#dcficit

Thad looks to the the possum and then to Bart with his usual disappointed expression as was the norm when dealing with Bart, but on the inside Thad was reeling at how different the two of them could be. Despite this though Thad wasn’t one to turn away an opportunity for mischief. Especially when it came to Bart.

TIM THOUGHT HE’D SEEN IT ALL, yet coming face-to-face (literally) with a possum caused the Boy Wonder to shriek for a second or two, before @dcficit held it closer to him. Although it was a baby, and possums were fairly docile animals, Tim didn’t exactly feel any safer around a possum. The amount of germs those things carry made him want to take five, hot showers, then dose himself in hand sanitizer just to make sure.

     THE LITTLE GEARS IN KON’S BRAIN ARE IN RAPID FIRE MODE, trying to fully process everything bart just said. but kon sees the possum, then the excited expression on bart’s face, and puts TWO AND TWO together before he finally catches up with the words. 

A grandson. 

Barry is still so floored. The grandson of a son he doesn’t even have yet. He’s willing to believe anything, of course, with all the weird, off the wall shit that’s happened to him over the years, he sort of has to have an open mind about everything. This, honestly, would be one of the less weird things to have happened to him. 

Bart really does look like the spitting image of him and Iris- give or take some extra genes. But maybe that’s just because he can feel the pull of the speed force in him and it’s almost overwhelming. 

“Well,” Barry says, standing straight again and leaning back to crack his back. “Hell of a job you did today, if ya ask me. How ‘bout somethin’ to eat? ‘tween you ‘n me, I know a place near by on the League’s tab.” He smiles. Barry of all people will be the first to admit he’s made mistakes with his family before- still does, sometimes. 

The sirens start blaring and Mick growls his frustration. Of course. Of course!

A number of possibilities runs through his head before he starts barking orders down the chain of command, reciting age old Get The Fuck Out maneuvers he’s heard Len say a thousand times. He’s running this show, not Len, and it figures that without him shit would go off the rails.

When he’s got the crew out, there’s a flash, a streak of lightning, and a smell of ozone and electricity that has the hairs on Mick’s arm standing on end. He grins, waiting to see who it is- he’s got dinner on, and they gotta know when to be around to eat-

Squinting a little, Mick stops to stare at the young man. This... this one he doesn’t know.

His crew urge him to hurry up and he tosses his duffel bag into the back of the van and signals them to get going as he aims his gun at the quick little speedster.

cake…..

@dcficit