A Fallen Star☆

Avid reader, night blogger, and day sleeper.

[runraerun]

This but make it domestic Spirk:

[eldar-of-zemlya]

Maaan, this Ernest Chiriacka illustration has been in my K/S inspiration folder for over a year now!! Thank you for making this post—this was the push I needed to finally make it happen xD

✨ Full size on AO3 ✨

[sheepydraws]

[muttsys-deactivated20260425]

Ok*reduces you to a simmer* go rest for a while

[byjove]

Me: *Removes my cat from my lap to do something else.*

My cat: Father is...evil? Father is unyielding? Father is incapable of love? I am running away. I am packing my little rucksack and going out to explore the world as a lone vagabond. I can no longer thrive in this household.

[cryoverkiltmilk]

The spiritual successor to Miette

[manicgoblinnightmarewoman]

Might I also add

[shydestinybread]

May i add the piece from artist Verbal Vomit

[unyanizedcatboys]

Glad to see we’re all in agreement that cats talk like disparaged victorian children

[explorerrowan]

I am so incredibly glad we finally moved on from "i can has". Cats are clearly smart enough for advanced sentence structure and dumb enough to draw entirely incorrect conclusions about what they're talking about.

[dualclock]

My cat, banging the cabnet door over and over and over: bang bang bang

Me: you will not earn what you desire by banging the cabinet door.

My cat: This is a test of wills, is it not? We shall see if your ability to put up with my incessant banging outlasts my eternal lust for snackie treats. Years of conditioning have hardened me for this purpose. bang bang bang

Me: ksst!

My cat, throwing herself to the ground like she's been shot: Oh! Oh I have been assailed in my own home! Have mercy, have pity! Surely in the cruel darkness of your heart there is some mote of goodness that might stay your hand! Do not strike me, I pray you!

Me: ok

My cat, after waiting about 3 minutes: bang bang bang

[notcaycepollard]

[callmebliss]

Can haz snackytreat

[ladyshinga]

(source)

[dogsrulepeopledrool]

Source

[cryoverkiltmilk]

#the ancient texts

... My reblog was only six years ago!

[nathangardnerisdaddy]

Part 2: Office Hours and Lingering Looks

Pairing: Professor Tony Stark x F!Reader

Anon Request

Parts 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/Epilogue

Warning/Rating: 18+; explicit, graphic sexual activity (oral stimulation, manual stimulation, penetration, orgasms described in detail), unprotected sex, explicit language, power imbalance (professor-student romantic/sexual relationship), adult themes.

Word Count: 2.2 K

The first time she came to his office hours, Tony told himself it was purely academic interest.

She knocked on his door three days after that first lecture, and when he called "Come in," she poked her head around the doorframe with an uncertain expression.

"Hi," she said. "Is this a bad time?"

Tony looked up from the paper he was grading and felt that same jolt of awareness he'd experienced in the lecture hall. She was wearing a different hoodie today - this one navy blue - and her hair was down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

"Not at all," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. "Come in. Sit."

She did, perching on the edge of the chair like she might need to make a quick escape. She had her notebook with her, and Tony noticed it was covered in neat handwriting and small diagrams.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I had a question about the problem set," she said, opening her notebook. "Problem three, specifically. I got an answer, but I'm not sure if my approach was correct."

Tony held out his hand, and she passed him her notebook. He scanned her work, impressed despite himself. Her approach was unconventional but elegant, and her math was flawless.

"This is perfect," he said, looking up at her. "Why did you think it was wrong?"

She bit her lip. "It seemed too simple. Like I must have missed something."

"Sometimes the elegant solution is the correct one," Tony said, handing back her notebook. "You have good instincts. Trust them."

She smiled, and there was that blush again. "Thank you."

"Is that all you wanted to ask about?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Actually, I was wondering... in lecture, you mentioned an alternative theory that says every possibility actually happens in different universes. I've been reading about it, but I'm having trouble understanding how that solves the problem without creating even more problems."

Tony grinned. "Now that's a good question. How much time do you have?"

"Um, my next class isn't for two hours."

"Perfect. Let me show you something."

He stood and moved to the whiteboard on his wall, and for the next hour, they dove deep into the implications of many-worlds theory. Tony drew diagrams and equations, and she asked questions that demonstrated not just understanding but genuine insight. She challenged his explanations, proposed alternatives, and made connections he hadn't expected.

It was exhilarating.

Somewhere in the middle of explaining how different possibilities lose their connection to each other, Tony realized he'd moved closer to her. She was standing now too, pointing at something on the board, and they were close enough that he could smell her shampoo: something floral and light.

Their hands brushed as they both reached for the marker at the same time, and Tony felt electricity shoot up his arm. She jerked back, blushing furiously, and he forced himself to step away.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be," Tony said, his voice rougher than intended. He cleared his throat. "You were saying something about branching timelines?"

They finished the discussion, but Tony was hyperaware of every movement she made, every time she tucked her hair behind her ear, every small smile when she understood a concept.

When she finally left, citing her next class, Tony sat down at his desk and stared at the whiteboard covered in their collaborative work.

He was so fucked.

________________________________________________________________

The second time she came to office hours, Tony had been expecting her. Hoping for her, if he was honest with himself.

She knocked at exactly 2 PM, right when his office hours started, and Tony felt his pulse quicken.

"Come in," he called, and when she entered, he couldn't help but smile. "Becoming a regular, I see."

"Is that okay?" she asked, that familiar nervousness creeping into her voice. "I don't want to monopolize your time."

"You're not," Tony assured her. "I'm here for students. Especially ones who ask interesting questions. What's on your mind today?"

She sat down, and this time she seemed slightly more comfortable. "I've been thinking about what we discussed last time. About those alternative theories and how possibilities connect. And I had a thought about how it might relate to advanced computing."

Tony leaned forward. "I'm listening."

What followed was a discussion that lasted nearly two hours. She'd clearly been thinking about this all week, and her ideas were sophisticated and well-reasoned. Tony found himself not just teaching but genuinely collaborating, bouncing ideas back and forth.

At some point, she'd moved to the chair beside his desk instead of across from it, so they could both see his computer screen as he pulled up some research papers. They were close. Close enough that Tony could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, close enough that when she leaned forward to point at something on the screen, her shoulder brushed his.

"See, right there," she said, her finger on the screen. "That's what I was thinking about. If you could keep the possibilities from interfering with each other long enough, you could theoretically -"

She turned her head to look at him, and suddenly they were face to face, inches apart. Her words died on her lips, and Tony watched her eyes widen, her lips part slightly.

For a moment - one breathless, charged moment - Tony thought about closing that distance. About finding out if her lips were as soft as they looked.

Then she pulled back, her cheeks flaming, and Tony forced himself to focus on the screen.

"That's a really interesting idea," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "Have you thought about the practical applications?"

They finished the discussion, but the air between them felt different now. Charged. Aware.

When she left, Tony sat in his office for a long time, staring at nothing.

This was getting dangerous.

________________________________________________________________

By the third week, her visits to his office hours had become routine. She came every Tuesday and Thursday, always with questions, always with ideas that challenged and excited him.

And Tony found himself looking forward to those visits more than anything else in his week.

He learned things about her in those sessions. She was a senior, graduating in May. She was considering graduate school but wasn't sure where. She loved physics but also had a passion for philosophy, which explained her tendency to ask questions about the nature of reality. She was shy in groups but came alive in one-on-one conversations. She had a dry sense of humor that caught him off guard and made him laugh.

And she blushed. God, she blushed constantly. When he complimented her work. When their hands accidentally touched. When he made a joke that was slightly flirtatious. When he looked at her for too long.

Tony was addicted to that blush.

"You know," he said one Thursday afternoon, after they'd spent an hour discussing the deep implications of particle physics, "you're one of the best students I've ever had."

She looked up from her notebook, and there it was - that pink flush creeping up her neck. "I'm not - I mean, thank you, but I'm sure you've had much better -"

"I haven't," Tony interrupted. "You have an intuitive grasp of complex concepts that most PhD candidates would kill for. You ask the right questions. You're not afraid to challenge assumptions. You're brilliant."

The blush deepened, spreading across her cheeks. "You're just saying that."

"I never just say things," Tony said, leaning back in his chair. "Especially not compliments. Ask anyone who knows me - I'm notoriously stingy with praise."

She smiled, ducking her head. "Well, thank you. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Why?" Tony asked, genuinely curious. "What's so special about my opinion?"

She looked up at him, and there was something in her eyes that made his breath catch. "Because you're Tony Stark. You're one of the most brilliant physicists of our generation. You've published groundbreaking research. You could be anywhere, doing anything, but you're here, teaching. And you actually care about your students. That's... that's rare."

Tony felt something shift in his chest. "You've been researching me."

"Of course I have," she said, then immediately looked mortified. "I mean… not in a creepy way. Just, you know, academically. I read your papers. They're incredible."

"Which ones?" Tony asked, unable to help himself.

"All of them," she admitted. "But my favorite was your work on how particles affect each other and how information works in physics. The way you approached the problem was so elegant. I must have read it five times."

Tony stared at her. That paper was really complex and published in a specialized journal that most undergraduates never even look at.

"You read that five times," he said slowly.

"Is that weird?" she asked, looking worried. "That's weird, isn't it? I'm sorry, I -"

"It's not weird," Tony said, and his voice came out rougher than intended. "It's... impressive. And flattering. That paper took me two years to write."

"It shows," she said softly. "Every argument is so carefully constructed. Every equation is exactly where it needs to be. It's like... it's like poetry, but with math."

Tony felt something dangerous unfurl in his chest. This woman: this brilliant, shy, beautiful woman. Had read his most complex work multiple times and described it as poetry.

He was in so much trouble.

"I'm working on a follow-up," he heard himself say. "Expanding on some of the concepts. Would you... would you like to see it?"

Her eyes lit up. "Really? You'd let me read it?"

"Why not?" Tony said, even though he'd never shown his work-in-progress to a student before. "I could use a fresh perspective. And you clearly have the background to understand it."

"I'd love that," she said, and her smile was so genuine, so full of excitement, that Tony felt his heart do something complicated in his chest.

They spent the next thirty minutes discussing his new research, and Tony found himself explaining concepts he hadn't fully worked out yet, using her as a sounding board. She asked questions that made him think, pointed out potential problems he hadn't considered, and offered suggestions that were actually useful.

It was the most intellectually stimulating conversation he'd had in months.

When she finally glanced at her phone and gasped at the time, Tony realized with a start that his office hours had ended an hour ago.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said, jumping up. "I completely lost track of time. You probably have things to do -"

"I don't," Tony said, standing as well. "And even if I did, this was more important."

She looked at him, and there was something in her expression - something soft and wondering - that made Tony's pulse race.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For your time. For sharing your work with me. For... for everything."

"Thank you," Tony replied. "These conversations are the highlight of my week."

The words were out before he could stop them, and he watched her eyes widen, her cheeks flush that beautiful pink.

"Mine too," she whispered.

They stood there for a moment, the air between them thick with something unspoken. Tony's office suddenly felt very small, and he was acutely aware of how close they were standing, how easy it would be to reach out and touch her.

Then she stepped back, breaking the moment. "I should go. I have a study group."

"Right," Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."

"Yes. Tomorrow." She gathered her things, and at the door, she paused. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I really do love these conversations. I hope... I hope we can keep having them."

"We will," Tony promised. "As long as you want to."

She smiled - that shy, beautiful smile that was becoming his favorite thing - and left.

Tony sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands.

He needed to find a way to spend more time with her. These office hours weren't enough. He wanted more of her brilliant mind, more of her shy smiles, more of those moments when she forgot to be nervous and just let her passion for physics shine through.

He wanted more of her.

And that realization, more than anything else, told him just how far gone he already was.

But Tony Stark had never been good at denying himself what he wanted. And what he wanted, more than anything, was to know this woman better. To understand what made her tick. To see where this connection could go.

He just needed to find the right opportunity.

And as he sat in his office, surrounded by the equations they'd worked on together, an idea began to form.

An internship. In his lab. Working directly with him on his research.

It was perfect. Professional enough to be above board, but intimate enough to give him the time with her that he craved.

Now he just needed to convince her to say yes.

Though, given the way she looked at him, the way she blushed when he complimented her, the way she'd admitted these conversations were the highlight of her week too...

Tony didn't think that would be very hard at all.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: sugardaddy!tony x sugarbaby!reader

summary: meeting your sugar daddy in person went way better than expected

a/n: first tony fic! join the taglist <3

you spent the entire train ride trying not to throw up from nerves.

it felt ridiculous considering you had been talking to tony for nearly four months, but texting someone and meeting them in person were two completely different things. online, it had been easy to ignore the reality of it all. easy to pretend he wasn’t one of the richest men on the planet and you weren’t a struggling college student surviving on instant noodles, campus coffee, and whatever spare money remained after tuition payments ripped through your bank account every semester.

when you first made the profile, it had been out of desperation more than anything else. your scholarships weren’t covering enough, your part-time job barely paid minimum wage, and you were tired of staring at your banking app and feeling sick every time the balance dropped lower. then tony stark had messaged you. at first you assumed it was fake. billionaires didn’t just casually appear in your inbox. but somehow it had actually been him, and somehow he had turned out to be funny, charming, and surprisingly easy to talk to

still, that didn’t stop your hands from shaking as you stepped into the restaurant.

the hostess led you toward a private dining area tucked away from the rest of the crowd, and with every step your stomach twisted tighter. what if he hated you in person? what if you said something stupid? what if he took one look at you and immediately regretted every dollar he had ever sent?

then you saw him.

tony was sitting comfortably in his chair with a glass of whiskey in one hand, looking completely relaxed while you felt seconds away from cardiac arrest. he glanced up when he heard footsteps approaching, and the second his eyes landed on you, his entire face changed.

he smiled.

not a polite smile.

not an awkward smile.

a genuine one.

it was warm enough to completely derail every thought in your head.

“well,” he said as he stood, looking you over. “either i’m in the right restaurant or someone accidentally sent a model to my table.

your face immediately burned.

“oh my god.”

“good, she can speak.”

“i’m leaving.”

“you’ve been here six seconds.”

despite yourself, you laughed.

just like that, the tension cracked.

the version of tony you knew through a screen suddenly existed right in front of you, and somehow he was exactly the same. sarcastic. cocky. endlessly entertaining. within minutes the awkwardness started disappearing. by the time appetizers arrived, you were already smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

the conversation flowed effortlessly. he asked about your classes, your professors, the degree you were working toward. unlike most people, he actually seemed interested in the answers. when you complained about a professor assigning three research papers in the same week, he looked genuinely horrified.

“that’s cruel.”

“that’s college.”

“have you considered bribery?”

“with what money?”

“fair point.”

you laughed again, and tony found himself staring for a second longer than he intended.

because the truth was that he had expected tonight to be pleasant.

he had not expected this.

he had not expected you to be so easy to be around.

he had not expected to enjoy every second of the conversation.

and he definitely had not expected to feel strangely protective whenever you casually mentioned skipping meals to save money.

“you do what?” he asked.

you immediately regretted speaking.

“it’s not that bad.”

“you skip meals.”

“sometimes.”

“that’s insane.”

“that’s being a college student.”

tony looked personally offended by the concept.

“absolutely not.”

you laughed into your drink.

“you can’t just ‘absolutely not’ student debt away.”

“watch me.”

“that’s not how the world works.”

“it’s how my world works.”

you rolled your eyes so hard he nearly laughed.

somewhere between dinner and dessert, you realized something unexpected.

you actually liked him.

not because of the money.

not because of the gifts.

not because of the expensive dinners.

you liked talking to him.

you liked how he remembered random details from conversations weeks ago.

you liked how he made you laugh when you were stressed.

you liked how he never treated you like you were stupid.

for someone who could have had absolutely anyone, tony listened to everything you said as though it mattered.

and maybe that was why you found yourself relaxing completely by the end of the night.

when dinner finally ended, neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave.

outside the restaurant, city lights reflected across the pavement while people hurried past in every direction. for a moment neither of you spoke.

then tony shoved his hands into his pockets.

“so.”

“so.”

“i have a question.”

you looked up.

“okay?”

he studied you carefully.

“was this as terrifying as you thought it would be?”

you immediately groaned.

“you have no idea.”

“oh, i do.”

“no, seriously. i almost turned around three times.”

tony laughed.

“good.”

“good?”

“means i’m not the only one.”

you blinked.

“you were nervous?”

“believe it or not, sweetheart, billionaires occasionally get nervous too.”

you stared.

then laughed.

then stared some more.

because somehow, despite the age gap, despite the wealth difference, despite every reason this should have felt strange, standing there with him felt surprisingly easy.

comfortable.

safe.

tony’s expression softened as he looked down at you.

“for the record,” he said quietly, “you exceeded expectations.”

your heart immediately betrayed you.

“that’s a horrible thing to say.”

“why?”

“because now i have to think about what your expectations were.”

he grinned.

“high.”

“you’re impossible.”

“i’ve been told.”

for a second neither of you moved.

then tony gently reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

the gesture was simple.

careful.

unexpectedly sweet.

and suddenly all the anxiety that had followed you into the restaurant hours ago felt completely ridiculous.

because the meeting hadn’t gone horribly.

it hadn’t been awkward.

it hadn’t been disappointing.

if anything, it had gone dangerously well.

and judging by the look in tony’s eyes, he seemed to be realizing the exact same thing.

[the-big-mood]

Hey, did you know archive.org has a bunch of free 90s shows you can stream?

The problem is finding them, since no one's organized them all in one place with covers and episode info. I'm trying to fix that with my new website.

It's in BETA right now, and all the content was just added today, so I've barely scratched the surface of what's out there.

Submit shows and request here

Watch party with synchronized video and chatrooms

[kingcatnine]

guards! read me my bedtime yaoi

[seven-oh-four]

my liege if you keep having all of the guards come to your bedroom to read you bedtime stories, there will be no one to actually guard the castle during that time!

[kingcatnine]

any intruders are welcome to join us for story time

[cvntkisser]

my liege the enemies to lovers yaoi is affecting your perception of the danger of real enemies.

[kingcatnine]

when will it be my turn.

[o-kenki]

[kingcatnine]

holy fuck

[kingcatnine]

happy one year to bedtime yaoi

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

Happiness Will Come To You.

[12goblins]

when tho

[fuckthisbloganditscurses]

When You Least Expect It. Probably Late March

[wizardshark]

reblog for happiness to come for you in late march!

[zigxortega]

[zac--efren]

I reblogged this last year and I hung out with blink-182 backstage on March 30. Reblogging again because it worked the first time.

[scientiablr]

honestly, last year one of the best days of my life happened in late March

[arctic-hands]

I don't see people talking about this so today is the 110th anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, in where the factory owners locked working women and girls inside to "eliminate the risk of theft" (in reality it was too keep them from taking breaks), which resulted in the gruesome deaths of 123 mostly immigrant women and girls and 23 men, many of whom jumped to their deaths from the ninth floor either in a panicked attempt to escape or in order to die quickly. There were reports that some of the workers were on fire already as they jumped.

The eighth floor of the building was able to telephone the tenth floor to warn them about the fire, but the factory on the ninth floor where these women and girls labored had no such communication and such warning.

The factory owners were criminally charged with manslaughter for actions that contributed to the mass deaths but acquitted. However, this tragedy led to mass sympathy to the labor movement, and unions spurred on safety regulations that passed in New York state and eventually the entire country, and activists were able to reduce child labor in the process.

This tragedy is a reminder that has been forgotten in the 110 years since: every safety regulation-- every scrap of paperwork contributing to the hundreds of pages of red tape people like to complain about--every word of it was written in the blood of a laborer.

[grahminradarin]

111th anniversary

[aimmyarrowshigh]

They were discouraged from breaks because they were actively trying to unionize, and bosses felt that keeping them from unsupervised contact would prevent them from joining the garment workers' union.

This is why unions are important. This is why today, right now, the biggest companies in America are trying to squash unionization of their laborers and why those workers are fighting so hard to unionize.

@tikkunolamorgtfo did a great write-up a few years ago about the aftermath of the Triangle Shirtwaist fire, and I highly recommend reading it (and anything else you can about the fire). It is painfully relevant still and it's incredibly important women's, Jewish, immigrants', and workers' history.

[ziziziziboom]

16-year-old Danny Phantom (member of the Justice League Dark) approaches 25-year-old Red Robin.

Danny: Would you like to go on a date?

Tim: I'm sorry, you flatter me, but I think you're too young for me.

Danny: Sorry for the confusion, it wasn't a date with me, but with my gentleman.

Tim: your knight?

Danny: Yes! Technically, he's an adult, so there wouldn't be any problems!

Tim: Technically? How old is he?

Danny: Um... How old is Halloween?

Tim: ...

Danny: Look, I know it's weird, but he's been alone for a long time, and he really loves the way you psychologically terrorize your criminals and how cool you look doing it!

Tim: um...

Danny: And if you don't like it, you'll have a favor from me, you can ask me for anything.

Tim: Whatever I want?

Danny: Whatever you want.

Tim: Deal.

Danny: Great! Fright Knight will come looking for you tomorrow night! Good luck, bye!

Danny disappears.

Jason, who observed the entire interaction: Tim... Did you really just agree to go on a date with a guy who's over three thousand years old?

Tim: Sure, you heard Danny, the guy hasn't been on a date in a long time. I'll get that favor from the king of infinite kingdoms by the end of the night, you'll see.

After the date with Fright Knight.

Tim enters the Batcave: ...

Jason: How did your date go? How bad was it?

Tim: I have two pieces of news, one good and one bad. Which would you like to hear first?

Jason: The bad new?

Tim: I won't be able to get that favor from Danny.

Jason: And the good new?

Tim: I got a boyfriend

[stealingyourbones]

Short DPXDC Prompts #1008

Danny has been virtually taking classes at Gotham University for the past two years now. With the ridiculous amount of labs he has to do he decides to go in person classes. Now, freshly moved into a Gotham apartment, a new page of his life is underway.

[wingwyrm]

“So,” Dick’s voice crackles over the phone. One would think that being both a superhero and the son of a billionaire their phones would work better, but Jason ALSO knows that Dick is literally at the watchtower and that sometimes fucks up the line, “How was your first week?”

“If I asked to you put me out of my misery…?”

Dick cackles and Jason can just imagine him clapping a hand to his chest as he laughs, “Little Wing, you were the one that said you wanted to go back to school.”

“For a GED,” Jason tucks his cell between his ear and shoulder as he tries to shove one more text book into his bag, “I said nothing about college or university.” He sighs and zips his bag, finally ready to leave, “Besides, I already have a job.”

“You can’t be a crime lord forever Jay,” Dick huffs out a little laugh, “And like hell were you gonna look Agent A in the face and say ‘No Alfie, I don’t want to go to university now that I can’.”

Jason’s shoulders slump and he sighs, making his way down the mostly empty hallway. “I mean. He didn’t have to bring it up.”

Jason is well aware that he wanted to continue his education, and had been vocal since hems been twelve about getting a masters degree in English Lit.

He hadn’t expected Alfred to remember that though.

Or Bruce to pay for it.

But. Well. They are family.

“Hey, dude,” someone taps him on the shoulder and Jason spins sharply, startled and defensive. He hadn’t heard anyone come up behind him, how did someone get close enough to him to touch him without him noticing?

“What the fuck!?”

The smaller man leaned back a little, his eyebrows raising even as he held out Jason’s ebook, “You forgot this in the classroom.”

Jason blinks twice, glancing down at the ebook, back up to the man’s face, then to the ebook again. He grimaces and finally takes the ebook with a roll of his eyes, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” the man grins and Jason has to blink again, staring. That is the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen in his life. The man waits for a moment, but Jason is too stuck dumb to remember to say anything. “Well. Okay. Well, I gotta get going.” He shuffles his feet - completely silently - and turns to leave.

He manages two steps before Jason blurts out, “Can I take you out for coffee?”

He stops and looks over his shoulder at Jason. Jason bites the inside of his lip, nervous for the first time in a long time.

“You don’t even know my name.”

“I’m a pretty good detective,” Jason grins, “I may not now it now, but I bet I can find it.”

The other man lights up and his laugh feels like a chilly breeze over the back of Jason’s neck. “Tell you what, hot shot,” he winks at Jason, “You come find me after classes today and tell me my name and I’ll let you take me out for that coffee.”

Dazed, Jason nods, “Deal.”

He watches the man go and nearly jumps when Dick cackles like a fucking hyena in his ear.

“You better,” Dick says though his hysterical laughter, “Get to work on finding the dude’s name, Little Wing.” Dick calms a little and says, “Time for the romance questline, huh?” And Jason hangs up on him.

He could do a basic search of the university students with perimeters, but that feels like a cop out.

And he wants to impress the guy.

[confusedshades]

"So did you find out my name?"

"I did, Daniel." At the face the other made, Jason chuckled. "Thought so. Do you prefer Dan? Danny?"

"Danny please. Dan is my brother."

"Wait, you have a brother called Dan and you're Danny?" Jason laughed as they moved towards the cafe just off campus.

"Hmm hmm. Let's just say creativity with names wasn't my family's forte."

Jason thought back to all the gadgets in the cave. Batmobile, Batcomputer, batarangs... "I think I can sympathize."

"Really hot stuff?" Jason startles, both at the compliment and at the realisation that Danny obviously doesn't know his name. He grins over at the slight man next to him, and grins wider when he sees his eyes dilate a bit.

[ailithnight]

Ooh! I imagine Jason then half-teasingly says "I found out your name on my own. Surely you could figure out mine~." (Only half teasing because he's Jason Freaking Todd-Wayne. It would frankly be more surprising if Danny couldn't figure it out.)

And Danny responds, "Bet," with a confident smirk that has Jason feeling things. He just can't help but grin back.

They go on their coffee date and Jason orders under Hot-Shot. Pays in cash from a clip in his jacket so Danny can't catch his name off any cards. Danny's slight pout at that is adorable. He almost caves right there and tells him. But then Danny shakes the pout off and there's that grin again plus a determined glint. Jason spends enough time with Tim to know what a man rising to the challenge and loving it looks like.

It's a really fun date chatting with and occasionally teasing Danny. By the end of it, Danny tells him he needs some time to do his detective work. Jason had most of the day to find Danny's name, it's only fair. So obviously they'll need to meet up again to see if Danny succeeded or not. Say, tomorrow before class? Yes, that sounds fair.

. . .

Jason comes back to the coffee shop feeling light and happy. But then he sees Danny there, looking fidgety and flighty. Oh. Did he find out Jason's a Wayne and it freaked him out? Jason's heart sinks. Danny asks to take their talk somewhere more private. Jason obliges easily. It's sweet that Danny is trying to be discreet with what is obviously about to be a rejection.

They get their coffee and leave, heading towards campus but ducking into an alley about halfway there. They're alone, but Danny still casts a furtive glance around. Something about the way Danny flicks his gaze around tickles at the back of Jason's brain. There's something familiar in the action. Then those pretty eyes turn on Jason with an intensity that stalls his thoughts.

When Danny speaks, the sound is low. It carries no further than the short couple of feet between them. There's an obvious attempt at levity, but the words shake with nerves. Their content is a shock of ice straight down Jason's spine.

"So... do you prefer Red or Hood or Avenging Knight?"

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ice made it's way down Jason's spine, but he forced a laugh. "What are you talking about?"

Danny just raised one eyebrow at him. "There's no secrets among the dead. And the other ghosts won't stop singing your praises, Sir Knight."

"Dead? Ghosts?" Jason laughed even as he could feel the green tinging the edges of his vision. He took a step back, then another. "Look, maybe this was a mistake."

Danny sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "Fuck, if only Jazz was here. It's okay. I'm dead, too. Died when I was fourteen." He looked around shiftily again and retreated further into the alley.

Jason was debating whether to run or follow when there was a flash of light and Danny changed. Where his classmate had been standing now floated a man with white hair that seemed to move in a non-existent breeze in a black-and-white jumpsuit.

His hand immediately went to the spot where he had a hidden gun. "What the fuck?"

"I'm Phantom. But I really do prefer Danny. Half-dead, half-alive. And you're the Avenging Knight to the ghosts, Red Hood to the living. They all sing your praises, you know. You've really made an impression on the dead of this city."

[moonkidphrase]

watching tony stark create a legion of murder robots to cope with his ptsd: men will do anything but go to theraphy smh

[amazingeurus]

早上的第一杯咖啡当然要叫外卖啦！

[inbabylontheywept]

my wife tried to do the thing where you pull a tablecloth really fast and the dishes stay in place but instead of a tablecloth it was a towel and instead of dishes it was our poor long suffering cat that was just trying to sleep on said towel. poor baby got whipped across the room fast enough that its meow got dopplered into meeeeeeOOOWWwwwwww

[pocket-dictionary]

[10thingsihateabout-all-yall]

Every night i scroll for hours, waiting for the post that sends me into hysterics so i may fall asleep. thank you, goodnight

[cheacegirl]

I made a bad comic and now you have to look at it

[jimmyjrsmusoems]

earlier my husband opened our snack cabinet and something fell out and he put it back and then a second later i heard him say very quietly “no, it chose me” and then he took it and walked away

[joetavis]

Rhodey, when suddenly 14 year old Tony sat in his dorm and he's already filling out the form to change rooms, but then he'd be coming to a halt, like- "no, fate wanted this" and then they become besties

[theconcealedweapon]