you stood in front of your mirror looking over the outfit you had picked out for your date with rafe. plain navy blue baby tee, white air forces, and a dainty white lacy mini skirt.
mini would be an understatement to how short the garment actually is. the frilly hem of the skirt sat just high enough on your thighs that if you crouched over - well let's just say you'd receive a plentiful amount of gawks and hushed comments over it.
regardless, all that matters is that you felt cute in it and the fact that it shows off your legs - one of rafe's countless weaknesses when it comes to you. which luckily, was precisely the plan.
rafe never shies away from praising you, whether it's letting you know how pretty your hair looks one day, or complimenting your radiant smile, or how sexy you look in the clothes he bought for you - least of all your body. every curve. every inch. he loves it all.
just as you made the final adjustments to your clothing you heard your boyfriend's voice call out from downstairs. "hey, kid, m'here. you ready to go?"
"hey baby, yeah i'm ready. be right down!"
spinning on your heel you headed to your bedroom door, grabbing your phone off the vanity and one of your shoulder bags off the handle before heading downstairs to greet rafe.
"hiii," you chimed chipperly as you met rafe's gaze, his head instantly raising from whatever had him distracted on his phone, meeting your eyes with a soft smile as he shoved his phone in his pocket.
"hi, kiddo," his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, yours around his neck, giving you a whiff of the musky cologne you had gifted him a while ago. your heart warmed as you smiled to yourself, realizing that it's the only one he's worn since.
"you ready to go?" you asked him, pulling back, eager to finally get out of the house and spend a relaxing day with your boyfriend - hopefully somewhere where you can have a nice cold not-so-virgin drink in your hand.
the perky smile you had on quickly faded once you noticed rafe staring at you - at your outfit, a blank expression plastered on his face. "what? 's'there something wrong with my outfit - ugh, is there a stain somewhere?" your manicured fingers brushed over your skirt as you twisted sideways in an attempt to search the back for stains, causing the hem to raise slightly - but just enough to give rafe a perfect view of the pretty lace panties you had on.
all of a sudden you were being backed into a wall, rafe's hands held firmly on your waist. you gripped his sculpted shoulders to keep yourself from falling backwards flat on your ass.
"change of plans kiddo, we're staying home today."
"rafe what-"
"think you can put on that tube top of a skirt and not expect a reaction from me, hmm kid?" a hand slithered down from your waist to grab a handful of your ass, scrunching the white lace fabric in the process, "half your ass out for the world to see huh?"
just as planned.
"rafe, i have no idea what you're talking about."
lie.
you absolutely knew that your rather skimpy outfit would warrant a reaction from your boyfriend. and even though you had hopes of actually going out today, the idea of having rafe's hand between your legs was far better than having an ice-cold drink in yours.
"'s'that right? cause'm pretty sure this is exactly what you wanted, isn't it?" his hand snaked lower from your ass, making sure to run his fingertips leisurely over your soft skin, further and further down until they were tracing over the textured fabric of your lace underwear.
your pretty tinted lips parted slightly releasing a shaky, breathy exhale as you felt rafe's fingers press down on your clad clit. your panties were practically soaked now, a desperate plea for him to grace you with the sweet release you needed so bad.
"rafe-"
"if you wanted me so bad you coulda just said so, kid. but don't worry, kiddo...gonna fuck a confession outta you. n' the skirt stays on."
"give me a fandom and a prompt and i'll give you at least five sentences"
Ok then.
Jazz, Danny and Bruce are in the same age range, and Bruce has been harboring a massive crush on 7'foot tall Jazz since just after he began his training journey.
His kids know about and are mercyless. Danny thinks he's a bit of a fruit loop and 100% knows Bruce has a crush on his sister.
Into the future his coworkers find out that batman has been quietly pining after the Ghost Kings sister for years.
Chaos.
love that this reads as a challenge. Ok then. Write it. i will, let's goooo!
(sorry i kinda took it so that Jazz, Danny, and Bruce were all old friends but in that horrible adult way where you can only hang out with each other once in a blue moon when your work schedules miraculously align)
——
"Respectfully, Batman, you can take your "it's not necessary" and you can shove it up your arse. There's a demon the size of a skyscraper heading towards Metropolis and we need reinforcements."
"Superman can—"
"Superman can't. You do remember the part of the report I made telling you this, right? Or did your stubborn little bat brain just shut down when I mentioned magic?"
"Actually," Nightwing interrupts from the side, a shit-eating grin on his face, "I think his brain shut down when you mentioned the Ghost King."
"Nightwing." Batman growls in warning, his jaw clenching so hard Constantine can swear he hears the bones creaking.
Nightwing just snickers, and turns away to press a finger to his ear, no doubt letting the rest of the bat brood in on what's happening here... Whatever that is. All Constantine knows is that Batman is standing between him and fixing this mess for no God-forsaken reason.
Luckily, some of the more reasonable members of the League step in to try and talk some sense into Batman. It gives him some time to calm down.
"Batman. We need him. I know you dislike working with unknowns, but he's our best shot."
It actually looks like Wonder Woman might be getting through to him, Batman even opens his mouth to actually explain some things—a huge step forward for this incredibly emotionally constipated man.
Instead, Nightwing snorts and beats him to it. "Unknowns? More like—"
"Nightwing, please."
"Oh, for Pete's sake, get your head out of your arse and let me do this. The Ghost King is our only hope. I'm summoning him, no matter what you say."
For a long second, Constantine thinks that he'll refuse and he might have to resort to more violent methods of persuasion—which, honestly, Constantine has fantasised about many times during the more boring JL meetings—but eventually, Batman relents and steps out of the way.
"Fine. Nightwing, go check in with Red Robin."
Nightwing has the kind of devious smile that makes John glad he doesn't have kids.
"Oh, don't worry about it, B. Red Robin's coming here. So's Red Hood, I don't need to go anywhere."
"Nightwing—"
"Sh, it's starting." So saying, Nightwing then very obviously ignores Batman's protests with a poker face that even Constantine envies. What he wouldn't give to be able to shut the bat out like that.
The summoning goes quickly, thankfully. The lights flicker, the temperature drops, and the chalk circle erupts in green flames. Standard summoning practices, sure. Even the impromptu appearance of Red Hood and Red Robin—"Did we miss him?", "No, not yet! I got 2:37, what about you guys?"—doesn't throw him off.
It does pique his interest, though. Just what the hell is going on with them? Constantine's weighing up the pros and cons of asking them once all of this is over when the ground splits open and the clawed hand of the Ghost King begins to pull himself out of the ground.
John's a seasoned summoner. It's practically his job, he's done it countless times.
The icey fear that grips his heart, that freezes his breath in his chest, is new.
Pure, unadulterated power floods the area and he feels small, so, so small, like a child playing with things he doesn't understand. When he finally tears his eyes away from the portal, he catches a glimpse of the other magic users in the room, the same horror he feels clear in their faces. Even Captain Marvel stares slackjawed.
The pressure rises, death magic screaming in his ears, almost forcing him to his knees, and suddenly he's not so sure this is a good idea.
Too late to back out now, though.
Sickly green light pours from the crack in the ground, growing brighter and brighter as the giant figure rises, until Constantine has to close his eyes and look away. The last thing he sees are eyes, teeth, horns, a crown so bright that it burns an afterimage into his retinas.
When the light dies down and he opens his eyes again, a humanoid man floats in the centre of the circle. The ground is whole, nothing is burning, the man doesn't even have a crown. Instead, other than the wispy white hair, slightly green skin, and the—you know—floating, the Ghost King appears pretty normal. Huh.
Constantine blinks, rubbing his bleary eyes, and checks around to make sure everyone's okay. Most of the League are doing the same as him, taking fortifying breaths and trying to appear as if they've not just been completely blinded.
Most of them, that is, aside from the Gotham vigilantes.
Batman himself stands upright, arms crossed, looking completely unbothered by the whole thing and John's got to admit, he wishes he could do that, too. That was... a hell of a show.
The others, however, are waving frantically with huge smiles on their faces.
What?
There's a brief, taut silence, as everyone else tries to catch their breath.
As much as he would rather take a bit of a breather, John should probably start making introductions. Unfortunately, he only gets as far as opening his mouth before the Ghost King beats him to it.
"Oh, Ancients, hey guys! It's been forever, how are you? Look at you all, so grown up, wow—Nightwing, buddy, do a flip!"
It doesn't take much to get Nightwing going, and he certainly doesn't leave it at one flip. The whole of the Justice League and Justice League Dark watch with open mouths as Nightwing performs for the Ghost King.
What, and John can't stress this enough, the fuck?
As soon as Nightwing rights himself, Red Hood swats him across the back of the head and calls him a show off.
The Ghost King just laughs as he claps. "There's my little monkey, look at you go! And I'm loving that leather jacket, Hood, is that new? Looks good on you, really your colour. Brings out the red in your helmet."
"Thanks, Uncle D. At least someone around here appreciates fashion."
"Are you kidding me, you know I breathe fashion, need I remind—"
"Need I remind you of the Discowing incident?"
"That was era-appropriate and you know it! Uncle D, tell him it was era-appropriate!"
"It was era-appropriate, but so are crocs and it doesn't make them fashionable." The Ghost King—and holy shit, is this actually the Ghost King? Or did Constantine just accidentally summon a deceased family member, what the fuck is happening here?—turns to look at Red Robin with a smile, resolutely ignorning the argument he created. "How you doing, Double R? You get that tablet Tucker made for you?"
"Yes, thank you! It's so cool, how did he—"
"How's Tucker doing?" Batman interrupts, his hands now hidden underneath his cape.
As soon as the question leaves his lips, everyone groans. Red Robin makes a show of lifting up his wrist and staring at it intently.
"Incredible," Red Hood mutters with a shake of his head.
Even the Ghost King seems put out, rolling his eyes and answering in a flat tone as if he knows Batman isn't interested in what he has to say.
Not for the first time, Constantine feels like he's missing something.
"Tucker's doing very well, thank you for asking."
What follows is the most awkward silence Constantine has ever had the pleasure to be a part of.
All three of the Gotham vigilantes, including the Ghost King, are staring at Batman, waiting for something. Batman's cloak shifts as if he's moving his hands, fidgeting. If Constantine didn't know any better, he'd say he was nervous.
"Good. That's good, I'm glad to hear it."
Instead of saying anything else, the Ghost King just raises his eyebrows and continues to stare at Batman. Has he offended him in some way? Are they all going to die because of this?
After what seems like an agonising few minutes but could only really be a few seconds, Batman's shoulders dip and he takes a breath. "And Jazz?"
They all erupt into shouts, the Ghost King being the loudest. The only thing John can make out is when the Ghost King throws his hand in the air to point at Red Robin with a shout of "Time!"
"1:30.91, we got 1:30.91 on the clock, who's closest?"
"Did you even try to hold it in at all, old man? I'm so disappointed in you. People think you're cool. People think you're suave, I don't understand how they could be so wrong."
"Thank you for that, Hood."
"No, thank you, I won. Again. Because you're so predictable. Actually, I had one minute seventeen, so you held out longer than I thought you would."
Batman pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs loudly.
Constantine feels like doing the same thing.
Whatever. He's going to have to interrupt... whatever this is. There's still a rampaging demon heading their way that they've got to bargain for. He can untangle Batman's personal connection to the Ghost King later. Or he could leave it alone and forget everything about it.
Yeah, he'll do that one.
But before he can actually open his mouth to say anything, the Ghost King, again, beats him to it.
"So, B-Man, did you summon me here for a particular reason, or was it really just so you could ask about Jazz?"
There's a beat of silence before Batman mutters, "I asked about Tucker, too. We've not seen each other in so long, it's only polite."
"And I'm sure you meant it, you're the paragon of manners." The Ghost King nods slow and wide-eyed as if he doesn't believe him at all.
At this point, even Constantine doesn't believe him.
"It has been forever, though." The Ghost King muses, bringing his hand to his chin and folding his legs underneath him. "We should all get together sometime! If you get Alfie to make some of his cookies again, I'll get Clockwork to lend us a pocket dimension where we can spend as much time as we want, deal?"
"It's a deal."
No hesitation at all, incredible.
Hold on. Wait. John has to fight the urge to pinch himself, because this has to be a dream, right? Is Batman actually smiling? He didn't even know he could do that.
An itch niggles at the back of John's mind. He's starting to get an inkling of what's going on here and it's... weird, to say the least.
"Oooh," Nightwing singsongs, like a child in a playground tickled by the very idea of romance.
But then, who's he to judge? John's no stranger to strange bedfellows, that's for sure. Whoever this Jazz is, she must be something incredible—she'd have to be, if Batman can't even go two minutes without asking about her.
"Batman and Jasmine sitting in a tree," Nightwing continues, with both Red Hood and Red Robin joining in for the rest. "K—I—S—S—I—"
"Stop," Batman growls, completely drowned out by the Ghost King's laughter, but...
But.
It all suddenly clicks for John.
The Ghost King Phantom.
Her Royal Highness, Princess Jasmine Phantom.
Jazz.
"Holy shit, mate," John breathes, unable to stop himself as everyone looks his way. "You have the hots for the Princess of the Infinite Realms?"
The Justice League meeting room has never descended into chaos quicker.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hetalia (Anime & Manga)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Characters: America (Hetalia), Russia (Hetalia)
Additional Tags: Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Aphrodisiacs, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Smut, Established Relationship, Breathplay, Aftercare, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, oh shit i didn’t realize that was a tag, that’s for ivan tho, (dw it’s not graphic just a bit of exposition for context), Nationverse (Hetalia), Multiple Orgasms, Drug Use, aphrodisiacs are a drug and weed is mentioned lol
Summary:
Alfred pays Ivan a visit after accidentally ingesting aphrodisiacs.
Minho is the type of boyfriend to pick a fight over anything, with anyone when it comes to you, even if it's something as small as someone mistakenly bumping into you as they're walking past.
He literally once threatened to drag Zart into the maze and feed him to the grievers himself, just cause he had cut in front you in the serving line during supper one night.
It's safe to say he is very overprotective over you, even though he knows you can handle yourself. You don't mind it though, you like seeing him stand up for you.
"Minho, calm down. It's not that serious."
"I don't care. No one cuts in front of my girl."
There's not a lot of fun things to do around the glade, so he tries his best to find ways of entertaining you.
Sometimes he'll sneak into your hut after dark, when everyone is asleep, and drag you out to the lake in the forest for a midnight swim.
Sometimes the two of you will simply stroll together and talk under the moonlight, or even play games like hide and seek, or tag, running through the trees and hiding behind the trees and bushes until you get tired.
One night he surprised you with a picnic by the lake. He'd snuck into the kitchen to steal snacks so you'd have something to eat (Fry would absolutely murder him if he ever found out). He had laid down a blanket that he'd brought from his room, the snacks sitting atop it.
You felt so special in that moment. He had done all this for you and he would do it again a thousand more times just to see that smile on your face when you first saw it.
"...Minho…oh my God. You did this all for me?"
"Yeah...d'you like it?..."
"It's perfect. You're...perfect."
He's constantly touching you, he just has this lingering need to always be close to you in any way, shape, or form. Minho was never figured as the PDA type but when the two of you started dating, he became hands-on all the time.
Whether its simply standing closely behind you, reaching for the fabric of your clothing, or holding your hand in his, he just has this need to always be around you.
That being said, he'll occasionally plant kisses and nip at your neck during conversations with someone else - just to let it be known that everyone knows you're his girl.
The moment Minho gets back from the maze, his first stop is always you. Not caring whether or not the rest of the gladers are watching, he never shy's away from peppering your face with kisses and wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"Shucking hell dude, do you have to do that in front of us?"
"No one's forcing you to watch, shanks."
When the two of you have days off, which are very rare in the glade, you take full advantage of them. Because of work, you're both very tired when a rest day comes, you'll usually just end up spending the entire day in bed together. Which he does not mind at all.
In fact, he loves it. More than most things.
When your head is laid against his chest as you take soft breaths, and your arm is laying lazily over his bare torso - due to you wearing his shirt instead, he's the most at peace than he likes to admit.
It doesn't matter even if the two of you are merely laying in silence whilst he draws shapes over the fabric covering your back, when he's there with you? He truly could stay there forever. I mean literally forever.
Speaking of you wearing his shirt - God, he can't get enough of it. He loves seeing you in his clothes. There's just something about it that makes his heart rate quicken, that makes his head feel all fuzzy, makes his cheeks warm, fills his chest with admiration.
The first time Minho discovered that seeing you in his clothes made him feel this way, was when you had first started dating. You were in his hut getting ready for bed, waiting for Minho to finish up in the communal showers, when you'd decided to just throw on one of his sleeping shirts, too lazy to go out and get your own pjs all the way from your hut.
When he pushed open the door after walking back from the showers, he found you sitting on the bed reading a book under the dim lighting of the hut - in his shirt. You looked up to find his eyes alternating between your face and the shirt that hung loosely off your body.
You quickly reacted, apologising before slipping your hands under the hem to lift the shirt over your head and take it off. But he stopped you, telling you to leave it on.
"Keep it on, you look good in it...almost good enough to eat."
"Well if that's the case, then be my guest."
The first time Minho told you he loved you was a moment you'll never forget. It replays constantly in your mind, each time filling your chest with a comforting warmth that never gets old.
It was one of your days off. The two of you were lying in Minho’s bed just like any other day off you’d spend together. Your head rested on his chest, following the movements of his soft breaths, his hand drawing circles over your back as the other one rested underneath his head.
You were telling him about some funny antic that Jeff had done at work in the medhut the other day, when he kinda just blurted it out, literally out of nowhere. It's safe to say you were definitely taken by surprise.
"So Jeff told Clint and I to close our eyes, and when we opened them he was-"
"-I love you."
"I'm sorry...you what?"
"I think...I think I love you-I think I'm...in love with you."
"Minho..."
"You don't have to say anything, I shouldn't even have said anything, it was shuckin' stupi-"
"-I love you too, you shank...I'm in love with you too."
smut time y'all
Your first time with Minho was honestly beyond any words you could use to describe. Although, it would be a lie to say it didn’t take a while to actually get there. And believe me, it did.
You were Minho’s first girlfriend, the first girl he’s ever actually had the chance to like - and he didn’t want to screw that up.
So he took his time. Not wanting to rush you into anything or to really even bring the topic up, afraid it might scare you off or make you think that he's only with you for sex. It's not like he didn't think about it, of course he did - he is a teenage boy after all. Some nights he'd fall asleep to the thought of your bare body, how he'd gingerly graze his fingertips over your torso, over the swell of your breasts, the smooth skin of your stomach, imagining how you'd tense as his fingers made his way lower and lower down your figure, until they reached the place you needed him most.
Just the image of your lying beneath him would promote a particular tightness in his pants that begged for release.
And just as the thought was in Minho's head, it was in yours too. It had been almost 2 months since you'd begun dating, and the most you'd done together were gentle strokes under shirts or against whatever bare skin was visible and some very mild dry riding.
Just as Minho had his needs, so did you.
Anytime it seemed that you too were finally getting somewhere, finally about to cross that line, Minho would make up some excuse about having to be up early the next morning - which wasn't all that false - but c'mon.
You'd had enough of the excuses so one evening whilst you and Minho were lying in his bed together you kinda just blurted it out - after having to work up the courage the entire day first of course.
"Why won't you have sex with me?"
"...I - what? what are you talking about? I just...where's this coming from?"
"Why won't you have sex with me, Minho? I mean don't you want to? Cause I definitely want to have sex with you."
"Of course I do...it's just-"
"Just what? Do you not find me attractive or-"
"You know I do. I just - I didn't want to rush you into anything, y'know."
"Minho...I want this. I wouldn't be asking if I didn't. I'm ready, okay? I'm ready for this - for you. I just want you."
hope you guys enjoyed this. something cute and sweet. let me know if you'd like a part 2 of minho head cannons <33 cause I love writing ab my sweet boy.
@the-witchhunter - this is incredibly disturbing, i love it. fair warning, i took it more in the direction of that oglaf comic (nsfw) where Vlad fully doesn't realise that this is a love shrine, this is a completely normal thing that you do for your arch enemy!
———
“Daniel! I can explain!”
“Oh… my… God...”
“Daniel, really, it’s not what it looks like!”
“Really?” Danny breathes, shocked and honestly kind of fighting down the urge to vomit. The thermos slips from his fingers and clatters to the ground, the sound echoing far too loudly in the enclosed space. “Because it looks like you have a shrine dedicated to my dad in your closet.”
“No, that’s not—it’s more complicated than that, Daniel. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I don’t think I want to understand.”
“Your father is a ridiculous man, Daniel. I hate his stupid face so much. Look at him!”
Vlad turns back to the actual shrine, with actual candles and actual flowers and actual photos of his dad with… Holy crap, did Vlad cut out Mom in each of the photos? What the fuck?
Wait… Look, Danny tries not to look too closely at the weird things Vlad has hidden around his mansion dedicated to his mom, but he’s fairly sure that the pictures of her he’s cut out (in heart shapes—yeah, Danny’s definitely going to barf) are the ones Vlad’s put in his other weirdo closet shrine that Danny also wishes he’d never seen.
“Why don’t you just have one shrine? Why have—no, you know what, I don’t want to know. I think I’m just gonna leave.”
Yeah, that sounds like the best option. Danny takes a cautious step back, very ready to get back home, bleach his eyeballs and maybe never look at his mom and dad ever again. Or, at least, not until he has successfully blocked this from his mind forever.
He only gets one foot out the door when Vlad lashes out and grabs him. The day just keeps getting better and better, really, doesn’t it? Even as he twists and turns, he can’t get out of Vlad’s ironclad grip and he’s pulled even farther into the closet.
Panic rises in his throat as Vlad shuts the door—what the fuck is happening? He doesn’t want to be dragged into Vlad’s creepy shrine to his dad, what the fuck? What the fuck!
“I loathe your father, Daniel, I hate him with the very core of my being. Look at him!”
There’s no goddamn way in hell Danny is looking at any of the pictures, no thank you. He squeezes his eyes shut and wishes he were somewhere, anywhere else, when Vlad jerks his arm forward so he comes nose-to-nose with the largest framed portrait of his dad in the very centre of the table, smiling with his doctorate and a very unfortunate 80s mullet. Dear God, no.
“I hate his smug face! I hate his stupid fashion sense, you have no idea how much I detest that orange jumpsuit of his, how much I want to claw it off him and tear it to shreds! If I have to listen to him say another boneheaded, idiotic, ridiculous thing, I will—I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth! You don't know how long I spend here looking at him, imaging all the ways I'll have him grovelling at my feet. One day, Daniel, I'll have him one day...”
———
The sun was going down when Danny finally managed to escape and find solace in Sam and Tucker. He's not going home. Not yet.
“Danny, are you okay? We were so worried, we couldn’t get hold of you for hours! Where were you?”
“Sam, Tuck… Vlad, he…”
“Holy shit, Danny, you’re shaking, are you alright? What happened, what did he do?”
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hetalia (Anime & Manga)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Characters: Russia (Hetalia), America (Hetalia)
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Married Couple, Introspection, Character Study, Russia has Issues (Hetalia), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, its extremely vague and one or two lines, but since that headcanon is what i was alluding to i’ll tag it jic, Sun/Moon Dynamics, worshipping your partner like a deity
Another suggested title: My Way Home Is Through You
My Way Home Is Through You
Ahhh this is a tough one! To make it easier on myself, I'm taking it incredibly literally and making it incredibly angsty!!!
So, here's what I'm thinking: DP x DC
Danny’s having a rough time of it, racing through the ghost zone, hurt, bleeding heavily, scared out of his mind - whether it's a reveal gone wrong, the GIW are after him, or Plasmius, it's dealer's choice - so he dives into a rapidly shrinking portal in front of him, hoping against hope that the other side of if is safe.
He doesn't recognise where the portal spits him out, but that's nothing new, all that matters is that it's closed and whoever's following him hasn't made it after him - without another thought, he leans back, closes his eyes and slips into blissful, restful unconsciousness.
So now here's the real question - who finds him? I feel like I'm leaning towards this being a romantic fic, so perhaps one of the batkids - let's go with Tim! - sees all this happen and takes him back to the cave to patch him up and when Danny wakes up a lot less hurt than he expected, he is immensely grateful.
But let's get back to the title!!! Whatever weapons were being used against Danny have affected his core (maybe Plasmius hit him with the Maximus) - or maybe there's just very low ambient ectoplasm in this new dimension - but whatever the reason, it means he's not able to heal quite as quickly as normal, so he's stuck having to rely Tim for a while.
We're entering slowburn country now baby!
It takes a little while for them to trust each other, for them to become friends, but it helps that Danny can be open and honest with him. This is a new dimension that he has no stake in, so Danny has no issues telling the batfam who and what he is, where he comes from and why he was running. Tim, being the gallant genius he is, begins working on a portal to get Danny back to where he needs to be.
Everyday, Tim checks on Danny's wounds and everyday, his fingertips leave trailing goose pimples where they ghost along his skin.
Tim doesn't realise what's happening until Dick takes him aside one day and tells him how proud he is of him for putting aside his feelings to build the very machine that will separate them, and that he'll be here for him no matter what happens.
It gets a lot harder to work on the portal after that.
Danny doesn't realise what's happening until the portal is complete and suddenly it seems impossible for them to say goodbye.
Without Tim, he wouldn't be able to go home, but... without Tim, would it still be his home?
