You would think that grown men would be able to interact with Superman and Batman without turning into thirteen-year-old girls. You would be wrong.

And then Hardison clicks to the next slide. "Of course, now the company had been bought by the Wayne Enterprises," he says slowly and pointedly, and all the others suddenly sit up, the focus of their attention shifting and narrowing. "No," Sophie says. Eliot nods once, sharply, and Parker does a rather good impression of one of those boggling-head-dolls, agreeing completely.

“Bring me the Joker’s head on a platter,” Jason says, and he doesn’t mean anything by it, not really. It’s the kind of thing he jokes about when he’s overwhelmed, and he’s overwhelmed by Tim a lot. Tim’s intensity makes Jason turn flippant, makes him counterweigh the seriousness with comments about his own torture and death, like that will somehow lighten the mood. Jason says all kinds of things, for all kinds of reasons. He doesn’t expect anyone to listen.

To be clear, Cassie is Wonder Girl. Very much so is she Wonder Girl. She likes being called that; she likes being called “she”. She likes being Amazon-adjacent enough to almost count as a sister to Themyscira. She doesn’t always like . . . other things associated with being Wonder Girl, though. Or even being a girl at all. Anyway, that’s why she just broke two pairs of scissors trying to get her stupid fucking hair to just fucking cut already in one of Titans Tower’s communal bathrooms. One of the girls’ communal bathrooms, which isn’t really helping how she feels right now.

[oh my god, they were soulmates?!] Tim’s soulmate likes some very odd things. It started off relatively mundane—Pokemon cards, chips, chocolate bars—but around Tim’s 14th birthday, things started to get weird. Tim started to feel the urge to collect what he could only describe as “paranormal investigator bullshit.”