t commented in favor of blowing on the tomato soup enough that he could eat it, and then was distracted by the surprisingly gentle yet rich flavor from the simple food. It definitely made the trip to the dining room worth it, though Danielle’s comment made him end up looking around at the others in mild confusion. She obviously meant him and herself for two of the people, but who was the third? He realized it was rude after he was caught, but he couldn’t help looking towards the girl with ashen skin and black hair. Wait… who was that again?

“No, it’s not Raven. It’s me,” Jason snickered slightly, pointing to himself and grinning slightly.

“....You don’t look dead,” Danny admitted, subconsciously comparing Jason to the other ghosts he’d had to deal with over the years.

“Not anymore,” Jason clarified, sparing the others at the table, and inevitably himself, the trauma trip by keeping the explanation simple.

“He died before though. That’s why he has that weird vibe not like anyone else,” Danielle added, sounding rather proud for knowing that now. “Figured that one out finally.”

“Hn,” Danny hummed around some toast, figuring if he got the option to ask about more details he’d have to do it with a smaller crowd.

“It's good to see you up and about now though kid. How are you feeling?” someone with red hair that Danny also didn’t recognize decided to change the subject to.

“.... Okay,” Danny answered, squinting slightly trying to remember who this person was also. “Better than a few days ago at least.”

“Good, good.”

“This is Wally, and Raven,” Dick spoke up after noticing Danny getting increasingly confused trying to place names to the new faces. “They both were a big help with your recovery, and we figured since you were starting to feel better we could start trying to figure out how to get you guys back home. Both of them are familiar with interdimensional travel, and Wally is pretty knowledgeable about the mechanical side of things while Raven is more versed in the mystical.”

“Oh. Are you guys going to build another portal? I guess that makes sense,” Danny acknowledged, now understanding who the new faces were.

“Well, that depends,” Wally admitted, grimacing a little. “From the sounds of it, with talking to Raven and some others, it doesn’t sound like even attempting to open a portal to the Liminal Realm is a good idea.”

“She mentioned before that attempts usually end up with some sort of explosion or implosion,” Jazz recalled.

“But she was able to do it just fine, wasn’t she? That’s how she got the ectoplasm,” Tucker pointed out.

“That was only because Dani and you two were present. And because I closed the gateway before it could react,” Raven clarified, and Danny noticed her hand seemed to have a residual injury that made him frown. “The gateway was also only one way. I was able to accept the gift it was giving to Dani, but if I’d tried to send anything through it in return I’m sure it would have broken down.”

“And based on the research Barry and I did, there isn’t much for anyone in this dimension to go off of when it comes to the Liminal Realm. It’s only really known as the most fussy realm to deal with, and most people don’t bother,” Wally concluded, only a little upset about the matter. “Which is why we wanted to ask you about how your parents were able to make a portal that’s permanently open. Everyone else said you’d know the most about that topic.”

Danny inevitably grimaced a little at that fact, not feeling like he knew much about how his parents had made the portal to the Infinite Realm either. But if it would help them get back to his parents, then he could at least try to help. “They’re not the greatest at documenting their work, but I guess I did get curious enough to look into it a little some time ago. What do you want to know?”

“Do you have any idea how the portal was constructed?” Wally prompted.

“Trial and error?” Danny grimaced again, and backtracked when Wally looked unimpressed. “Look, my parents took notes, sure, but they weren’t organized and I’m not completely sure which ones were part of the final product. I won't be able to tell you exactly how to build one.”

“That’s fine, I wasn’t expecting you to have a blueprint memorized,” Wally chuckled, not sure if Danny was being vague on purpose, or just hadn’t worked with anyone before on constructing anything. “You can just tell us what you remember, and we can try to fill in the blanks and figure out if it’s a viable option. Jazz said it was a structure on the wall in your home basement?”

“Mm,” Danny nodded around a mouthful of soup. “It looks flat when it’s on, but it’s actually a tunnel about… maybe the length of this table?” he guessed, squinting slightly as he tried to remember. “I think they changed the size of it several times, the first prototype was only about this size,” he added, gesturing to a tabletop model size in front of him. “It’s about… 2 meters in diameter? The measurement isn’t exact- is this what you want to know?”

Both Wally and Raven were listening intently to Danny’s descriptions, and Wally blinked when Danny interrupted himself to clarify again if he was saying anything useful. “Yeah, it’s great. Anything you know about it will help, even if you think it’s not important.”

“Would it help if we tried to recreate what they can remember in a 3D space?” Tim spoke up suddenly, noting how Danny seemed to be struggling in explaining in words something he’d only dealt with in physical space.

“We can do that? I’m not exactly… a sculptor or whatever,” Danny asked, fumbling over his thoughts and words as he was once again starting to feel incredibly dumb.

“We’ll have to go to the basement, but the computer down there should allow you to draw a hologram of sorts based on what you remember. That way we can see what you’re thinking, more or less,” Tim explained, then inevitably glanced over Danny’s form briefly. “If you’re up for it of course. We don’t want to push-”

“No. It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Danny agreed quickly, not sure how to accept Danielle trying to reassure him by placing a hand on his arm for a moment. She knew her brother tended to get flustered in anything that resembled an academic setting, but wasn’t sure how to convince him he wasn’t as dumb as his school told him he was.

“Cool. We can head down there after lunch,” Tim nodded, returning to his own meal.

__________________

You ever have hair that's 100% def too short to get in your food when you're eating, but you still push it out of the way anyway? Yeah I'll admit this drawing was 100% self indulgent 'cause I remember seeing a similar drawing of a different chara before and just loving it XD I love when charas get drawn doing really subtle but oh so casually human things.

Anyway, tomato soup with bread is my favorite food ever, so I tend to default to that when charas get some notably "good food" or comfort food for once.

fast update because this is part of that bug chunk I had to split into 3 parts XD just had to get a drawing

___________

Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @megacharizardx99

@bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, 

@fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics,

@honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl,

@op-sys-chaos, @kirasigncomics, @ehobep, @paranoid-ira

[witherby]

Omg hi!!! I love your mer!reader series and I was wondering if you take request? If so could you do batfamily headcanons in squid game? (You don't have to of course.) I just finished season 2 and im really excited for season 3.

Love you and keep writing❤️

Hi there! I can sure try!!! I only ever saw season 1 and that was like two years ago but I'll do my best!

( This is operating off the assumption that they are not all in the game together, otherwise they'd all make it out very easily. )

BRUCE WAYNE:

He's killing it. Not literally — moral code and all — but he's crushing this competition. Bruce Wayne's picture is in the dictionary when you look up "Strategist." He got into the games voluntarily and he will get back out alive, no question. He's doing what he can to help other players survive, but he didn't go in as Batman so he doesn't have any of the gear to help as effectively as he could've. He's gotta play it creatively and in a way that doesn't get him or anybody else disqualified for cheating. It doesn't take long for him to find any loop holes in game rules that allow for multiple people to get out of it alive.

Bruce entered the games, not for money, but to find out who is behind them and bring them to justice, so that no other financially disparaged people have to consider putting their lives on the line in order to clear their debts and start fresh.

DICK GRAYSON:

I feel like he didn't end up here on purpose. I really think he either signed up for something and thought it was a silly lil competition, or that the organizers of the game kidnapped the wrong guy and Dick just went with it because he had nothing better to do. Either way, he's here, he's intrigued, and he's gonna save everybody he can while keeping your spirits up.

The jokes never stop. He never stops. Motormouth is what the other contestants end up calling him. Dick makes one of the masked guards snicker once before they get whisked away, and that does make him feel quite a bit bad. Dick's not immediately looking to destroy the system from the inside out (he'll come back and do that after the games are over). Instead, I think his goal would be to convince all the surviving players that they should vote to end the games and go back home. He'd try to be their voice of reason, to convince them that there are better ways to pick themselves up and rebuild their lives than risking death just to get some fast cash. And I think it works.

TIM DRAKE:

Tim is the opposite of Dick. He was not invited to play but he did deliberately steal another contestant's spot to get put into the game. Like Bruce, he's already out-logic'd most of the competitions to create the most amount of survivors, but he also came prepared. The deadliest competitions are suddenly sabotaged not to be as deadly, or not to work at all. Hidden weapons being offered to other players to start a riot and dwindle the numbers have all suddenly been replaced with soft foam bats and nerf guns.

He already knows who's behind the whole thing, he just needed an in so he could tear it all down quickly and cleanly. When Tim is done, he'll be missing for 48 hours at the absolute max, and leaving that place with justice done and a huge, smug smirk on his face. What, like it was hard?

DAMIAN WAYNE:

Damian is tough. I think he caught wind of the whole operation and went undercover as one of those masked game monitors/referees so he could also dismantle it from within, but with less computer hacking and sabotage, and more slashing. I think this method works best as early Damian, who has barely been introduced to his dad for like a week, before he just drops off the face of the planet for a couple days and comes back blood-soaked.

"Hello, father. That suspicious money scheme you had your eyes on? I solved the problem. What do you mean, what am I covered in? Would you believe me if I told you it was ketchup? By the way, your No Killing rule is stupid."

JASON TODD:

Post-resurrection, he's not doing anything with any subtlety. At least Damian took the time to work his way in with a disguise. Red Hood is finding out where the whole shindig is taking place, gathering a crew, kicking doors down, and setting it ablaze. He doesn't have time for games, and the longer he waits to act the more innocent people are dying. He shoots the giant money ball down and lets the players collect it freely, tells them how to leave, and peaces out without looking back. In and out, job done, on to the next one.

[xxchumanixx]

Helloooo

could you write a Tim Bradford X rookie!reader, when they meet for the first time in a bar and have a one night stand (with smut if you feel like it) and then in the morning they both have to go to work, and it turns out she is his rookie ??

and from there, he really tries to be hard on her but he can’t because he is scared to hurt her feelings ?? Even if she is kinda of a badass, so every time he is hard on her she is not afraid to talk back, and teases him for sure (dirty jokes about their one night stand).

Doomed

Tim Bradford x fem!rookie!reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem and male receiving), slight dirty talk, fluff

Word count: 3.477

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I really like the idea and it was very fun to write!

Maybe, just maybe, gonna make a series out if this.

Enjoy!

Sitting at a bar, drinking before your gonna start working for the police the next morning, maybe wasn't the best idea.

But you were nervous (even if you'd never admit that out loud), and a drink paired with foreign faces seemed to be a good way to relax.

Sitting at the bar with a martini in front of you, you played with the bowl of peanuts, occasionally picking one and eating it.

Contemplating if you should ask for more, someone sat beside you. From your first glance you could tell he was handsome - a little older than you, but you didn't mind that.

He must have caught you looking, cause after he ordered a beer his gaze fell on you.

"Hi." he greeted you, a small smile gracing his lips that looked more than kissable. "Hey." you gave back, smiling as well, as his gaze fell to the bowl.

"Hungry?" he wanted to know, chuckling lightly. "Oh!" you made, chuckling as well. "No, I just played with the bowl and somehow ended up eating all the peanuts that were left."

He chuckled again, as he held out his hand to you. "Tim." he introduced himself. "Y/N." you gave back, shaking his hand. It was big and warm, his long fingers brushing over yours as you let go.

"Nice to meet you." he said, gesturing to your drink. "Want another one?" Your gaze followed his to your almost empty martini. "Sure, that would be nice." you gave back, smiling.

His hand rose, gathering the barkeepers attention. "Another martini for the lady, please." he ordered, to which the barkeeper nodded, starting to mix your drink.

"Thank you." you told him, head resting on your hand as you looked up at him. He nodded, smiling.

"What brought you here tonight?" he asked, elbow resting on the bar with his body turned towards you.

"I start my new job in the morning and I was a little nervous about it." you explained. "Thought a drink and foreign faces would help." His head tilted, looking at you in interest. "What job?"

Swallowing you decided to lie. He didn't need to know that you were to start as a cop.

"I'm at a marketing company as a media designer." you explained, proud of your little lie. He nodded, smiling. "Sounds great."

The evening went on with you two talking and drinking, and before you knew it it became a little more.

"What do you say...." he started, biting his lip, averting your attention for a second. "If we go to my place." Heat rushed through you, a smile stretching your lips. "I like that idea."

He smirked, before he payed for your drinks. Then you both walked out and to his car. Climbing inside the truck you felt giddy, knowing exactly what was about to come - that was if he wasn't a serial killer.

The drive felt like it was sparkling with electricity, an atmosphere so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

When you reached his house he parked, before you got out, following him to the front door. Your fingers trembled in anticipation, as he opened the door, before heading inside.

Once the door was closed, his lips were on yours.

They really were kissable.

It was all tongue and teeth, his hands gripping your waist, tugging you closer. The bulge in his pants pressed against your belly, and you bit your lip as his brushed down your neck.

Breathing heavily, you pushed his shirt up, tugging it over his head and discarding of it on the floor.

His hands did the same with your tight dress, pushing it up to your hips, his hands grabbing your ass as his lips found their way back to yours.

Moaning you buckled into him, his hands pressing you against him. Then his kisses went down further, over the bit of cleavage that was exposed by your dress, one of his hands kneading your breast through the thin bra you wore underneath.

Biting your lip you held back a moan, causing him to look up at you again. "Don't hold it back." he told you. "I wanna hear it."

Another wave of heat rushed through you, and you did as you were told, his words turning you on even more, as you moaned, cheeks flushed.

He kneeled down, lips ghosting over your stomach, before he pushed the dress up further, bunching it up just above your belly.

Breathing heavily you followed him with your eyes, gasping as he looked up, his fingers ghosting over your clothed cunt.

"So wet already." he mumbled, and your cheeks flushed harder. He kissed it, before his fingers hooked under the waistband of your lace panties, tugging them down your legs.

Biting your lip you stepped out of them, before his hands guided you back to him.

Placing one of your legs on his shoulder, you gasped, as his breath fanned over your heat. Steadying yourself your hands found their way into his hair.

As his tongue licked a stripe up your cunt, you moaned loudly. One of his hands gripped your ass, pressing you against him as his mouth began to devour you.

His tongue flicked over your clit, sucking it into his mouth, causing you to see stars as you tugged at his short hair.

Releasing your clit with a wet pop, his tongue found your entrance, pushing inside. You were a moaning mess under him, melting away like butter in the sun.

His thumb drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, the dress sliding back down a little, but neither of you cared really, as his tongue continued its assault on you.

"Fuck." you breathed, looking down at him with hooded eyes. Meeting his gaze your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you rode his face.

His thumb left your clit, one of his fingers slowly pushing inside you. You gasped, clenching around it as the knot in your belly tightened more and more.

He began fingering you, fast. As his tongue flicked over your clit, almost matching the speed of his finger, he added a second one.

It made filthy sounds as he licked and fingered you just behind his front door, the thought making you moan again. He was relentless on you, making you whimper, as he lightly bit down, the pain shooting pleasure down to your toes.

Screaming his name you came on his tongue, the knot in your belly exploding so suddenly it stole your breath; riding out your high on him as he took everything you gave him.

Gasping for air you slowly came down, letting go of his hair, as he set your leg back down. He stood back up, chuckling at your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing.

Kissing down your neck he gave you a moment to calm down, before he sucked at your sweet spot, making you moan again.

It felt like he knew your body without even having touched it before.

Kissing you, he guided you backwards, not stopping until you hit the bedroom door, fumbling for the doorknob.

Opening the door he walked you backwards to his bed, until your legs came in contact with it. He turned you around, opening the dress, before sliding it down your body.

His fingers followed your curves, making you shiver in delight, before he opened your bra, discarding of it on the floor as well. Turning back around he pushed you onto the mattress, getting rid of your shoes, before he unbuttoned his pants.

Sliding them down followed by his briefs his cock sprung free, making your mouth water at the sight.

You slid off the bed and down on your knees, looking up at him.

His mouth was slightly agape as he stared down at you, fingers brushing through your already disheveled hair.

Smiling you took his cock in one hand, pumping it a few times. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as his head tilted backwards.

Chuckling, your tongue licked from bottom to head, his hand gripping your hair almost painfully at the sensation.

Your tongue circled his sensitive head a few times, brushing through the slit, eliciting a moan from him.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, as your head bobbed up and down, hollowing your cheeks.

He hissed, as his hand started to guide your moves. Saliva dribbled down your chin, but you didn't care. He pushed deeper, making you gag and he groaned, doing it again as he looked down at you.

Tears stung in your eyes, your free hand rubbing your clit. Moaning around his shaft he moaned as well, fucking your mouth.

When he suddenly tugged your head back, his cock popping out of your mouth, he helped you back onto the bed.

"I wanna come inside you." Biting your lip at the thought, you slid up on the bed, him following, after putting on a condom. Lying on top of you again, he kissed you, tongue meeting yours.

His hands roamed your body, body's pressed together. He pumped himself a few times, looking in your eyes as he waited for permission.

Nodding you gave him your okay.

Slowly, he inched forward, stretching you deliciously. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades, as you watched him go deeper and deeper.

When he was fully inside you he waited a moment, before he slowly moved back out, only to ramm back inside you.

Moaning loudly your head tilted backwards, exposing your neck. Kissing down your throat, he started to fuck you.

You fell into a steady rhythm, getting deeper with each thrust. "Fuck, your so tight." he mumbled and you clenched down on him, making him hiss in return.

His lips found yours again, his fingers brushing over your clit causing you to buckle into him. Chuckling, his thumb drew figure eights on it, eliciting even more moans from you.

You were puddy under him, a moaning mess ready to shatter at his hands.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, taking him even deeper, as he gained speed. Breathing out his name, you tried to warn him of your impending high.

Smirking, he looked down at you, as he drove you towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he whispered into your ear, and so you did.

Falling of the edge you screamed his name, back arching off the mattress. Clenching around him, pure bliss pulsed through you, blinding you momentarily.

He followed closely, as your clenching did the rest, moaning your name. Riding you through your highs, his lips brushed your pulse point, before he stilled.

Breathing heavily he pulled out, causing you to whimper at the emptiness.

Chuckling he lay down beside you, catching his breath as you did the same.

It was silent for a while, in which he discarded of the condom, before you swallowed, looking at your watch. "Fuck!" you breathed out, causing him to look back at you, brows furrowed.

"I have to get home, otherwise I won't be able to make it to work in time tomorrow." you explained, sending him a crooked smile.

Nodding, seeming a little disappointed though, he sat up. "Yeah, I totally get that." he spoke, standing up and starting to collect your things. You did the same, only then realizing that your panties were somewhere at his front door.

Blushing, you dressed, as he did the same, before he awkwardly walked you to the door, where you picked up your ruined panties.

Huffing a laugh you shook your head, bunching the fabric in your fist. "Uhm, I don't know how to get home." you told him, cheeks reddening even more.

"Right." he nodded, searching for his keys. "I'll drive you." Eyes widening, you looked at him. "Oh, you don't have to do that!" you said, but he shook his head. "I insist on it."

Smiling gratefully you nodded. "Okay, thank you."

The drive to your apartment was a little awkward, but you decided to make the best of it.

"I mean, now that you know where I live, maybe you want to come over sometime?" you offered, biting your lip. "For a round two, you know?"

He chuckled, smiling. "Yeah, maybe."

When you arrived, he made sure you got in safely, before saying goodbye and parting ways.

You hoped he would eventually take you up on your offer. The sex you had only minutes ago, was the best you had in a long time.

When the alarm went off the next morning, you felt like you'd been run over by a bus.

You hadn't slept that much, given the time you were home and lay awake, but you had no other choice than to get up, shower, brush your teeth and get ready.

Driving towards the LAPD your fingers nervously drummed on the steering wheel. It was your first day and you didn't know who'd be your TO for the next year.

Would he or she be nice? Or would you get one of those that liked to make their rookies suffer?

Getting inside you made your way to the locker room, changing into your uniform, before walking into the conference room, where the others were already waiting.

Brushing over your neatly done hair, your gaze wandered over the already seated officers, before it abruptly stopped.

There, between two women, sat Tim.

Your one night stand Tim.

Eyes widening you pleaded for him not to turn in your direction, but he did exactly that, like he heard your silent prayer.

His eyes widened as his gaze fell on you, mouth agape.

Cheeks reddening, trying to catch your breath you walked toward the seats in the front row, sitting down.

This couldn't be happening.

Before you could have thought more about it, the watch commander, Sergeant Grey, entered the room.

The other rookies stood up front and you did the same, trying to forget Tim for a moment.

"We got some new blood this morning." Sergeant Grey started, hands on his waist. "After six months together in the academy, you've earned the right to be here, but you'll have to prove yourself to stay. The way we do things matters. Protocol and tradition are the metal, from which every cop in this city is forged."

As he talked, you tried your best not to let your gaze wander towards Tim. His eyes seemed to burn holes into your skin, as you tried to concentrate on Sergeant Grey.

"Understand?" he wanted to know. "Yes, sir." you all gave back. "Sit down." he then told you. You did as you were told, breathing in deeply.

"It's time for playing the officer match game." Grey continued, reading on a paper. "Our contestants are Alec Miller, Y/N Y/L/N and Richard Stevens. And the winners are: Officer Harper, you get Alec Miller. Officer Lopez, you get Richard Stevens. And Officer Bradford, you get Y/N Y/L/N, who's looking like she just saw a ghost."

Laughter erupted, as your gaze fell on Tim. His teeth grit and you got the feeling, that he was Officer Bradford.

"Now hear me: Today is your first day, don't let it be your last." Grey explained, causing your gaze to snap back to him. "Forget the academy, listen to your TO's. They'll teach you the way it should be done. That's it."

You flinched, as his hands made contact with the pult rather loudly.

Again, this couldn't be happening.

Trying to calm your racing heart down, you stood, bracing yourself for meeting your TO.

"Hello boot, I'm Officer Tim Bradford." he introduced himself like you'd never met before, as he stood in front of you. "Nice to meet you, sir." you played along, doing your best not to look away.

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him.

As he told you the basics, like your task to get the bags and stuff, your mind drifted off briefly. He must have noticed, because he stopped talking, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Did you even listen to what I told you the last few minutes?" he wanted to know, his tone cold and harsh. Flinching you nodded. "I did, sir."

Praying for him not to test you about what he explained to you (you probably wouldn't have passed that test), you entered the shop.

He was driving, telling you a few things you had to keep in mind when sitting in the shop. "This is you work place." he told you. Nodding, you buckled up, suppressing a sigh.

This would surely get awkward.

Leaving the garage it grew silent, as he drove and you looked out the window, not sure what to say.

If you were even supposed to say something in the first place.

"You left something in my car." he suddenly broke the silence, not looking at you, though. Racking your brain you tried to remember what he meant, as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Your, uh, your panties." he then said, and you swore his cheeks turned pinkish.

Eyes widening you gasped, not having noticed that your panties were even missing.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." you told him, cheeks growing hot. This only made the situation ten times more awkward.

He nodded slightly, swallowing, but didn't say any more.

It crackled, as the radio turned on. "Adam-7-19, we have a 10-67 at Burlington Street." It fell silent again, as Tim grabbed the mic. "Adam-7-19, taking over. Code four." he gave through, changing course.

"Suspicious person." you mumbled to yourself, but he heard you. "Person calling for help." he corrected you harshly. "10-66 is suspicious person. You need to know the codes so you'll be ready when you arrive!"

Brows furrowing you looked at him. "You can't expect me to know every single code already." you gave back, not caring that he was your TO.

He slammed the break - luckily you were on an empty street as your body jerked forward, only being held back by the seat belt.

"What did you just say?" he wanted to know, turning towards you in his seat. "I'm your TO and I rate you every single day. If you don't know the codes correctly, you need to learn them. If you don't know them by next week, you're out."

Mouth agape you stared at him in shock.

He was one of those TO's, that let their rookies suffer.

"Wow." you breathed out, leaning back against the window. "Wouldn't have expected you to be such an asshole, after last night."

You shouldn't have said that.

You really shouldn't.

His hands balled into fists, teeth gritted. You saw that he wanted to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes bored holes into yours.

Suddenly he sat back in his seat, starting to drive again.

Cocking a brow you shook your head. Sure, he was your TO, but did he really have to treat you like that?

"Can I ask you a question?" you wanted to know, looking at him as he drove. He simply nodded, motioning for you to go ahead.

"Are you like this with all your rookies?" you wanted to know, elbow resting on the door. "Like what?" he gave back, brows furrowing. "Shall I really repeat myself?" you retorted, cocking a brow at him.

Huffing, he shook his head.

"I treat a rookie based on his needs." he explained. "Wow, last night I was tight, now I'm dumb." you concluded, shaking your head.

His gaze snapped to yours briefly, before it fixed on the street again. "I'm sorry, what?" he wanted to know, sounding almost angry.

Your brows rose, as you bit your lip.

Yeah, definitely shouldn't have said that either.

"Nothing, forget it." you mumbled, fumbling with your belt.

It grew quiet, as you noticed that you might have gone overboard. It was your first day and he had the power to make it your last.

"What happened last night won't repeat." he clarified, not looking at you. Swallowing, you nodded.

Of course it wouldn't. You were his rookie now, after all.

Or boot, like he had called you earlier.

"I would be glad if we could just forget that it happened." he told you. Taking a deep breath you huffed. "Will be hard to find a comparison, though." you spoke without thinking,

Covering your face with your hands, you wanted to apologize for your inability to keep your mouth shut, but he was faster. "Yeah, I know." he mumbled, biting his cheek.

Your brows shot high at his words, biting your lip.

Damn it, he was smoking hot, your one night stand and now he was your trainer as well. Not thinking about the sex you had last night would be hard.

Speaking off, you felt how your cheeks grew hot.

God damn it.

You were doomed.

-> Part two

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

It was another competion the entire family all shoving and pushing each other into the car to see more of Damian's art.

Tim is excited for Damian.

He knows what it's like, to stand there and have no one show up. To be there all by yourself for hours the only one to visit your booth being the art teacher.

Ms. Carrington who would ask questions and ignore the tears that pooled in his eyes before helping him pack everything up, sometimes even driving him home because of course neither his parents or Bruce could be bothered to pick him up.

He can't really help the envy that he can feel building in his chest mixing with a good chunk of repressed anger.

A elbow being jabbed into his ribs distracts him.

"Hey what's with the face? Perk up Boy-Loser it's Damian's night."

He turns to Steph the smile that he had been attempting to plaster on falling. It's such a stupid thing it's a nickname so what if it's demeaning, he gets called pretender or replacement by Jason what does it matter.

"Do you ever think it's kinda fucked up that not a single person in this family calls me anything that isn't an insult?" He snaps.

She looks shocked. How fucking dare he have an ounce of self esteem. Someone alert the Media Tim Drake isn't a dormat.

He turns away sliding into the crowd.

There's less then half an hour left before he can leave. Pratically throwing himself down in the empty hallway as far as he can get from this entire night.

"Baby bird and Timmy aren't insults? Or are they I can't seem to keep up with the kids these days."

He turns, of course. You might be able to run from Batman or lie to him, but you can never escape the grasp of Big Brother Nightwing.

"So your admitting that your old?" he joins the banter.

His muscles start to unclench another superpower only Dick Grayson seems to have.

"Never, something you want to talk about?"

Does he? No. Should he? Yah.

"Maybe I just don't want be insulted every day of my life. So weird who doesn't want to be reminded they suck?"

He can hear the whine, he can also hear that everything he just said isn't gonna matter. You don't take whiny little boys seriously. And that's what he is.

"Hmm you know I get called Dickhead or really a lot of just penis related jokes. Always hated them not that it really stops anyone."

He looks finally making eye contact with his big brother. Because he's right. How many times has he heard anyone in the family other than him and Damian call Dick anything nice. Never not once. Maybe Bruce but he can't really picture it.

"Also don't think I didn't notice how annoyed you are with Bruce about this entire night, which I don't blame you for. You know I love Damian kiddo, but yah Bruce is not winning a mug from me or you."

He doesn't really want to acknowledge any of that already exhausted and he will have to apologize to Steph and if he opens the box it will be a car ride from hell home.

"Luckily for you I have a car parked a block up we can escape get ice cream and have a nice sleepover in bludhaven."

He wants to so bad, he wants to throw himself at Dick who knows him so well, who followed him out here, who isn't blinking, the only adult who has ever not somehow fucked him over.

"What about Damian? He will be pissed at me for stealing you or something. He doesn't need another reason to stab me."

He turns to look back at the floor.

"Foolish Drake I will be coming with you Father is being insesently annoying and I much rather talk about art with someone who has a brain cell."

Both him and Dick whip around to see Damian standing there a slight blush on his face hesitation making the corner of mouth twitch. He sees Dick looking on unsure. He doesn't hesitate.

"Thank god I know a great place with that Vegan Cookie Dough you like. What you waiting for Big Bird? Let's go. "

Climbling to his feet he grabs Dick and Damian dragging them to the exit he hears Dick's confused muttering sharing a secret smile with Damian before ignoring it.

The night is finally looking up.

[wondersinwaynemanor]

that time when Jason and Damian worked together in "spoiling" Tim to make up for the "murder attempts" they did to their sleep-deprived brother.

Tim wakes up from his room: What the fu- I don't remember how I got here.

Tim sees Jason and Damian casually reading by the corner of his room.

Tim: What are you two doing in my room???

Damian: Drake's up. Told you he's alive.

Jason: Oh, thank fuck. I thought you died.

Tim: What are you guys...

Tim recalls a few events from last night.

Tim: What did you put in my coffee, Jason????

Jason: Not my formula. It's the brat's.

Damian crosses his arms, looking like a mini Bruce: I believe we deserve a thank you, Drake. Tt.

Tim: A thank you for drugging me???

Jason: You aren't sleeping, Timmy. And you're just as stubborn like the rest of this family, so it was the best option.

Damian: Agreed.

Tim groans: I knew I had a bad feeling. No one is fucking touching my coffee ever again!!!

as soon as Tim stands up from the bed, both Jason and Damian immediately goes to either side of him, holding both of his arms.

Tim: Um... What are you guys doing?

Jason: Making sure you're alright.

Damian: We're merely guiding you.

Tim: Guiding me to the bathroom? I don't recall getting injured from last night. Unless you also added a another formula for that.

Jason opens the door of the bathroom while Damian's tiny arm is around Tim's waist.

by the time Tim is done freshening up for the morning, Damian is still in his room.

Tim: Dami, honestly, what's going on-

Damian: It's the hour for breakfast, Drake. Come now.

Tim: But I'm not hungry-

Damian: No buts. *he goes behind Tim and pushes him towards the door*

Damian is pulling Tim's arm until they arrive at the kitchen.

Jason is wearing an apron and putting food on the table.

Tim smiles: Jay, you're cooking for everyone? That's actually nice of you.

Jason: For everyone? Nah, only for you, Timbers.

Damian: Sit, Drake. *he pats the seat beside the one he's sitting on*

Tim complies: So, when am I going to hear the joke? Dick, come out now! We get it, we're bonding. Bruce, you on this too? I know this is what you want!

Jason and Damian look at each other.

Jason: What the fuck are you talking about, Tim?

Damian: Don't be silly, Drake. Now let's eat.

Tim starts to eat: You should know you are both creeping me out. But this is great. Thank you, Jay.

Jason shrugs as he's eating too: It's nothing.

Dick and Bruce peer from the entrance of the kitchen.

Dick has a wide smile on his face: I didn't think they were gonna go through with this. Although, the sleeping antidote...

Bruce: Was over the top.

Dick: I mean, Timmy isn't good at the sleeping category, B. So, how long do you think they're gonna do this?

Bruce smiles lightly: They're both full of determination. It's hard knowing.

Later at night before patrol.

Tim screams from the changing rooms: JAY!!! DAMI!! I CAN'T CHANGE WITH YOU GUYS AROUND!!! ENOUGH OF THIS!!!

Nightwing and Batman already on their suits by the batcomputer.

Batman: You lost, Chum.

Nightwing: Aw man. Guess I underestimated my brothers. But I do admit, it's nice seeing them working it out.

Batman smiles lightly: It is.

and good luck to the criminals who would come across Red Robin tonight, thinking they can hurt him cus Red Hood and Robin are going to beat the shit out of them. together.