BBRae Week 2025

[fastestmanalive333]

BBRae Week Day 2: "I wasnt expecting that"

(I know im way late but a lootttaa stuff was going on in that month.. but anyway here was a fic I was working on for @bbraeweek2025 than forgot about I call it "Night in the Town", hope you all enjoy)

Night in the Town

by @fastestmanalive333 (me)

Gar Logan wandered into the kitchen, craving breakfast. Okay, not really breakfast—he just wanted something sugary to drown out the mess of emotions swirling in his head, Between the chaos after After too many late-night missions, and watching Dick and Kory juggle married life like professionals, Gar felt like the odd man out.

The "Chow Room," as Vic had dubbed it years ago, was unusually quiet. No Donna, no Vic, no noise. Just the smell of coffee.. strong, black, and already brewing.

"Good morning, Garfield. Did you sleep well?"

Raven’s voice startled him so badly that he dropped the box of cereal he’d been reaching for. Clattering Fruit Loops rolled across the counter like tiny, multicolored marbles.

"Rae! You can’t just—like—float into a room like that!" Gar clutched his chest for dramatic effect, which earned him only a raised eyebrow.

"I made coffee," she said, ignoring his theatrics. "I don’t know if it tastes good, but considering most of you seem incapable of functioning without it—"

Gar grabbed a mug and took a sip, immediately gagging. "Bleh! Ugh, Raven! This is awful. But, y’know what? It’s still better than Kory's ‘Tamaranean Space Espresso,’ so I’ll take it."

Raven almost smiled. Almost.

"You didn’t answer my question," she reminded him.

"What question?" Gar slurped the sludge anyway, if only for the caffeine.

"How you slept."

"Oh. Uh…like garbage. Nightmares. Too many. You?"

"Well," she said softly, "thank you for asking. I slept very well."

Before Gar could make a joke about her deadpan tone, the walls practically shook with a familiar voice.

"GARFIELD LOGAN!"

Koriand'r, in all her Tamaranean fury, stormed into the kitchen with Dick trailing behind, hands raised like a man walking into a minefield.

"Kory, babe, come on—" Dick tried.

Kory held up what looked like a designer dress, shimmering emerald green with sequins. Or rather, what used to be a designer dress. It now sported odd claw-like tears down the back.

Gar froze. Oh no.

"You…ruined…my dress!" Kory’s eyes blazed like twin suns.

"Wait, wait! Time out!" Gar held up his hands. "I thought it was an old costume from that gala we did! I needed—"

"A towel?" Kory shrieked.

Gar winced. "…Yeah?"

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose.

Kory jabbed a finger in Gar’s face. "You will replace it! You can explain yourself when you’re doing laundry duty for the next month!"

"But—"

"No buts!" she declared, tossing the ruined fabric at him before flying off in a huff.

Dick gave Gar a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before jogging after his wife. "I told you, man. Never mistake Kory’s wardrobe for laundry."

Gar sighed dramatically and plopped onto the counter. He caught Raven staring at him with that inscrutable look of hers.

"What?" he asked.

"I was just wondering," Raven said calmly, "how someone can make so many stupid decisions before breakfast."

Gar smirked. "It’s a gift. But hey! “Guess I’m kicked out of family fun night. Maybe we could start our own tradition?”

Raven blinked. "Maybe that wouldn’t be so terrible."

"Yeah you know.. Dinner, a show, maybe some dessert after. My treat." He shrugged, pretending not to care, though his stomach was already in knots.

After a long pause, Raven’s lips curved into the tiniest smile. "Very well. I would be…overjoyed to accompany you."

Gar almost fell off the counter. "Wait—really? No sarcasm?"

"No sarcasm."

Dinner was better than Gar expected. He’d suggested Chinese on a whim, not realizing Raven had an absolute love for spicy food. Watching her calmly devour fiery Szechuan noodles without even flinching while he sweated bullets was…honestly adorable.

"You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" he panted.

"A little," she admitted, sipping her tea.

They talked for hours—about Gar’s early acting career, about Raven’s childhood in Azarath how she felt alone at times, about the circus stories Dick had told him once that Raven had never heard. Gar even admitted his dream of performing stand-up comedy, something he’d never told anyone else. To his relief, Raven didn’t laugh at him, well, not in a mean way.

The show—Oklahoma!—was cheesy but fun. Gar whispered terrible jokes during intermission, making Raven roll her eyes and suppress quiet chuckles. By the time the curtain closed, she was humming along to the music, almost relaxed.

And she looked incredible, too. She’d worn a simple white dress threaded with silver, understated but breathtaking. Gar caught more than a few guys staring at her on their way out, which sparked something protective in him. He didn’t like it.

They ended up in a little café in Little Italy, Gar sipping coffee while Raven chose tea. The night felt warm, easy.

"This was…nice," Raven said, her voice softer than usual. "Thank you, Garfield."

"Anytime," Gar replied, grinning. "I mean it. Anytime you wanna get out of the Compound and just…y’know…do normal people stuff, I’m your guy."

Before Raven could answer, the café windows exploded.

Gunfire rattled the night. People screamed. Gar shoved Raven to the floor, shielding her with his body as glass rained down.

"Stay down!" he barked.

"Garfield—" Raven pointed across the room. A man slumped over his pasta, riddled with bullets, blood spreading like spilled wine.

Gar grimaced. "Too late for him."

Raven closed her eyes, trembling slightly. "This wasn’t random. The shooters didn’t want to kill him. Not at first. But something…changed."

Gar scanned the alley outside, noticing cigarette butts, fresh and scattered. "A stakeout. They waited for him."

The wail of police sirens grew closer. Gar pulled Raven to her feet. "Cops’ll handle it. Let’s bounce before they start asking questions we can’t answer."

Back on Titans Island, the other Titans were waiting.

"So, salad head," Vic grinned. "Did you finally get a kiss, or—"

Gar groaned and facepalmed while Raven telekinetically smacked Vic on the head with a spoon.

"Not funny," she said flatly.

"Whoa—wait. You two actually went on a date?" Donna raised her brows. "Huh. Didn’t see that coming."

Kory, to everyone’s surprise, just smirked. "Raven deserves happiness. Garfield is irritating, but he makes her laugh. This is good."

Dick blinked. "Wow. That went better than I thought."

Raven ignored the teasing and noise. Despite the chaos, despite the bullets and blood, she couldn’t help thinking about the way Gar had looked at her when he asked her out. The way he’d shielded her without hesitation. The way he’d made her laugh until her stomach hurt.

He was infuriating, immature, reckless. But he was also brave, kind, and for some reason.. he’d chosen her.

And that thought made her heart flutter in a way that was both terrifying and wonderful.

Later, as Gar collapsed into bed, Raven slipped into his room like a pale wisp of smoke.

"Good night, Garfield," she whispered, pressing the faintest kiss to his temple before vanishing into shadow.

Gar stirred, smiling even in sleep.

Alone in the dark of her own room, Raven touched her lips, still tingling from the kiss she’d just given him. For a long moment, she simply sat there, stunned by the warmth in her chest.

"I…wasn’t expecting that," she admitted softly to the silence.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself smile.

Fin

[the-lighthouse-lit]

BBRae Week Day 2: “I wasn't expecting that”

Length: 1,384 words

Rating: K

@bbraeweek2025 📣

───

I am not a dog.

I don’t know why I look like one. I don’t know how I ended up in this mess.

I am on the curb, in the rain, on a staring contest with the girl shaking the bowl -my bowl- and frowning at me from under her porch.

At this point I can tell what she’s thinking from far away. There’s a storm. You’re getting wet and cold for no reason. But last time she tried to be sneaky and hook a collar on me while I ate from that bowl. I need her to know I’m drawing the line: I’m not okay with that.

Finally she huffs -I can’t hear it with the rain being so loud, but I see the gesture-, leaves my bowl on the ground and goes back inside. I wait a few seconds before I go eat.

─

The first time I met her, wandering her neighborhood, I thought I would’ve given anything to be taken into a family and adopted. I think I hadn’t looked like a dog for long at that point, but I already felt like I’d been forsaken forever. I was hungry, I was cold, I was lost and unsafe: all problems I had to clear out before I even got to my main problem of why I looked like a dog.

I’d tried my luck with all the strangers I came across, quickly getting a crash course on how to read people from a very low vantage point, from the way their jaws set and what their hands did. Some people shot me a dirty look, and that was my only cue to get out of the way before they kicked. A lot stopped to coo at me, some of those to pet me. But no food; no taking me along with them.

Across her house is where I stopped to think, to try to come up with a plan. Where did abandoned dogs go? How did one go about being adopted? Were there tricks I could learn to endear myself to people? Was it all a game of numbers? How did I know the right ones to follow? I didn’t want to get to the point of turning myself in at a shelter, and I didn’t even know how I’d find one. I was lost—the city looked so different from down here.

That’s when a door opened, and a girl left her house, crossed the street and set a bowl of food in front of me. That whole process she said not a word—like she was used to making herself understood without them. She just looked at me, and she only looked at me to make sure I knew the bowl was for me.

Seeing as I still didn’t move, she spoke. “Come. Eat.”

Just like that. Cold and clinical. A little impatient.

After all the people who’d stopped to pet me and gotten away quickly when I’d tried to follow them, after all the parents who’d turned kids away from me; after all the people who’d smiled at me performatively while they kept walking, and those who’d just passed by pretending not to see me, this girl had come out of her house, all comfy clothes and loose hair trailing behind her, just to connect me, unsmiling, to a plate of food.

She only turned to go back to her house once she saw I was eating. I was in love by the time she’d crossed the street.

─

But that’s the whole reason I can’t let her adopt me.

On one of those evenings she said it for the first time. “Do you want to be my dog? I think you like it here. I’d take care of you, you’d take care of me. How’s that sound?”

I didn’t see it immediately. At first, I was just glad to have something stable going for me.

We established a routine where she’d feed me before leaving home for work and on her return. I’d be there waiting patiently when she returned in the afternoon, she’d go inside for a bit and come out in clean clothes and wet hair, she’d bring me food and we’d hang out. I’d always eat on her porch, right by her door. Eventually we moved on from the raw minced meat she’d given me the first few times into actual dog food. When she’d pet me, it was like she’d never had a pet before.

The reality hit me only when she put it like that. I ran off, all the way across the street.

When I looked back, her hand was hovering where she’d been petting me a moment ago. I heard her say, “Well I wasn’t expecting that.”

Message received, I’d thought. I’m not up for adoption.

─

But evidently, I didn’t make myself understood like I thought I had.

Over the next couple of days, she pushed the offer. First, she showed me a leash. I answered that by running off. This began a silent war.

She’d come at me with a leash or a carrier, trying for hours to get me to at least smell it, while I gave a step back for her every step forward. Finally she started just leaving her back door open, and only offering me the bowl inside her house.

I refused to go in.

“Come on,” she tells me from her living room, exasperated. “It’s the same as outside, but it’s warm and there’s always food.”

But it’s not the same. She doesn’t know what she’s offering me. Or rather, who she’s offering it to.

I’m not a dog. I only look like one. How can I enter her house under false pretenses?

“I’m an introvert too. It’s not like you have to be around me all the time.”

I bark—I’m not an introvert at all. More to the point, I don’t want to keep finding out stuff about her when she doesn’t know I understand.

She picks up my bowl and shakes it. I stand in anticipation. Seeing my interest, she tries, one last time, to place it inside next to her. I sit again.

Finally she sighs and puts the bowl outside. The way she’s glaring at me makes my heart ache.

“This isn’t like me, you know!”

That’s all she says. Then she goes back inside and closes the door.

I don’t know what she meant, and that’s exactly the thing. I don’t want to know what she meant. Not like this!

I want to know her as human. I want her to tell me the story of how she got a weirdly smart dog that won’t let her adopt him over a glass of wine, while she’s all made up and coy, and I’m trying half-heartedly not to stare at her the whole time.

I give it a few seconds after she’s closed the door to eat. I think she’s glad when I do eat, no matter how frustrated I make her otherwise.

─

I’ve called a ceasefire because she hasn’t tried to trap, lure or leash me in a few days. After the storm didn’t make me fold, she seems to have given up. Tonight, I let her pet me comfortably because she closed the door when she came out to feed me. It's bittersweet.

She talks to me like you’d talk to a pet; stilted, more for herself than for me, and trusting her tone to carry her meaning. Right now she says, like we’ve been arguing out loud all along, “But you can’t be an outside dog. Not with the cold coming.”

Well. I had hoped to resolve my situation before then, but she’s right. I leaned in on her, as if to show her I saw the direness of the situation too. What the hell are we gonna do, girl?

“You’re too smart for your own good. I’ve never seen a dog so smart.”

Funny. Before this, I remember being called dumb for the better part of my life.

“Maybe I could get a catio…”

I don’t bark to tell her she got the wrong species. I can appreciate she said it as shorthand, because she’s deep in thought. And maybe there isn’t a catio equivalent for dogs.

I wouldn’t know. Truth is, I was a cat person myself before all this.

───

Notes:

The fact this is out today is a MIRACLE, seeing as my brain was living two whole weeks in the past and I was still at the vague stage of ‘wow I need to get those things done for BBRae Week ❤️’.

I’m also doing Day 6. It seems tradition now for me to shoot for 3 prompts and manage to do 2 *shrug*

Anyway, enjoy this weird little story with a conundrum that came right the fuck out of nowhere and even I don’t know how they solve. ❤️❤️❤️

[the-lighthouse-lit]

Now up on AO3!

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 7: You’re better than this

Welp, that was a good BBRae week. A shame not a lot of folks participated.

Also, make something up about this pic. Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

[serrj215]

"You're better than this."

" I wish I was!" he snarled back holding her down. " I know exactly how stupid this idea is but I don't got anything better!"

"Garfield get off of me right now or I'm going to put you into that wall." Raven's own control was starting to slip, not sure if it was her own anger or the Beast Boy's feelings radiating off him.

"You wouldn't hurt me Rea." He said through gridded teeth. "I know I'm basically holding myself hostage. I know I got a tiger by the tail but you are not going on that mission."

"You can't keep me here forever?"

"I'll let you go as soon as you listen to reason."

"Listen or obey?" she spat back.

"Whichever one is going to keep you from getting killed."

" Gar I am not-"

" Yes, you are Rae," his voice cracking. " this isn't Mad Mod, or Slade or even your father. I've seen it. Please believe me you are going to die tomorrow unless I can stop you from going.

He was telling the truth. Raven wasn't sure what Beast Boy saw, but he believed that wholeheartedly.

"I am sorry" she said softly.

That was enough to break him. Beast Boy's rage melted into a profound relief. Then the tears came. "Rae I would rather you hate me for the rest of my life, then"

"It's okay" she whispered "I am sorry. Come here."

Beast Boy brought his face closer and she craned her head up to kiss him. The kiss deapend. They both relaxed. Beast Boy released her wrists, to wrap his arms around her.

The kiss broke and she whispered. "I am sorry" with calculated force force she rammed her forehead into the bridge of his nose.

Raven rolled Beast Boy off of her. he was out cold blood starting to trickle down his face. she checked him quickly making sure there was no permanent damage but she was fairly sure she broke his nose.

" I love you Gar, but I need to do this." she Rose to her feet. " The amount of life that could be lost is staggering. if I did nothing I don't think I could live with myself. "

The swirl of black energy a portal appeared. "I am sorry" she said before disappearing through it.

Skidz, this work? Best I can do on the fly.

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 7: You’re better than this

Welp, that was a good BBRae week. A shame not a lot of folks participated.

Also, make something up about this pic. Idk 🤷🏻‍♀️

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 6: You can’t run forever

Not liking how it came out :/…

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 5: Is nobody going to say it?

So, the uncropped version is not THAT bad but, it’s a little too spicy for Tumblr. You can view it on my nsfw BlueSky!! Send me a message if you want the link!! NO MINORS

[serrj215]

Hiding, Healing, or Running away. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66007765 (All my work is avilable on AO3)

They all expected him to fall apart.  That would have been normal, even healthy.  They expected crying, sadness, and anger, because that’s what they all felt.  They lost a friend, but he lost his wife. They didn’t expect him to harden like he did. 

Beast Boy didn’t say a word at her funeral. In fact, he barely moved. He just sat there as still as the gravestones.  In the weeks that followed, there were no jokes, no conversation; when he spoke, it was utilitarian phrases. "Excuse me"  and "Please pass the soy milk".  On missions, he was all business.  No one liners, or puns.  His friends' attempts to distract or include him were met with a too polite. "Thank you, but I am okay," and he would walk away. 

It was like all that made Garfield Logan, Beast Boy, was drained away and discarded like old engine oil, and replaced with something else. 

This stretched on and on and on.  It was a cold, wet morning.   Overcast, clouds so thick that they hid the sunrise.  Robin came down to find Cyborg in the living room staring at the TV. He was watching the screen flash game over again and again.  

"Rob, I am worried about him," Cyborg said as he put down the Game Station controller. 

"Good morning to you, too.  How long have you been up?"  

"Didn't go to bed last night,"  he said as he rubbed his non-mechanical eye.  "I played Game Station and tried to think about what to say to him."

Robin sat down next to him and looked at the paused screen.  

"Come up with anything?"

"Nothing that didn’t sound like it came out of a cheap greeting card."

"It's been a year,"  Robin said under his breath.

"Yeah, like saying that makes it alright. " Cyborg said, coming to his feet. He stretched his back.  "Beast Boy, Ravens had been dead for a year! So please go back to being yourself!"  He raised his hands in the air.

"Is he hurting himself? No, has he been living up to his responsibilities? Yes. "

"His responsibilities?  Robin, when you say crap like that…come with me"

Cyborg led Robin back to the bedrooms and used his code to open Beast Boy’s old room. Robin didn’t recognize it.  The place was immaculate, and nearly bare save for the bunk bed and a desk. If it was not for the few boxes under the bottom bunk, clearly marked comics, and games. He would have thought no one ever lived there. 

Cyborg then led to Raven's room, which was just as clean. Everything was just as the half-demon had left it.  There were a few oddities.  A small Lego T-Car was on one of the shelves.  At the end of one bookshelf, a small collection of graphic novels.  The beginnings of two lives starting to merge, cut short. 

"He is living up the his responsibilities all right!  6:07 am, he has been in the training room for over an hour.  When we aren't on missions, he is either training or in here reading Raven's books.” Cyborg raised his hand to the massive bookshelves.

"Cyborg, he is dealing with it. " Robin said flatly.

"That’s it, Rob. He. Is. Not. " Cyborg faced him. "If he were a mess, that might be something; if he cried and couldn’t get out of bed, no one would blame him,  and we would have tried to help.  Even at the Funeral, he didn't shed a tear. He was a green statue the whole time."

"He was in shock, Some people just shut down when tragedy touches them!"

"Yeah, he shut down, but he never restarted! When was the last time he laughed? Or told a joke? Even smiled?  He has not touched a video game or a comic since it happened. When was the last time he did anything that he loved?" He pleaded with Robin; they just stood there in the dark room that once belonged to their lost friend.  "Rob…DICK he isn't himself! He is not Beast Boy. In a lot of ways, we lost them both that day. "

"Cyborg, we have all lost people we--"

"You know guys when Cyborg and I snuck in here that time, Rae was pissed." Beast Boy said as he stood in the open doorway. His hair was wet, and a towel was across his shoulders.  He had just come from the shower in the gym. "I got to say, I am not thrilled about you guys being in here either." He walked past them calmly and threw the wet towel in a hamper in the closet.  He turned and faced them both, the silence chilled the dark room by 10 degrees. 

"In case you're wondering, I heard everything from 'Cyborg, he is dealing with it.' " Beast Boy said, doing air quotes with his fingers. 

"Beast Boy, maybe we need to get you out of here," Cyborg suggested.  "Maybe three of us get some-"

"Maybe you need to get out of here.  Maybe you both need to respect my privacy."  Beast Boy replied almost too quietly. "

The moment felt like a standoff.  There was no villain or hostage, no bomb, yet it felt like something was going to explode at any moment with each quiet second passing. 

"We are worried about you," Robin stated, breaking the silence.  "You have changed a lot."

"I needed to." Beast Boy stated. "Is there something wrong with the changes? Is there something wrong with me being neater?  Or Robin, is it bothering you that I am the new king of the training room? Cyborg, is there something wrong with me trying to learn things instead of moving guys on a screen, and solving meaningless puzzles?  Is there? Cause the bad guys I have helped catch would have something to say about that! And the lives of the people we have saved might too!" 

"There is something wrong with that, if it’s how you're hiding from the pain," Robin put as much authority in his voice as he dared.

"Hiding from it? I am living in it!" He spat at them both. “Do you think there is a single day, an hour, that I do not think about her. I still see her meditating in the common room and reading in that bed every time I walk in here, then I remember it all again, and you are wondering why?” 

Beast Boy paced the room. 

"For a detective you are fucking dense.  Maybe if I robbed a bank or something, you could figure this out.  Let me save you the trouble."  He folded his arms. "You, Cyborg, Starfire, and Raven were the brains, heart, strength, and soul of this team.  I am the comic relief. I am the expendable one!  I should be on the ground right now, NOT HER!"  He nearly screamed those last words. 

"B, Gar, we are just" Robin started.

"Now we don’t have anyone who understands magic or mysticism,  but hey! We got the green guy who changes into ducks and makes bad jokes!  We will be fine! So I am picking up the slack.  I am training, and I am learning, trying to push back the eventual massive ass kicking that’s going to fall on us since Raven isn't here and I am!"

"That’s not going to happen, B., " Cyborg stepped forward.

"Oh yes, it is, and you know it!"  Beast Boy turned to him.  "Brother Blood is going to pop back up, or Felix Faust or Klarion is going to get tired of Gotham!,  and what the hell are any of us going to do?" 

Robin and Cyborg looked back and forth at each other.   This was the most emotion they had gotten out of their friend in forever, neither was sure what to do, not about the Villains that Beast Boy had rattled off, but what to do about Beast Boy.  

" The only hope we have is that the universe figures out how severely it fucked up! Switches us around, and that Raven finds her room was clean!"

"Beast Boy, we are just-"

"Just what?"  Beast Boy got into Robin's face.  "You're telling me that I am hiding from pain,  well, you are the expert, raised by a guy that dug a cave and put on a bat suit to hide from it.  "

"That’s enough!" thundered.  

The three men did not notice Starfire enter the room. She stood on the ground, which was different; she usually hovered. Her firsts pulsing with energy, and her eyes were full of tears.  "I could hear you from the roof, and I think I could feel you from the moon."  She said, though sobs. 

 "You heard the lady.” Beast Boy sat down on the bed. "I know you care, all of you.  I "

ERRRR   ERRR  ERRRR

"Trouble," Robin said flatly. 

Starfire, Robin, and Cyborg stood there like it was their first day. Beast Boy was already out the door.  This, whatever this was, had to wait; there was a city to save. 

That first alert was just the beginning. Alert, after alert hit like a row of dominoes. It just happens like that sometimes.  By the time Titans returned home, they were exhausted, and each one went straight to bed.   At least they thought. 

The next morning. 

"Green bean,"  Cyborg said, knocking on the door.  "Come out,  I am making pancakes, and I will fry up that Tofu bacon you like?"   Cyborg waited for a moment.   "Okay,  I will fry it up first instead of the real bacon so it will be completely flavorless, just as you like it!"

There was still no answer.  

Cyborg decided to risk it and used his override code.  The door slid open, the room was empty. Everything was gone: the books, the art, the furniture, and its occupant. 

"ROBIN!"  Cyborg yelled out as he jogged to the next door.  Beast Boy's old room was in the same state, just bare walls and a window. 

Robin, bound in shock, covered him as he looked around.  "How the hell did he do this?"  

"Better question! Where the hell did he go?"  Cyborg started tracking Beast Boys com device.  "Wasn't expecting that." He looked up at Robin. "He is in the kitchen?" 

They both raced down.  They did not find Beast Boy.  They did find his com unit.   It was in the fridge on top of a pizza box.  There was a note written on the cardboard lid.

Guys,

I am sorry.   You were right, all of you in your own ways.  Before you jump to conclusions, I have not done anything stupid.   I just need time, and I think I need to spend it away from here.   Please do not come looking for me.  I will wander back on my own when I am ready.  I reached out to Kid Flash and Jinx, they will be there soon, so the Team won't suffer.  

I do love you all, please believe that.   

-Garfield Logan. 

The remaining Titans, after much debate, decided to respect Beast Boy's wishes. Now and again, they would get an odd report.  A bank heist in Morocco stopped when an elephant stepped on a getaway car.   A search and rescue team assisted by a massive Ape in the Yucatan peninsula.  They knew he was out there.   And when he was ready, he would have a home to come back to.  

[serrj215]

Just the Essentials

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65897287 (You can find all my works on AO3)

“I can't believe it”. Cyborg started, “They're actually married.”  He started opening up the kitchen cabinets, gathering tools and ingredients.  

Starfire rushed over to him from the table. “Cyborg. It's true, we have it all recorded. I can retrieve it for you.”  She started searching her phone, floating absently in the kitchen. 

“I know they got married, Star, it's just a big thing to accept.”  

“But it was so joyful!” she sighed. “I will watch it again anyway.”

Nightwing just sat at the kitchen table, an odd smile on his face, not sure what to add to the conversation.  

It was about two in the afternoon, the day after the wedding of the most unlikely couple in the world.  Beast Boy and Raven were married.  

Starfire was right, it was a beautiful and simple ceremony. The reception was the real event, though, and the party did not stop until almost 3 am. The entire team had slept in. Cyborg was making the latest breakfast he had ever cooked, hoping to feed the happy couple before a quiet sendoff for their honeymoon. 

“So I guess it’s yours and Star's turn now.”  Cyborg turned to Nightwing, whose face started to turn a dark shade of red, then white, when Starfire just erupted with different wedding ideas.  Earth customs, Tameranin customs, she was just starting to talk about the ritual combat when Beast Boy swaggered into the kitchen. 

“Hello, everybody! Oh, you may not recognize me. I am Mr. Raven. Nice to meet you,”  he said with a smile almost too big for his face.  

“Funny B. Where is your much better half?” Cyborg asked, stirring the pot of oatmeal.

“Finishing packing, she will be down in a minute. I really can’t wait for this.” 

“You and Raven all set?”  

“Yep,” Beast Boy swung a small bag onto the kitchen counter. The bag itself was barely the size of a loaf of bread. It was one of those small zipper bags people usually have for keeping toiletries.  “All packed.” 

All three Titans looked at him. Then at each other.  

“Okay, is nobody going to say it?” Nightwing looks between his teammates.  

“Say what, dude?”  Beast Boy looked confused. 

Nightwing picked up the bag by its looped handle. “You're leaving for your honeymoon. It's going to be two weeks.” He lifted the bag up and down a few times to judge its weight. “You crammed everything you need into this?” 

“Says the guy that has an entire hardware store in his belt.”

“Two weeks' worth of clothes in…in this?”

“Clothes?” Beast Boy asked. He takes the bag back from Nightwing. “No, I'm just bringing the essentials.” He said to unzipping the bag. “See, two boxes of condoms, a few power bars, and a pair of clean underwear.” 

Beast Boys teammates wore a mix of shock and confusion on their faces.   

Cyborg put the bowl he was holding down. “B, you are going on your honeymoon. I think you're gonna need a little bit more than that.” 

Beast Boy looked at the bag again. “You know what, I do think I am forgetting something?” he started rummaging through the bag for a clue. 

Raven wondered in quietly said a simple “Good morning”  before changing course to her kettle. 

Once her Tea was poured, she turned to the counter, noticing Beast Boy with his bag. 

“Gar, would you mind putting my bag away too?”  she said, pecking him on the cheek. 

She placed a nearly identical bag on the counter while she sipped her Tea. 

“Not you too! Didn't anyone ever teach either of how to pack for a trip?” Nightwing exclaimed.

“I do not understand. I got everything I need in that bag.” She placed her teacup on the counter and unzipped the bag for everyone to see. “Negligee, handcuffs, and lube.” She said flatly.

“That's what I forgot!”  Beast Boy wrapped his arms around her. “You think of everything. I got a good wife.” 

There were questions, lots of questions, and no one was brave enough to ask any of them. 

“Gar, we are going to be late.”  

“My wife is right as always,  We'll see you guys in two weeks. Don't let the city blow up without us, huh?” He said, grabbing the loops of both bags, and the happy couple headed out the door, leaving the three people standing there in dismay. 

“Is this not normal for the Moons of Honey? I would think they would want to bring bread.”  Starfire asked once the three of them were alone.  

Beast Boy couldn't hold it anymore.  As soon as the elevator door closed, he started laughing, almost doubling over.  “Did you see their faces?” 

Raven only responded with a small smile, asking, “You did put our real bags in the car already, right?” 

Beast Boy nodded, wiping tears from his eyes.  “Look at you, I must be rubbing off on you.  The handcuffs! That was a nice touch, Mama.”

“Well, just because I let you do this little joke as a wedding present doesn't mean that they won't be put to use,” she said deadpan. 

“Rae?” Beast Boy stopped laughing. “Like, seriously?” 

She looked at him, and a hungry smile flashed across her face. A moment later, she had him pinned against the wall of the elevator, her mouth crushed to his, her hands running up and down his chest.  She broke away after the elevator reached the garage, the doors opened and closed again. 

She stated simply, “This is our honeymoon, after all.”

********************************************************

So it's been a while. It kinda feels like when I posed my first fic again. The uncertainty of who would read, and who would like it. But I remember I didn't write this for anyone else. I wrote to see if I could do it. I enjoyed it. This is probably a little rougher than my older work. I am using some mussels that have not been put to work in a long time. So I am open to suggestions as I get back into creative shape. Thank you.

[inquitxotic]

Conference Dismissal

my second submission for bbrae week 2025, this is my very desperate attempt at humour

All she has to do is sit still and listen to Robin for an hour, if only a certain green shapeshifter wasn't being so irritating. Submission for BBRae Week 2025: "Caution: May Bite"

[relentlesslyoptimisticsblog]

Ummm…

So my contribution to BBRae week day 4: Caution: May Bite is….

Rated ‘M’

Raven might be a succubus and Gar might have fallen for her.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65948452

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 4: Caution: May Bite

👀👀👀

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 3: I Do

[the-lighthouse-lit]

BBRae Week Day 2: “I wasn't expecting that”

Length: 1,384 words

Rating: K

@bbraeweek2025 📣

───

I am not a dog.

I don’t know why I look like one. I don’t know how I ended up in this mess.

I am on the curb, in the rain, on a staring contest with the girl shaking the bowl -my bowl- and frowning at me from under her porch.

At this point I can tell what she’s thinking from far away. There’s a storm. You’re getting wet and cold for no reason. But last time she tried to be sneaky and hook a collar on me while I ate from that bowl. I need her to know I’m drawing the line: I’m not okay with that.

Finally she huffs -I can’t hear it with the rain being so loud, but I see the gesture-, leaves my bowl on the ground and goes back inside. I wait a few seconds before I go eat.

─

The first time I met her, wandering her neighborhood, I thought I would’ve given anything to be taken into a family and adopted. I think I hadn’t looked like a dog for long at that point, but I already felt like I’d been forsaken forever. I was hungry, I was cold, I was lost and unsafe: all problems I had to clear out before I even got to my main problem of why I looked like a dog.

I’d tried my luck with all the strangers I came across, quickly getting a crash course on how to read people from a very low vantage point, from the way their jaws set and what their hands did. Some people shot me a dirty look, and that was my only cue to get out of the way before they kicked. A lot stopped to coo at me, some of those to pet me. But no food; no taking me along with them.

Across her house is where I stopped to think, to try to come up with a plan. Where did abandoned dogs go? How did one go about being adopted? Were there tricks I could learn to endear myself to people? Was it all a game of numbers? How did I know the right ones to follow? I didn’t want to get to the point of turning myself in at a shelter, and I didn’t even know how I’d find one. I was lost—the city looked so different from down here.

That’s when a door opened, and a girl left her house, crossed the street and set a bowl of food in front of me. That whole process she said not a word—like she was used to making herself understood without them. She just looked at me, and she only looked at me to make sure I knew the bowl was for me.

Seeing as I still didn’t move, she spoke. “Come. Eat.”

Just like that. Cold and clinical. A little impatient.

After all the people who’d stopped to pet me and gotten away quickly when I’d tried to follow them, after all the parents who’d turned kids away from me; after all the people who’d smiled at me performatively while they kept walking, and those who’d just passed by pretending not to see me, this girl had come out of her house, all comfy clothes and loose hair trailing behind her, just to connect me, unsmiling, to a plate of food.

She only turned to go back to her house once she saw I was eating. I was in love by the time she’d crossed the street.

─

But that’s the whole reason I can’t let her adopt me.

On one of those evenings she said it for the first time. “Do you want to be my dog? I think you like it here. I’d take care of you, you’d take care of me. How’s that sound?”

I didn’t see it immediately. At first, I was just glad to have something stable going for me.

We established a routine where she’d feed me before leaving home for work and on her return. I’d be there waiting patiently when she returned in the afternoon, she’d go inside for a bit and come out in clean clothes and wet hair, she’d bring me food and we’d hang out. I’d always eat on her porch, right by her door. Eventually we moved on from the raw minced meat she’d given me the first few times into actual dog food. When she’d pet me, it was like she’d never had a pet before.

The reality hit me only when she put it like that. I ran off, all the way across the street.

When I looked back, her hand was hovering where she’d been petting me a moment ago. I heard her say, “Well I wasn’t expecting that.”

Message received, I’d thought. I’m not up for adoption.

─

But evidently, I didn’t make myself understood like I thought I had.

Over the next couple of days, she pushed the offer. First, she showed me a leash. I answered that by running off. This began a silent war.

She’d come at me with a leash or a carrier, trying for hours to get me to at least smell it, while I gave a step back for her every step forward. Finally she started just leaving her back door open, and only offering me the bowl inside her house.

I refused to go in.

“Come on,” she tells me from her living room, exasperated. “It’s the same as outside, but it’s warm and there’s always food.”

But it’s not the same. She doesn’t know what she’s offering me. Or rather, who she’s offering it to.

I’m not a dog. I only look like one. How can I enter her house under false pretenses?

“I’m an introvert too. It’s not like you have to be around me all the time.”

I bark—I’m not an introvert at all. More to the point, I don’t want to keep finding out stuff about her when she doesn’t know I understand.

She picks up my bowl and shakes it. I stand in anticipation. Seeing my interest, she tries, one last time, to place it inside next to her. I sit again.

Finally she sighs and puts the bowl outside. The way she’s glaring at me makes my heart ache.

“This isn’t like me, you know!”

That’s all she says. Then she goes back inside and closes the door.

I don’t know what she meant, and that’s exactly the thing. I don’t want to know what she meant. Not like this!

I want to know her as human. I want her to tell me the story of how she got a weirdly smart dog that won’t let her adopt him over a glass of wine, while she’s all made up and coy, and I’m trying half-heartedly not to stare at her the whole time.

I give it a few seconds after she’s closed the door to eat. I think she’s glad when I do eat, no matter how frustrated I make her otherwise.

─

I’ve called a ceasefire because she hasn’t tried to trap, lure or leash me in a few days. After the storm didn’t make me fold, she seems to have given up. Tonight, I let her pet me comfortably because she closed the door when she came out to feed me. It's bittersweet.

She talks to me like you’d talk to a pet; stilted, more for herself than for me, and trusting her tone to carry her meaning. Right now she says, like we’ve been arguing out loud all along, “But you can’t be an outside dog. Not with the cold coming.”

Well. I had hoped to resolve my situation before then, but she’s right. I leaned in on her, as if to show her I saw the direness of the situation too. What the hell are we gonna do, girl?

“You’re too smart for your own good. I’ve never seen a dog so smart.”

Funny. Before this, I remember being called dumb for the better part of my life.

“Maybe I could get a catio…”

I don’t bark to tell her she got the wrong species. I can appreciate she said it as shorthand, because she’s deep in thought. And maybe there isn’t a catio equivalent for dogs.

I wouldn’t know. Truth is, I was a cat person myself before all this.

───

Notes:

The fact this is out today is a MIRACLE, seeing as my brain was living two whole weeks in the past and I was still at the vague stage of ‘wow I need to get those things done for BBRae Week ❤️’.

I’m also doing Day 6. It seems tradition now for me to shoot for 3 prompts and manage to do 2 *shrug*

Anyway, enjoy this weird little story with a conundrum that came right the fuck out of nowhere and even I don’t know how they solve. ❤️❤️❤️

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 2: I wasn’t expecting that.

So guys, what DIDN’T they expect???

[relentlesslyoptimisticsblog]

I did that thing again where I smashed some words to together.

This time I smashed a bunch of religious words together and attempted to make it silly.

For BBRae week day 2: “I wasn’t expecting that”

Actually, I had lots of fun with this one:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65916811

It does bear the question though:

What colour bra do you think Raven would wear?

[skidzzart]

@bbraeweek2025 Day 1: Hot Take

[relentlesslyoptimisticsblog]

Happy BBRae week everyone!!

Here’s my first submission for the prompt: “Hot takes”.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65883298

My hot takes are pretty mild, don’t worry.

I was inspired by watching my old dog, Percy, snore in his sleep as the house was quiet.

Sadly, that old dog passed away not long after I finished writing it and my house hasn’t been the same since.

Miss you, Percy. You were old and fat and stole food right from my hand but dammit you were so very loved. RIP.