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gblogg · 4 months ago

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Absolutely love this Lis! Wanted to say more!

Birthday boy, part I

A/N: This is for everyone who wanted a group food poisoning scenario. For the record, group scenes are hard to write in general, and group sick scenes even harder. This one has a lot of necessary plot to keep things from getting too boring. And it's only part one - we haven't seen the last of Drew and Jeremiah sick, or Rory and Noa. And what is Adam going to get himself up to? Huge, huge thank you to @bellysoupset for cheerleading this. Your reward is coming in the next part. And thank you to @writing-whump too, for listening to me blather on about Noa.

“Happy Birthday week to me!” Drew sang as he danced around the kitchen with his beer. He held out the bottle to his boyfriend. “You sure you don’t want a sip?”

Jeremiah laughed. “You know I don’t like beer, and I know you’re just asking to try to look generous. I’ll stick with bourbon tonight, thank you.”

Drew blew him a kiss. “I’m so glad you wanted to have everyone here instead of going out to some fancy restaurant. It’s going to be much cozier, especially with the snow we’re supposed to get.”

“It is your fourth celebration of the week,” said Jeremiah dryly. He studied Drew with amusement. “You never get tired of being celebrated, do you?”

“Nope,” answered Drew, popping the “p” at the end of the word. “Especially not with you.” He threw his arms around the other man’s neck and leaned in to kiss him, and then pulled back again. “But tell me more about the drama before everyone gets here - did Logan and Noa actually get in a fight?”

Jeremiah chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d say it’s a fight, but something’s going on. I think Gabe might be angrier at his sister than Logan is. And of course Rory got involved too.” The oven dinged and he began taking out several trays of his baked chicken wings and putting them on the counter. “I’m tossing half in sweet bar-b-que and half in spicy, right?”

“Right; and I’m calling dibs on at least half the spicy ones,” answered Drew. He pulled out a big metal tub they used to keep drinks in and started filling it with ice. “I know Noa likes to control things, but it doesn’t sound exactly like her to ignore that Logan was feeling sick.” Jeremiah hummed in agreement.

“I don’t think she was ignoring it, exactly; I think she thought Logan had more time.” He dumped half the wings into a big metal bowl and began tossing them in the sauce. “She called me later, Noa did. I know she feels bad about it all.” That was true, but his conversation had been a little odd.

“She seemed kind of, I don’t know, defensive? I think there’s more going on,” he told his boyfriend. “And I think Noa apologized to Logan, but I don’t think Gabe’s quite forgiven her.”

Drew raised his eyebrows. “I bet Rory loved that.”

Jeremiah nodded.’ Exactly. Going to be an interesting night, even before we include Adam.”

Drew rubbed his hands together. “Maybe I should make popcorn; this is going to be a drama.”

Everyone arrived at once, stamping snow off their shoes and chattering about how quickly the snow was falling. And at first, they all seemed to be on their best behavior, although Drew could see the cracks now that he knew where to look for them.

“If we end up having to sleep over, Logan and I call dibs on the guest room,” called out Gabe. “The rest of you can snuggle together on the sofas.” He plopped down on one of those sofas and pulled Logan along with him, looking at everyone else as if challenging them to disagree.

“The subways will be running just fine,” said Rory mildly. “I’ll take Noa home if it gets too bad out.”

“Or I’ll crash with Drew and Jeremiah; their bed’s the biggest.” Noa’s tone was light but the challenge in her voice matched her brother’s. Only this time it was directed only at Rory. Interesting; normally Noa was indulgent about Rory’s needs. Behind him, Drew heard Jeremiah huff, clearly agreeing with his assessment.

“Adam, looks like your sister beat you to our bed; how do you feel about that?” Jeremiah put an enormous platter of chicken wings on the coffee table.

The deflection worked; Adam smirked. “Miah, If that’s an offer to let me check out how much more Drew has taught you, I accept.” He looked around. “Is this all of us, by the way? No other guests?”

“This is everyone,” Jeremiah confirmed, and then added innocently, “why, were you looking for anyone special?”

Adam shrugged. “You have more friends than just us, don’t you? From the hospital? Or, I don’t know, anyone else’s coworkers? Don’t you hang out with some of them?” He spoke with deliberate casualness and Drew didn’t think anyone was fooled for a second.

Both Noa and Logan bit back grins. Drew saw Logan open her mouth to say something to the other woman and then snap it closed. Noa’s face shuttered. Apparently all was not forgiven quite yet. He cleared his throat.

“Since it’s my birthday, I say we can eat the meal in any order we want. In addition to the wings and savory charcuterie, we have a sweet charcuterie too.” He gestured expansively at the kitchen island where there were no less than a dozen platters of pastries and bowls of toppings. Gabe walked up and peered at the array.

“Good lord, what is all this stuff?”

“Drew’s already had three other birthday celebrations this week; some of this is leftover,” explained Jeremiah. “But the individual chocolate mousse cups and apple pie jars are new.”

“And we have ice cream, And the red plate has gluten free mini cupcakes and brownies.” Drew was almost bouncing with excitement. He had an enormous sweet tooth and even after a week of birthday treats he still wanted more. Ignoring the chicken wings for now he piled a plate with two mousse cups, a cake pop, and some apple pie, spooning whipped cream on top. Jeremiah wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“If you get a belly ache later, I hope you expect me to rub it,” he said, low in his ear. Drew shivered.

“I’ll have to eat double then,” he promised, turning to kiss the man on his lips. He scanned the room to make sure no one else had overheard. Everyone was busy taking food and there was the low murmur of chatting, but it seemed to be divided by couple. Rory and Noa were now on the longer sofa, Adam on the loveseat, and Gabe and Logan were sitting on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Drew didn’t think it was on accident. “Can we get them all drunk?” he muttered, inclining his head at their friends. “Maybe we should tell Adam we did invite Avery. Too bad he couldn’t come.”

“That’ll be for my next birthday,” grinned Jeremiah. He watched with amusement as Drew picked up the nearly empty cup of mousse he’d been eating and began licking the inside. Drew stuck out a chocolate-covered tongue.

“Kiss me,” he intoned dramatically. To his delight, Jeremiah leaned in right away, guests be damned.

“Mmm,” he said appreciatively. “Delicious. And the mousse too.”

“Drew, later tonight ask Miah what I showed him to do with whipped cream. I bet it would work with chocolate mousse too. Just make sure you have plenty of towels. Miah, do you remember . . . .”

“You’re my brother,” interrupted Gabe. “I really don’t need to hear this.” He looked over at his sister. “Noa, tell Adam . . . nothing. Forget it.”

Drew was ready to see some fireworks between siblings, but Noa wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, she was shaking her head at Rory, apparently disagreeing with something he’d just said. He was facing Drew’d direction, expression stony.

“Let’s get closer so we can.” Jeremiah whispered in his ear and nudged their heads in the direction of the couple. “I’ve seen Rory pissed before but never at Noa.”

“Let me grab my second mousse and then I’m there,” Drew muttered back, but before they’d gone two steps, there was a sudden lull in the conversations going on which meant everyone heard Rory’s comment clearly, sounding more frustrated with Noa than Drew had ever heard before.

“It’s only for a couple of weeks; no big deal.” He was looking expectantly at her as if waiting for her to agree. But she stayed quiet, biting her lip.

Drew thought he should say something but didn’t know what. Instead he took another bite of chocolate mousse. Damn, it was good. Mousse and drama, what a combination.

Finally Adam spoke up. “Okay, I give. What’s not a big deal?”

“Nothing,” said Noa quickly, before Rory could answer. “Just, you know. Rory being Rory.” She nudged him playfully, but Drew thought the action seemed kind of forced.

Adam scoffed so hard Drew could practically see his eyes rolling from across the room. “Well if it’s just that.” He leaned forward and pointed at Rory’s chest. “Let me guess, he wants you to have a chaperone to walk you to the subway and babysit you when he’s not home, right? Or doesn’t the FBI have those, you know, tracking ankle bracelets?”

Gabe snorted and reached across the table to bump fists with his brother.

Rory and Noa were both sitting very still, though.

Logan seemed to reach the conclusion first. “Wait, is that true? Is that why Rory asked me to hang out with you the other night?” She put her empty plate on the coffee table and leaned forward. “So you wouldn’t be alone?”

For the first time since Drew had known her, Noa seemed to be at a loss for words. For a second, he considered changing the subject again to give Rory and Noa privacy to figure out whatever was going on. If there was one thing he knew, Rory was not going to be ambushed into sharing anything personal that he didn’t want to.

But apparently Jeremiah had other ideas. He plunked a bottle of bourbon on the coffee table and another of wine. “You’d better stop with the dessert and grab some wings before they’re gone,” he told Drew. “This could take a while.”

Now Rory huffed impatiently. “It won’t,” he said flatly. “Because it’s not a big deal.” He got up abruptly and walked over to the table of sweets.

“Bring me a mousse,” called Jeremiah. “And a cake pop.” He started clearing up everyone’s plates and taking them to the kitchen.

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to move from dinner to desserts. Drew quickly finished his second cup of the chocolate and filled a plate with the remainder of the chicken wings while everyone else settled down with cupcakes and lemon squares and the small jars of apple pie and mousse.

Logan was carefully reading the label of the package of cupcakes Jeremiah had gotten her. “These look great, Jer, thank you.” She took a bite and moaned with pleasure. “Yum.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Can’t have you deprived of dessert, now.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry the rest isn’t safe. I know mousse usually is okay but I don’t know about the bakery that made it.”

“Don’t worry,” Logan assured him through a full mouth. “I’m still nervous about trying anything new, and after . . . you know.” She gave a little shrug and Gabe put his arm around her. Across the room, Noa made a frustrated sound.

“I said I was sorry; I wasn’t even the one who picked the restaurant that made her sick.”

“No, you’re just the one who wouldn’t let her leave,” said Gabe pointedly.

“Hey now, that’s not fair. She was trying to help.” Rory put down his empty dessert plate and glared at his best friend.

“Oh yeah, well she “helped” so much that my girlfriend almost puked all over the Uber.” Gabe looked daggers right back.

“But I didn’t,” began Logan. Apparently she’d taken it upon herself to be peacemaker. Drew dumped the last five wings on his plate and settled in to watch.

“A couple more minutes and you would have,” retorted Gabe. “There was no reason for my sister to be so thoughtless.”

“I wasn’t trying to be . . .” Noa interjected weakly. “I really thought it wasn’t going to happen that fast.” She turned to Logan. “You know that, right? That it was an accident? I wanted to apologize in person that night, but Gabe kicked me out.” She gazed pointedly at her brother, although there wasn’t a lot of heat to her words.

Rory was a different story. He slammed down the cup of mousse he’d been eating so hard the plastic cracked. “Wait, you kicked her out? At night? What the fuck, Gabe?” To Drew’s surprise he then turned rapidly to his girlfriend. “How did you get home?” he demanded. “Please don’t tell me you took the subway alone.” He stared at her so intently that Drew thought he felt the heat himself.

“It couldn’t have been more than 8 or 9, right?” Adam waded fearlessly into the fray. “What’s the big deal?”

“Here we go,” muttered Jeremiah under his breath. He sat down at the opposite end of the sofa and scooted over to make room for Drew. Drew started to take the rest of his plate of food with him but then put it down on the table before snuggling against his boyfriend. “Have enough to eat?” Jeremiah asked casually, looking at Drew’s almost empty plate and raiding his eyebrows.

Drew gave him a sheepish grimace. “Maybe a little too much; my stomach’s feeling kind of swirly.” He nudged Jeremiah purposefully and then glanced across the room, where Adam, Rory, and Gabe were still debating the safety of the Boston transit system. Logan and Noa seemed to have mostly made up, although when Noa looked over at her boyfriend and brothers the frown on her face grew. A second later Rory gestured in her direction.

“See, Noe? They agree with me. Even Gabe.” Rory waited a moment, and when Gabe reluctantly nodded, he turned to Drew and Jeremiah to explain.

“The asshole who attacked Noa is free on bond right now. So I don’t want her out alone at night. Not until the trial’s over. It’s not a big deal, and safer for everyone” Rory spoke in a way that made it sound like he’d been repeating the lines regularly. Behind him, Adam and Gabe were nodding again. Makes sense

“That sounds reasonable.” Jeremiah shrugged in agreement at Rory and then looked over to Noa. “Right, sweetheart? Just at night until the trial’s over?”

“But it’s not . . .” Noa disagreed, sounding frustrated. She glanced at Rory, took a deep breath, and started over. “Avery told me . . .”

“When did you talk to Avery?” Adam jumped into the conversation so quickly Drew would have laughed if not for the bubble of air working its way up his throat. He burped softly and then blew out a breath, wondering how much longer it was going to take for their friends to finish up their desserts and discussion. Would it be rude, as the birthday boy, to ask everyone to leave soon? He was starting to feel a little overheated and uncomfortable, which meant it was almost time for Jeremiah’s belly rub. But not yet, unfortunately. He took a swig of beer to try to clear the taste of spicy wings from his mouth and tuned back in on the conversation.

While he’d been focused on his stomach, everyone had apparently decided that yes, Rory was justified in asking Noa to avoid going out alone at night for the next few weeks. The tension in the room seemed to have dropped a few notches. Everyone was eating various desserts and Rory especially looked a lot more calm.

Only Noa still appeared unhappy, although she wasn’t saying anything, and Rory seemed uncharacteristically oblivious to her mood. He held out a spoonful of mousse to her with a grin. Noa ate it dutifully and then abruptly stood up and walked into the kitchen. Drew decided to follow her with a mind on either getting a glass of water or maybe some Pepto for his indigestion. Apparently eating dessert first hadn’t been the greatest idea.

Noa was already pouring herself some water and Drew held out his glass.

“You . . . hic . . . okay?” He rubbed his chest and grimaced. “Excuse me.” He wondered how rude it would be to unbutton his jeans. Pretty rude. He leaned subtly against the island, pressing his stomach against the edge to try to work up another burp.

Noa waved him off.

“I mean, I know Rory,” she answered, as if they were already in the middle of a conversation. And I get why he’s concerned, even though Avery told me that the guy’s staying way out in Lexington right now, and being monitored.by pre-trial services.” She shook her head. “It sounds like his bigger problem is with drugs, not violence, even though Rory doesn’t believe that.” She began playing with her water cup, twirling it in her hands.

Drew recognized that Noa was sharing more about her and Rory’s relationship than usual; he’d actually never heard her say anything even mildly critical before. So he swallowed down his discomfort with another gulp of water and tried to figure out exactly what was upsetting her. “So you aren’t worried?” he asked carefully. “At all?”

“Of course I’m being careful!” Noa said forcefully. “I’ve got it all under control.” Drew didn’t try to point out that wasn’t what he’d asked. His stomach gurgled noisily and he pressed it against the island again.

“So . . . s’cuse me . . . so you’re not going out alone at night?” he asked through a gulping hiccup. It was annoying, how much his stomach was churning. He hadn’t even overeaten that badly, planning to indulge in that privately with Jeremiah later. He’d kept aside a couple of the mousse cups for that exact purpose, although right now, thinking of eating more chocolate almost made him want to gag. He cleared his throat while Noa huffed impatiently.

“That’s not the point,” she said with more force than Drew would have expected. “It’s the rest of it, you know? Totally unnecessary.”

Drew did not know, but he wasn’t going to say so when Noa seemed to be eager to unburden. He and Jer could puzzle it out later; Jeremiah understood Rory better than he did. “So um, you said . . . Avery?” it was getting harder to pay attention through his stomach ache, but fortunately, that was all Noa needed. She nodded vigorously.

“Exactly. Avery’s got an eye on things too. He’s more like you; not trying to make all my decisions for me. Especially when I’ve got it all under control.” She crossed her arms and gazed meaningfully at him.

That was the second time Noa had mentioned having things under control, but that wasn’t really what Drew was focused on at the moment. He had to swallow hard before he could answer. “I’m sure you . . . uUrHuurp . . . do,” he gasped out through a deep, chocolate-flavored burp. He grimaced through a wave of what felt more like nausea than indigestion. Noa’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t look good,” she decided, and before Drew could stop her, reached out and laid her hand on his forehead. “And you’re clammy. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he replied automatically. “Just a little upset stomach. I probably shouldn’t have eaten so many . . . uUhlp . . . desserts.” That gulp was closer to a gag and he quickly swallowed down some more water. “I’m fine.”

It was too late; Noa had already marched out of the kitchen,

“Jeremiah, Drew’s not feeling well; can you come take a look?”

“I’m really okay,” he protested weakly, even though he wasn’t. His stomach was rolling and starting to cramp and Noa was right; he did feel clammy and uncomfortable. The birthday boy in him wanted to deny it and drag his boyfriend off to the bedroom for the fun they’d planned. The nurse in him, however, knew that the bathroom was a lot more likely. Another cramp twisted in his gut and he winced, just as Jeremiah walked into the kitchen.

“What’s going . . . oh darling, you look terrible.” The man didn’t waste any time but walked up and put both hands on Drew’s cheeks. Drew’s stomach took that moment to whine and Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “Indigestion?” He asked, moving one hand to Drew’s forehead and the other automatically to his wrist to check his pulse.

Drew shook his head miserably. “Maybe not,” he admitted. Another burp worked its way out of his chest and he let himself belch, grimacing at the taste of chocolate. “I’m really not feeling great.” He knew his boyfriend would understand that this wasn’t a game, not with everyone else here.

Indeed, Jeremiah was peering at him critically, eyes narrowing when Drew’s stomach gurgled again. “Noa, can you grab the Pepto from the cabinet next to the sink?” When she turned away, he lowered his voice to Drew’s ear. “Do you need the bathroom?”

Drew gulped again. “Not yet,” he decided. He really didn’t want to ruin the night for everyone. “Maybe the Pepto will help,” He could tell Jeremiah didn’t believe it any more than Drew did, but he nodded. “Let’s go sit down then.”

Everyone else stopped talking when he, Jeremiah, and Noa walked out of the kitchen. Drew decided not to beat around the bush.

“So. . . hic . . . sorry for bringing the party down,” he joked. “Apparently there’s a . . . a reason you don’t fill up on dessert first.” He sat gingerly on the sofa and accepted the cup of Pepto Noa handed him. “Hope we didn’t poison anyone.” He burped up the taste of more chocolate and tried not to groan. It felt cloying and thick in his throat, and mixed with the chalky-mint of the Pepto Bismol was really pretty gross. Jeremiah was still watching him with the careful attention of a doctor and Drew could almost see his mind working.

Gabe spoke up first. “You don’t really think it’s food poisoning, do you?” He gestured at the now much emptier table of desserts. “I mean, where did all that come from?”

Drew groaned. “Some is from the celebration the nurses gave me at the hospital on Wednesday.” He looked at his boyfriend. “It couldn’t have gone bad, right? I kept it all in the fridge. And the . . . uuhlp . . . the apple pie and mousse are new. From a bakery we like.” His mouth twisted with the memory of all the sweets he’d eaten. But he had to ask.

“Does everyone else feel okay?” He palmed surreptitiously at the side of his stomach, trying unsuccessfully to get it to calm down. There were mumbles from around the room denying any gastrointestinal upset.

“But none of us ate dessert first,” Adam pointed out. “So maybe it hasn’t been long enough to feel sick yet.”

“Ask Noa how long it takes to start feeling sick from something you ate; she’s the expert,” smirked Gabe.

Noa flicked beer at him. “Fuck you,” she said. “Drew’s really not feeling well.” She sat down next to him. “Do you want us all to leave?”

He really did, but as a nurse, he felt a little guilty about sending everyone home not knowing if they were going to come down with food poisoning. “It’s okay,” he gasped through another cramp. He lurched to his feet. “I’m just . . . I’ll be right back.”

“Love?” Jeremiah started to get up and Drew waved him away. “I’m fine,” he lied, before hurrying down the hall to their bedroom. God, his stomach really hurt.

Fifteen minutes later some of the pain was gone, but Drew couldn’t deny that he was starting to feel nauseous. He spit chocolate-tinged saliva into the sink and tried not to think about what might be upsetting his stomach so much. It clearly wasn’t wings; Jeremiah was too good of a cook for that anyway. But maybe it was just one of the desserts not sitting well and not an actual pathogen. He took a deep breath. At least he could say goodbye to his guests. And then come back to the bedroom and get into pajamas and let his boyfriend take care of him. It might not be in the way they’d envisioned, but a belly rub was a belly rub.

Except that as soon as he returned to the living room, Drew knew his chance of a belly rub was almost none. The pallor on Jeremiah’s face was unmistakable, and Rory was sitting with his arms wrapped around his waist while Noa rubbed his back. Drew bit back a groan.

“So it’s not indigestion then.” He sat heavily on the sofa.

“We think it’s the chocolate mousse,” Jeremiah said in a thin voice. “Rory and I had the most, after you.” He swallowed hard. “Did you vomit?”

Drew shook his head. “No.” He swallowed hard and then clarified. “I mean, . . . not yet.” He closed his eyes through a new wave of nausea. “So it’s just you and Rory?” He tried to make his sluggish brain work. Their Cambridge bungalow had two-and-a-half bathrooms, at least. That meant three toilets. And three of them were sick.

“I had a couple of bites,” Noa admitted. “Does that mean I’m doomed too?” She was rubbing Rory’s back and he let out a meaty burp.

“I had some too.” Gabe stood up and pulled Logan with him. “We’re going to leave before things get worse.” He rested his hand on his middle for a second. “I should be able to make it home.”

“Okay,” said Drew heavily. “Text us later.” He knew he should probably figure out Rory, but just then Jeremiah burped into his fist and more color drained from his face.

“Excuse me,” he muttered before rushing off down the hallway. Drew really wanted to follow him, although maybe he should also stay close to the half-bath. His rubbed his hand across his damp brow, trying to think through the nausea.

“Fuck, is he puking already?” Rory groaned. “What should I do?”

“I suggest staying close to a bathroom.”

Adam was still on the loveseat, looking bright-eyed and clearly not ill. He shrugged at Drew. “I’m not really a chocolate mousse guy myself. Looks like I’m going to be the last man standing here.” He looked down the hall to where Jeremiah had disappeared. “I’ll stay over tonight and take care of all your sorry selves.”

Drew stifled a belch into his fist. “You’re not a nurse.” Even feeling like hell he wanted to make it clear who’d be taking care of his boyfriend.

“I think I can manage pouring Gatorade and feeding you all crackers,” grinned Adam. He seemed almost amused by the entire situation. “Assuming you’ve got some; otherwise I’ll go out before we get completely snowed in.”

“Good . . . good idea,” agreed Drew. “There’s a . . . a CVS three blocks away. Make a left out the front door.” He turned back towards the hallway just in time to see Rory gag over his lap from his seat on the sofa.

“Fuck Rory, please make it to a toilet,” he groaned under his breath. And Noa, bless her, nodded.

Her own face was pale but she seemed to be in better shape than her boyfriend as she slowly hauled him to his feet. “We’re taking the guest room.” She swallowed hard. “And a garbage can.”

“The half-bath’s free too,” Drew reminded her, although he had half a mind to make a stop there himself. But instead he shuffled slowly down to the master suite, cursing under his breath to whoever it was that invented chocolate mousse in the first place.

The bathroom door was cracked open which either meant Jeremiah wanted company or he’d been in too much of a rush to close it all the way. Drew approached slowly, cautious of his boyfriend’s privacy, even though there was very little the two hadn’t seen. A harsh, grating burp echoed out of the room, and then a second, wetter one followed. Jeremiah groaned and Drew decided to forget decorum and pushed his way in.

His boyfriend was on his knees in front of the toilet, rocking back and forth as he forced up burp after burp, panting in between each one. Drew inched forward, not sure his own stomach was ready to see too much, but the water in the bowl was still mostly clear. Jeremiah burped again and he spit out thick saliva before burying his head in his hands.

“I’m going to kill the bakery,” he groaned. He turned his head to look blearily at Drew. “How are you holding up, love?”

“I need to throw up soon,” he admitted. “Adam went to buy Gatorade.”

“Well good for Adam,” Jeremia muttered. He burped again and then sat back on his heels and for the first time Drew realized he wasn’t wearing his pants, but only his boxer briefs.

“Did you have . . . diarrhea?” he asked weakly past the stickiness in his mouth. He was trying to gauge how much time he had before he needed to take his place over the toilet. Jeremiah shook his head.

“They were tight,” he ground out. “This is not the way I wanted to get naked with you.” He spit again. “I really need to get it up but I just keep burping.”

Drew braced himself on the sink as a wave of dizziness washed over him. “Maybe . . . maybe I can go first.” He gagged, drooling into the sink. There was a sudden heavy hand on his back.

“I wish this was turning me on,” said Jeremiah mournfully. “But it’s not.” He pushed on Drew’s shoulder. “Try to vomit, love. You’ve got all those wings on top of the mousse to get up.” He swallowed hard. “But try to do it quickly please.”

“No promises,” muttered Drew. He lowered him slowly down to the ground, taking Jeremiah’s place in front of the toilet. “And for the record, this isn’t turning me on either.” As soon as he was in position his entire stomach seized with a fresh wave of cramping nausea. “Oh god this sucks.” He leaned forward and burped up a mouthful of chicken wings, and then another before being reduced to empty gags for the moment. Finally he looked over at his boyfriend. The man’s face was gray, and he was gulping down, gamely trying to keep his stomach under control while Drew was getting sick.

You’re going to owe me another night,” Drew croaked, reaching up to flush away the mess. He knew he wasn’t done, but he also knew his boyfriend needed the space more right now..

“Let’s make it through this one and you’ve . . . got a deal,” agreed Jeremiah with a retch, “Now move.”

#finally got to read this fully #he never gets tired of being celebrated #oooh the fight #I think Rory is just being extra careful you know?#Jer cooking it up as usual #interesting night indeed #Still don’t see who’s in the wrong here #the awkwardness was everything #Noa and Logan trying not to laugh lol #he wanted that belly rub for sure #‘I’ll have to eat double then’ AAH #oh Adam has some techniques i see #drew practically grabbing popcorn for the gossip is killing me #Adam giving up with staying quiet #he NEEDS to know #THE LITTLE JOKES #Adam brings the vibes I’m telling you #this is like watching a show #nope she cant be deprived at all #Gabe oh Gabe #his snark comments are hilarious to me #‘what’s the big deal?’ oops #oh dear drew ate too much desert #the slow realisation #Adam jumping up at the mention of avery #noa i feel for you #drew held out for as long as he could #Noa exposing drew lol #doctor mode activated #‘hope we didn’t poison anyone’ foreshadowing?

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alittleemo · 1 year ago

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final update of the day

pros; got to finish my book (joy luck club), and movie (love simon) on the flight, gf meals they gave me were actually good, PIZZA I COULD EAT !!!!!!!, did some sketching, and wrote a LOT for my challengers fic

neg; lost my cookies i got in the airport AND the little snack they gave me </3, my dog fell off the counter and lost a tooth, watched a huge fight in the customs line, and my sisters suitcase was left in france

#lee’s bullshit #moral of the week is never go anywhere without at least a weeks rations ever again #Jesus I’ve been so hungry . Cannot wait to have like a fucking Oreo or something this week. A tortilla chip even #also I haven’t had a good gf and df pizza yet and the one today was rlly good and I didn’t get that sick from it :’) rlly exciting #i also ATE w my new reworked fic concept im v excited to keep working on it #(going to be connected one shots !! which is good bc I’m bad at transitions <3)#did not do any big bang work tho </33 #oh and yeah my sisters bag never made it on the plane we think. I feel so bad we waited for so long at the baggage claim :((#the dog was fine he’s j old and his teeth fall out easily acc to my gparents. poor guy tho oops #and finally there was a guy who YELLED in the airport that this guy was trying to pull a gun on him like bro be so fr #how could he possibly have a gun in his pocket at this point in the process. crazy town truly #anyway im going to bed even tho i want to do more of my challengers fic bc i hypothesize the time warp will reach me soon #so good night <33

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pucksandpower · 7 months ago

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A Royal Surprise

Max Verstappen x Princess of Wales!Reader

Summary: in which Max 1) forgot to tell his team that he has a girlfriend and 2) forgot to tell his team that the girlfriend in question is the future Queen of England … oops?

One of Red Bull Racing’s PR officers, Leslie, sits in the back of the conference room, her pen poised over her notepad as she listens to the team debrief. It’s a typical Thursday morning, with engineers and drivers discussing the upcoming race weekend. Leslie’s eyes flit between Max Verstappen and his teammate as they offer their insights on car performance and track conditions.

“The balance felt off in turn three during the sim,” Max says, leaning back in his chair. “We might need to adjust the downforce.”

Leslie jots this down, already planning how to phrase it for the press conference later that afternoon. Just another normal day at Red Bull Racing, she thinks.

But then, Max casually adds, “Oh, and by the way, you might see some extra security around this weekend. My girlfriend’s coming to watch the race.”

Leslie’s pen stills. There’s something in Max’s tone that makes her look up sharply.

“Girlfriend?” Christian Horner raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone seriously.”

Max shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, it’s been a few months now. We’ve been keeping it quiet.”

Leslie leans forward, her PR senses tingling. “Anyone we know?” She asks, trying to keep her voice casual.

Max’s grin widens. “You could say that. It’s Y/N.”

The room falls silent. Leslie blinks, sure she must have misheard. “I’m sorry, did you say Y/N? As in ...”

“The Princess of Wales, yeah,” Max confirms, as if he’s just mentioned dating a local girl from down the street.

Leslie’s notepad slips from her fingers, clattering to the floor. The sound seems to break the spell of silence that’s fallen over the room.

“Max,” Christian says slowly, “are you telling us that you’re dating the future Queen of England?”

Max nods, still looking far too relaxed for someone who’s just dropped a bombshell of international proportions. “That’s right.”

Leslie’s mind is spinning. Images of tabloid headlines and diplomatic incidents flash before her eyes. She stands up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “I need to make some calls,” she says weakly.

But before she can escape, Christian holds up a hand. “Wait, Leslie. We need to handle this carefully. Max, how long has this been going on?”

“About six months,” Max replies. “We met at a charity event in London. Hit it off right away.”

Leslie sinks back into her chair, her head in her hands. “Six months,” she mutters. “You’ve been dating the Princess of Wales for six months, and we’re just finding out now?”

Max has the grace to look a bit sheepish. “We wanted to keep it private for as long as possible. You know how it is with the media.”

Oh, Leslie knows. She knows all too well. “Max,” she says, trying to keep her voice steady, “do you realize what this means? The security implications alone ...”

“It’s all been taken care of,” Max assures her. “The palace has been very discreet.”

Leslie laughs, a slightly hysterical edge to it. “The palace. Of course. Because now we’re dealing with actual palaces.”

Christian clears his throat. “Right. Well, this certainly changes things. Leslie, I think we’re going to need to reschedule the rest of this meeting. Can you get started on a press strategy?”

Leslie nods numbly, her mind already racing with potential scenarios and damage control plans.

As the room begins to clear, Max approaches her. “Leslie? Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

Leslie takes a deep breath. “Max, I appreciate you telling us. But next time you decide to date royalty, maybe give us a heads up a bit sooner?”

Max chuckles. “Sorry about that. If it helps, you’re handling it better than your counterpart at the palace did when you found out.”

“Oh God,” Leslie groans. “I’m going to have to coordinate with the royal PR team, aren’t I?”

“They’re actually pretty cool,” Max says. “A bit stuffy at first, but they loosen up after a while.”

Leslie shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe this is my life now. Okay, Max, I need you to tell me everything. How did you meet? How have you kept this secret? What are the security arrangements?”

For the next hour, Leslie grills Max on every detail of his relationship with you. She learns about secret rendezvous in Monaco, carefully orchestrated “chance” meetings at public events, and the challenges of dating someone whose every move is scrutinized by the world.

“And you’re sure about this?” Leslie asks finally. “Dating her ... it’s not exactly going to be easy for you.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know. But she’s worth it. We’re worth it.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a twinge of sympathy. It can’t be easy, trying to nurture a relationship under such intense pressure.

“Alright,” she sighs. “I’ll do everything I can to make this as smooth as possible. But Max, promise me one thing?”

“What’s that?”

“No more bombshells, okay? My heart can’t take it.”

Max grins. “Well, actually ...”

Leslie’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? What is it now?”

“Her father ... he’s a big F1 fan. He’s been hinting that he’d like to attend a race.”

The room starts to spin. The last thing Leslie hears before everything goes black is Max’s concerned voice saying, “Leslie? Leslie, are you okay?”

When Leslie comes to, she’s lying on the conference room couch, with Max and Christian hovering over her anxiously.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Christian says, relief evident in his voice. “You gave us quite a scare there, Leslie.”

Leslie sits up slowly, her head still spinning. “Please tell me I dreamed all of that,” she mutters.

Max shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, it’s all real. Are you okay? Should we call a doctor?”

Leslie waves him off. “No, no, I’m fine. Just ... processing.” She takes a deep breath, her PR training kicking in despite her shock. “Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time. First, we need to draft a statement.”

Christian nods. “Good idea. What are you thinking?”

Leslie stands up, pacing as she thinks out loud. “We need to confirm the relationship without making too big a deal of it. Something like ... ‘Red Bull Racing confirms that driver Max Verstappen is in a relationship with Her Royal Highness, the Princess of Wales. We ask for privacy as they navigate this new chapter.’”

Max frowns. “Isn’t that a bit ... formal?”

Leslie sighs. “Max, you’re dating the future Queen of England. Everything’s going to be a bit formal from now on.”

“She hates that, you know,” Max says softly. “All the formality. It’s why she likes being with me. I treat her like a normal person.”

Leslie pauses in her pacing, struck by the vulnerability in Max’s voice. “You really care about her, don’t you?”

Max nods. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. She’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, kind. When I’m with her, I forget about all the titles and protocol. She’s just ... her.”

Christian clears his throat, looking uncomfortable with the display of emotion. “That’s all well and good, but we need to think about the bigger picture here. This relationship could have major implications for the team, for Formula 1 as a whole.”

Leslie nods, her mind already racing ahead. “We’ll need to coordinate with the palace on all public appearances. Security will need to be completely overhauled. And the media ... oh God, the media is going to have a field day with this.”

“Hey,” Max says, placing a hand on Leslie’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. You’re the best in the business, Leslie. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

Despite her stress, Leslie feels a rush of affection for the young driver. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Now, let’s get back to work. We have a lot to do before this news breaks.”

As they settle back into planning mode, Leslie can’t help but shake her head in disbelief. A Formula 1 driver and a princess. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale or a cheesy romance novel. But as she watches Max’s face light up when he talks about you, she realizes that sometimes, reality is stranger — and more romantic — than fiction.

“Oh, and Leslie?” Max adds as they’re wrapping up. “About the King wanting to attend a race ...”

Leslie holds up a hand. “One crisis at a time, Max. Let’s get through announcing your relationship before we start planning any more royal visits to the paddock, okay?”

Max grins. “Fair enough. But just so you know, he’s particularly interested in the British Grand Prix. Says it would be ‘jolly good fun’ to present the trophies.”

Leslie closes her eyes, already imagining the logistical nightmare. “Max, I swear, if you’re joking ...”

“Would I joke about something like this?” Max asks innocently.

Leslie looks at him for a long moment, then turns to Christian. “I’m going to need a raise. And possibly a personal team of therapists.”

Christian chuckles. “I think that can be arranged. Welcome to the new era of Red Bull Racing. It’s going to be an interesting ride.”

As Leslie gathers her notes and prepares to face the whirlwind that’s about to engulf them all, she can’t help but smile slightly. It’s going to be challenging, stressful, and probably more than a little crazy. But as she watches Max’s eyes light up at the mention of your name, she realizes that maybe, just maybe, it might all be worth it in the end.

After all, who doesn’t love a good fairy tale?

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whenstarsundress · 8 days ago

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— d is for drunk confessions

sylus never drank much. too many memories. too much control to lose.

but tonight, the edges had blurred a little. his shoulders had loosened and his sharp eyes had softened behind glassy warmth and half-hidden smiles.

and somehow, somehow, you’d ended up sitting beside him on the steps outside. cold concrete beneath you, night wind brushing your skin, and sylus leaning just a bit too close.

“you’re always warm,” he mumbled, head tipping toward your shoulder.

you laughed softly. “that’s just your drunk brain talking.”

“no,” he said quietly. “you always are. even when you’re mad.”

he blinked slowly, watching you like you were hard to look at directly, like something too bright, too real. your laughter faltered under his gaze.

“…you okay?”

“yeah,” he said. “too okay, probably.”

you tilted your head. “that’s not a thing, syl.”

he gave a low, sleepy chuckle. “it is for me.”

silence stretched. then he muttered, just loud enough to hear, “i love your voice.”

you blinked. “what?”

“your voice,” he repeated, eyes on your hands now. “it’s… grounding. i don’t know. when it’s quiet in my head, i hear you.”

your heart stuttered. he looked at you again, open, vulnerable in a way he never let himself be sober.

“you talk to me like i’m not broken,” he whispered. “like i’m not something to fix.”

“you’re not,” you said instantly, fiercely.

he smiled. it looked like it hurt. “you think that now.”

you reached for him before you could stop yourself. your hand brushing against his, fingers tangling gently. “i’ve always thought that.”

sylus stared at your joined hands. then up at you. “you’ll forget this in the morning.”

“will you?”

“no.”

and then, after a long pause, his voice turned soft, shy, impossibly small, “i love you.”

your breath caught. you didn’t know what to say.

he blinked slowly again, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “oops.”

“sylus—”

“it’s okay,” he said quickly, still smiling but quieter now. “just let me pretend i didn’t say it. just for tonight.”

you reached up, fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. “i’m not going to forget.”

he looked at you like he didn’t dare believe it.

“even if you do,” you added, “i’ll remind you in the morning.”

“…really?”

you leaned in and pressed the gentlest kiss to his temple. “yeah. really.”

sylus closed his eyes and leaned into your touch like it was the only real thing in the world.

and later, when he was asleep with his head in your lap, lips parted, hand curled around yours, you whispered it back. “i love you too.”

just loud enough for his heart to hear it.

#sylus #sylus x non mc #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus fluff #lads #lads x reader #lads x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads x non!mc reader

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mugsy · 1 year ago

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POP spoilers (?)

I think it’s just a lil bit funny looking back on Epithet Alternate (the goofy little EE roleplay group I did with some friends back in early 2020) cuz we accidentally predicted a couple of things that happened in EE/some future arcs for EE

Our first event was literally a jail break with Indus, Mera, and Ramsey (who didn’t even wanna come with). I don’t think any of us even knew there was gonna be an Actual prison break arc back then— we were still in the Really Early era of EE’s fandom. I think the only difference was that Giovanni was also there bc he accidentally revealed who he was online BANDNSNDNNF

ALSO ACCIDENTALLY PREDICTED GIO TAKING MOLLY AWAY FROM HER UNSTABLE HOME LIFE. THAT’S A BIGGER ONE. Only difference is that instead of hiding out at Crusher’s place, Ramsey helped him get his hands on an apartment. STILL THO. CRAZY AND INSANE.

Maybe it’s just the ability to recognize what would logically make sense as a next step for these characters? Idk! I think it’s a little funny in retrospect

#it took 4 years but I’m finally able to look back on EA fondly #after avoiding it like the plague for god knows how long #who knew that stupid system discourse being stirred up over a message from MONTHS AGO #that turned into a huge falling out in a discord server I modded in #along with a grown ass adult in their 20s guilt tripping 16 year old Mugsy #over a fucking fangan rp cuz they didn’t want their character to die #even tho they knew it was one of the things that comes w/ a fangan rp #AND ALSO IT WAS FOR A TRIAL THAT WAS WAY INTO THE FUTURE AND ALSO RLLY IMPORTANT #would ruin my ability to look at that period of my life in a positive way?#this is sarcasm btw I know this was all traumatizing and 2020 was a fucked up year for me #I think it’s funny to look back on it and laugh now tho #I’m 20 now I cannot FATHOM ever guilt tripping a 16 year old over a fangan rp #and honestly despite the Horrors that period of my life was fun while it lasted #I wish I didn’t delete my old blogs and I wish the old server was still up #I’d like to read back on the bullshit shenanigans we got up to #oops I’m rambling in my own tags #ah well who cares it’s my post and my tags I can do what I want

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ellana-ravenwood · 9 months ago

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“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do :

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing.

And that it was utterly...evil.

“It’s going to be FUN !”

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family.

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish.

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.”

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile.

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point.

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed.

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”.

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes.

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise.

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters :

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby.

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore).

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl.

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne.

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children.

That was happiness then, right ?

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”).

And that what’s made him particularly evil.

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !).

And he knew they were a little worried about him.

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family.

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad.

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried.

And Bruce knew.

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan.

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ?

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise.

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours.

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves.

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them).

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit.

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her.

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it.

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby.

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family.

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms.

Evil. Your husband was downright evil.

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW.

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”.

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself.

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin.

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing.

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?!

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation.

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him.

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them).

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children.

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated.

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today.

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird.

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least.

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ?

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image.

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy.

Odd.

Yet, sweet.

Were they surprised ? Yes.

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely.

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too.

Were they happy for him ? For sure.

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to.

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky.

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!”

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter.

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her.

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter.

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards-

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness.

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most.

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away.

Damian.

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously.

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends.

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her.

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ?

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family.

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”.

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice).

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life.

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking.

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon).

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them.

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes.

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly.

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”.

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes.

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her.

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course).

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh.

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born.

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together.

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him.

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman.

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that.

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to.

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it.

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA.

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable.

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ?

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.”

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people.

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time.

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest).

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed.

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him.

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone.

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents.

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements.

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted.

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really.

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to.

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart.

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too.

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least).

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions.

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep.

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too.

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace.

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little.

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him.

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ?

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way.

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and-

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept.

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel.

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture.

Seriously. That guy !!

************

Batman smiling was...different.

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad.

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes.

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say).

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much.

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine.

It made them all feel...soft. And warm.

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it.

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love.

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now-

His family.

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that.

A loving man, who wanted to protect others.

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all :

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate.

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons).

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction.

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower.

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child.

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy.

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah.

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world.

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant-

Oh it meant so much.

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters.

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious-

All positive feelings.

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them-

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh.

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness.

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly.

He knew.

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again.

He knew.

He never loved like that before.

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :).

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ?

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