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mangoisms · 10 months

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circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter one: on my way to circle k

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.3k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

The Slurpee machine is broken again.

It isn’t that big of an issue, not particularly world-ending, no, especially since you get regularly held at gunpoint (or knifepoint) and occasionally used as a hostage.

But for you, working the night shift from eleven PM to seven AM, you kind of need the sugar boost. The Slurpees are easier on your stomach than the coffee is. Even if they do stain your mouth.

You sigh, continuing to stare at the machine; it whirs and sputters strangely and you set aside the cup to shut it off. You’ll also need to file the paperwork for it to be fixed. That seriously blows.

You get it unplugged just as the gust of wind hits.

You stumble. Shelves groan in protest. Several rows of granola bars and trail mix are sent flying.

Oh, great, who is it now—

You hear your name in a question, from a very familiar voice.

You spit out a mouthful of your hair. “Flash?”

Sure enough, in the flesh, the Flash grins at you, blue lightning fading from his body. He spreads his arms as he exclaims your name again.

In a blink, he is there, arms wrapping around you, lifting you off the ground as he squeezes the life out of you. Another blink and you’re on the ground, looking at him, his hand on your shoulder.

“Look at you, kid. It’s good to see you. I can’t believe you’re still working here.”

A stupid grin forms on your lips. “It’s not the same here without you eating up our inventory.”

He laughs. “I bet!”

You shake your head, fixing your hair and your shirt. Flash notices the state of the granola bars and trail mix, sends you an apologetic smile, and in the next blink, they are back on the shelves, neatly arranged.

“So, what brings you here? If you can answer that.”

He waves a hand, flitting around, emptying the sausage grill and making himself several hot dogs.

“One of the rogues got a little, shall we say, ambitious and wanted to try his luck here. Just trying to snatch him up before Batman finds out.”

“Let me guess—Trickster?”

He points a hot dog loaded with mustard and ketchup at you. “Bingo.”

“It’s dripping.”

“Aw, shit.” He shoves the rest of the hot dog in his mouth, grabs a napkin, and starts dabbing at the spot of mustard on his suit.

You watch him, amused, but also morbidly fascinated as usual at seeing him eat so much. When he finishes the hot dogs, he goes for the pizza. It makes sense when you think about it, that a guy who can run faster than the speed of light should need to eat so much, but it’s been a while since you’ve had the pleasure of watching him refuel. Six months, actually, since you returned from Keystone City.

You scratch your head. “I’m not sure why Trickster would want to come here. Batman, I think, is a worse punishment than you—”

“Agree, even if that’s also a little insulting to me.”

“Oh, you know what I mean. You’re avoiding him, aren’t you?”

Flash nods. “This is true. Carry on.”

“Well… Gotham already has a joke-themed guy. I don’t think Joker is going to take too kindly to someone encroaching on that. Unless he’s back in Arkham. Though he might’ve escaped again…”

“Y’see, that’s what I thought. It’s gonna sound bad, too, but I’m kinda hoping those two take care of each other, then I can get Trickster back to Iron Heights without any issues. But—”

You crack a smile, guessing his next words immediately. “When is it ever that easy?”

You had once believed the Flash to be just about infallible. After all, he is the Flash. This is the guy who, like you said, can run faster than the speed of light. He can canvas a city in under a minute. That’s how he takes care of Central City and Keystone City. (Well, the addition of the other Flash and Kid Flash probably help, too, but you know.)

But it’s not that easy. It’s why, you think, Metropolis has issues, even when they have Superman.

No rest for the wicked and all.

“Well, it’s still good to see you,” you say, a tad more hesitantly this time. Unsure if you can say that.

Flash looks back at you, sending you a warm smile. “It’s good to see you, too. How’s school?”

“No classes now. Financial aid doesn’t cover the summer, so.”

He frowns. “You’re still on track to graduate next year, though, right?”

You pause, surprised he remembered you saying that. “Yeah, yeah, I am.”

Flash nods, worries assuaged, then his gaze strays to the Slurpee machine, its lights turned off. “Aw, it’s not working?”

“Not today, sorry.”

He purses his lips, head tilting as he looks at the counter where the machine and your abandoned cup are.

“Wait a second,” he says, then the food that was in his hands is on the counter and he’s gone with arcs of blue lightning following him, a tingly feeling spreading through your fingertips and toes, like when you used to be a kid and dragged your hands across those old TV screens, feeling the static.

True to his word, in the next second, he is in front of you, two Slurpees in hand. One blue raspberry and another cherry.

You grin as he proudly presents the blue raspberry Slurpee to you.

“Thanks.”

He winks. “My pleasure.”

He collects his food again then gestures to the front with his head. Sipping at the ice-cold Slurpee, you follow him, sliding behind the counter.

“Time to head off?” you guess, ringing up the food he already ate, then the rest of the stuff.

He slips out a few bills from a hidden pocket at his hip. “Yeah, I need to go before—”

“Flash!” The door opens roughly. You balk as you see who it is. “Seriously? You can’t just run off. You’re just as bad as Impulse sometimes, I swear.”

Red Robin stands there, hands on his hips, scowling, doing a good impression of a teacher scolding a student, which is really weird for you, since you’ve always held a good dose of fear and respect for the Bats and this doesn’t really… go on par with that. And also, you’re pretty sure Flash is older than him.

Flash frowns. “Now that’s seriously uncalled for. I’m much better than he is. We were done talking, weren’t we? You’d call me if you found anything and it’s not like it would take me time to get there, would it?”

Red Robin doesn’t respond to that, mostly because he’s looking at you now. You’ve never seen him up close — any of them up close. Black fair falls sharply over his forehead, a black domino mask hiding his eyes. Not like a normal one; this one allows for more coverage under his eyes, going down to his nose, the end of which curves in a way reminiscent of a bird. But under the bright fluorescents of Circle K, everything else is easy to make out. Pale skin, a sharp jaw, a soft-looking mouth.

Great. He’s hot. And something else… something that niggles at you. Familiar in a way that bothers you because you’ve never seen him in person. Not like this.

You swallow nervously, giving him a half-hearted wave. The action jars him and he looks away from you quickly.

“Hey, don’t be mean to her,” Flash chides. “Seriously. Look at her. You’ve made her nervous.”

“Flash.”

He shoots you a troublesome grin. “Nah, don’t worry about him, kid. He’s harmless.”

“Flash,” Red Robin hisses out, his voice sounding stranger than before, modulated, in a way.

You compose yourself, giving Flash a look. “You know better than that. Perception means everything.”

“That is true,” he says. “But believe me. If fear worked as well as they’d like it to, Gotham would be the safest city in the country.”

A long-suffering sigh. Red Robin is turned away now and by the movement of his arm, pinching the bridge of his nose, exasperated.

“Hey, I’m not wrong,” he says to him, even despite you silently waving for him to drop it. “Look, fear is fine and all. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with nurturing relationships with the people you protect. That’s what I did with you, isn’t it, kid?”

“Yeah, but I’m also not, you know, from there…”

He collects his change. “Which is why it’s even more embarrassing that these guys make you nervous and I don’t.”

Red Robin huffs.

Flash shrugs, smirking. “Just food for thought. I’ll see you around, yeah, kiddo? Gotta get going before this guy gets annoyed enough to just tell Batman about me and then I’ll really have problems.”

Then he’s gone, blue lightning arcing in his wake. Red Robin sighs again and leaves without a word or backward glance.

You stand there for a minute, unsure if that really happened. But the signature Slurpee cup of blue raspberry, already sweating because the June heat in Gotham is unbearable and the AC is not up to task, assures you very much that that did just happen.

A little unsteady, you take a seat on the stool, shaking your head and dragging the cup to you.

At least you got to see Flash again.

You don’t see him again, which is what you expected.

What you don’t expect is the appearance of Red Robin the next night.

You’ve grown up in Gotham City. Like anyone else, you have a healthy dose of fear and respect for the vigilantes that prowl the shadows. You also, unlike Vicki Vale or any journalist or obsessive conspiracy theorist, have absolutely zero interest in interacting with them.

Usually, interacting with them means you are in grave danger.

(You had to unlearn some of that during your brief tenure in Keystone City; the Flash was a little bit different from them. Maybe more than a little bit…)

So, when Red Robin shows up at Circle K at half past one in the morning, you are… a tad wary.

It doesn’t help that he seems awkwardly frozen, too, as your voice catches in the middle of your perfunctory Hi, welcome in as you realize who it is.

For a minute, it is painfully, painfully quiet.

“Is there something—”

“Do you have any—”

You both stop. You purse your lips. Red Robin is… blushing a little bit? Holy shit.

“Go ahead,” he says, clearing his throat after. His voice still sounds off like yesterday—modulated.

You grimace. “Sorry, I was just asking if there was something going on? Should I lock down the shop or hide or something?”

He looks briefly confused. “No? I mean, no… Everything is fine. I was just wondering if you guys had any, uh—” he seems to falter, scrambling a little bit “—hot… chocolate?”

Hot chocolate in June? What a weirdo.

You keep your face straight, though.

Flash might’ve let you off the hook when it came to formalities but you’d be an idiot to think you could get away with that with these guys.

He exhales the briefest laugh at something, then—you, you realize, your expression, which should be perfectly polite, what the hell. He turns his head away as a smile curls his lips. That niggling feeling—which began as soon as you realized he was here—strengthens. You push it away for a second.

“I know. Late night. Don’t like coffee, so it’s a good alternative.”

How did he—?

Must be the detective thing.

You apologize anyway.

“Sorry. My, uh, friend’s like that, in a way,” you say, your tongue again moving faster than your brain can grapple with. He won’t care about the fact that your friend, Tim, is like that, too. Well, Tim likes the occasional energy drink if he’s staying up late because he doesn’t like coffee. Not this hot chocolate business. But maybe? Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually. Probably better than Red Bull, even if he doesn’t drink it often, maybe once or twice a month. And, anyway, it’s not the point. This guy doesn’t care. He probably couldn’t care less. You’re just trying to show him—oh, it doesn’t matter. This entire thing has gone straight to shit. All because he managed to read your judgment.

“Oh?” It’s a question but it’s a bit strangled. See? He doesn’t care. Poor guy. Probably trying to think of a way to get out of this. Well, you’ll do him one better.

“Uh, yeah… he’s—well. Doesn’t matter. Yeah, the machine is working. It’s over there.”

“Thanks.”

You nod and glance away, leaving him to cross to the other side of the store. You can’t help but watch him go, watching the way the heavy black cape swishes with his movements, boots soundless on the shitty tiled floors. He disappears behind the shelf, but his head is visible. A head of dark, dark hair that seems… familiar to you.

Ugh. What is with you?

It’s Red freakin’ Robin. You’ve glimpsed him and the others briefly. Shadows in the night, swinging from buildings, jumping from rooftops. Anybody who lives in Gotham long enough has seen the same. Doesn’t mean you know him enough to be this way, to be so bothered by something that won’t even come to mind.

You shake your head briefly.

You should think more on why he’s even here.

Though, it seems obvious, given what happened yesterday night.

Flash has a way of getting beneath your skin and inciting the most childish tendencies. You imagine his little comment about trust between vigilante and citizen bothered Red Robin.

Well, rest assured, you understand the position they are in. You enjoyed the way Flash visited you but they can’t afford that. Perception is gold. It is true, in some ways, that if it were as effective as they wanted it to be, Gotham would be less crime-ridden than it currently is.

(But that was also a conundrum with the corrupt government. So long as the systems were in place, crime would always happen, and it would take more than the Bats to fix that.)

Either way, they cannot afford for that mask to slip—metaphorically and literally.

There is a level of trust, you think, between the Bats and the people but… it’s not the same kind Flash fosters with his own.

You feel obligated to let Red Robin know that, with that, he has no obligation to do anything out of the ordinary.

So, that’s what you do when he comes back over to the counter, two small cups of hot chocolate in hand.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

He turns forward with a five dollar bill in hand. “I can’t just not pay—”

“I’m not talking about that.”

He is paying. You are moderately appreciative of what they do but not that appreciative.

“So, what else is it that I don’t have to do?”

You gesture between you two. “This. Come here to try and prove the Flash wrong.”

“I’m not—”

You try to level with him.

“It’s cool, man. He can be annoying. Annoying enough that he could make anyone want to prove him wrong. I get it. But he’s also a little bit of a doof when it comes to matters of the public. Though I’m betting he was trying to aggravate you more than anything. Either way, I get it. You have an image to keep up. Do what you have to do.”

“So, you don’t want me to come back?” Not an accusation. A genuine question.

You blink. “That’s not what I said. I don’t mind. I’m just… letting you know.”

“What do you know about it, anyway? Upholding an image? You seem very confident on the do’s and don’ts, despite being a civilian.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You guys actually refer to us non-vigilantes as civilians? Like, unironically?”

He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at you with the emotionless white lids of the domino mask, lips pressed in a line.

You smile and roll your eyes, finally taking his five and opening the register. “I’m majoring in communication with a concentration in PR. Did an internship at Quickstart Enterprises last semester working with their PR department. You can say I know a thing or two about it.”

“What year?”

“Just finished my third. Starting my final in the fall. Look, I’m not saying you have to take my advice, I just wanted you to know. That’s all. I’m not holding it against you.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

You slide his change to him. “That’s all I ask.”

He picks up the cups, says, “Keep the change,” and then, he’s gone, dark cape fluttering, his figure swallowed up by the darkness of the night.

The only traces of his presence is the door slowly closing and the change still sitting on the counter.

These hero-types and their dramatic exits. Honestly.

You meet the Flash in your second week of work at Circle K.

The stipend from QE covered your housing and groceries but didn’t allow for much options regarding the latter. At least not the fresh produce kind.

So, you picked up a job at Circle K. Part-time only, which worked well with the schedule you had at QE. You typically worked evenings—not the graveyard shift you do now, which you took only because it paid better during the night—so from seven to eleven.

The Flash was different from the Bats in that regard. While Signal worked during the day, the rest of them worked during the night.

Flash told you he liked sleep, so he would take care of things during a reasonable hour in the evening to accommodate that, which meant you were beheld to his presence.

Frequently.

And the first time…

You have no idea what to make of the superhero currently raiding the sausage grill.

A larger part of you is suspicious, hoping that the Flash isn’t about to come up to you and say something arrogant about not being required to pay. A lot of the cops you get say something to that effect. It takes so much willpower in you to not roll your eyes.

But another part of you right now, the Tim part of your brain, is fascinated. Wants to ask some geeky questions about his power. Presumably, the fact that he is the fastest man alive means he has to eat a lot to sustain it, right?

Well. That one is a bit self-explanatory. At least if the way he’s stuffing his face tells you anything.

Suspicion wins out, though.

Keystone City is a nice enough city. Central City, across the river, is the same. They aren’t Gotham, that’s for sure, and sometimes you don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s mostly that Keystone City is situated in Kansas and across the Mississippi, in Mississippi, is Central City. These regions of the country, historically conservative, make you a bit tetchy. Not at all helped by the fact that for a very long time, Keystone City was suspended in the fifties. Or rather, what they thought were the fifties. Time passed normally outside of it until the Flash fixed everything.

It gives Keystone an aesthetic old-timey vibe to it but with all the modern luxuries of the late 2010s, like phones and, you know, civil rights.

But things have been okay, for the most part. The people you encounter here at Circle K are amiable enough. (Well, except for the cops you get. You could go without dealing with those idiots.)

Though, admittedly, between work for QE and here and trying to keep yourself fed and (mostly) rested, you haven’t gotten out much.

The Flash, though… you haven’t directly encountered him. Not in your few weeks here. Sometimes when walking to the subway, you feel the sharp gust of wind, commonly associated with him as he makes his way through the city faster than a speeding bullet, glass windows and cars rattling dangerously in the aftermath of his path. On the news, when he takes down whichever rogue woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and in the newspaper. But nothing beyond that.

People speak fondly of him, for the most part. Rumors are solid sources of information but you just can’t help but be a little bit suspicious. There is such a thing as too good to be true, after all…

You reach for your half-empty cup of blue raspberry Slurpee. Though it’s the beginning of September, summer takes longer to leave the midwest, you’ve learned, and the summers here are loads worse than ones you’ve experienced in Gotham.

Before you can even get your mouth around the red straw, a breeze hits and you blink, finding the Flash in front of you, depositing mostly empty cartons of hot dogs onto the counter, with a few of them still full. On their way to being empty, though, as he crams more into his mouth. A cup of cherry Slurpee finishes it off.

The Flash points a half-eaten hot dog at you. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“No, no, not like that. You’ve just got this suspicion to you. This… paranoia. A paranoia that can only belong to someone from Gotham,” he says, nodding to himself.

Well, that’s—

Hm.

A bit embarrassed to be caught out like that—because it isn’t the first time—you attempt to make up for it.

“I’m from Metropolis, actually.”

Best to stay on the east coast. Even you couldn’t pass as someone from the west coast, like Star City or Coast City or something.

Flash grins at you. “Liar.”

You aren’t used to this kind of playful banter. Certainly not from a literal superhero, from someone who regularly saves the world with the likes of Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman and more. You don’t think you expected the cold brutality the city gets from the Bats back home but… you didn’t expect this, either.

To get a much-needed sense of normalcy, you scan one of the hot dog cartons, adding them up on the screen.

“Was it that obvious? I wasn’t trying to be… I mean, I was, but, you know, I didn’t, um…”

You stop, cringing. Very eloquent and more than a little annoying, given your career choice. Can’t be like that when you get put on the spot. Even if it’s by a superhero. Especially if it’s by a superhero. Journalists are even worse, anyway…

“Relax, kid,” he laughs. “To tell you the truth, it was hard to miss but I’m sort of geared for that kind of thing, what with my choice in career.”

“Right.” You scan the Slurpee and take a drink of yours while he fiddles with some zipper in his suit. A deep red, with a purple tinge, a silver Flash symbol on his chest, and a cowl, but with the top free, showing off a shock of red hair, and his eyes still exposed. Pretty green.

“But I do have an unfair advantage,” he goes on. “I see a similar look every time I have a League meeting.”

You blink. “The League…?”

“You should know. Your caped crusader, Batman. Of course, that’s also because he doesn’t like me—and the feeling is mutual, trust me—but, you know. Schematics. He sits right across from me and that’s all I get, this classic brand of Gothamite suspicion on top of the usual wordless Batman disapproval.”

“Should you be telling me that?”

He hands you a twenty. You pop open the register to break it. Another breeze hits and the empty cartons of hot dogs are shoved into the trash, with him eating the last one and on his way to finishing the large cup of cherry-flavored Slurpee.

“I mean, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” you say lightly, calculating his change. “I could go to the press. Breaking News: Strife within the League. Tenuous relations between Batman and the Flash.”

“Oh, really?”

“That’s the press. A common dislike will absolutely turn into that in their headlines. They would take it and run.”

“That is true. You a journalist?”

“Oh, no. Communications, with a concentration in public relations.”

Flash thinks on it for a second, finishing his hot dog, then the Slurpee. You partially expect him to get angry. It would be a justified reaction. He doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You can admit that some of what you just said is a bit… imperious. Who are you to lecture him, right?

“You aren’t wrong,” he finally says, repeating his earlier words as the last hot dog carton and Slurpee cup disappear from the counter—thrown in the trash.

“But,” he presses, accepting the change from you—a few dollars—then dropping it into your tip jar. “I know you aren’t going to take that to the press.”

“How’s that?”

He points at you. “Because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to do that.”

“You’re appealing to my morals?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“Not much work to be had,” you admit. “I was never going to. I was just…”

“Being nice and telling me I should watch what I say,” he finishes, grinning. “Which is true. All true. I just couldn’t help myself. What’s your name, kid?”

You tell him. He extends a hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Keystone City. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

A bit bemused, you nod politely and say, “Thanks.”

Before he can say anything else, he visibly tenses, lifting a hand to the Hermes-like wings at his ears, then, in the next blink, he is gone, off to stop someone or something, leaving you with a sharp gust of wind that rattles the windows and knocks the candy from the shelves under the counter onto the ground.

Well, then.

Talk about a first impression.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers

[if you'd like to be added to the taglist (or removed), let me know here or in my inbox! ^_^]

#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake x you #red robin x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x y/n #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

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reasonsforhope · 3 months

Note

hey i get what youre trying to say with the taylor swift post but as of a few days ago shes trying to sue a college student who posts her (publicly available) flight logs. she very much does not give a shit about her carbon emissions and she shouldn’t be celebrated for her mediocre attempts to seem climate-conscious

I get what you're saying, definitely. I also did actually know about the thing with the college student when I posted that, so I wanted to give some context about why I made that post:

First, I personally didn't view it as celebrating her so much as celebrating progress. I think that if we never acknowledge wins, we'll end up dispirited very quickly

Second, recognizing when people decide to be less shitty is, at least I think, an important carrot in the carrot-and-stick dynamic of using public opinion to influence public figures

Lastly - and this may well be an unpopular opinion - but I don't actually hold her actions re: the college student against her

Why?

Well, for one, it was a cease and desist letter, not an attempted lawsuit. A cease and desist letter isn't legally binding, nor is it the start of a lawsuit - it's more like she's Putting Him On Notice. A cease and desist order can be followed by a lawsuit, if it's ignored, but it doesn't initiate one. Likely Taylor Swift will try several other steps of resolution before actually telling her lawyers to sue this guy, if only because the headlines would Not look good (x, x)

But more than that, I don't hold it against her because when Taylor Swift says that it's a matter of life and death for her, I believe that's very true.

Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not mad about her flight data being up either. And I'm not particularly a fan of Taylor Swift

But I also think that if I had to read through the rape and death threats she gets on an almost-certainly-daily basis, I'd want to vomit.

And I think that was true before Trump and his minions got obsessed with the idea that she's the keystone in the next Biden-election-stealing Pentagon psyops plot. Now - especially in the days right before the Superbowl, when this alleged conspiracy is supposed to happen - I don't even want to think about the brutality of the threats she's receiving

(For anyone going "Uh, wtf?" about the MAGA Superbowl Taylor Swift conspiracy thing, yes, I hate to inform you that it's A Whole Thing. More info here: x, x, x, x, x, x)

Taylor Swift does have stalkers, and now she has a bunch of MAGA paramilitary conspiracy theorists absolutely furious with her. If I were her, I'd want to do every single thing I could to keep information on my movements and in-the-moment location off the internet, too

tl;dr: I don't necessarily think she cares about the environment, but I'm not mad at her for sending a cease and desist letter because I think without her extensive security, she would be in real danger now, including possibly danger of being killed by armed MAGA conspiracy theorists

You're allowed to be mad at her and dislike her (obviously!), you're allowed to totally disagree with my attitude toward the cease and desist. I just wanted to share my rationale for including the post (and it is something I went back and forth on tbh)

#Anonymous #ask #me #taylor swift #celebrities #private jets #planes #cw rape mention #cw vomit mention #cw stalking #sidenote I'm really not sure why “she's going to endorse Joe Biden at the Superbowl” counts as a conspiracy theory #much less worth KILLING HER over #but they're straight up going on about her being an official asset for pentagon psyops #so #apparently it is #edited quickly to reflect the fact that she's accused of being a pentagon psyop asset #not a deep state member #literally only because she's not in any kind of official political anything I'm sure

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haphazardlyannotated · 9 months

Text

So I was thinking about how Steven, Connie and Stevonnie all have a duet with one of the main Crystal Gems and I realised how masterfully these songs are deployed to tell us things about them.

First of all, On The Run for Steven and Amethyst.

Amethyst is the Crystal Gem who relates the most to Steven's experiences and vice versa. They're both the 'juniors' in their household, they've both been struggling with being respected by the older Crystal Gems for a while now, and though Amethyst is very much Steven's guardian when it comes down to it, she's also Steven's peer in a way that Garnet and Pearl just aren't even when they try to include Steven.

And now this song sets them up as parallels in other contexts, too. They're both from earth! They both don't wholly belong in one category (Steven as a half gem, half human, Amethyst as a Crystal Gem who never fought in the rebellion and whose existence runs against the Crystal Gems' original wishes for Earth), and as we are about to learn, they both came into existence at the cost of other life and might harbour guilt about it, even though they had literally no say in this.

And then later on they continue to be parallels, especially in season 3 (though they share the child of divorce energy during the Sardonyx Arc). They both compare themselves to impossible standards of what they 'should' be (Steven to the idea of Rose, Amethyst to Jasper) and it is their recognition of their own struggles in each other that allows them to at least partially overcome them. No wonder Smoky Quartz is Steven's first fusion with another gem!

Next up: Do It For Her, sung by Pearl and Connie.

Speaking of parallels! It's pretty obvious watching the episode that Pearl is spending some time in projection city regarding absolute devotion to a beloved, if not revered partner, but she might actually be closer to the truth in some respects than she realises.

Remember Lion 2: The Movie? When Connie said that she didn't understand why Steven would hang out with someone as normal as her? Doesn't this remind us of someone else who feels like she's objectively inferior to a special (in several ways) someone? Someone who stepped out of the predetermined role she was supposed to fill to join her loved one on their dangerous path? Who lived a double life to avoid retribution from controlling authority figures? Couldn't say.

Also, they're both the knowledgable planner to their all loving goofball partner.

With all of this, I think Do It For Her both draws parallels between Pearl and Connie as well as Pearlrose and Connverse, and shows us how the example of Pearl and Rose's unresolved dysfunction could stop Steven and Connie from falling into the same trap before it was too late. I think seeing Pearl demonstrate the end of the road they were beginning to walk was what enabled Steven to step in before they got to Pearlrose's point, where Pearl was to deep in her self sacrificing mindset for Rose to reach her.

And finally, Here Comes A Thought for Garnet and Stevonnie.

First of all, obviously, Garnet and Stevonnie as an embodiment of the love and harmony between Ruby and Sapphire and Steven and Connie respectively.

It also draws parallels between Ruby and Connie and Steven and Sapphire though. (I saw a great meta about that in my lurking days, which I will link here if someone could kindly direct me to it). Sapphire and Steven as people who would rather bury negative feelings, like Sapphire tries to in Keystone Motel and Steven in... the entirety of suf to name just the most prominent one. Which of course only leads to more problems in the long run, because they haven't processed the feelings at all.

On the other hand, the comparison with Ruby draws attention to a trait of Connie's we maybe wouldn't have noticed otherwise: She is, for the lack of a better term, much more confrontational about things that make her unhappy. Just look at The New Crystal Gems.

Also, letting Ruby and Sapphire demonstrate their conflict resolution for Steven and Connie gives us an insight into what goes into keeping Garnet together through everything. Love takes work indeed. It's also worth pointing out that Connverse have been paralleled with both Pearlrose, Rupphire and (a little bit in We Need To Talk) Gregrose this way.

This show has so many layers, I swear, I'll be on my deathbed and I'll still find new nuances to write an essay about. Well done, Crewniverse.

#su #steven universe #crystal gems #su garnet #su amethyst #su pearl #su steven #connie maheswaran #stevonnie #su ruby #su sapphire #pearlrose #connverse #rupphire #meta #there's probably more but i'm tired and my brain is turning into cream cheese despite my vegan diet #so you get this #cheers!

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magicaldragons · 5 months

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'in the name of pain and outrage'

an analysis of the ending

I say this with utmost love, but episode 16 was a shitshow.

i walked into this show accepting it at face value – a show that would take itself lightly, with a compelling subplot marinated in humor, and a dose of sweet romance.

this show tried to include very mature, sobering themes with slapstick humor, which is definitely possible if balanced properly, but i feel this show was not able to achieve this the way do bong soon or others could.

to get some of the discrepancies out of the way:

they never told us that the women's senses were connected, geum joo should not have been able to feel namsoon's thirst – that's something they abruptly added to fuel the tension of the situation.

there is absolutely no reason nam soon would react like that to the drug, when you compare it to how every other user was affected by it.

the strength exerted by gil-joongan did not feel like enough to knock her out like that

and with how easy it would've been to leave the situation, it's very obvious that nam soon taking the drug was an ill-planned way to raise the stakes and increase suspense

the homeless couple truly had nothing of value to add to the show or it's message

none of the show's themes or messages were delivered properly towards the end, and it went against everything it preached.

the immediate tone change after ryu si-o's death did not do any justice to the effort put into his characterization

i do not understand how nam soon became a cop, all technicalities considered

why was she throwing humans out a window from the second floor, even if they're criminals??

they REALLY cheapened the whole marriage conversation by bringing money, property, and heirs into it. that was NOT romantic or wholesome. hee-sik deserves better parents, tf.

side note: i'm pretty disappointed with namsoon's character arc, but lee yoo mi worked within the purview of the script to give us honestly wonderful acting, especially in episode 15.

now, to get into the ending, i'll start with this:

what we got, felt like an empty victory. hollow and out of place.

i've always been an advocate for all parts of a show coming together to create an experience – there's usually no single keystone.

but as soon as si-o died, the rest of the episode felt like a blur, with all loose ends being succinctly wrapped up and prepared for season three. byeon woo seok, and his characterization really carried the show as a unit, and added to its cohesiveness. i did not find myself rooting for geum joo and nam soon's successes afterwards

because they had failed the ONE thing most of us had been hoping for them to do:

to save people who were victims of oppression from those with the power of money, and empower them, including to save si-o from his oppressors, and help him take down pavel.

there is no satisfaction in geum joo doing it by herself, because she has no emotional investment in destroying pavel.

losing hwaja and si-o, watching namsoon & heesik become one dimensional all of a sudden, and seeing tertiary unrelated characters having their loose ends tied, is extremely unsatisfactory – for a show that had an incredible cast and so much potential.

at the same time: i loved the portreyal of gil joongan's mission to help the elderly and her enthusiasm for her future, and the addition of binbin + looking into their past from an additional angle also really elevated the emotional context of si-o's character arc.

i loved each character, truly, and to not see the plot and writers give them the detail and care they deserve, is wholly disappointing.

the show took me on a whole journey, emotionally,,,but to know exactly what would make it better, and be aware of its discrepancies makes me grieve the potential it had to truly leave an impact on its viewers, with a solid takeaway message.

#there are so many thoughts in my head #but it's messy #just like episode 16 #strong girl nam soon #ryu sio #byeon woo seok #gang namsoon #lee yoo mi #kang heesik #ong seongwoo #kdrama

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analviel · 1 year

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You know that one post shitting on Joker? Like 'Superman gives pity laugh' because his jokes are so lame? So in the community, every city has that hero mascot right? Like the main man, usually Justice League adjacent, so if there are hero representatives, a city probably got a villain mascot. The Batkids get a lot of shit for having a lameass villain.

Dick regularly cries to Bruce about this: "Do something about this B! Don't you see your children are suffering?! Jason is being bullied by the Flashes just because they have cool villains!"

(That was very much intended pun.)

Jason, holding Barry in a head lock while shaking down Wally -with a Bat stamped glove that's glowing and producing weird staticky sounds while Barbara and Tim watch from the sidelines taking notes- as Bart cackles at them: Do you not care for us at all!

Duke, screeching at the top of his lungs: He is not the Gotham villain!

Steph: We've got the Riddler, people!

Cass: Poison Ivy.

Steph: What? No, she's got her moments but Riddler actually represents the aspects of the standard Gotham insanity. We gotta think representation Cass!

Cass: Lesbian.

Damian: If we are talking about Gotham insanity, I believe Dr. Quinzel is a much better candidate.

Tim: You only say that because she recently called herself your nemesis.

Damian: Clearly, not even insanity can blind one so much they lose all sense, as despite appearing in your time, she has seen me as the superior Robin, I have recognition in the streets, whereas what did you have other than their pity.

Tim, who has an entire Rouge's gallery who's thoughts almost immediately went to Anarky 'want to do good despite struggling in his methods', General 'generally unpleasant boy who is inclined to animals and had usurped Anarky's position by rendering him paralyzed', and Ra's Al Ghul 'Ra's Al Ghul enough said if he trips on the goddamn stairs and his Pits spontaneously combusted Tim would happily hand Jason a get Tim to do whatever you want coupon', muttering: ..... I know who my Rouge's gallery mascot is.

Barbara: What about Harvey? Literally the duality of Gotham crazies, and he was district attorney so how's that for representative.

Jason: What? Ew, no, he's white.

Dick: Was he?

Duke: Uh, you're all sleeping on Catwoman? I mean, someone says Catwoman and they think Gotham.

Cass: Someone says Riddler they have to think if it was Gotham or Keystone.

Dick: Someone says Catwoman and everyone thinks of rooftops, Batman, and a Robin shooed away to the other end of the city.

Steph: What about Zsaz?

Everyone:......

Duke: Who?

Steph: Yeah, fair.

Everyone talking over each other on which hero is really the best representative:

Damian: Should bring honor-

Tim: -monologues are at least-

Steph: The design you know, we don't want a fashion disaster-

Cass: -should compliment our mission-

Babs: -makes at least a bit of sense-

Jason: -someone I don't want to put a bullet in-

(My vote is actually on Scarecrow.)

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afniel · 6 months

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Today (on three hours of sleep which is my own fault) my partner and I got up early and got breakfast and then went to a community education seminar at a local university's educational garden about native bees, and made a wooden bee house. Our landscape designer team (two women who I'm pretty sure are queer) was there attending and it was run by a really cool woman who runs another landscaping co-op (with a nonprofit educational side) who is also working with them to teach them all the ins and outs of permaculture, and they kinda group-projected our yard, so I got to know all three of them over the course of the contract, which was cool.

It was great, you guys. We talked about the importance of supporting native pollinators, because honeybees are fine and all but outcompete native bees, some of whom are so specialized that their exact wing frequency is what it takes to pollinate a single, specific species. The world's smallest bee is 2mm at the largest and lives right here. We've got sweat bees that look like tiny flying gems. We've got bumblebees that are so docile you can gently pet them while they're gathering pollen. We have huge, harmless carpenter bees with metallic black shiny females and golden fuzzy males and they'll bonk into you just to see what you're doing.

I got to get excited about iNaturalist to a bunch of people who haven't heard about it before! I got to see thousands of honey bees just doing their business and I realized I wasn't having my usual phobic reaction anymore! I got to use a power drill! I got on the mailing list and I'm gonna see if I can't get even more involved in this kind of shit over time, because it's honestly great.

You're only one person but even little things can have an outsized impact, and it's not in turning off the water when you brush your teeth, it's in things like planting native keystone species so that the other living things that rely on it can move back in. Even in a tiny area. Animals and plants spread and have ripple effects. The same way removing a species causes a spreading collapse, bringing back a species, even just one, causes a spreading regrowth of diversity. Literally a handful of plants can support countless insects that support countless animals and this changes the environment just a little bit at a time back to a better state. It does make a difference and it doesn't have to be hard or expensive.

I get really excited about native species because as I see it, getting educated about them and making decisions to support them is what's going to locally make the biggest impact for the least money. The success stories can be literally microscopic, when it comes to things like soil microbes, but they really, really matter. One person can't fix the whole climate but one person can fix a one-person-sized patch of ground, and that's enormous when you remember that thousands of important little things spend their entire lives within even the smallest yard.

Anyway I'm tired to hell now but hey maybe next spring we'll have a bunch of big goofy carpenter bees living in the yard! Or even other native bees. I'm hype as heck to find out.

Also, and I forgot to say this so ETA, I guarantee THIS IS HAPPENING wherever you are. Look up your closest university and find out what kind of research/community gardens they have and what kind of seminars they offer. Look into your state and county conservation programs. There's outreach education all over, and a whole lot of it is donate-as-you-can, because they just want to get knowledge into the community. If you want to hear it, they want to teach it to you, and they're almost universally some of the kindest folks you're going to meet. If this sounds even a tiny bit interesting, do some searching and I would bet you anything there's opportunities right there waiting.

#conservation #permaculture #nature #native species

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radioactive-earthshine · 1 year

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I'm actually really in love with Bart from The Legion of Super Heroes in the 31st Century tie-in comics with the 2006 animated series.

We don't know exactly how much of his origin in this series is EXACTLY parallel with his comic lore but there are some similarities with a little tweak but none-the-less the implications seem to be a little sinister.

The issue opens up with Chuck (Bouncing Boy) and Luornu (Triplicate Girl) being shifted from a recreational VR simulator directly to Bart's own VR "server" (a replica of 21st century Keystone City) where he explains that he's there to get his powers under control.

Of course in his comic origins this is untrue, but it is something that the scientists charged with 'observing' him might have told him instead of the truth. Again, in this we do not know if there is any foul play going on with Bart for sure but nevertheless things are amiss.

The VR world Bart is in seems to house AI sentients and their disappearances is enough to convince Chuck and Luornu to help Bart. Where the scientists are in all of this is... questionable. It could be that Bart's origins in this are no different from the comics and he is essentially an unknowing prisoner.

What is interesting is throughout this issue they try to imply that they don't know for sure if Bart is an AI, or if he is plugged into VR, but by the end you get the impression he is plugged in like the rest of them.

The word usage they use is that he "lives" in the VR which is not inaccurate even in the comics. Bart spent the majority of his life in the 30th/31st century plugged into VR making it his home as he knew no other way of life. Bart doesn't seem to differentiate between the two as VR is his home right now.

Because thinking is involved in solving this case naturally they have to reach out to Querl for help, which solves a lot of mysteries about Bart through implication.

The way how Querl talks is interesting... and when Querl comes into all of this is when things get interesting as we get a small implication that Bart is plugged into VR, and is not just an AI.

Querl refers to Bart by his full name, no where in this issue does Bart use his full name. The fact that he says he is honored to meet him implies that Querl likely remembers Bart's origins from some annals of time due to his knowledge of history and special interest of 21st century heroes.

I also like that in this they push Bart's friendship with Querl which was a thing even in his 90s comics (as unusual as it was).

Querl reveals that he's read that he's fast, again this could mean he knows 21st century history OR he just pulled the information about Bart from the facility that is holding him, but it's likely the former due to how honored he was to meet him.

In this Querl and Bart work together in much better harmony than they did in the comics which is a delightful contrast.

Also in direct contrast to Bart's interaction with the Legionnaires in the comics, he is immediately invited to join up. This is something that comic Bart fervently wanted.

Unfortunately, he is unable to join and Bart's wording here is ominous in that they won't let him leave until he has control of his powers. If this is like his comics, that would have been never. He's still trapped in VR, timeline being a little different, maybe he doesn't have the speed aging going on in this version. Bart never was rescued and he's still in VR.

All in all a delightful take on Bart but it still leaves a lot of questions open and I am sad we never got more out of this. This little comic is like a little love letter to Bart and I 10/10 recommend reading.

The Legion of Super-Heroes in the 31st Century Issue #15

#bart allen #impulse #chuck tain #bouncing boy #luornu durgo #triplicate girl #triad #querl dox #brainiac 5 #losh #legion of super heroes #legion of super heroes 2006 #losh 2006 #my wild hcs #he could be there for reasonable motives #but i don't like that he is unable to leave until he has control #that's where it goes wrong for me

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maxfaiden · 11 months

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Keystone is celebrating Pride Month with a 30-day parade! 30 days! 30 queer OCs!

9/30: Aloysius never saw it coming. Until he did.

He looks pretty imposing until he smiles.

#aloysius #questioning #pride 2023 #queer sims #black simblr #sims of color #sims 4 #simblr #show us your sims #keystone #keystone residents #keystone: we got us

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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The Silver Dragon (20/?)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character

Word Count: 2658

Story Summary: Lady Arianwyn Targaryen, the Lady of Runestone, was seeded by her father, the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen, in an act of unbridled hatred, and borne of her mother, the late Lady Rhea Royce, as a desperate grasp at revenge.

Ignored by her father, and alone following the death of her mother, she is raised in King’s Landing alongside her cousin, Prince Aemond Targaryen. As they grow, the two find themselves indelibly bonded. But their lives are far from the fairy tales they read, and as tensions in the family rise, they find their paths may diverge.

Will they be pulled apart when the dragons dance?

Chapter Summary: Daemon confronts his daughter.

Warnings: Mentions of rape. Violence.

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3 @trap-house-homiecide @50svibes @literishdegree99 @dc-marvel-girl96 @henriettadreaming @multiple-fandoms-girl @gyuxmilk

The Library

Arianwyn had hardly made it out of Maegor’s Holdfast before her legs failed her, and she collapsed against a wall. She hung her head between her knees as she ran her hand through her hair, not caring when she thoroughly dismantled the braided bun Baela had done earlier that day.

How had everything gone so wrong?

Only minutes ago, she had been sitting with Aemond, her hand on his thigh and his eye on her lips, feeling as though nothing else in the world even mattered or existed.

Now she was so sure that it would be the last time she saw him smile, for a long while, if not forever. Daemon would not forgive his words, nor the way he had easily dispatched Jace. Even when she was of age, her father would fight against her happiness with everything he had.

“Aria!” Aemond’s voice echoing through the hall stopped her from spiraling further into paranoia. She stood from the floor to grab onto him as he crashed into her, holding her as though he would never let her go.

His voice was strained with desperation as he whispered into her hair. “Aria, I am so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just got so angry, and I…”

Arianwyn shook her head into his chest, failing to stop his blustering as he pressed kiss after kiss onto her head.

“I won’t let him hurt you, I promise. I’ll stand guard outside your bedchamber myself. I’ll – ”

“I’m leaving, Aemond. Tonight.”

Silence.

It had not felt real until it left her lips. Even as she had packed her bag with Brynna and practiced opening the hidden door again and again until she knew exactly where to press the keystone, it felt like a faraway dream.

It had not been real until Aemond knew.

He stared at the wall, blinking furiously to try and clear his mind as he considered her words. “I don’t understand,” he said.

Daemon and Rhaenyra had said nothing about their returning to Dragonstone so soon. None of their other children had been commanded to pack. Why was Arianwyn leaving?

She pulled away, gazing up at him with eyes full of determination and regret. “There are tunnels throughout the castle,” she explained. “Rhaenys showed me. Tonight, Brynna and I will use them to escape. We will go to Runestone, where I will hide until I am of age, and Daemon holds no more power over me.”

Aemond scoffed, though his eyes shone with angry tears. He did not know whether his distaste for her plan was because of how foolish it was or that he did not want her to go without him. “Runestone will be the first place he searches for you. He will have you within a month, if not sooner.”

“Then I will hide someplace else!” Arianwyn hissed, not wanting to raise her voice for fear of being discovered. “But I cannot stay here, and I cannot return to Dragonstone. If he can’t whore me out to some brutish old Lord before he tires of my presence, he will kill me, Aemond! Especially after…”

She did not need to finish her thought. Aemond knew he had sealed her fate with his words at dinner. For that, he would never forgive himself.

“Let me come with you,” he begged. “I can protect you, and Brynna. I can help you find a safe place to hide.”

Arianwyn smiled sadly. “I wish you could,” she said, fighting back tears. “I really do. But he would only say that you stole me away, and paint you as the villain. And I will not allow that.”

She cupped his cheek in her hand, pulling his face closer to hers until their foreheads touched and the tips of their noses bumped together. “I will come back. And when I do, we will finally be together.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned forward to kiss him at last. But in the heartbeat before their lips touched, Aemond sharply pulled back. When Arianwyn opened her eyes, she found him looking not at her but at the man prowling down the hall.

Daemon. With a scowl on his face and death in his eyes.

Arianwyn’s heart pounded hard and slow. Bunching Aemond’s shirt in her hands, she pushed him away from her. “Go!” she shouted. “Go now!”

“Aria…” Aemond warned, taking up a defensive stance.

“If you don’t go right this instant, I shall hate you for the rest of my life,” she growled.

His nostrils flared as he fought the instinct to protect the woman he loved. But he remembered what had stopped him from killing Daemon moments ago: he needed witnesses. Someone to prove the death was justified. That he was not an evil man who would slay his own kin without righteous cause.

With a last helpless glance at Arianwyn, Aemond planted another kiss on her temple before bolting down the hall – away from her and from Daemon.

Feeling the loss of Aemond by her side like a severed limb, Arianwyn steeled herself as she faced her father. Surely, he would not kill her now, not when his wife had only just pledged them to peace in their family.

She realized just how useless that pledge was when Daemon wrapped his hand around her throat and thrust her head back into the hard stone wall, his nails sinking into her skin until a single droplet of crimson blood slid down her neck.

Rather than fear for her life or pray to the gods to save her, all Arianwyn could do was wonder whether the blood would stain her beautiful gown.

“Are you not capable of keeping your legs closed for one gods-damned day, you hateful little slut?” Daemon hissed, the sour smell of wine on his breath. He tightened his grip on her neck until she had nowhere to look but into his wrathful eyes.

Still, Arianwyn felt no fear.

She had lived for so long consumed by dread for what her father may do to her. Throughout her childhood, she dreaded his continued indifference toward her. Then she dreaded his anger, his keen hatred. The way that, with a single word, he could destroy her happiness. And now, she dreaded his following through on his threat of killing her.

At least if he did, she would finally be free of him.

With a surge of confidence, she smiled at Daemon, a dark laugh escaping her lips. “A trait I seem to have inherited from you, dear father.” When he started to respond, she cut him off, “Go on, spit your venom. It cannot sting me anymore.”

“Hold your tongue, or you may lose it,” he snarled, pushing her further into the wall. But the chill in the rough stone only invigorated her – it matched the ice in her veins.

“Like Vaemond Velaryon lost his?” she taunted, all too aware that with each word, she was baiting a dangerous beast. “If you can’t manage to hit your mark with Valyrian steel, how do you expect to hurt me when you are unarmed?”

The muscles in her neck strained painfully as Daemon roared, pushing her higher and higher until the heels of her feet lifted from the floor. With every excruciating moment that passed, she was amazed that her head did not simply fall from her shoulders.

“Your bitch mother displayed a similar wit,” he jeered, cocking his head as a dark haze crossed his eyes. He was silent for a moment before a vile sneer crossed his lips. “It did not last long.”

At that, something in Arianwyn’s heart snapped, like a crack tearing through a glacier, and something far more dangerous than even a dragon slipped through.

“Which mother would that be?” she asked with a voice as sickeningly sweet as candied lemons. “The one you killed, the one you neglected, or the one you’re now using for her throne?”

Then, with a speed that surprised even her, she reached into her skirts and pulled out Brynna’s embroidery shears. Clamping the blades together in her fist, she plunged the tip into Daemon’s hand – into the soft, vulnerable flesh between his forefinger and thumb. She struck with such force that the shears pierced all the way through, stopping only when she felt the steel bite against her own skin.

Daemon screeched in pain, jumping back and releasing Arianwyn’s throat. Her slippers had barely hit the floor before she was running, as fast as her trembling legs would take her, through the dark halls of the castle.

She did not know where she was going. The shock at what she had just done was only just hitting her, and tears stung her blurring eyes. She was running on pure instinct, though her mind screamed at her from far away to somehow make it back to her rooms, to where Brynna was waiting for her.

Then she tripped.

One of the tiles of the corridor floor had come loose and risen just enough to send her tumbling to the floor. Her left slipper came off as she skidded to a halt, her now-scuffed hands breaking her fall.

From the distance, she could hear footsteps coming toward her.

In that moment, she recalled a fairy tale she and Aemond had once read. A wayward shoe had led a Valyrian Prince to his lost Princess.

Arianwyn was not in a fairy tale.

No, this was a monster story.

She would not allow something as absurd as a lost shoe to lead her vengeful father to her. Instead, she tore her other slipper off her foot and grabbed the other from the floor as she began to run again. Once she came to an intersection of corridors, she threw the shoes down one hall and turned to run the other way.

Her lungs burned as she ran further and further, past the limits of her aching muscles. She did not stop until the sound of footsteps had faced, and she reached two large oaken doors.

The library doors.

She knew she should turn back. She should return to her rooms, her packed bag, and the tunnel that led to her freedom.

But still, she found her hand drifting over the great brass doorknobs. She had said her goodbye to Aemond, though it had not been the way she imagined. Perhaps she could take a moment to say goodbye to the library too.

The library was eerily quiet. With only two flickering candles illuminating the grand shelves, most would find the empty halls unsettling, perhaps even haunting.

But for Aemond and Arianwyn, this was a place of ultimate comfort. The place they had spent countless nights together, eagerly devouring knowledge by the same dim candlelight. This was the place they had always been able to cheer each other, even on their darkest days. This library was sacred to them. More than any other place, this was their home.

She had to be here.

With a quick gesture, Aemond signaled for Ser Criston and Arianwyn’s retinue of Runestone guards he had brought with him to fan out and search for her among the stacks. Though if she were here, he knew precisely where she would be. With his sword still at the ready, Aemond carefully and quietly made his way through the sprawling rows of shelves.

Past the oldest and most prestigious tomes, chained in place near the doors to impress foreign visitors. Past the religious texts his mother had ordered moved forward only a few years ago. Past the most flattering histories of each noble house, hand selected by their loyal Maesters over the years.

There she was.

Beneath the shelves of their precious alcove, the walls lined with the surviving histories and legends of Old Valyria, Arianwyn sat under their table, crying softly as she gazed at the book in her lap.

Silently, Aemond sheathed his sword and approached. His heart wrenched in agony when he beheld the two trails of freshly dried blood running down her neck and the already bruising skin beneath her jaw.

“Aria?” he called gently.

Her silver eyes snapped to him in a moment of fear, but they softened when she saw him.

He knelt beside the table, mouth agape as he stared at her wounds, “What happened?”

Following his gaze, she brought her hand to her neck as if she had forgotten the blood that lay there. “Oh,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I stabbed him.”

“You what?” Aemond asked in disbelief. He could hardly imagine her hurting anyone, let alone stabbing them. Though, he supposed if she was going to, it would be Daemon.

Wiping the thick blood from her hand onto her dress before closing her book – the first history of Valyria they had ever read together – she stared distantly across the library hall. “He was choking me. And he insulted my mother. So, I stabbed him.”

Aemond could not help the pride that rose in his chest nor the breathless laugh that escaped his lips. “With what?”

Arianwyn returned the smile as she looked back to him, “Brynna’s embroidery shears.”

They both began to laugh in earnest, as though she had not been moments from death, and he not seconds from declaring war.

When they finally came down from snickering, Arianwyn patted the ground next to her. “Come join me,” she said.

He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t fit anymore. Will you come out?”

She grinned again but complied with his request. The book forgotten behind her, she rose to take Aemond’s hand.

“Is Daemon still alive?” he asked, afraid of what her answer might be.

She nodded, sadness again taking over her features. Whatever trance she had been in was swiftly fading. “It was only his hand,” she whispered.

Tears came again to Arianwyn’s eyes. She sniffed, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. Aemond caught her wrist as it fell. He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing it softly before entwining his fingers with hers.

“Please don’t cry, Aria,” he begged. His voice was so soft, so delicate. “Not here.”

Arianwyn smiled despite the aching in her heart. Was that truly what was upsetting him right now? Her crying? “He will kill me, Aemond,” she kept her voice strong through her tears. “After what I did, he won’t care what the court may think. He won’t even care that he’ll lose me as a bargaining chip. He just wants me dead.”

She expected words of comfort. An apology, perhaps. After all, it was his disastrous, misguided toast that had sparked her father’s rage. But he just stood there, utterly silent, holding her hand in his as the candles continued to melt.

An idea floated through Aemond’s mind. He was about to dismiss it as simply the fanciful notion of the lovesick boy he had once been. But when he truly considered it, he realized it could be the answer to all Arianwyn’s woes.

“No. He won’t.”

She had heard those words from him before. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the suddenness of his declaration that shocked her nor the strength with which he gripped her hand. It was the sheer determination in his voice. She had not heard such intensity from him since the night he claimed Vhagar. Though she had no idea what he could mean, something about the confidence that shone in his eye comforted her.

“How?” she asked.

He grinned openly. “Daemon only holds such power over you because you are his daughter, and you are not yet of age.”

She turned her eyes down as he spoke, but he cupped her chin and raised her eyes to his. He knew it wasn’t fair, but she needed to hear the truth.

“You are a woman. Until you, at last, become the Lady of Runestone, you are powerless.”

Arianwyn scowled. “Yes, I know this, Aemond. It is precisely the problem and – “

“Marry me.”

Next Chapter

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incorrectbatfam · 6 months

Note

What would Queering the Map look like in the DC Universe

For those of you that don't know, Queering the Map is basically this website where people can add pinpoints on a map with their different queer experiences. It's really cool, I suggest checking it out (unless you hate The Gays, in which case feel free to unfollow me).

Now, for the headcanons:

"Went to a baseball game for our third date. We ended up on the jumbotron. Some people booed us. I think it's 'cause I wore a Gotham jersey and she had a Metropolis hat. A modern-day Romeo and Juliet."

"Drag storytime here, every Thursday from 5:30 to 7"

"sometimes love is kidnapping a nepo baby with your two polyamorous boyfriends"

"Did it with another Arkham inmate, 5/10"

"According to my grandfather, who trained me to wield a sword from the moment I could walk, I'm 'too young' to know who I am."

"Themiscyra more like Lesbos 2 amirite"

"I have a crush on a boy in my class but every time I ask him to hang out he tells me he's busy. I know he doesn't do any after-school clubs and he doesn't need a part-time job because he's rich as hell. I have my conspiracy theories. Let's see how they pan out."

"@ Ollie Queen I screwed your son in your office"

"On this street corner, I got so nervous talking to the cute food truck worker that I puked in a trash can. I am 42 years old."

"Don't forget about us in Kahndaq!"

"Smallville boys sure love them cornfields"

"I put the bi in billionaire"

"me-wow ;)"

"It's Sunday morning. My wife and I slept in after a wild time last night. I woke up first so I surprised her with her favorite breakfast and used the food scraps to make compost cupcakes for her plants. Then she kissed me and showed me a funny video because she knows I love wild dogs, and it makes everything I've put up with worth it. Some folks will see this and still call us the villains. If that's the case, I don't wanna be a hero."

"I know where I'd put my Lantern ring ( ͡ ° ل͜ ͡°)"

"No GCPD at Pride"

"I no longer live in England but I had my fair share of adventures back in the day. We have always been here and we always will be."

"first kiss here, tasted like waffles"

"Hey Lex I can be your sugar baby i mean henchman"

"I can run from Keystone to Bludhaven in five seconds flat but it doesn't matter because he'll never see me the way I see him"

"I transed the fish. Signed, an Atlantean"

"Wanna match butts?"

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audhd-nightwing · 2 months

Text

Birdflash Week (Day 4)

Villain AU

@birdflashweek

Wally watched as Batman pulled up a profile on the screen at the front of the Watchtower’s conference room. According to the Bat’s reports, there was a new Rogue on the loose that knew the Justice League’s secret identities. So far they hadn’t gone to the media, luckily, but in the meantime they had built up quite the reputation in Gotham (along with a pile of bodies).

The profile showed a masked man, likely about Wally’s age, in a black and blue suit. There was a symbol on his chest, and two stripes of color down his arms and gloves. That was all he could tell from the extremely blurry photo, though. Apparently he went by the alias ‘Shadow’ and had been traveling the world quite a bit before settling in Gotham.

“Do we know how he find out our identities?” Superman asked, tone grave.

To any normal person it would look like Batman replied with a simple “No,” but with his superspeed Wally was able to catch the briefest hint of hesitation before the man responded. Which was… unsettling. Batman never hesitated, ever. Something was definitely up with this Rogue.

Batman continued to brief them all on the situation, but seemed fairly confident the masked man wouldn’t reveal their identities to the public. That, at least, was comforting. The rest, not so much. It seemed like this Rogue was taking more of an anti-hero approach at least, only killing criminals that were repeat offenders or the worst of the worst. Of course, killing was always bad, but at least this guy wasn’t harming civilians or heroes.

As the meeting dispersed and Wally zeta’d back to Keystone, he couldn’t help but wonder about the new Rogue, and how exactly he knew the League’s identities- which was one of the most carefully kept secrets in the entire world- and why he (however thankfully) hadn’t just released them to the media.

His thoughts about the man kept him distracted enough that he didn’t notice someone else was in his apartment until he was already in it with them. And, because he had shit luck, it was the Rogue he had just been wondering about. Eh, he was never one for subtlety anyway.

“Hey, why didn’t you release our identities to the public?” he asked the man, who cocked his head and studied him before replying.

“I don’t actually want villains to hurt you or your loved ones. I was just proving a point to B, telling him something only I would know,” he explained, much to Wally’s surprise.

“…Oh. Um. What?” Wally asked, beyond confused.

“Plus I wanted to mess with the League a bit I suppose. Not you though, Wally,” he smiled warmly at the speedster and Wally felt a rush of familiarity at the sight.

“Have we… met? Before?” the redhead asked somewhat desperately. There was something about the man before him that Wally just recognized on a bone-deep level. The man’s kind smile turned into a delighted grin and he pulled a stunned Wally into a hug.

“I knew you would remember me! I told Dami but he didn’t believe me. We were best friends for almost a decade, of course you’d remember me,” he rambled excitedly. The speedster froze in his arms and sucked in a sharp breath, pulling away to face the man once more.

“…‘Wing?” he asked, voice breaking at the end.

Nightwing nodded enthusiastically and was pulled back into a crushing hug.

“I thought… everyone assumed you were dead but I refused to believe it, but then so many years passed and Batman never said anything… I’m so sorry,” Wally whispered.

“Hey, hey no it’s not your fault. I should have told you all that I was leaving after Jay died, I’m sorry. I wasn’t in a good headspace and it only got worse and then… after everything I’ve done… I didn’t think you would want me back,” Dick admitted softly.

“Of course we would, dumbass. Of course I would,” he emphasized, leaning his forehead against the shorter man’s.

“I’m sorry I left,” Dick replied, holding him tighter.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re back now, and nothing is going to come between us again,” Wally promised, and leaned down to press a kiss to the other man’s lips, which was eagerly returned.

#birdflash #birdflashweek #birdflashweek2024 #dick grayson #wally west #dickwally #birdflash fanfic #villain au #tho it’s more anti-hero than villain i guess #i’ll post the context for this later #this is just a tidbit from an idea based on the villain au prompt #my writing #mini fic #ficlet

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mangoisms · 6 months

Text

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter twelve: back to you | read chapter eleven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: the final part <3 my end notes if you'd like <3

ten months later

“Hey, you two. Where’s your aunt?”

“Having an existential crisis on the trampoline,” you hear Irey respond matter-of-factly.

“She’s no fun anymore,” Jai adds.

“Well, Bart just got here so—woah!”

Even you can feel the sharp gust of wind the twins create as they zoom off to see their cousin. Bart Allen runs at a million miles per hour—metaphorically and literally, so he and the twins get on like a house on fire.

Good thing everyone turned out for you and Steph’s pre-graduation party, otherwise Wally, Jay, and Max would have their hands full trying to make sure the three of them didn’t bring the house down.

And when you say everyone came, you really mean everyone.

That’s sort of the problem.

Barry Allen and Iris West-Allen were pleasant as always when they arrived—fifteen minutes late, the tardiness Barry is prone to considerably mitigated by his wife’s urging—and gave you big hugs in congratulations when they saw you.

“Well, early congratulations,” Barry amends, smiling.

“I just wish we could be there, too,” Iris says, letting you go.

You wave her off. Barry had a mission with the JL on the day of and Iris’s book tour was just starting, so there was no extra time to spare.

“No, it’s okay. Wally and Linda are already going, so that’s enough.”

“We’ll be there in spirit,” Barry says, grinning as Iris rolls her eyes. “Literally.”

Referring to the speed force and the way it tethers both speedsters and lightning rods. So, yeah, technically.

You chuckle. “Exactly. So, don’t worry.”

“We still wanted to give you our gift in person, though,” Iris says, passing you an envelope.

“You guys really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“‘Course we did,” Barry says. “You’re Wally’s… what is it? Close friend slash little sister slash niece? Us, well, we don’t mind seeing you as a niece.”

“Complicated labels aside,” Iris puts in, “you’re part of this family, too.”

And boy if that wasn’t going to choke you up.

You believe it now, almost a year since Wally revealed his identity; since then, you consider Keystone City and Central City as much of a home as Gotham. It was only inevitable that you met the others and you were lucky enough that they welcomed you with welcome arms.

But the ones part of this family are one and many. Not just the Garricks, not just the Wests, not just the Allens, not just Max Mercury, but—

“Ms. Chambers?”

Jesse Chambers grins at you. “Hey now, none of that. Here, Jesse works just fine. Pleasure to meet you. Everyone has had nothing but excellent things to say about you.”

Okay. Sure.

That bit is just a little obscured by your horrible confusion on how on earth she even knew everyone.

You have an inkling as to the answer but frankly, it feels impossible to believe. Not because you don’t think she is not capable of it but the fact that the whole billionaire-as-a-superhero/vigilante thing isn’t so uncommon as initially thought.

The confusion must be written all over your face. She laughs. Jay is at your side in the next instant, smiling at her in greeting.

“Sorry not to have told you sooner,” he tells you apologetically, though the smile pulling at his lips tells you he isn’t that sorry. “But we wanted to leave the decision up to her. And—”

“If you can keep these guys’ secret,” Jesse says, jerking a thumb to the kitchen, where Wally, Linda, Barry, and Iris are, “you can keep mine, too. Besides, you did great work during your internship. QE has had our eyes on you for a while.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to—”

“We want to,” she says. “We wouldn’t lose anything at all offering you a place with PR. But if you want to go somewhere else, that’s okay. I’d be happy to be a reference if so.”

Somehow, you managed to stammer out a thank you and get out of that situation without making a complete fool of yourself. Wally later told you Jesse taps into the speed force using an equation, which… sure, why not.

Jesse used to not like him, apparently, but recent events have allowed her to warm up to him; plus, the birth of her own son, Johnny Tyler, helped, too, that way Wade could have a friend to grow up with.

While all the others prepare dinner and attempt to keep Bart, Jai, and Irey’s shenanigans contained, you manage to snag a bit of time to yourself, not quite believing you’d just been offered a job by Jesse Chambers herself.

It’s all just… a little bit insane.

Then the twins came out and you indulged them on the trampoline in the backyard of the West house for a bit. Then you thought too hard about everything and sunk right back into your disbelief again.

Which leads to now.

“Speedsters, I swear,” Tim mutters.

You hear the soft sound of footsteps on the grass but make no move to leave from your place — star-fished on the trampoline, eyes closed. Early May in Keystone City is considerably warmer and tepid than Gotham City. You should shed your hoodie but you don’t want to. Mostly because it isn’t yours, exactly.

It’s Tim’s. The one you wore the night you got stabbed last year. Not the same one; that one was ruined beyond repair and anyway, you weren’t too happy to wear that exact one, either, since you nearly bled out in it. But it’s close enough. The same shade of brilliant azure. Big on Tim and baggy on you.

Of course, why should you want a hoodie when your boyfriend is right here?

The faint noise of the flaps of the netting be brushed aside. Then the trampoline itself moves, dipping with his weight as he comes over to you. You slide a bit, elbow bumping into his knee.

“So,” he starts, closer than before, one hand brushing your cheek as he tucks a few pieces of your hair behind your ear. “What’s this about an existential crisis? In the middle of the day?”

“It’s four in the afternoon.”

“Schematics.”

You grunt but don’t respond.

A soft chuckle. “Is this about Jesse Chambers’ offer? It’s too bad, you know.”

“What’s too bad.”

“Well, Wayne Enterprises was looking forward to offering you a position, too. And so were the Titans. And I can’t speak for this one personally but I’m fairly certain the Justice League was planning on sending an offer, too. You’re in high demand.”

You groan. “Isn’t that too much? I’m—I haven’t even graduated. There are so many other people with so much more experience—”

“Well, how are you supposed to get experience, too?” he asks, laughing softly. “Besides, you’re graduating with honors.”

“Oh, yeah, well, I’m sure it helps to have a boyfriend with an in at WE, who also just so happens to be a member of the Titans, on top of multiple people who are close to me that are also part of the Justice League.”

“And Jesse Chambers? Hers is the most reliable in that sense, then, isn’t it? Because she doesn’t personally know you—”

“But she knows Wally.”

“But their relationship isn’t that great. Sure, she’s good with Jay and Max but… You also have the advantage of having worked there briefly. They wouldn’t call you back if they didn’t like what they saw.”

Which is true. Jesse Chambers is a businesswoman. She wouldn’t do this as some pity play.

Then again, neither would the others.

You finally open your eyes, squinting immediately as the sun beams down at you.

Tim shifts, moving until his head can shield you from it, bringing him into your focus.

He’s smiling warmly at you, affection clear in his gaze; the sunlight does wonders for him, for his dark hair and blue eyes.

“This can’t be happening.”

“It is,” he says. “You’re graduating next week Friday. You and Steph. And no matter where you go and what you do, you’re gonna kick ass, you know that, right?”

You groan. “You’re supposed to say things like that.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. “But when I tell you I had nothing to do with the offer from WE, you have to believe me. You know I haven’t worked with them in a long while. That was all them.”

“Bruce?”

“Maybe Bruce.”

But then that’s ‘cause he feels… guilty about cornering you last year. Which serves him right. Your relationship with Tim’s adoptive father is a bit rocky, truth be told. Just because of the things Tim has told you. The things Steph has told you. And last year is certainly a factor. But all the others, you get along with them.

You don’t see Dick too often because he lives in New York but he’s kind. Jason’s cool when you see him. Cass and Duke are great. You hang out with them regularly on your own. Damian is a bit frigid but that’s just because of your choice in company and not anything personal, exactly, but you do get the advantage of also having Steph on your side, since they have a better relationship than he and Tim do. Alfred is pleasant as always, too; sometimes he sends grocery deliveries to you to make sure you’re sustaining on actual food and not just ramen.

Barbara Gordon is also very nice and volunteered to help you put together your resume and cover letters and applications; Jean-Paul Valley is kind, too. They’re both old family friends, you would learn. You have lunch with Helena Bertinelli once a month; you two bond over a mutual dislike for Batman and a mutual fondness for Tim—begrudging on her part sometimes but she undeniably sees him as a little brother and he sees her a big sister. And truthfully, your relationship with her is a bit similar.

You’ve made quite a few relationships with these vigilantes. Connections. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that all of this is happening. But one part of you, the prideful part, doesn’t like it. The other part, the rational one, says it was unavoidable. You were going to apply to QE and WE, anyway. Maybe toss out a few applications to the League and the Titans, too, just for the heck of it. Not expecting anything to come of it. Out of any of it.

But of course something would. You know too many of these people for nothing to happen.

“But then again,” Tim says a moment later. “Bruce is just attached to the company by name.”

“That is not a ‘just’ thing, Tim, that is a very big thing. They’d do whatever he wanted.”

“Not anything. Not if you didn’t have the grades, background, or potential to back it up.”

Also, technically, true.

“But like I said. Jesse’s is the most earnest in that regard.”

“Do you want me to leave Gotham, is that it.”

He laughs. The sound warms you.

“I don’t,” he chuckles. “I really don’t. I’d love for you to go with WE. But I also know that the news of us dating throws a wrench in that.”

Right. Ever since the gossip columns caught you two kissing on a date a couple months ago, they wouldn’t shut up about it. Only after digging their grubby little fingers into every inch of your past, of course, and using that to fuel the flames. Talking about your relationship with him as if you planned it, just trying to get a leg-up in the application process at WE.

But the thing is, objectively speaking, there isn’t anything wrong with that. You aren’t with Tim strictly for that purpose but you knew it would factor in. It’s undeniable, the way all these other offers are undeniable in who and why they came. You can’t help who you’re connected to.

But yeah. It would suck to prove all the tabloids right by accepting a job with WE right after graduation—like all of them said you would.

Of course, they would talk regardless. Even if you went with QE or the Titans or the Justice League. Wayne Enterprises is a known partner with Quickstart Enterprises, as well as a heavy funder for the League and the Titans. So…

You groan, wiggling closer to him by planting your head on his thigh and staring forlornly up at him. “What should I do?”

He smiles. “Whatever you want to, honey.”

“Yeah, that’s not really helpful, Timmy.”

He rolls his eyes fondly, bending down to scoop you into his arms. You let out a squeak as he pulls you into his lap, then you settle comfortably in the circle of his arms, dropping your head on his shoulder.

From here, you can spy the old bullet graze on the side of his neck, silvery and a little textured. Without a second thought, you lean forward to kiss it.

He shivers slightly, arms tightening around you.

You bite down a smile. “Cold?”

“Shut up,” he mutters, fingers digging into your side, making you giggle and try to squirm away from him.

He doesn’t keep up the torment, exhaling a soft laugh, too, as you lay your head back on his shoulder.

A cool breeze sweeps through the backyard. In the suburbs of Keystone City, it is quiet out here. Peaceful. Though you can still hear the others inside. Wally saying something. Steph laughing at it.

You’ve carved out a nice place for yourself here. The West’s and Garrick’s here in Keystone and the Allen’s over in Central.

You close your eyes, basking in Tim’s embrace and his proximity. You haven’t seen him much this month, with you and Steph in the throes of finals. But he promised to come, that he’d ask Bart to take him and his friend happily agreed.

You were surprised to learn of their relationship. That they had known each other. But they had met when they were younger, along with the rest of the original members of Young Justice. Put together because they were superhero kids. The relationship stuck. What a coincidence, that Bart Allen was part of the family you had quickly grown close to. But not unwelcome.

It is a small world, you would think.

Or maybe, when you feel indulgent, meant to be. You and Wally. You and Steph, you and Tim. All of this. Interconnected in ways you could only dream of. You don’t have to sacrifice much to have them together.

Tim squeezes your hip, one hand slipped underneath the hoodie. “What are you thinking about?”

That maybe this decision isn’t as hard as you thought it would be. That it’s not a matter of deliberation, is it?

You know you don’t want to prove all the tabloids right by going with WE immediately. Not to mention, for the longest time, it was a dream to work with them. You want more time, more experience, before you move there.

And you don’t think you are ready to jump head-first into working for the Justice League or the Titans. You need experience for that, too.

So…

“I’m pretty sure I could convince Wally to take me to Gotham to visit. When I start at Quickstart.”

“Not necessary,” he says and you raise an eyebrow, watching him pull back, his gaze warm, not at all surprised by your words. “I could just come and visit you. Unlimited access to the jet and all.”

“Racking up carbon emissions just for me?”

“You know the jet is clean energy,” he says, pouting a bit.

Yes, you do. He talked your ear off about it when they made the switch. But you just like seeing him get pouty about it.

You cup his cheeks, smiling, particularly taken with the way his whole face softens as he looks at you. The knowledge that he’s this soft for you is always so insane to you. Not at all good for your heart.

“I know. It’s still a bit of an expense, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s worth it.”

“Cornball.”

“I’m being serious,” he presses, hands tightening around your waist. “Whatever I have to do, it’s worth it for you.”

You know that. Tim is a devoted boyfriend. He doesn’t do things in halves. When he’s loyal to someone, when he dedicates himself, he does it wholly. You could ask him of anything and he would do whatever it took to get it for you, to do it for you. If you asked him to move with you, you know he would do it.

You also know the thought must’ve crossed his own mind. But he still won’t say anything, not unless he knows you want it, too, and… you do. You think that can wait, though, for a little while longer. Let you get settled in and then you two can discuss that possibility—if he wants to, of course, because while Wally and Linda do like him now, the former would not like having a Bat running underfoot in the city, in either of the cities.

You just aren’t used to that kind of devotion. Even after this long.

You slide your arms around his neck, threading your fingers in his hair. He leans into the touch. “I know.”

“I’ll take Steph when I can, too,” he adds and you smile again.

“I love you.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing yours. Your eyes flutter shut.

He nudges your nose with his, then finally closes the distance between you two.

Cotton-candy sweet warmth unspools in your chest he kisses you, soft and gentle. But it quickly edges into dangerous territory when you nip at his bottom lip and he yanks you closer and closer until there is no space between your bodies. It would be better if you weren’t wearing this hoodie but you make do with what you have, still able to feel most of his chest pressed to yours, hard and sturdy, heat licking up your spine.

Your fingers twine in his hair and he lets out a shuddery breath, the kiss turning open-mouthed in the next second and you can taste the gum he was chewing on earlier.

It’s a shade too hungry for your current location but you can’t help it, he’s just so… beguiling. You’re overwhelmingly attracted to your boyfriend and you think you always will be.

But of course, you still should know better, even with all that.

A sharp gust of wind hits you two in the next second and you both separate immediately, knowing exactly what—or who—it is. But instead of Wally or any other speedster here, a high-pitched giggle makes it to your ears and you both turn, eyebrows raising as you find one and a half year old Wade West now inside the trampoline, net fluttering behind him.

You and Tim turn to look at the back door, which is now open, Wally and Linda standing there; the former looks pleased, while the latter just raises her eyebrows.

“I thought,” he starts, mischief written on his face, “that instead of leaving space for Jesus, you could leave some space for Wade. So. Do that. And please stop desecrating the place my children play.”

“And come inside,” Linda adds. “Food’s almost ready.”

You slide off Tim’s lap, reaching for Wade before he tries to stand and walk over to you, not trusting his balance on the trampoline. Tiny hands grapple with the hoodie strings, tugging.

“Got it. Thanks.”

They both smile pleasantly and turn back inside.

You bite your lip, which already feels swollen from your kissing, and look at Tim. His face is flushed with red, lips swollen, too. A tempting sight.

He catches the look on your face. “Don’t.”

“It’s my graduation party.”

“It’s yours and Steph’s. Later.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Well, you love me, so what does that say about you?”

“That you’ve seduced me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, I’ve seduced you, okay, sure—” he looks at Wade, shaking his head “—can you believe this?”

All Wade can do is giggle in response. All you can do is smile at him, so painfully in love.

He smiles back, rising up on his knees and leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“I love you, too, you know.”

Yeah, you do know.

four years later

“Goddamit, where is it?”

Fish, a miniature Italian Greyhound you rescued from the shelter, offers no answer or help for your plight. Instead, she just sits near you, happy to follow you around as you search, watching you with big eyes. Big, empty eyes. Absolutely nothing goes on in her little head and you and Tim love her very much for it but damn if you wouldn’t appreciate a little help in finding the security badge that seems to have mysteriously disappeared.

It’s perfect timing, too. That badge is your lifeline. That’s what your supervisor, Meena, said anyway, a couple days ago when you went in for it and had a chance to speak with her before starting work. You can’t get into the tower without it. You can’t do anything without it and guest badges do not have the same amount of clearance that you have.

You stop in the living room, taking a breath, frustration starting to make you hot, which would be the icing on the cake, if you managed to sweat through your clothes before you even started work.

Sighing, you look at her. “Do you know where it is?”

A sound behind you.

“You should know better than that, honey,” comes the sleepy voice of your boyfriend, and you turn. “Fish is lucky to have a single coherent thought once a week and she wasted that one yesterday when she managed to give Damian the high five he asked for.”

You chuckle despite yourself, remembering the pleased gleam that had come into Damian’s hazel green eyes when Fish successfully completed the trick. Only after six months of painstaking work, of course, but it hardly deters him. Titus passed away not too long ago and he’s fixated on Fish because of it. Even if he says her name is ‘completely idiotic.’

Brushing away those thoughts, you focus on Tim, still sleepy-eyed and rumpled. Then you see it—in his hand is your security badge, your picture smiling up at you, with your name beneath it.

“Oh my god, where—”

“You gave it to me, remember?” he asks, laughing softly as you pad over to him. “And said to keep it with my gear, that way it wouldn’t get lost between then and now.”

True. All true. After all, that gear—that is, his suit and tech—doesn’t get brought out other than for the occasional mission with the Titans, so, say, every six months or so. Other than that, it remains hidden in a panel behind your side in the walk-in closet, accessible only by him and you through fingerprint and retinal scans.

Easiest way not to get lost, especially since you’ve been particularly harried in the lead-up to the official start of your job at Wayne Enterprises as their spokesperson.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “Is that why you’re up? Because I told you, you don’t need to wake up for this, you can stay in bed…”

He raises an eyebrow. “And let you freak out for the next hour and a half before you have to leave?”

“Um. Yes?”

A soft smile. He reaches for you, hands settling on your arms, rubbing small circles there.

“Well, you’re wrong. It’s your first day at WE.”

“I know, but you didn’t have to get up now at least…”

The original idea when you decided to wake up at five-fifteen is that one, it would give you ample time to get ready—both yourself and your belongings—and two, it would let you try to relax.

Key word being try.

It’s now six, you’re supposed to leave in an hour and fifteen minutes to beat the morning rush traffic, and your nerves are none the better for it.

Your sleep was fitful, too, in anticipation of today, so you’re starting to feel sleepiness creep in at the edges; the fact that the sun has not yet risen and won’t rise for a while—cursed winter months and their late sunrises—does not help.

He eyes you. “I think I do.”

You groan, dropping your forehead on his shoulder. “I can’t do this.”

He squeezes your arms. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I can’t. They’re going to eat me alive.”

If not for being the new girl, then certainly because your boyfriend was, actually, once major shareholder of the company when he was seventeen and no, it doesn’t matter that he was just a figurehead and Lucius was actually pulling the strings—it still happened and Tim worked closely with the company for several years after. And then, of course, it will also be because your boyfriend is the adoptive son of the man who owns the actual company.

Even if you waited before joining, even if you actually applied for the position! Yes, applied! Contrary to what a few tabloids are saying right now, you did not go up to Tim (or Bruce, depending on which gossip column you’re reading) and demand the job. You went through the same channels as absolutely anyone else would.

Tim ducks his head to press a kiss to your neck. You can’t help your shiver and you know he feels it by the way he smiles against your skin. “No, they won’t. That’s my job. They can’t take that away from me.”

“Now is so not the time—”

He laughs, pulling away; you do the same to look at him.

“You’re going to be fine, gorgeous. You had Linda and Iris regularly pressing you these last few weeks and you did very well with them. Not to mention your last two jobs…”

You purse your lips.

“Two years with Quickstart Enterprises,” he lists. “Two more with the Justice League. Still bitter you picked them over the Titans, by the way.”

“They were more hardcore. Sorry.”

“Well, see? You and the rest of the team had to salvage the League’s image after each alien invasion or otherwise massive destruction committed during a mission and you guys did it. I mean, the publicity campaign you came up with was brilliant, you know that, right? Support was the highest it’s ever been while you were there.”

Right… In an effort to better the League’s image with the public after a particularly nasty fight that left multiple city blocks destroyed and more questions about the relevancy of the team, you decided the more prominent League members needed to create more solid images for themselves, that way each time the public or news saw them, it wasn’t always about the latest incident that brought their presence in. To do this, they needed to pick something to sponsor or support and start showing for it. Superman took an interest in accessibility to education, Wonder Woman focused on preserving wildlife and ecosystems, along with world landmarks, and Batman—with immense detail and planning to abide by his stiff rule not to be seen before the masses—focused on rehabilitation programs.

It brought in a lot of good coverage as more Leaguers agreed to do it and it did help. Helped a lot. Not to say those in the League were not helping, of course, either suited up in their own cities or with their public personas, but that was the issue. The League was capable of much more destruction collectively than individually and the public didn’t know that Batman was funding hundreds of programs to help impoverished communities in Gotham, mostly because he did that as Bruce Wayne and that connection would never be made known.

But that was the job. And you did it. Excellently. You would’ve stayed on for a little while longer but then you got kidnapped towards the end and that just wasn’t fun.

(Fortunately, however, there was a clause in your signing contract that states that in the event of a kidnapping, the League is obligated to rescue you.

Fair is fair, you think, for helping maintain their image and ensure that the UN doesn’t pull the plug and that the public doesn’t completely despise them.)

And of course, if you managed to survive working with the League and being kidnapped because of that work, then you should be entirely prepared to take on Wayne Enterprises. It should be chump change, if anything, but again, you go in with preconceived notions about yourself and your reputation. Not so great.

But would you back out?

No way.

“I believe in you,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and reassuring. “All of us do. You know Steph does.”

A pause, everything falling silent, save for the snores coming from the guest bedroom, where Steph is asleep.

“I’m not missing your first day at WE,” she had said the night before. “So, you better wake me up before you leave.”

He grins a bit teasingly at a particularly loud snore. “Like a train, right?”

“Like you’re any better.”

“I am not that loud.”

“What is it with me and attracting people who snore?”

Honestly.

“Speaking of, you know Wally and Linda believe in you. You can do this. It’s just ‘cause it’s the first day. Get through it and everything will be better.”

Which is true. You know that. Have been repeating that in your head as today approached and your nerves grew in intensity.

But everything is easier in theory than in practice.

“I know,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I know.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. “That’s why I’m here. Why we’re all here.”

“To knock some sense into me?”

“To do that gently,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know. I might need the force.”

“Well, I can call Damian if you want.”

“I don’t need that much force… on a scale, maybe something like Linda.”

“It’s good thing she and Wally are going to be here soon for breakfast, then.”

For the same reason Steph spent the night and Tim dragged himself out of bed—for your first day of work.

For you.

You pull him into a hug, overwhelmed at the thought and not at all caring about wrinkling your clothes. You can fix that. But this… this needs to be made known.

“I love you.”

He squeezes you—gently, trying to mitigate any wrinkles, and the thought makes your heart swell with unbridled love—and kisses your temple.

“I love you. We all do.”

And isn’t that something?

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