i have a lot of feelings abt how dcu / johns handled the court n pat relationship mostly good but i REALLY admired how they allowed court to call herself his daughter without calling him dad. it’s a really important key in a lot of step-parent step-child relationships that’s skipped over really easily into “oh the kid immediately calls the step-parent ‘dad’ or ‘mom’ in the big moment” but it’s so much more than that. i imagine court isn’t entirely comfortable calling him dad after the shaky relationship she’s had with the term, which is so completely valid? “dad” has never been a constant in her life and she doesn’t want to ascribe that to him. he’s her pat, and she’s his daughter. and that’s perfectly wonderful for them both.

*   manstar·.      /      syl.

      “ yeah ,   she works there . ”      her voice is a mutter ,   but not out of malice ;    she’s distracted by peeling the medical tape from his skin ,   trying to be gentle but wanting to get the job done as fast as possible .      his second comment goes by without response ,   mind far too focused on all that blood  &  tissue ,   trying to make it all better .      blue chipped nails apply  anti - septic ,   before cutting the gauze .      she’s ripping medical tape when he asks about her journal .       “ it’s fine . ”      she pauses ,   realizing her distracted response doesn’t make for good conversation .      “ it’s HELPFUL .      gets my feelings out . ”      she presses the medical tape against gauze  &  skin ,   thumb pressing to ensure security .      another piece is ripped .       her voice dims ,   eyes focused on the tape still .      “ i don’t want to forget this .      any of it . ”

me @ me: don’t fuckin do it me:

uhh heads up i will be gone from here until like. sunday if not longer im moving again DHSJAJSK

*   manstar·.      /      syl.

      god, she’s so tired. the whole day had exhausted her; physically, mentally, emotionally, all she had done was exert herself. and she’d fall asleep here, if she could. in this safe bubble, soft and warm, but she knows when she wakes up the blood will still be there, the world will still loom at the window. and she doesn’t want to move, but she has to. courtney has to try and wash this blood from her hands, all neptune’s waters invoked.       so she blinks softly, limbs moving with a sticky and cracking sense, that copper stench reemerging to remind her of what she did tonight. the staff chirrs low at her movement, small sniffles accompanying her steps to the bathroom.       she doesn’t turn on the light at first. her reflection is dim, barely visible. a shaking hand reaches out for the faucet, letting the water run. her eyes trace her face in that dark mirror for a moment; she can just about make out where her mask once laid from the blood on her cheek. she soaks her hands first, scrubbing in an attempt to clean them up enough to start on her face. she doesn’t bother with her cuticles and under her nails yet. a brief second passes before she soaks the pads of her fingertips for a second, before gently wiping her cheeks of residue. the blood has long since congealed, she supposes.        courtney really did consider asking syl for help with this cleaning up; he probably knows a process that’s easy and less traumatic. but this was something she needed to do alone. so she turns on the light.       and god, this image of herself is something she’ll never scrub from her mind. red-nosed, teary-eyed; that white star borne on her chest a cracked red. another tear falls down her cheek then and there, wiped quickly by an almost clean hand.       her eyes don’t move from herself in the mirror. “syl?” barely a whisper, but cuts through the silence the same. “can you-- do i have anything i can change into?” she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to shower. but syl was right; it’s a step. nothing is going to make these feelings go away on their own; nothing will fill this dull, hollow aching. but it’s a step.

      @fightwing​ prompted :      “ did you disable the alarm ? ” 

      frame descends with staff in grip ,   hair ceasing to float as her feet meet the ground and the anti-gravity laxes in pull .       “ yeah ,   i got it . ”       almost too easily ,   she considers ,   smile fading into worry ;    no one was guarding the alarm ,   no one SAW her or started firing despite her presence as a shooting star in the sky .       she can’t shake the feeling it’s a set up .       “ there’s no one here ,   nightwing .       it’s too easy . ”

*   appleyed.      /      dromeda.

      there’s an almost instant regret at her own mention of andromeda’s name ,   but she hopes it slips through the cracks ;    she hopes that in the bustle of moment ,   the other girl won’t pick up on it .      a small smile cracks on stargirl’s face at her compliment ,   warming by andromeda’s reassurance .      dromeda shouldn’t have to reassure courtney ,   STARGIRL should be reassuring andromeda .       a wince in another step ,   staff grip tightening like a lifeline ,   small laugh arising from her chest .      “ gotta save the town ,   right ? ”       she’s speaking too much ,  she thinks ,   god ,   her voice alone would be enough for dromeda to recognize her .      wouldn’t it just be easier to tell her ?      court trusted her ,   it’d be okay               “ i have to get somewhere QUIET ,   i can’t           ”      can’t have blue valley see her like this or have andromeda figure her out ?      god ,   she must have hit her head ,   she wasn’t thinking straight         

*   goldbolted·.      /      wally.

      “ they’re the BEST ,   right ? ”      a moment of imagination to how they must look right now ,   primary colours gleaming ,   an attribution  &  commendation for blue valley's greatest .      red gloved hand nudges fries closer to him in offering .      “ ketchup  &  onion , ”      words through small chew ,   glance towards fries as reference for the next words ,   “ you can have them ,   i don’t mind . ”

LANCE AND I CREATE THE CANON,

      @bornofpain​​ prompted :      “ you’re trembling. ” 

      “ it’s the cold . ”      a hollow attempt at a joke rattles throughout her rib-cage ,   eyes focused on the streets below .      TRUTH :    it’s half-fear ,   half-adrenaline ,   whole-uncertainty ;    a stir of emotion that both motivates  &  holds back .      this isn’t a regular mission ,    &  though she doesn’t doubt her own capabilities ,   it isn’t against a regular villain ,    &  it isn’t with her regular team .      stargirl is on edge .      “ i’m not SCARED .      it’s just           ”      she glances up then ,   weight shifting  &  staff grip adjusting .      “ this is a lot . ”