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“I need flowers with prominent reproductive structures.”

The man went completely still.

Ryland could feel his soul attempting to leave his body.

“For a plant anatomy lab,” he added quickly. “For my students. Middle school students. Not–” He cut himself off, because there was simply no end to that sentence that would improve his situation. Instead, he just weakly smiled, and added “Science.”

-

Simon gave a short nod. “Don't let them destroy the ovaries.”

Ryland stared at him.

Then, despite himself, he laughed, something full-bellied and helpless.

Simon looked back down at the counter, but not before Ryland caught the smallest, sharpest edge of a real smile.

-

“A kid named his flower Gerald before dissecting it, which made the process emotionally complicated.”

Simon stared at him.

Ryland nodded solemnly. “There was a funeral.”

“A funeral.”

“Very brief. But they had a little extra time at the end of class, and who am I to stop them?”

-

Ryland stared at Armando.

“That’s it?”

“For now.”

“He doesn’t need, like, plant food? A ritual? Words of affirmation?”

Simon gave him that flat look, but it looked almost amused. “Do you give your plants words of affirmation?”

“No.”

Simon waited, dark brow raising.

Ryland looked down in embarrassment. “Well… not exactly.”

A laugh escaped Simon before he could seem to stop it.

-

“He was doing exactly what he was supposed to do,” Ryland said, his voice gentle but steady. “He kept growing. The problem was that his space didn’t change with him.”

Jesse’s pencil stilled.

Alina looked back at Armando.

Mateo, for once, did not make a joke.

Ryland took a slow breath.

“So,” he continued, because he had to keep moving before the emotion became too visible on his face, “the solution is not to blame the plant. The solution is to understand what it needs now, not what it needed before.”

He turned back to the board and wrote:

Needs can change.

Then, under it:

Changing needs does not mean failure.

- Rootbound by tak_cajaz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86496396/chapters/228858501

He had already shown them his face, what more did they want? When he noticed the others begin to close in, their faces ranging from wide-eyed curiosity (Captain Marvel) to apoplectic shock (Oliver), Bruce decided to leave.

He did what any rational, level-headed, completely sane individual in his position would do. He detonated one of the smoke bombs he had left at the far end of the battlefield.

-

“I’ve walked in on Batman having a threesome, Dinah! This goes beyond understanding!”

Bruce shrugged, unbothered. “You should have knocked.”

Behind him, he could hear Hal and Barry positively losing their minds, mostly at Ollie’s expense. At some point, they had discovered that Oliver, who was rapidly approaching some sort of existential crisis, was somehow far more embarrassed by the situation than Bruce would ever be.

-

“You really do have a lot of kids, it’s weird as hell,” Hal said. He made space for Captain Marvel as he awkwardly slipped in to listen to the conversation. “Like, where did you even get them all from? Did you steal them off the streets or something?”

“No,” Bruce said. He thought of Jason and amended, “Mostly no.”

“What does that even mean?”

- Over and Done With It by Pneumatic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62211931

“If you just opened this comm message like I told you,” Cody said into the camera, “Tie yourself down to whatever bunk or vod you're sitting on, because this comm is gonna be a rough karking ride.”

-

"But Kote!!! you say in your whiny little ik’aad voice. I've been fighting for our 3rd Systems Army and all of my brothers! Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Ikaad?" Trapper asked.

“Baby. He’s calling us babies.”

“NAYC, you dikut’la ik’aade!” Cody’s yell briefly blacked out the audio, too loud for the comm to keep up. “It karking doesn’t! You wanna know karking why?”

"Please, no," someone whispered.

“It doesn’t count,” Cody took a painfully deep breath, “because you've been kriffing up ASSIGNED DUTIES on the Negotiator TOO!”

-

“I will karking cunt punt the next brother I hear on this ship doing something like that. And I don't give a fuck if you report me to General Kenobi,” Wooley’s eyebrows went up as Cody leaned forward, addressing the camera. “I will karking assault you.”

“Is this going to everyone?” Longshot asked Crys, who nodded. “Even the Jedi?”

“Just every single vod on the Negotiator, yeah.”

-

“So if -- when -- you report this, remember that General Windu stopped taking complaints about the 7th Sky three months ago,” Cody said gleefully, smiling again. “And that, as of three minutes ago when this message was recorded, General Kenobi was in the fetal position having yet another mental breakdown inside his mountain of datapads. Because you can’t karking think. So now we have supply chain issues! Because of you. Who’s reporting that to the High Council? Me.”

- Priority Alert by TheResurrectionist

https://archiveofourown.org/works/87386986

“Are you fucking kidding me? This little shit,” he pointed at Rogers, “has been mythologized as some kind of sainted asshole?”

“Pretty much,” Clint shrugged.

“Oh my god,” Bucky said, eyes wide, “how. How did they even… how.” Steve laughed as his friend.

“Well what was he like then?” Tony interrupted. Barnes grinned.

“He was an argumentative trouble making little shit. Honestly, he hasn’t changed much.”

“Thats true,” Natasha muttered, and Steve nudged her with his elbow, grinning at her.

-

“Sergeant Barnes, Captain Rogers, what do you have to say to persistent rumours that have followed your stories since WWII that you were involved in an illicit homosexual relationship?” Both Barnes and Rogers froze, and Khalida slapped her hand over her face. This was going to be bad. Peeking through her fingers, she watched the two men exchange looks before Barnes leaned forward to the mike, a smirk sliding across his face, the first real expression she’d ever seen from the soldier.

“Well sure,” he drawled, “I’ve been tapping this ass every chance I’ve had since 1935.” A bright red blush shot up Rogers face and Barnes reached over and grabbed Rogers, pulling him into a messy kiss while the room exploded into shouts and chaos. Khalida closed her eyes again.

Fuck, she thought dejectedly, he’s worse than Rogers.

- Bucky Barnes is a Goddamn Menace by eden22

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781803

“You are concerned that he will react poorly to your padawan-siblings?”

“And his,” Qui says. “Xanatos has made this last year traumatic.”

“Yes, I am aware.”

“And yet you invited him?”

“I hope to brand him with iron in hopes of the exorcism taking root this year.”

Qui-Gon fights the laugh. He shakes his head.

-

“Or he’s just stuck up,” Feemor diagnoses. “Chronic head-up-his-ass syndrome.”

“Fee.”

“He wants padawans with pedigrees. He’s elitist like that.”

“What’s a pedigree?” Obi-Wan asks as Feemor cracks open a can of beer and offers some to Qui. Qui-Gon declines with a wave of his hand. Fee takes his glass anyways. That’s who he is. He cannot finish a meal or beverage on his own in the presence of company; his brain won’t let him.

“A pedigree is like a lineage,” Qui explains. “It tends to be used for animals and royalty. It’s a way of tracking parentage.”

Obi-Wan tucks his foot under the opposite thigh and swings the dangling, de-socked foot.

“Do you have a pedigree?” he asks.

Feemor coughs on the beer’s carbonation and tips his head back to wave at his nose, willing the burn to pass. Qui-Gon gestures for Obi-Wan to give him a sip from his cup of juice to help.

Fee blesses Obi-Wan to high heavens.

“No one here has pedigrees,” Fee says. “We’re not like Xanatos.”

“Or Komari,” Qui sighs. “Or Rael.”

- poisoned chalice by qigiined

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37046956/chapters/92466304#workskin

“Wait a fucking minute, you’re the bloody Ghost King?” A new voice joined, Constantine of all people looking beyond his usual disgruntled assholery to pure shock.

“You hurt him,” Bruce growled, apparently choosing to ignore Constantine’s presence and the tom-fuckery of secret identities that was going to be.

“It only hurt because I cleansed the ectoplasm in him! Not because he became a portal! I mean, yeah okay it might have hurt but look at him!” His angel threw a handout, “I’m sure he was all rage and anger before. How are ya feeling, buddy?”

Jason opened his mouth to answer something along the lines of ‘fine’ or maybe ‘this is the calmest I think I’ve ever let in my life’.

Instead, he says:

“You can come in me anytime.”

Everyone in the room froze.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Constantine mumbled under his breath.

- love is an open door (you are the door) by violetmoreviolent

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43207501

With that, he threw up his hands and huffed out, “Fine! Yes, I had sex with Brucie. Boarding school was boring and we were horny teenagers and I immediately regretted it. Now please tell me why that’s your second fucking option for multiverse travel checks.”

It was a testament to his Bat Training that Nightwing didn't immediately drop his jaw. Or raise his eyebrows. Or burst into laughter like Hal. Or do a million other things he wanted to do in that instant.

-

He nodded as if this were expected. “I’m in an alternate dimension,” he declared solemnly. At everyone’s, sans Batman’s, continued confusion, he elaborated. “My universe is one of the few where Brucie Wayne hasn’t slept with Oliver. It’s common enough to be a quick and dirty benchmark for multiverse travel.” He shot a lascivious smile at Oliver. “If you’ll excuse the expression.”

Oliver choked. Bruce glared at him, but he chose to ignore it.

“This cannot be official protocol,” said Diana, a slight quirk to her lips. She was one of the quickest to catch on, but always one of the first to laugh.

“Oh please, please let this be official protocol,” Hal begged “it would make my day.”

-

Finally, finally, that was what broke Batman and he leaned over the desk to put his head in his hands, letting out, to what most people would seem like a normal exasperated sigh, but what he knew was a Dick-specific “I should have left you at the circus” sigh. Ah, music to his ears. He should have known it was a pun that would do it.

- Holy Early Days, Batman! by Amateum

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54075280

Austen stared at the paper a second longer, reading and rereading the report again. “Unbelievable- I thought his stupid ass got killed and the whole time he’s been livin’ it rich. 'Adopted by Bruce Wayne,'” he read.

“Ho-ly shit. For real? He got napped by richie-rich?” His cousin, ever helpful, asked.

-

“Laugh all you want. I successfully hit Batman with a tire iron and cursed him out. He picked me up like a cat, which was humbling, but I got away. Didn’t I?”

“He scruffed you?” Austen was grinning like the cat who caught the canary. “Like grabbed you by your shirt and dangled you around? Seriously?”

Jason glared at him. “He didn’t ‘dangle me around’ he just… lifted me off the ground for a second. I told him to go ahead and beat a kid like the cops do and hit him with a tire iron.” Austen was laughing himself into breathlessness, undignified squeaks and wheezes laced into his laughter.

-

The idea of saying 'No, Jane is actually a boy' seemed mortifying. Not only because Bruce’s support made him feel embarrassed to not have a girlfriend, but because Bruce’s support would probably continue even with the reveal that Jane is actually a boy. And that was too awkward of a conversation for Jason to manage in the half-awake state he’d started the conversation in.

-

“We’re almost 15 and neither of us have had an actual girlfriend!” Jason threw his hands up emphatically.

“Oh God bless America, making teenagers think they need to get dicked before they graduate.” Austen stalled, thinking over his phrasing as he got up off the couch. Getting dicked implies that he’s the one- Jesus.

“Or… dick, rather.. ‘Dick and get dicked,’ ‘live and let live,’ fucking whatever- Live, laugh, love and fuck organized government!”

“Fuck organized government,” Jason echoed.

“Mm.” Austen was quietly rinsing his dish out in the kitchen until Jason spoke up again.

- “He can call me a flower if he wants to!” by authorcourtinginsanity

https://archiveofourown.org/works/78685586/chapters/206332946

It’s the mental illness, innit, love? Sabé once asked.

Stop talking like you’re from Coruscant, Padmé had retorted. And I’m not mentally ill. I’m normal.

Would a normal person marry Anakin Skywalker? Ha. The answer is obvious, case in point, Padmé Amidala, current Senator and former Queen of Naboo, is weird.

Anakin kneels by Sabé’s bed, breaking her out of her imaginary Padmé Roasting Session, and takes her hands.

“Uh, what?” Sabé asks blankly.

“I need your help,” Anakin says. “I’m stuck in a time loop, the universe is going to end in three days, and the only time I even came close to stopping it was when you were by our side.”

Sabé stares at Anakin. Waits for the penny to drop. A punchline, a laugh, a more logical explanation.

-

Anakin pulls out three hypstims and stabs Padmé, Cody, and Rex with one each. They awaken with a collective gasp.

“Anakin!” Sabé says, exasperated.

“No time for naps,” Anakin says. “We have a Sith Lord to kill.”

“Wait, what?” Rex asks.

“Where am I?” Cody asks.

“Anakin, what are you planning?” Obi-Wan asks, disapproval evident in his voice.

Padmé ignores all three and grabs Anakin by his tunic, dragging him close. They kiss, and Obi-Wan averts his eyes. Sabé makes direct eye contact with Rex, and they make similar faces of disgust.

“Why is Skywalker making out with the Senator?” Cody asks. “I thought we were all pretending that we didn’t know.”

“Universe is ending,” Sabé informs him. “That one—” she nods at Anakin “—is stuck in an endless time loop. We’re going to go kill the Chancellor to keep it from happening again.

Everyone stares at her with incredulity in their eyes.

-

Anakin breaks apart from Padmé. He’s crying, Sabé realizes with horror. Padmé reaches out and caresses his cheek.

“You died,” Anakin says. “You died so many times, Padmé, and I couldn’t save you, and it was all my fault—”

“Oh, Ani,” Padmé says, embracing him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about! But I’m here.”

“I’m so uncomfortable!” Rex says cheerfully.

“Could we do this later?” Sabé asks. “Please? I am not explaining this to these three by myself.”

-

“You know, I used to feel bad about never having someone who would want to marry me, but then you and Anakin got married, and that cheered me right up.”

“Because you love us so much?” Padmé asks with narrowed eyes, giving Sabé a clear out.

“Because then I’d have to experience this kind of fuckery on your end of it, instead of as an innocent bystander.”

“Will you help us?” Anakin demands, making far too intense eye contact with her.

“How am I supposed to help stop a Sith Lord?” Sabé demands.

“You’re like a good luck charm,” Anakin says. “Every time you’re with us, we get closer and closer. I’m sure one of these days we’ll actually finish.”

“That better not be a sex joke,” Sabé says.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Anakin snaps. “I’m stuck in a time loop, not an endless orgy.”

“I wish I were stuck in an endless orgy instead of this,” Rex mutters into his caf.

“What?” Padmé asks.

“What?” Rex asks innocently.

-

“You can’t go,” Sabé says. “You’re pregnant! What if you get killed?”

“I can still shoot people,” Padmé says.

“Your lack of self-preservation is astounding,” Cody says. “Ma’am.”

“I finally understand what you and Skywalker see in each other,” Rex says dryly.

- Revenge of the Sith: Electric Boogaloo by hoebiwan

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43848703

Anakin had dressed Luke in a thick pair of wool pants and a shirt made of a material that was so soft and warm he almost cried when he first held it. On top of that, Anakin swaddled Luke in a fluffy wool onesie, cream-colored and hooded. His pudgy face framed by the hood, as it were, squished against his chest, made Anakin smile.

"Oh? Who this, might be?" Asked the little green troll still on call. Snapping his eyes up to the Jedi Master, ready to tell him off, Anakin found Yoda looking mildly put out, as though this was not what he expected, and oh, that was so abso-fucking-lutely spectacular.

Leaning back into the chair once more, careful not to wake Luke again, grinning from ear to ear in that way Obi-Wan swore gave him hives, Anakin stared right into Yoda's eyes as he spoke. "Oh? Him? He's my son." He let that sink in, relishing in Yoda's abundant shock before continuing, "whom I bore from my own body." Anakin was lying right out of his ass, but no one beside him and Artoo knew the truth, and neither of them was about to give up the joy of fucking with Yoda. "See you at the temple, Master Yoda."

-

Practically presenting Luke as he held one of his arms to steady the baby.

"Say Hello to your Great-Great-Great Grandmaster, Luke," straightening up, grinning from ear to ear, Anakin turned to Yoda, "you will be as big as he soon."

- sweet tenor of eden grace by coirionin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53591527/chapters/135657427#workskin

“What?”

“You have a son ?” Clark splutters.

“What do you mean my costume’s ugly? It’s very God-like!”

“Why didn’t you tell me— tell us? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“And I’m not a kid! I’m a full-grown adult with an adult job and adult friends and, and make adult decisions—”

“Oh my god,” says Flash. “Spooky, you’re a dad?"

“This explains so much,” Green Lantern mutters mutinously, likely remembering the occasion he claimed he saw Batman eat three tubes of Go-Gurts at the same time and the team didn’t believe him.

-

“My babies,” the masked crusader says. “My sugar gumdrops. My only hope left in the world. My princesses and princes. My sugar cookies.”

“Okay,” says Clark.

“My cutie pies.”

“Oh my god,” says Flash.

“You got a funny helmet, mister,” one of the black-haired, blue-eyed boys quips. “Like a fugly bird.”

It’s true, Clark thinks. The little bolts on the sides of Flash’s cowl is a bit silly.

“That’s not nice, Jason,” Batman admonishes.

“Sorry, mister with the weird helmet,” Jason says, not looking remotely sorry.

“Where did they come from?” Green Lantern frowns, cataloging the seven children. “And why do you have so many?”

Batman hums, gazing pensively at his coworker, “When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much—”

“That is not what I meant.”

“He kidnapped me off the streets,” says Jason.

-

“I do not have a problem and I do not snatch all of them from the street. Cassandra broke into my house.”

“Oh my god.”

-

“I would kill for you and your children,” Aquaman proclaims.

“Please don’t,” Batman says.

“I would die for you, Batman,” Arrow declares.

“I’m good,” he says.

- speaking through shadows plain by scallionpancakes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46545454

“Lots of people don't know who I am. What sort of name is Jango? Did you want to end up in the bad place?” Fox asks him.

For all that Fox is a monster, at least he's never considered naming himself after Prime. Honestly. Ugh.

“You're not dead,” Gilamar insists. “No one here is dead. There's no bad place.”

—Fox's Great, Very Cool, Totally Fun Dead Adventure

by Anonymous

https://archiveofourown.org/works/68309131

—Fox's Great, Very Cool, Totally Fun Dead Adventure by Anonymous

Thomas had rules about fraternizing with staff. Thomas did not break rules. Particularly not rules about ethics. He had the kind of ironclad and unbreakable sense of right and wrong that consistently and without fail inconvenienced and annoyed the shit out of everyone around him.

Which is why Martha had fired Alfred.

Martha was very good at finding workarounds for her husband’s sense of ethics.

“Alfred,” Thomas said, his voice adopting the particular baritone of Professionalism, as if he were not still in mid-cuddle with the man. “I hear tell my wife fired you last night.”

-

“It may even be hysteria,” Thomas added, and he had to wrap his arms around both Alfred and Martha to keep his wife from sitting up and hitting him. Thomas could feel the subtle shaking of Alfred trying not to laugh as Martha tried to get her arms free. He was trusting Alfred enormously not to let her go, since Martha had a mean right hook and a manicure that could kill. “I’m a doctor,” he added, in case anyone had forgotten. “This is my professional doctor-man opinion.”

-

“That’s cheating,” Bruce said, not for the first time. “We have to get it right or else it doesn’t count.”

Bruce also had a particular sense of right and wrong, and it made his love of collecting things much more difficult than it had any right to be when his parents were billionaires.

“How,” Martha asked, “is crawling in the window a more efficient route than just taking the hall?”

Bruce huffed impatiently, lowered the brochure. “Because I went to Alfred’s room first, which is the other reason I’m here, because Alfred is missing and we need to find him because I’m not leaving without Alfred.” He stomped his foot to emphasize this point.

Thomas pressed his lips together into a thin line of not-grinning.

-

“You hear that?” Thomas said when Bruce had left, lifting the comforter. “You’ve gone missing.”

“How distressing,” Alfred said, wiggling back out from underneath it. “Do you think you’ll be able to find me in time?”

“Bruce won’t rest until we have,” Martha said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“No Alfred left behind,” Thomas agreed, kissing the other.

- Good Morning by Unpretty

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46038016

“This is a war,” Nield says. “In war, soldiers sometimes die.”

Jaster wants to shout or grab these children by the shoulders and shake them. Yes, soldiers die in war, but children shouldn’t be soldiers. He presses his fingers to his forehead and takes a deep breath. “Will you agree to let us take point and draw the enemy fire?”

“Duh,” Nield says. “You’re blaster proof and we aren’t.”

Myles’s shoulders are shaking as he keeps himself from laughing out loud.

-

“You’re here on Mandalore,” Walon tells him. “You are Obi-Wan Vau, and you are safe here with me.”

“Be’Walon’ad,” Obi-Wan murmurs. He is Walon’s child. He isn’t a slave. He isn’t Xanatos’s victim. He isn’t an initiate or a padawan or a general.

-

When Jaster and Master Windu enter the mess hall for first meal, Obi-Wan can’t quite keep the horrified noise from squeaking out of his throat.

“Give me your helmet,” Obi-Wan tells Jango. “I need to stop knowing this.”

“You aren’t allowed to wear beskar helmets,” Jango says, and his Force signature has spiked, embarrassment and hope and something that is too similar to want and pleasure for Obi-Wan to deal with right now.

“Your buir and Master Windu had sex last night,” Obi-Wan hisses, because if he has to suffer than everyone else does too.

“What?” Jango whips his head around so quickly, Obi-Wan’s amazed he didn’t snap his neck.

-

“Would it really be so bad if Jango and Obi-Wan were interested in each other? I’d think you’d be proud. Jango’s following your example after all.”

“You.” Jaster would point a finger at Walon, but he has a cup of shig in each hand. “Are the worst.”

Walon presses a button and the door to his room slides open. Jaster takes the hint and leaves, with less dignity than he entered with.

- Strangers Like Me by K_R_Closson

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38620959/chapters/96547128

ennieasys

LMFAO THIS IS THE ACTUAL WEBSITE

#ao3 #archive of our own #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3feed #fandom #fanfiction #fanwork #ao3 writer #ao3 memes #ao3 wrapped #ao3 author

He hadn’t been threatened yet, only thrown into a basement and tied up with zip-ties. That was pretty typical for a kidnapping, though the company wasn’t.

Because he wasn’t alone in this basement.

Jason stared at the kid. All four feet of him.

He was smiling like this was the best day of his life and his baby fat was plump on his cheeks. When he caught Jason’s eyes, he smiled even wider and Jason noticed that he had at least two teeth missing.

God, this really was just a kid.

A kid that should look much less overjoyed to be trapped in some human trafficker’s basement.

“Hi!” he chirped like they were on a playground. “I’m Tim!”

-

“Please, Mr. Jason, sir,” The kid was blubbering, big fat tears rolling out of huge eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t even really want to be a super villain, but I didn’t know how to get Batman’s attention except by stealing Robin, and I need to show him my powerpoint!”

Shock rippled through Jason’s body and he found some of his anger melting away to be replaced by pure confusion.

“Your… powerpoint?”

-

The kid hesitated for a second, before he was zipping away and pulling out a… projector?

Well shit, that was a whole ass projector.

He started it up and it flickered to life, illuminating a huge green box that had the words ‘WHY BATMAN SHOULD ADOPT ME by Tim Drake’ written inside it.

- Pint-sized and with a Powerpoint by SalParadiseLost

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35020432

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