ooops I accidentally—
Jaded: Epilogue
ao3
SUMMARY: Truth, justice, and hangover cures? The Titans recover from a wild night out, and navigate through their first scandal (also not me name dropping @swiftlark in a fic for a pairing she doesn't even ship PFT love yew eliza)
Mid-morning sun washed in through the big window, bathing the common room in crisp, cleansing light. The day felt fresh—bright, and full of possibility.
“Fffheeeeuughhhh…”
…Full of possibility—and hangover cures. One mug of which Starfire had just set aside to rub her boyfriend’s back sympathetically.
Fearless leader Robin slumped beside her on the couch, swaddled in a gray blanket like a grumpy raincloud.
At the stove, Cyborg flipped a sizzling slice of bacon. Shaking his head, he called over his shoulder.
“That’s what eight shots gets you, feather-weight!”
Robin glared out the window, as if turning his head to face the abuse was too much effort.
“I was trying to keep up with her.” he grumbled, pointing his accusation toward the bemused alien.
Starfire giggled, ruffling his bedhead gently.
“Your Earthen spirits are no match for the Tamaranean constitution, dearest.”
“Well how was I supposed to know that!”
Cyborg snorted, stacking a plate high with sausages.
“Y'all are a mess.” he teased as he switched off the burner. “Guess everyone’s having an off morning. Haven’t even seen Raven yet.”
He lifted his tray. “Hope she and BB aren't still fighting.”
At that, Robin finally turned—no, whipped his head around.
“No.” His voice held genuine horror. “Tell me they’re not in an argument.”
It was cosmic law: an ancient rune etched in stone.
If Beast Boy and Raven were fighting, everyone had to suffer.
“Think they were yesterday.” Cyborg shrugged, making his way towards the couch.
The disclosure pulled a tortured groan from the nauseous depths of Robin’s stomach.
“Great. Another Cold War.”
“Ain’t nothin’ ‘cold’ about getting caught in that crossfire.”
Robin sighed, sinking down into the cushions. “New rule: If Beast Boy and Raven fight, they’re fired.”
Scrunching her nose, Starfire flicked the back of his head.
“OUCH—Star!” her boyfriend yelped.
She patted his knee sweetly.
“I believe you require all the help you can get, Beloved.”
Cyborg chuckled. “Your girlfriend’s right, we’ll need all hands on deck for combat training this afternoon.”
Robin stiffened. They watched the battle unfold: his pounding headache against his stubborn pride. Then his eyes fell closed in resigned defeat.
“Training is canceled. Indefinitely.”
“Woah—you really are hungover!” Cyborg’s eye gleamed with mischief. “Know what? I like when you drink. Gets me a day off.”
Robin glared through his mask. “You’re fired.”
“I don’t take orders from blanket gremlins.”
“Well, I don’t—”
The room flashed red in sync with the wailing crime alert.
Robin looked up at God. “Oh, come ON!”
-
“Is he actually unconscious this time, or just faking again?”
Five faces peered down at the pavement.
“Do we care?” Raven asked dryly.
Control Freak twitched against the asphalt, moaning something definitely not English.
Cyborg shrugged. “Nope!” The p popped like a cork from a bottle.
On that note, the paramedics scraped up what was left of the villain and hauled his remains into a flickering ambulance. Robin wiped cold sweat from his brow, shifting uneasily on the sidewalk as he fought to ignore his migraine.
“Nice work, guys.”
Starfire yawned, hugging herself against the brisk morning air.
“The reprobates rest for nothing as of late.”
Stretching his arms high overhead, Gar sighed. “Yeahh, crime-fighting on no sleep? Not really my thing.”
Cyborg bowed over the hood of a cop car blocking traffic. With dramatic flair, he signed the last piece of paperwork, then handed it off to the officer.
“Ookay,” he rolled his shoulder, scanning the street for damage. “Who wants second breakfaaaahhs—”
His sentence came to a screeching halt.
Cyborg froze, stone still, jaw dropping with a mechanical clang.
“Uh…” Gar broke the silence. “What?”
The shock on his friend’s face cracked, then shattered into a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, Rob,” Cyborg said, voice dripping with smugness. “Guess they’re done arguing.”
Robin frowned.
“What are yo—”
His mask strained as both eyebrows shot sky high.
“Oh.”
One by one, the others twirled to view the sight that had locked Cyborg in place…
And honestly? Raven could have died.
Five Titans stood in a row, all staring at a magazine stand.
Where, on every cover—every single cover—were hometown heroes, Beast Boy and Raven…
Kissing.
Really, to call it a kiss was generous.
It was more like a collision.
Like a horrible car crash that bent space and slowed time. A smoking impact of reckless want, smoldering with barely resolved tension. The kind of wreck she never wanted to witness—but couldn’t look away from, no matter how desperately she tried.
It was violent. Messy. Immortalized in shiny print.
On sale.
Raven drank it in, every detail like poison sliding down her throat. Her body reacted first—nausea curling low and hot as humiliation clawed its way up.
Fuck.
When she’d first slipped into the dress in her room, she’d known it might draw some attention—but not like this…
…Had the back really hung that low?
Silk spilled like emerald ink down her spine, lapping just beneath his hungry grip on bare skin.
Her pulse kicked. Faint vibrations shivered through the manhole cover under her feet.
Just yesterday, she’d dreaded this very scenario. But seeing him so crushed, she’d acted in a moment of sheer idiocy—or love, or somewhere in between. She hadn’t accounted for this part, and thinking too hard on it now might make her blow up the stupid magazine stand.
Gently, she reminded herself that this had been the intention. To put rumors to rest. To kiss him like she meant it.
She had meant it.
But seeing it now, in the stark light of day…
The way they melted into each other… it looked seamless. Intimate.
Sexy.
Every cell in her sparked. Heat rushed to her face.
No. Bad. Not sexy. Awful. Mortifying.
Raven tried to breathe, but the air caught on her shame.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—
They’d all been gawking, too silent for too long. And then—
“You went shopping without me?!?!” Starfire shrieked, spinning to smack Raven on the arm. Clearly, she was focused on the real issues.
Cyborg bolted to the stand, snatching a copy like it owed him money. He stared then burst into laughter.
Raven flushed as red as Beast Boy was green.
“Ohh-ho-ho-hooo…” Cyborg wheezed, barely breathing. “Man, look who made the front page!”
Robin didn’t laugh. His mask narrowed. “Perfect. A scandal. Just what I wanted to deal with today.”
“I cannot fathom you did not invite me!” Starfire huffed, eyeing the dress. “And where did you purchase that?”
Cyborg just grinned, nodding at the picture. “Atta boyyy, B!”
Gar—who, for the past two minutes, had perceived nothing but the image on the cover and the sexy jazz playing in his head—was yanked back to this plane of existence by the subtle buzz beneath his feet.
The manhole cover rattled. Slowly, Gar lifted his eyes to the source of the tremor.
Raven stood motionless, eyes fixed straight ahead. Her chest stilled a beat too long.
She hadn’t even pulled up her hood.
That’s when it hit him. This wasn’t just regular mortified Raven.
She was absolutely, overwhelmingly not okay.
So, he did the only thing he could. He threw himself to the wolves.
Stepping forward, Beast Boy faced the others.
“We had to do something,” he shrugged, mouth curving into a devious smile. “Couldn’t have Bird Boy grinding on the front cover.”
Correction—he threw Robin to the wolves.
Robin froze, stuttering through an awkward laugh.
“Heh, we weren’t…” he shot a quick look at his girlfriend, “Were we?”
Gar plucked the magazine from Cyborg’s grasp and flipped it open.
He grinned slyly.
“Well, according to page four…”
They swarmed him like moths to a flame.
One scandalous photo sprawled across two full pages: Robin pressed snugly behind Starfire on the dance floor, her fingers tangled in his hair, his grip firm at her hip. Dusty lights blurred the background, isolating them from the crowd. It was cinematic… and left very little to the imagination.
Cyborg swiped it back with unholy glee.
“OHHH-hooo, this one’s even worse!”
Robin lunged.
“Give me that!”
He snatched the booklet, glaring at the picture like he could will it out of existence. Dawning horror colored his tone.
“How did—? What—! Starfire! You were sober!”
Starfire blinked thoughtfully, then spun toward Raven, who hadn’t joined their huddle.
“Did you get it downtown?”
Robin groaned.
“I need to make a call.”
He snapped his comm open and hit speed dial for the Titans’ long-suffering PR manager. “Eliza? Yeah—it’s Robin. We have a situation.”
With the tabloid clutched in one hand and Starfire in the other, he scurried, Cyborg trailing behind snickering unhelpful commentary into the mic.
From behind the counter, the newsstand attendant called out,
“Uh… you gonna pay for that?”
As the chaos faded, so did Gar’s grin. He lingered behind his girlfriend, concern furrowed in his brow.
Finally, Raven broke the spell of embarrassment, dropping her eyes to the ground. She drew in a steady breath, tracing the cracks in the cement with her gaze. On her next inhale, she noted the sharp scent of gasoline. The distant hum of passing cars seeped through the quiet. Her heartbeat slowed, and the manhole cover settled.
She’d nearly recomposed herself when a figure brushed past, drawing her focus up.
Garfield plodded over to the stand, pausing to admire the cover before picking up a copy.
“Damn, we look good,” he whistled, flashing a smile over his shoulder. “You especially.”
A rosy blush bloomed across her nose. She yanked up her hood a second too late.
“Yeah,” she scowled, “amazing.”
She’d barely turned when he captured her arm.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?” His tone was far too cool.
Curbing her fluster, Raven kept her voice taut. “As far away from that as possible.”
Gar smiled innocently like he wasn’t playing with fire. “We can’t leave yet, silly.”
Her suspicion sharpened. “Why would we stay?”
That smile crept closer, forcing her to step back as he purred, “Because I haven’t purchased my copy yet.”
Her breath caught. Damn him.
“You can’t be serious.”
But he was already pulling a wad of cash from his wallet. “Deadly.”
“Gar.” She tried not to notice how whiny his name sounded on her lips. “What could you possibly want with that?”
If he heard the pleading in her voice, he ignored it. Beaming, he held up the object of her horror.
“Oh, I’m gettin’ this puppy framed! Although… it might look nice on a tapestry.” He tapped one finger to his lips, shooting her a sideways glance. “Whatcha think?”
“I think you’re obnoxious.”
“Call me whatever you want,” he smirked, dangling the magazine between them. “Still the girl kissin’ me on the cover.”
He left no opening for a retort, already dragging her behind him.
“Good sir!" Gar hailed the attendant, striding over with exaggerated bravado. His voice had dropped to a late-night-talk-show cadence. “Apologies for my friend back there. Allow me to pay for his copy…and one for myself.”
Slapping his bills down on the counter, Gar tugged his girlfriend to his side.
While the cashier rang him up Raven grumbled, “Great. Now we own two.”
The man passed Gar his receipt. “You know, man, I appreciate you.” he stuck out his hand, which Gar shook firmly.
“Business has been slow, but with this?” he gestured excitedly to the tabloid. “I mean, I’ve been selling copies all morning!”
“Oh Azar—” Raven flumped onto the counter, hiding her face in her folded arms like an ostrich in the sand.
Garfield smiled, too wide and bright. “What can I say? We live to serve the community!”
He could almost hear the muffled comment she mumbled into the bar.
“Y’know,” he said, “you complain a lot for the person who started all this.”
Her head shot up. “You started this, I only—”
“Finished it?” he smirked.
She glared hard at him, even though he was right. A tiny voice in her head reminded her she wouldn’t be dealing with this if she’d just gone along to the party with him in the first place.
She told that voice to shut up.
Leaning back against the counter, she feigned nonchalance.
“…I was a victim of temporary insanity.”
“That what we’re calling it now?” he scoffed.
“It… strikes at inopportune times.”
Gar grinned, eyebrow ticking up. “Ahh, so it’s chronic?”
“Arbitrary.” she bit.
Green eyes narrowed knowingly. “Seemed like a scheduled event to me. Candlelight and all.”
“Delusions are a symptom. You should get checked.”
He shrugged, much too close now. “Just trying to figure out when you came to.”
“Why? Planning your next ambush?”
“No reason.” He had her cornered against the bar, and if she leaned in too… well, that was no one’s business.
“Just wondering… was it before or after you dragged me back to your room and—”
“Beast Boy! Raven!”
Somehow, a gaggle of teenage girls had appeared at God knows what point during the conversation.
In a split second, the heroes snapped upright, slipping into role-models-for-the-youth mode.
“H-hEY kids!” Beast Boy squawked, flashing a sheepish smile.
A blonde girl at the front gaped in excitement. “I cannot believe we found you guys here. I mean what are the odds!”
Raven colored as the girls broke into delighted giggles.
“Um,” the girl, who was definitely the ringleader, continued, “could you guys, like… sign our magazines?”
The sorceress went pale. “I… I don’t—”
“Course we will!” Gar cut in brightly.
Raven shot him a lethal look as the girls squealed.
From the side of his mouth, she whispered, “Gar, I am not signing that.”
Still smiling, he hissed back through his teeth, “You’re gonna sign it.”
“No, I’m—”
“Raven. Your young, impressionable fans want an autograph. You gonna break their hearts?”
“My young, impressionable fans should not own this magazine…”
Unbothered, Gar elbowed her lightly. “Do any of you ladies have an extra pen?”
A brunette in the back dug through her purse before triumphantly producing a glitter gel pen. Raven accepted it like one might accept a bomb.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this…”
She scribbled on four copies. It wasn’t… completely horrible. Then, she passed Gar the pen, careful not to meet his eye.
Unlike Raven, he savored every stroke, scrawling each signature across the small of her back on every cover.
She lowered at him. He shot her a mischievous wink in return.
After they finished, the group echoed their thanks. One courageous girl asked for a photo.
Before Raven could vehemently decline, Gar stepped forward.
“Sure! I’ll take as many as you ladies want!” He shook his head at her slightly, a quiet I got it.
She tried not to think it was sweet—how he knew exactly where her limits were. Instead, she watched him, saunter off, striking Charlie’s Angels poses with a group of fourteen-year-olds.
Dork.
A sudden tug at her cloak pulled her gaze.
A little girl clutched the hem, eyes wide with curiosity.
“Pssst!” she whispered.
Raven crouched down, humming in question.
The child leaned close, cupping her hand to Raven's ear.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
Raven glanced at him—this grinning goofball, proudly posing while holding a photo of her like a trophy.
She smiled. Leaning in, murmured back.
“Yeah.”
When they pulled back, the girl hid her smile in her hands. Raven tucked her own down to her collar, warmth rooting quietly in her chest.
“Thank you guys so much!” A teenager jogged up to them, grabbing her younger sister’s arm. “C’mon, Katie, say bye.”
Raven stood and waved as they left. Just then, Gar appeared at her side.
“Okay, let’s get out of here before the paps show up.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “What’d she say?”
Raven shrugged. “Nothing important.” But as the words left her mouth, her hand found his.
Gar stalled a moment, and for the first time that day, he blushed.
“Uh,” he stammered, grinning so hard it hurt. “Think Cy parked this way.”
She held his hand all the way to the car, then again under the table in the diner Cyborg dragged them to afterward. Later, in the hallway during the canceled training hour, she reached for it once more. It felt… right.
Stepping through her doorway, Raven yawned, quietly grateful to be through the day’s humiliation ritual.
They took less than three steps before she was hit with the encore.
It pooled in the middle of the floor: a heap of green silk piled from the night before. Oh right. She’d forgotten to grab it after they—
Yeah, it was definitely taunting her.
Gar blinked dreamily, then bent to pick it up.
“Hehe… missed this,” he chuckled.
Raven rolled her eyes, though the corner of her lips twitched.
He held the dress for a moment, fingers brushing over the soft fabric, then pushed it gently into her hands.
“Put it back on for me.”
Her heart jumped. Flustered, violet eyes went wide.
“Garfield!”
His voice dropped into that low, gently earnest tone that usually got him what he wanted.
“I wanna see it on you.”
Her eyes darted away. “You just saw it on me yesterday.”
He closed the distance, taking her hands to pull her focus back. His lilting voice coaxed her, teasing. “Yeah, but I didn’t get enough time with it.”
She caught the implication, cheeks warming. Not quite caving—but folding a little.
“C’mon…” he murmured, sweet, “Please?”
…Why couldn’t she ever say no to that face?
Raven drew a deep breath through her nose and began unfastening her cloak.
He practically glowed.
“Turn around.”
Gar frowned, mock-serious. “Wait, actually?”
Raven crossed her arms. “Do you want me to put it on or not?”
He huffed dramatically, but humored her, buzzing with excitement.
She moved quickly, shedding her uniform and slipping into the dress that had already caused more trouble than it was worth. She felt reckless like this—defying her own rules. He’d chipped away at her walls, brick by brick, and now she followed him over the edge willingly.
Once dressed, Raven spoke shyly.
“Ok… you can… uh—”
Nervously, he turned to face her, breath catching.
“…Wow.”
She hugged her arms, unsure of what to do with them. Oddly, she'd felt less exposed in public last night than she did here, alone with him.
He studied her again, a small, grateful smile tugging his lips, as if she’d given him a gift. Silently, his hand grazed down her side, stirring a warm ache in her stomach. They watched, silent, as colors blended together.
He stilled in awe. “How did you even… do that.”
She held his gaze, breathing softly.
“I know some tricks,” her voice was impossibly soft.
“Yeah?” he smiled, forehead lowering to hers. “Figured it was something like that.”
The quiet stretched—no games, no quips. Her arms curled around his neck, as his hands roamed gently, eyes tracing every subtle movement. Transfixed, his expression melted into something more serious.
“It meant a lot to me.” He looked at her face. “This.”
Raven shrugged. “It’s just a trick.” she said, like it wasn’t a big deal, even though it was.
“That’s not what I meant.” He exhaled softly.
She looked at him hard for a long, steady moment, then answered sincerely.
“You deserve it.”
His entire expression softened as his breath escaped. Slowly, he pulled one arm from around his neck and pressed a searing kiss to the back of her hand. He never thought he could have this. Could have her.
Raven smiled imperceptibly; he mirrored it. When he released her hand and she trailed her fingers up his arm.
His smile tilted sideways.
“I kinda want to leave it on this time.”
Both eyebrows rose.
“Seriously?”
