Within the square walls of a comic panel, Raven presses her lips against Beast Boy’s cheek and snaps a quick selfie. She’s wearing a black mesh crop top, he has a Fall Out Boy shirt tucked into his belt, could it be anymore obvious? The bathroom is covered in juvenile debris – crumpled-up tissues, a toothpaste tube squeezed down to its final drop, but Raven doesn’t seem to care. One hand on his cheek, the other clutching an iPhone pointed at the mirror. It’s clear they’ve been…