Dave never asked to be part of the Brady Bunch. This whole 'normal' thing is harshing his groove, really getting his non-ironic goat. John, of course, is delighted. (Post-game slice of life fic, cheerfully assumes a happy ending.)

And, well. He gets impatient when he’s already in pain. He’s still got fifteen minutes until the meeting is set to begin, and the chances of him slapping Mr. Smith-Harguson so hard that the man’s toupee flies off are rising exponentially by the second. Yeah, that settles it. He needs an excuse to get out of here, and he needs it fast. - for the prompt 'jason todd, lover of fake kidnappings, meets tim drake, lover of chaos', but it... got out of hand. happy pride