#Jasonette July 2024

[mochegato]

Absolutely Smitten

Jason was beginning to regret his decisions.  Not just the ones that led him to his current predicament, but all of them.  Because only a massively dysfunctional historic pattern of decision making could result in this catastrophic situation from which there was no escape, at least not one he had found.  And he had been looking.  Don’t think a quick death hadn’t been considered, preferred even.  But at this point, quick was out of the question.

He dropped his head into his hand as they came to an abrupt stop, wishing the floorboard of the car would disappear and take him with so he wouldn’t have to face any more loathsome glares.  Glares to which there were no barrier because he’d allowed Dick to convince him they should take the convertible.  ‘It’s safer in Metropolis,’ he’d argued.  ‘How often do we get to do this?”  Clearly, too often.

Yet somehow, the glares seemed to have absolutely no effect on anybody else in the car.  And he absolutely refused to threaten to turn the car around again.  Dick was the geezer not him, damn it.  But he was not above begging.  “Will you please shut up for the love of all that is holy.”

“We are on our way to a Jagged Stone concert and you have a problem with his songs?” Dick teased, taking a short break for his own overdramatic interpretation of ‘You Are the Donut of my Life’ on order to torment his brother.

Jason had to lean forward to dodge away from Dick’s hands coming for his face, but he ended up leaning closer to Roy in the passenger seat who took the opportunity to pull him into a side hug, or rather pull him down and mess with his hair.  He shoved him away with a grunt and stepped on the accelerator at the green light.  “Not his songs.  Your caterwauling.  You’re tormenting half of Metropolis.”  He shot a pointed look to Duke in the rearview mirror.  “I expected better of you.”

“Don’t know why,” he snorted just before joining Roy and Dick in belting out the final lyrics.

Jason sighed and stepped on the gas.  The quicker he got to the arena, the quicker he could end this and pretend like he didn’t know them in the mosh pit.  His sigh turned into a groan when he was immediately with another red light.  What was worse was another car had now pulled up to their left, a car with a few guys, girls, and one gorgeous stunner in the passenger seat.

He breathed out a sigh of relief at the silence and shot her a dashing smile, a smile which widened at the blush that dusted her cheeks and the shy smile that graced her lips.  He opened his mouth to say something but before he could get the words out the opening chords of Trocaderock suddenly echoed down the street.  His smile strained as his treacherous passengers started singing again.  Not just singing, full on serenading the car next to them, wild gestures, reaching for them, impassioned inflections, and all.  He watched as the woman’s face morphed from shy to surprise to amusement.

“I’m sorry about them,” he called to her trying to be heard over them.  “I wish I could say sorry, they’re just drunk, but they’re not.  That’s just… them.”

Her smile brightened, the giggle she let out loud enough to be heard over the yowling right up until her friends joined in at which point her giggles turned into full blown laughter, lighting up her entire face as her eyes crinkled at the edges.  She took a moment to settle, but the smile continued to grace her lips.  “Same with mine.  But it makes life more fun,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, fun.  Sure,” he grumbled but eyed the rest of his car dramatically until she laughed again.

“You don’t sing?” she asked innocently.

He grimaced and shook his head.  “Like an angel.  It’s too powerful.  It would blow everyone away.”  He preened at the brilliant smile she responded with.

He kept eye contact as he accelerated slowly, making sure to keep pace with their car, until he had to return his eyes to the road, mostly because she pointed ahead of him and mouthed the word ‘road’ with a bemused smile, a smile, he would like to note, that was still there every single one of the many times he glanced over at her.

“Hey,” Dick called across to them.  “You guys going to the concert?”

“Yeah,” the woman in orange tips and glasses called back.  “You?”

“Us too.  We’re in the pit right in front of the stage.  You?” Roy yelled, not at all subtly looking between Jason and the woman with a sly grin.

“Us too!” a blonde man called back from the driver’s seat, a matching grin on his face as he looked pointedly at the woman.  “Guess we’ll see you there,” he promised before peeling off to the left.

“This concert is about to be a lot more interesting,” Duke smirked.

As promised, when they got through security, got their drinks, and made their way to the pit area, the occupants of the other car were already there, but Jason frowned as he approached them.  Not that they didn’t seem like fine people, but the only person he was really interested in seeing from their car wasn’t there.

He craned his neck to search the area with almost singular purpose, but aware enough to shove Dick away by the head for snickering at him and almost smacked Duke upside the head for nudging him with that smug smirk of his until he saw what Duke was pointing at, the woman trying to push her way through the crowd to get to her friends.  However, she was having a bit of difficulty due to her size.  Instead of the slap he had been anticipating, he patted Duke on the chest and pushed his way over to her.

“Need an assist,” he asked with his most roguish smile.

“Hey, Handsome Stranger” she grinned.  The expression on her face when she saw him, not just relief but excitement, made his chest puff out to accommodate his swelling heart.

“Hey, Pretty Lady” he grinned back.  “Come on, your friends are this way.  I’m Jason by the way.”  He didn’t even have to push through the crowd to get them back, the people parted as soon as they saw him coming.

“Ahh, so I should call you Jason instead of ‘my hero’?”  Her voice was cheeky and cheerful and it somehow made his already wide smile even wider.

He hadn’t smiled this much in years.  He ushered her ahead of him by the small of her back, his fingers tingling from the contact and his brain buzzing from the fact that she was not only letting him, but leaning into it.  “Oh, you can call me anything you want, Pixie Pop, just as long as you call me.”

She squeaked and hid her face in her hand, only removing it to wave to her friends as they approached, but her blush was so prevalent, it ran all the way down to the collar of her shirt.  “There you are, Marinette!” her friend with pink hair cheered.  She looked Jason over, her eyes lingering on the placement of his hand with a knowing smirk.  “And you come bearing gifts.”  She waggled her eyebrows at the two of them, very clearly enjoying embarrassing her friend.

“How did it go?” her blonde friend asked.  “Everything fine?”

“Yep, crisis averted,” she nodded.

“You good?” Jason asked carefully.  His eyes wandered over her thoroughly but efficiently.

“Not my crisis,” she assured him.  “Not a crisis at all, actually, just a drama king.”

“Awww look how smitten he is,” he heard Duke coo somewhere behind them.

Jason nodded to Marinette.  “Good to hear it.  Give me just a sec.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the only thing he had in that pocket, a handful of coins, throwing it at Duke without breaking eye contact with her.

Marinette giggled at his move but turned away when the backup band took the stage.  Jason took the opportunity to step up behind her and lean down close enough for her to hear him among the din of the crowd.  “So, you going to sing this time?  You never did say if you like to sing.”

She grinned and leaned a bit closer to him without taking her eyes off the stage.  “I sing all the time... and very off key, but my dancing... that is also bad.  But I have never let that stop me from having fun.”  She finally turned her face to meet him with a teasing smirk over her shoulder.  “What about your dancing?  Do you also dance like an angel?”

He hummed and let his eyes roam her face.  “No, there’s nothing angelic about the way I dance and rarely in public.”

Her blush raged across her face again, but she refused to break eye contact.  “You just going to stand there stoically then?”

“Might be persuaded.”  His voice dipped down, as did his eyes to her lips for just a moment before lifting back up to her eyes.

They kept eye contact until the area around them shook with the reverberations of the guitar flowing through the arena and drew all eyes to the stage, some more slowly than others.

Marinette proved herself to be honest though not terribly coordinated over the next several songs as she sang and danced with her friends along with Jagged Stone, though to be fair, nobody was really dancing so much as jumping around just like her.  She didn’t take a break until he played one of his slower songs.  But no matter how high she lifted herself up onto her tip toes craning her neck to see the stage, she couldn’t make herself tall enough to see over the crowd and after a few moments, she gave up the hope of seeing anything until the song changed and she could start jumping again.

“Need another assist?” Jason whispered into her ear.

She blinked at the words.  It took her brain a few moments to get past the feeling of his chest against her back and his breath on her neck and ear, and process what he had said.  “What?”  She was going to need a few more moments.

She absolutely had not expected Jason to pick her up and set her on his shoulders like lifting a pillow.  “Better, Pixie Pop?” he asked, but the lilt to his voice made it clear he was teasing her.

“Yes,” she acknowledged shyly.  After a moment she cleared her throat and smirked down at him.  “Glad to see you’re living up to the hero moniker.”

He wrapped his hand around her thighs, ostensibly to secure her position, but really more to feel her bare skin under his hands.  He grinned at the yelp she let out and slight jump.  “I just want to make sure you’re enjoying the show.”

“Oh, um, yep, en… enjoying the show.”  It took a few moments before she eased her muscles again and began swaying to the beat of the song.  It didn’t take much longer before Jason followed her lead rocking to the music as well.  “So, you do dance,” she teased.

He immediately stopped and tightened his laxed grip on her thighs.  “I'm not dancing,” he insisted.  “Your dancing is shifting my balance.  Just trying to keep you safe.”

She took a few seconds to respond, during which time, Jason could almost feel the incredulous look he knew she was shooting him.  “Huh, it's a very rhythmic shift.  Almost like it's a pattern of smooth movements.”

“So, you think I'm smooth?” he asked overly sweetly as he adjusted his hands and let his thumbs rub circles on the outside of her thighs.

She shook her head.  “Oh, I know you are,” she whispered breathily.

The music shifted tempo again and Jason carefully lifted her off his shoulders and set her down gently.  She turned and met his eyes as everyone around them started bouncing and singing loudly to the song, all of it melding into the background as their gazes intensified until Marinette suddenly got bumped into Jason.  His arms started to circle around her until her friend with the orange tips almost tackled Marinette from the side.  “It’s Mirockulous!” she yelled and pulled Marinette closer to the stage.

Unfortunately, between her friends pulling her in different directions and Jason trying to figure out if Jagged Stone really was staring at him suspiciously from the stage or if he was making it up in his head, they stayed separated until the end of the concert.  But the moment it ended, he intended to search for her, but as it had turned out, he hadn’t needed to because Marinette almost instantly appeared in front of him having pushed her way through the crowd to get to him.  He grinned brilliantly.  “Hey there, Pretty Lady.  Missed you.”

She took the last few steps to him, stopping just short of touching him.  Her arms twitched, almost like she wanted to reach for him, and he really, really wanted her to, almost to the point of reaching for her himself.  “Hey, Handsome Stranger,” she grinned back.  “The last part wasn’t nearly as fun without you.”

Dick popped up next to Jason, slinging his arm over his shoulder to smile at her and her friends who had wandered over to them.  “We were going to find somewhere to get some grub.  You guys up for it?”

Marinette met Jason’s eyes; her eyebrow raised in question.  “How about a trade?” he offered without breaking eye contact.  “You can give the one making eyes at your friend a ride,” he shoved Duke toward Marinette’s blonde friend, “and we can give Marinette a ride?”  Jason didn’t wait for the others to respond, at Marinette’s nod, he grinned and took her hand leading her out of the venue.  He silently congratulated himself.  Clearly, his decisions lately had been the best decisions of his life.

[maribat-calendar-events]

Jasonette July 2024

Welcome to Maribat Calendar Events July event. July is dedicated to JASON TODD.

Do one prompt!  Do them all!  Do your own prompt!  Any participation is great! They just serve as ways to encourage that creativity.  No Pressure.

This year, the prompts have a sound track! We've created a Spotify playlist of songs we felt resonated Jasonette. Follow the QR code or the link at the bottom of the post to listen.

Make sure you tag us so others can more easily see your work:

AO3 COLLECTION:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/JasonetteJuly2024

TAGS FOR TUMBLR & AO3:

#JASONETTE JULY #JASONETTE JULY 2024

TAG THIS BLOG  @MARIBAT-CALENDAR-EVENTS, @jasonette-july-event​, AND REBLOG SO OTHERS GET A CHANCE TO SEE TOO!

Guidelines

Any orientation or relationship style is welcome and encouraged (familial, platonic, romantic, aged-up NSFW)!

Any creative works (writing, fics, drabbles, head-canons, art, poetry, incorrect quotes, etc.) are accepted

Tag @maribat-calendar-events in your works so we can share it

Use the hashtag so others can see your work

Keep NSFW works under the ‘Keep Reading’ line with an appropriate warning above

Questions? Send us a message/ask, or contact @mochegato or @izanae

Get creative and have fun! We all look forward to your participation and submissions!

Spotify Playlist:

WRITTEN PROMPTS UNDER THE 'KEEP READING’ LINE

Hey Jealousy

Misbehavin’

Protector

Unsteady

Surrender

Mercy

Holding Out for a Hero

Here is Love

Comeback Kid

One Right Thing

What If’s

I’ll be Good

Say You Won’t Let Go

Lay All Your Love On Me

Battle Scars

Hurricane

Tear in My Heart

Lose Control

Beautiful Things

Meant to Be

Home

Only the Good Die Young

You Wreck Me

When the Day Met the Night

Safe

Femme Fatale

I’m Yours

From the Grave

Sweet Hell

Fire and the Flood

Wildflowers

Alternatives

Leather for Hell

Glory of Love

Buttercup

Absolutely Smitten

Fire on Fire

Treat You Better

[marauderundercover]

Jasonette July ch. 1

AO3

Chapter 1: If I hadn't blown the whole thing years ago, I might be here with you

Glancing at the email again, Marinette can’t help but feel sort of bittersweet. She’d used to think that when she finally went to Gotham, that her best friend would be there waiting for her. She’d thought that by the time she finally was able to visit Gotham, that they would have revealed their actual identities. Instead, she was just past the three year mark of losing her best friend. Taking in a deep breath, she pushes her negative feelings aside. She should be excited for her new opportunity. She should- She sighs as her phone starts blaring. Grabbing it, she glances at the caller ID and smiles before answering.

“Hey,” She says, relieved at the chance to get away from her own thoughts.

“Hey, kiddo! How’re you doing? Hear back from any colleges yet?” Dick Grayson asks. The man had found her back when Robin passed away, but he’d found her as Nightwing. Apparently he’d worked with Batman and Robin before, and had helped Batman go through Robin’s comm logs and history to see if there was anything important. He apparently hadn’t been aiming to actually make contact with her in Paris, but she was really glad that he had. He’d saved her. He’d found her at the darkest time of her life, and been there for her like no one else could. He’d also mentored her as a hero, which was amazing since she hadn’t really had any help on that front since Master Fu had given her the role of Guardian.

“As a matter of fact, I just heard back from Gotham U,” She says, having to yank the phone away from her ear as Dick whoops.

“I knew you could do it!” He cheers, and Marinette snorts.

“I didn’t say yes, yet,” She points out.

“But you didn’t say no, right?” Dick asks, and Marinette sighs. He cheers again, and she can’t help but smile a bit. Dick was a great mentor. He cared about her outside of the mask, which is one of the reasons she’d applied for Gotham U despite not being able to go with her best friend anymore. Dick had insisted that Gotham was still a place she’d enjoy. So she was willing to try.

“Course not. Are you sure it’s safe, though? Weren’t you just complaining about that new Crime Lord like, three months ago?” She asks. Sure, she knew that Gotham had an insane amount of villains (or Rogues, as Dick called them), but apparently Red Hood was different from the rest of them.

“I actually don’t think I’ve complained about Hood for like six months,” Dick corrects her. “Besides, he’s…well, he’s not as bad as we’d originally thought.” Marinette chokes on the coffee she had tried to sip, eyebrows raised.

“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘heads in a duffle bag’ isn’t as bad as you originally thought?” She asks. Dick’s silent for a minute.

“Yeah, yeah he’s not as bad as we thought, kid.”

It had been a couple months since Marinette had been accepted into Gotham U, and she was finally moving into an apartment in Gotham. Dick had originally said that he would help her, but something had come up and he’d had to go do Nightwing stuff. Which was fine. She was just in a city she didn’t know in a country she hadn’t grown up in. Everything was fine. Walking out of her building, she starts heading towards the convenience store that she’d seen on her way to her building earlier. She figured she’d go shopping for actual groceries later, and just grab something quick for tonight and tomorrow morning now. Before she can make it to the store, something grabs her wrist and she inhales sharply. She tries to tug back, but whoever had her wrist yanked her into the alleway.

“Just gimme your wallet,” A gruff voice demands. Marinette tries to pull her wrist away, but the man’s grip just tightens.

“Let go,” She says, unable to stop her voice from shaking. She was cursing herself internally for leaving after dark. Robin had told her so many stories of Gotham, so many different ways it wasn’t safe, and yet she hadn’t listened. And now she was being mugged on her first night. Joy. The man tugs her closer, and Marinette feels her heart stop as he looks down at her.

“C’mon, Sugar, just gimme the wallet and then you and I can have a little fun,” He says, and her stomach drops.

“Please, just let go,” She pleads, pulling harder to try and get out of his grip. The man snarls at her, but before he can do anything an unfamiliar voice rings throughout the alley.

“I believe the lady asked you to let go,” The voice calls. Marinette twists as much as she can, eyes widening as Red Hood stalks further into the alley. Almost immediately, the mugger lets go of her and pushes her away from him. She stumbles as he runs, obviously scared of the (former?) crime lord.

“You’re not gonna stick my head in a duffle bag, right?” She asks instantly. Red Hood snorts, shaking his helmet-covered head.

“Uh, no. That’s uh, I’m not-” He stops, letting out a long exhale. “I don’t do that anymore. I was just making sure you were okay.” Marinette nods, giving him a half hearted smile.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. I don’t always have the best filter,” She apologizes, laughing awkwardly.

“Do you need an escort home?” Red Hood asks. Marinette shakes her head.

“No, thanks. I’ve got to stop by the store-”

“Seriously? You were just almost mugged and you’re going to the store?” Red Hood asks incredulously. Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I just moved in,” She says simply. Red Hood crosses his arms.

“I’ll walk you to the store and then home,” He says. Marinette snorts, but Red Hood doesn’t move.

“Oh, you’re serious?” She asks. He nods. “Mon dieu. Okay, let’s uh, let’s go, I guess.” Gotham was sure to be interesting.

Jason sighs as he drops onto his couch. It’d been a long week. Somehow, Dick had managed to convince him to sign up for classes at Gotham U. He wasn’t exactly sure how it worked, especially given the fact that he’d been dead for the last two years of high school, but it was done. So on top of keeping Crime Alley running smoothly and going on his normal patrols, he’d spent the days this week going through registration and getting his school supplies. Stuff he hadn’t expected to ever really matter for him again. Just as his eyes start to flutter close, his front door is thrown open. He immediately jumps, one hand on his holster.

“Chill out Jay, it’s just me,” Dickhead says, walking in with a bag of takeout. Jason huffs, flopping back down onto the couch.

“Why the hell are you here?” He asks, eyes narrowed. Dick just grins.

“I brought food,” He says. Jason just blinks. “Okay, fine. I just wanted to see how you are. I know this has been a hard week for you.” Jason snorts, shaking his head.

“Definitely not the worst I’ve ever had,” He points out, feeling a little bad when he sees Dick wince. “I’m fine, Dick. The most interesting part of the week was when I helped some French girl who was getting mugged.” Dick’s eyes widen a fraction before he frowns.

“A French girl?” He asks. Jason nods.

“Yeah, said she came for Gotham U. Though why anyone would come to Gotham just for college, I’ll never understand.” Dick laughs nervously, and Jason raises an eyebrow. “Is she some secret girlfriend of yours or something?”

“Of course not,” Dick scowls. Jason just laughs, grabbing the food Dick holds out for him.

“Don’t suppose you’re gonna tell me why you reacted that way?” He asks, and Dick shakes his head.

“It was nothing, Jay. Just…interesting that someone would come here for college is all,” He says. And look, Jason is not stupid. He knows that Dick’s lying, but he also knows that if Dick doesn’t want to tell him, he’s not gonna tell him. They’ll just go in circles all night. And honestly, Jason’s too tired for that. So instead, he’ll just eat the food his brother brought, and try to forget all about the French girl and the fact that she’s obviously connected with his brother somehow.

@maribat-calendar-events

[maribatserver]

Tag Team Tournament 2024

We're back for another year of good old fashioned fandom fun! This year the Tag Team Tournament will take place from Sunday, July 28th - Saturday, August 3rd, so make sure to save the date and get started on your projects early!

We've got some fun things planned this year, but we're also making some changes to how we're running the event this year! For the full rules and guidelines, check out our Event Guide Document, now newly revised for 2024! The short version is that we've changed some of our scoring to remove certain exploitable flaws that were exposed last year, clarified submission guidelines, added new ways to earn bonus points, and changed our team lineup!

Now, last year we had a very popular Shipping Bracket to determine who our eighth team would be, but this year we decided that we wanted out lead up event to better help you all prepare for this year's event. Also, @nottesilhouette asked really, really nicely for last year's runner up ship to get a chance in the Tournament, and how could we tell them no?

This year, our teams are:

Seamless Spin - Cassandra Cain x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

3's Company - Any Poly Ship

Rare Flair - Any Ship Without A Team

Lucky Shot - Roy Harper x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Spandex Flex - Dick Grayson x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Art Couple - Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Java Junkies - Tim Drake x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Book Design - Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

We are super excited for this year's Tag Team Tournament, and we hope that you're excited too! To help you get in the creative spirit, and to hopefully inspire you with ideas, @newdog14 assembled playlists for each of our teams, which will be published one by one over the next few months. She got the idea for this after assisting with this year's Jasonette July Calendar Playlist, organized by @mochegato & @izanae, which we also encourage you to participate in.

Oh, and one more thing. We have heard that for some folks, particularly those who are responsible for small humans, the summertime is apparently not filled with an abundance for free time. So we thought we'd go ahead and give you all a little more to go on for your prep work this year, and as such we'll be publishing all of our prompts early this year, so be sure to keep an eye on our blog on Sundays going forward.

Many thanks to @newdog14, @nottesilhouette, and @izanae for their hard work in preparing this event. From brainstorming prompts to designing team logos to coding spreadsheets to tolerating certain people's tyrannical playlist standards, there's a lot of work that goes into an event this big! And thank you to everyone who has participated in this event, and to those who plan to participate this year. We could never pull this off without you!

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Twisting Smiles into Snarls

by Anonymous Marinette Dupain-Cheng isn't a huge fan of Batman and Nightwing. She's even less of a fan of the infamous Red Hood, and that was before he attacked her mentee. Or, “We got married last fall" "Oh, that's great" Words: 7634, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug, Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU) & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Additional Tags: MGI Secret Writer 2024, jasonette July, Slight Bruce Wayne Salt, kind of, Slight Dick Grayson Salt, again kind of, Marinette doesn't think they were good mentors, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Robin, MariBat, Marinette needs an aspirin, Pre-Relationship, ish via https://ift.tt/O3PWFq1

[mae-dwrites]

Events

Featured: Jasonette July • Shutterbug Station • Mayday • Malachite Milestones

Links under the cut <3

Jasonette July 2022 (Ao3)

Aim

Target

Strike

Jasonette July 2024 (Ao3)

Misbehavin’ - D2 - R

Protector - D3 - R

Unsteady - D4 - P

One Thing Right - D10 - P

Home - D21 - R

From The Grave - D28 - P

Shutterbug Station 2024

Bonus Day 1: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Angst Day 1: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Angst Day 3: Meme - Chloé/Jason

Fluff Day 3: Meme - Alley Cat

Final Bonus Day: Fanfiction - Angst - Tim Drake & Zoé Lee

Final Angst Day: Fanfiction - Tim Drake & Zoé Lee

1 of 10 no prompt: Fanfiction - Angst - Zoé Lee/Jon Kent, Chloé Bourgeois, Damian Wayne

Mayday 2024 (Ao3)

Poem 1: Meet an Eclipse

Poem 2: Coffee Haven

Poem 3: More than a bump

Poem 4: Follow, My Life

Poem 5: The Night We Met

Malachite Milestones Event (Mae’s Version) 2024 (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Ring

Scratchy

Could we?

Shutterbug Scoops 2024 | Note: Cross-Submitted with the Malachite Milestones Event | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Ring

Scratchy

Could we?

Summerween Special 2024 | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

B5 - Chapter 1 of Coffee Stains and Leaky Pens

C2 - Chapter 2 of Coffee Stains and Leaky Pens

Adribat October 2024 | (Ao3) (Wattpad)

Day ??

Day 5 - Jack O’ Lanterns - fanart

Day ??

Day 26 - Hot Beverages.

[ali-annals]

sparks fly (like a fireworks show)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: T | Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ao3 | WC: 1.8k

TW: Mentioned kidnapping, mentioned sacrifice to summon a god.

A/N: This is part of a series called The Eras Tour (Jasonette's Version), a collection of Jasonette-centric fics I wrote for the Maribat discord server Maribat? Get In!'s 2024 Civil War event. Not beta'd.

Summary: Kidnapped to be sacrificed to a weather god, Marinette wishes she'd been a little bit braver in her relationship with her best friend.

July 14–Bastille Day

Paris, Right Bank of Paris

Her wrists were burning, rubbed raw from the rough fibres of the rope tying her to the pillar, but Marinette kept wiggling anyways. What was a rope burn or two compared to almost certain death if she stayed tied to the pillar as a sacrifice to the weather gods?

The rope loosened a bit, bolstering the small flame of hope in her heart. It had flickered more than normal when she woke up from the unplanned nap she’d taken on her way back from the fabric store. She was stripped to her underwear and tied very thoroughly to the cold stone pillar at her back. As Marinette, and near-naked, there was nothing she could do except hope for help.

Help that was unlikely to come. Paris’s heroes had all retired after Hawkmoth’s defeat, burnt out from being forced into heroism as children. She, as Guardian and therefore unable to retire, had up and left, eventually joining Justice League Dark as a reserve magician.

However, even with her League connection, there was only a slim chance one of them would come save her. She was in Paris as a civilian, simply to visit her parents over the holidays, and 

hadn’t taken her League communicator with her, seeing no need for it when she was taking time off from heroing. She supposed it just went to show that you might take the girl out of heroing, but you’ll never take heroing out of the girl. Or however it went. She had better things to do than parsing English idioms, like escaping to save a city.

The rope loosened a teeny bit more. Marinette yanked harder, hearing faint cheers from outside the building she was in as revellers enjoyed their time off. They didn’t know that if she didn’t get loose in time, they were all going to die like her, unwilling victims of the god of thunder.

Of course it was just her luck that she was kidnapped, decided to be a perfect sacrifice to hail Taranis, the god the cult that kidnapped her worshiped. She wiggled her thumb a little more, desperate to free herself and break the summoning circle. 

The cheering outside grew louder as an announcer counted down the minutes until the firework show. It was past sunset. She only had a few more minutes. Marinette redoubled her efforts, straining against the rope with all her weight.

“Marinette!”

“Marinette!”

She looked around at the second call of her name, thinking she had hallucinated the first one. If someone was looking for her…Squashing her instinct to call for help from around her gag, she bit her tongue and pulled her wrist free a little further. 

“Marinette!”

She looked up in defeat, knowing nothing she did would make her dearest friend leave while she was like that. Still, the thought that he could do something, that she was not alone, raised the flame of hope inside her.

He took in the circle of runes, drawn in blood on the marble floor of the bank they were in, glancing between her and the portal. “How much time?”

Her muffled “five minutes” got through to him and he nodded at her, rolling his sleeves up and dropping to his knees. With a muttered spell, he had a small jar of something obviously magical in his hands, which he used to write what Marinette made out to be neutralizing spells around the most potent, dangerous summoning runes. 

The cheering increased, but all Marinette could hear was the rush of blood in her ears and the thump of her heart far too high in her chest to be healthy as she watched him work. 

He jumped up with a satisfied sigh and headed towards her, slicing her free from the ropes with the knife he always kept on him and sweeping her into his arms. He darted out the way he came in, a small side door, heading for a nearby fire escape to rest under and check on her. 

He pulled the gag around her head free, handing her a water bottle to cure her desert-dry mouth. 

She drank most of it in one gulp, then remembered it was better to take smaller sips. 

“Jason, why are you here?” She hadn’t gotten very far running from him before he came after her.

He grinned at her, that dear, cocky-yet-soft smile she’d been sure she’d never see again. “I’m a Bat, Pix, we stalk people. I came to impose on you and eat your parents out of house and home, but when I met your parents, they said you’d been gone for ages. So I came looking, found your trail, and got you. Why were you there?”

“I got knocked out and kidnapped on my way home. Some cult of this god of thunder thought I was a good appetizer sacrifice to summon him. What did you do to that circle, by the way?”

“Neutralizing runes. The bank will survive, you won’t. It was quicker and had a higher chance of success than completely breaking the circle. There should just be a storm in a few seconds.”

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the noise of a small explosion sounded from inside the building, covered by the cheers and pops of fireworks going off all over the city. 

Jason picked her up in his arms again. “I’ll take you home.”

She settled against his chest, inhaling his comforting smell as they headed towards the bakery.

~~~

The sky had clouded over on the way home, grey clouds punctuated with bright flashes of sheet lightning and colourful constellations of fireworks. A drop of rain hit Marinette’s nose.

Jason set her down outside the bakery door, taking a step back. “I’m glad you’re safe, Marinette.”

She knew he was right, that they weren’t a good idea, but it still hurt for him to set that distance between them. “Thank you for coming after me, Jay.”

“I always will,” he told her. 

She bit her lip, uncaring of the rain now steadily dripping down. She’d survived, the rain was a beautiful gift that showed she was still alive. Slowly, she reached out, smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead so she could look into his burning green eyes. 

“You’re a bad idea, but I can’t remember that right now,” she whispered, drawing closer until the gap was sealed with a kiss. 

July 9–Marinette’s 23rd birthday

Washington, D.C.,Hall of Justice

“Happy birthday!”

Marinette jumped a little, surprised by the several members of JLD and JL lying in wait for her in the Hall of Justice’s kitchen. 

“I didn’t know you remembered when my birthday was! That’s so nice of you, thank you!”

Timothy Hunter pushed someone forward so she could see them. “It’s all thanks to your friend over here, he made us all collaborate on this.”

Jason smiled down at her bashfully, a homemade cake in his hands. “Happy birthday, Pix.”

The group surrounded her, singing the birthday song and setting off colourful sparks to go alongside the fizzing sparklers. She blew out the candles with one blow, laughing happily at her friends’ antics.

It was getting late when Marinette finally had time to be alone with Jason. They ducked into the hallway, leaving the noise and merriment of the kitchen behind for a moment. “This was really thoughtful, Jay. Thank you for organizing this.”

“It was my pleasure…even if some of your teammates aren’t a pleasure to get in touch with.”

Marinette laughed, leaning against the wall to support her upper body. “I’m truly impressed that you managed to corral so many of them into one room and there haven’t been any murders or major mishaps yet.”

“It’s all worth it for you.”

She glanced up into his eyes. When had he gotten so close? He leaned in slowly, his fingers tangling with hers. Her eyes closed–

“Hey, don’t think that you’re getting out of clean-up duty just ‘cause you’re her favourite,” shouted Timothy from the doorway, breaking the moment like a bubble.

They jumped away, hand to themselves and eyes on the wall, floor, lockers…anywhere else but the other. 

“Yeah, yeah, comin’,” he shouted back. “We’ll talk more later, ‘kay?”

“Sure.”

They never talked more later. Marinette saw him run into Batman, exchanging a quick friendly chat as they passed in the hallway. Batman went on his way to his JL meeting, and Jason headed towards their usual rendezvous spot. 

She could see the happiness on his face and the lightness in his posture, and she knew then that it wouldn’t work. So she slipped into the shadows and left before he saw her. 

The next day, she sent in her vacation notice to the JLD and the day after that, flew to Paris.

~~~

July 14th–Bastillle Day

Paris, Tom & Sabine Boulangerie

The kiss was everything she had dreamed, turning her flame of hope into an inferno, combusting and sending out sparks that danced among the raindrops. He finally pulled away, looking thoroughly discombobulated, but kept her close with his hands on her shoulders. 

“Marinette, why? I thought you left because–”

“I left because I saw you talk to Batman and you were so happy, and I’ve seen how happy you get when you’re telling me about your relationship with him and how it’s improving. He’s suspicious and distrustful of magic users and won’t let them in Gotham, and I won’t make you choose between him or me when you’ve finally gotten yourselves semi-functional!”

She felt him soften at her words, a small smile overtaking his features. “Pixie, I don’t care what B thinks about you and me or just you. If something like this, that he can have no valid argument about, drives him away again, then it’s for the best. Please, Pix, will you date me?”

“Yes!” She kissed him again, too happy to put it into words. She could scarcely believe that her ears hadn’t played a trick on her, the tapering-off rain muddling his words and twisting them into a figment of her wildest dreams. 

He picked her up and carried her in, heading up the stairs so they could dry off. 

A colourful burst of sparks appeared on the skyline, reminding Marinette of her birthday party. “Look, Jay. I love the look of the world after a rainstorm. It makes the fireworks so much more vivid; it’s beautiful.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather look at you. You’re far more captivating than a firework show.”

She blushed, leaning over to peck his cheek. “You’ve got the girl, you don’t need to be such a flatterer.”

“Nay, I must increase the flattery to make sure she stays.” He put her down, pulling her towel off the rack to absorb the rainwater in her hair. “You should probably shower, and then I’ll take a look at those rope burns you got.”

She saluted with a love-addled grin on her face, skipping into her bathroom. He grinned back at her, looking happier than she’d ever seen him before. The fireworks were ending, only a few going off now, but their story was just beginning…and she bet it’d be plenty sparky. 

[mochegato]

Petty Warfare

Part One of the Pretty Petty Series

“Akuma I have no sense of decorum,” Ladybug grumbled as she surveyed the wreckage before her.  It was all quite impressive considering the akuma had only emerged a few minutes ago and had already wreaked more havoc than the last eight akuma combined, but it was easy to do that with a literal sea of lava appearing and disappearing every few seconds.

It was not the look they needed right before their meeting with the Batman to discuss investigative assistance from the Justice League while still keeping them at a distance and allowing the Miraculous team to stay in control.  It was a well-known fact in the hero community, and the general public really, that Batman and his team had a tendency to think they know better and taking over.

“Absolutely no respect for other people's schedules,” Chat nodded in agreement as he stepped up next to her with a twirl of his staff.

Rena hummed as she whirled her flute and got in line.  “It's one thing that's always bothered me about akuma, how rude they are.”

Carapace stepped beside her.  “Well then, let's teach them some manners.”  He looked down and around, for a brief second there was a glimmer of panic in his eyes, but it almost immediately disappeared in favor of a smirk.  He grabbed his shield from its back holster and spun it on one finger before securing it on his forearm.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and shook her head, much to the amusement of the rest of her team.  It was extremely common for her to do one or the other, but both at the same time?  They rarely got her to do that.  “And let's make it quick,” she advised firmly.  “We have a meeting to get to and I for one do not want to let down Wonder Woman.”  She made eye contact with the rest of her team but then rolled her eyes again at their hopeful expressions and twirled her yoyo.

Chat grinned brilliantly, almost bouncing from foot to foot watching the yoyo, but quickly cleared his throat and shook his body before easing into a model perfect pose.  “Or give Batman the idea that we need him to step in more than we want.”

Carapace sucked in a breath.  “Might want to get on that.”

“Oh my god, that's Red Hood!” Rena shrieked, barely able to keep her voice low enough not to echo across the rooftops.  “I need to get a picture of him in the fight for the paper.”  Her excited grin quickly twisted to a contemplative purse.  “I can’t believe they brought Red Hood near Hawk Moth.  That seems like a poor choice.”

“Red who?” Ladybug asked.

Rena pointed to a figure jumping from roof to roof.  “Red Hood,” she enunciated slowly.  “Affiliated with Batman… kind of… he has a bat on his chest so…”

Ladybug followed to where she was pointing, her face scrunching as she watched him.  “But he doesn't have a hood.”

Carapace shrugged.  “You don't have antenna but your called Ladybug.”

Ladybug scoffed and spluttered.  “No, but I have…” she motioned toward her bodysuit. “I'm not called Ladybug and then running around looking like a fox.”  She gestured harshly toward Rena.  “He should be called Red Mask or something.”  She suddenly narrowed her eyes and shot up straight.  “Is that a gun?” she shrieked, not bothering to keep her voice down.

“That’s kind of his thing,” Rena grimaced.

“Not here it isn’t,” Ladybug snapped.  Her yoyo was sailing toward him before Carapace could warn her that she might not want to start a fight with an ally while they were still fighting an akuma, but by that point, she was already gone and it was probably better for everyone involved if he just didn’t say anything.  Except for Red Hood, but he was a big boy.  He could handle himself… probably.

The yoyo hooked over a beam and wrapped around Red Hood’s wrists in the blink of an eye.  He was yanked forward by his wrists, forcing him to drop both his guns over the side of the building and barely keeping himself from following after, as she jumped off the building and swung toward him, using him as her counterweight.  Thankfully, he was heavy enough he barely moved as she swung.  She landed gracefully and silently, but stalked over to him, stomping the entire way until she was almost chest to chest with him.  “What the hell do you think you are doing?” she demanded.

He yanked his arms back and looked her up and down, the surprised look from seconds before replaced with a mask of indifference, eyes calculating and raised eyebrow unimpressed.  “It's called saving the day sweetheart.  Someone had to do it.”

“Oh shit,” Chat grumbled under his breath.  He searched around for the rest of Red Hood’s team.  Surely one of them could help deescalate the situation.  He could calm Marinette down, but not if Red Hood was actively taunting her.  But when he turned back to intervene, his eyes caught on Red Hood’s hands and he had to fight to stop from chuckling.

He was trying to be discreet.  He was trying to be sneaky.  He thought he could trick them.  He really had no idea who he was dealing with.  He could try as hard as he wanted, as long as he wanted, but he wasn’t going to get out of that line.  He was stuck there for as long as Marinette wanted him there.  Chat would know, from personal experience.  If Red Hood had done any research before coming to their territory, he would have known that.

“It's called inflicting major trauma,” she hissed, “which is a bad thing when dealing with a villain who preys on negative emotions.  I fear that's something most anyone could figure out.”

“Seems like getting attacked by an akuma might do exactly that.  So stopping the akuma would prevent it.  I fear that’s something even someone like you could figure out,” he growled back.

“Someone like me has figured out how to mitigate damage as much as possible from years of experience.  Someone like me has learned unnecessary violence will only make everything worse.”  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to recenter herself, when she reopened her eyes, they retained the same blazing frustration, but her voice was steady and calm, disturbingly so for anyone who knew her.  “You can’t shoot them.  That is not how we deal with akuma.”

“That’s how I deal with bad guys, kid,” he snarled back.  He took a step forward expecting her to step back, but she stood her ground meaning they were now physically touching chests and he had to lean back slightly to look down and meet her gaze.  “This here is the real world and in the real world, you have to get a little dirty,” he lectured, not bothering to keep his condescension from his voice.  “You can’t just sing a little song to make the bad guys turn good.  Maybe that’s why you haven’t been able to defeat your villain.”

“That is literally how we stopped one akuma, you pretentious, cretinous brute.  Violence doesn’t solve everything.”  She leaned forward, filling in the space he had created and poking her finger against his armored chest.  “In fact, responding with violence has made a lot of our situations worse.  And I’ll tell you one more thing someone like me knows, that even if they don’t look like one, it is wholly, unmitigatedly wrong to shoot a kid even if he doesn’t look like one at the moment.”

She walked away a few steps, missing the way his entire body tensed at her words.  When she turned back to him, she had a cocky smirk on her face, arms crossed, and hip cocked.  “We fight smarter, not harder.  I would say you should try it, but smarter doesn’t appear to be your strong suit.”

Red Hood stepped forward but before he could retort, another figure landed just next to him.  “Oh good, you met the local heroes,” Nightwing cheered, his voice clearly artificially bright.

“I really need you guys to stay out of our way,” Ladybug stated, her voice commanding, clearly intended for all of the bats, but her eyes not straying from Red Hood.

“Yep, he met them,” Red Robin grimaced.  He took a breath and turned to Ladybug and the rest of the team with a calm, confident expression.  “We don’t intend to get in your way.  We will assist if you need, but we are here for the meeting.  We can just treat this like research.”

Ladybug forced out a breath then another before turning to Red Robin and Nightwing.  Her demeanor completely changing from confrontational to commanding.  “Look, you guys clearly didn’t bother to do your research before coming, so here’s the crash course…”

“You seem like you’d be familiar with crashing,” Red Hood muttered loudly enough for everyone on the roof to hear.

Red Robin glared at him.  This could be a great collaboration, helping not only the Miraculous team but the Justice League as well.  He needed to make clear they were not supporting Red Hood in this.  “Didn’t you crash into a billboard a few weeks ago?”

“I was thrown into one.  There’s a difference,” Red Hood hissed, stepping up to Red Robin who danced just out of his reach along the edge of the roof.

“Focus, children,” Nightwing thundered.  He waited a few seconds, staring down Red Hood and Red Robin before turning to Ladybug and motioning for her to continue.

Instead, Chat stepped in.  “Okay real quick, Hawk Moth uses magic to take over people and make them do things they would likely never choose to do otherwise.  They are given magic powers and the powers vary by person.  The magic is anchored in an item.  Break that item, free the person.”

“Also important,” Ladybug cut in, “the people corrupted can be anyone.  They can be completely innocent people.  They could be children,” she added pointedly.  “And they remember everything.  They remember what they did and what was done to them.”  She met Red Hood’s eyes fiercely.  “Do not give our children, or any of our citizens, any more trauma than they already have.”

Red Robin waited impatiently, his eyes volleyed back and forth between them a few times before he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.  “Is the object always prominent?”

“No,” Rena answered when Ladybug still hadn’t broken her glare.  Plus, it was Red Robin!  She was getting to talk with Red Robin!  “Sometimes it's hidden.”

He quirked his head and let his gaze move past her toward the akuma that had now come out into the open.  “How do you know what it is.”

Ladybug finally tore her glare from Red Hood to redirect it toward the akuma.  “We figure it out,” she answered, almost absentmindedly, her focus now on the akuma as her eyes darted to every part of it.

“We deduce it based on the cause of the possession and context clues,” Chat added.

Ladybug turned back at the loud scoff clearly coming from Red Hood’s direction.  “For example,” she snapped, stepping up to him again, “in this case we know it started from a game of The Floor is Lava, the handle of the drawer he was holding onto broke, so…”  She paused and whipped around, eyes narrowed at the Akuma in the distance for just a moment before looking around, eyes tracing her yoyo, then the line to Red Hood, to Carapace to just past him to the edge of the building, then to Chat, and back to the akuma.   “Carapace," she stated.  Her words were heavily weighted like it there was an entire conversation in that one word.

And clearly there was, because Carapace instantly stood at attention and followed the path her eyes had followed seconds before, nodding in understanding.  “On it,” he reported as he stepped into position at the edge of the building.

“Rena, a bit of cover, if you will.”  Rena nodded and pulled her flute up to her lips, ready to play when the time was right.  “Get ready Chat.”  Her words carried the same weight, communicating everything with her tone and body language.

Chat followed her gaze and narrowed his eyes at an area of the akuma’s chest that was protruding strangely.  “Always m'lady,” he answered with a determined nod.

Nightwing stepped forward.  “Um, do you want to share for the rest of us?  We speak to each other with our eyes not our tone so we’re a bit lost.”

Ladybug ignored him and stepped up to Red Hood with a broad, artificial smile.  “Just want to say thank you so much for your service,” she purred.

Red Hood bobbed his head back and tried to take a step away, he was familiar with crazy, Harley had trained them all pretty well, and he would prefer to have some kind of point of reference to know if it was the fun crazy or someone’s going to die crazy.  Unfortunately for him, he was already standing on the edge of the roof and had no place to go.  “Wha...”

Before he could finish snapping at her, she kicked him hard in the chest.  He tried to flail his arms, but his wrists were still bound together.  Not only could he not flail, he couldn’t try to scramble at the side of the building to slow his descent.  Nightwing jumped after him, but before he could reach him, a green shield appeared beneath him, not slowing his descent, but clearly there to keep him from hitting the lava.

Red Robin watched them long enough to make sure they would be okay before turning back to watch the Miraculous team just in time to see Ladybug, and therefore Chat, who was riding on her shoulders, get launched by the input force from her yoyo line, like taut line snapping and recoiling when the counterweight disappeared.  Just as they reached the apex, there were a few flute notes played and Chat disappeared, but within seconds, ‘Cataclysm’ echoed over and between the buildings and Ladybug was moving smoothly and quickly over the rooftops toward the akuma.

Her yoyo line retracted with a speed that defied physics and was released again.  He was only able to track it due to the glowing light it emitted before she reeled it back in.  Rena whispered something he couldn’t understand before stepping up next to him with a huge grin and looking over the side.  “It’s over now, you can come back up.”

Carapace patted Red Robin on the shoulder.  “That was fun.  We should do that again.  I enjoyed working with you.”

Red Robin peeked over the side of the building to verify Nightwing was giving Red Hood a ride back up with the grappling hook before returning his attention to Carapace with a smirk.  “I agree.  Best collaboration we’ve had in a while.”

Rena turned her attention to Red Robin with an excited grin.  ‘Hey, so,” she continued speaking uninterrupted even as a swarm of ladybugs flew all around them removing the lava, repairing the buildings, returning Nightwing and Red Hood to the roof, and Red Hood’s guns to his holsters.  She motioned toward Nightwing without breaking eye contact with Red Robin.  “He mentioned you guys communicate through looks.  How do you do that when you all have the film over your eyes?”

“Experience,” a gruff voice answered from behind her.

Rena spun around and let out a squeal as Batman stepped out of the shadows to announce his presence.  “That was so cool!”

“That’s why he does it,” Nightwing joked.

“Who does what?” Chat asked as he landed next to Red Robin just seconds before Ladybug.

“Batman,” she acknowledged instantly, her eyes finding him before she’d landed.  Chat, however, screamed and jumped away in surprise, almost ending up in Red Robin’s arms.  She continued without missing a beat.  “It is nice to…”

Before she could continue, Red Hood barreled over to her, not stopping until he was towering over her, his massive body, seemingly even larger due to his armor, looming over her.  “You could have killed me!” he thundered in a dark, cold voice.

Instead of being intimidated as he was used to, she crossed her arms over her chest with an unimpressed scoff.  “I kicked you in the chest plate.”

“You didn’t know,” he accused.

“I felt it earlier.  I knew you would be fine,” she snarled back but then she straightened up and opened her eyes wide in a perfect imitation of the innocence she usually embodied.  “And you were so concerned with helping save the day I just knew you would want to help.”  She almost kept the façade up except for a slight quirk of her lip when Chat snickered.

"Oh, you're starting a war you aren't prepared for, little girl," he growled.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned back like she was contemplating him.  “I just defeated a lava monster.  I think I’ll be just fine with little old you.  And just because you’re bigger, it doesn’t mean you’re older, tougher, or smarter.  It just means you have more capacity for bullshit.”

“Being smaller doesn’t mean you have less bullshit; it just means it’s more concentrated,” he hissed back.

Ladybug opened her mouth to respond but Chat cut in.  “While I think there’s room for both to be true, this is not what is important right now.”

“Hood, we have more important things to discuss,” Batman barked.  “Ladybug, I believe we had some things to discuss.”

Ladybug turned to Batman with a forced smile.  “Sorry, I was distracted.”

“Don’t worry about it.  He can be very distracting,” Red Robin assured her.

“The incompetent ones usually are,” she snipped back without moving her eyes from Batman.

Red Hood took a menacing step forward, but Nightwing put his arm out in front of his chest and silently pushed him back.  “Let’s go somewhere a bit less exposed,” Batman suggested pointedly.

Ladybug nodded and motioned to a rooftop nearby.  “There’s a bit more room over there and Rena can provide cover and Carapace can provide a sound barrier.”

“Perfect,” Batman nodded and grappled after her.

Nightwing kept his hold on Red Hood until she had already landed on the rooftop, far out of his reach.  “You’re going to have to figure out how to work with her,” he warned Red Hood.  “If she’s as good as I think she is, we’re going to be working with her a lot.”

“She threw me off of a building!” Hood hissed at him.

“No,” Nightwing smirked, “she kicked you off a building.  And who hasn't?”

“Me.  I haven't,” Carapace popped up next to them.  “Can I?”

Hood turned to him slowly, pointedly.  Even through the mask, it was clear he was glaring.  “No.”

Carapace took a step back, hands held up.  “Ooookay,” he shrugged.  “Little disappointed, dude, not going to lie.  You guys good to get over on your own or need help?”

Nightwing covered his mouth with his hand to hide his snicker.  “No, we’re good.  Be right there.”

“Rightio.”  He saluted them and was gone.

“We won’t have to work with her if I take her out,” Hood observed, a bit too darkly to be joking.

“You can't kill her.  Wonder woman loves her.  Thinks of her like a little sister because of the whole her mom was Ladybug thing,” he pointed out with a smirk.  “You’re going to have to work with her.

“But I’m pretty positive she's evil,” he huffed.  He shot out his grappling hook to swing over to the meeting.

“Honestly, kinda surprised that doesn't make you like her more,” Nightwing chuckled.  He suddenly straightened up, face bright with excitement.  “Or!  Focus on taking her out… on a date!”  His laughter returned full force, echoing over the rooftops, at the glare he could feel Jason sending him from under his mask as he swung away.  “This is going to be fun,” he giggled to himself before grappling to join the others.

[mochegato]

Too Close for Comfort

The day was already long and it was only lunchtime, but this time of year, the lead up to gala season, always was.  And she had just gone and added more stress to herself by accepting a new client just this morning.  The bright side was she was extremely inspired and already had an approved design.  She knew exactly what she wanted to do and could definitely get the foundation of the dress completed by that evening if she focused, possibly even more.

However, before she committed herself to an evening consumed in inspiration and fabric, she needed just a few stress-free moments in her favorite café to decompress and drink a nice café americano.  She let out a happy sigh as she crossed the threshold of the café.  Nothing bad could happen here.

“Marinette!”

She spoke too soon.  Her face scrunched in annoyance at the man who had just almost jumped at her as soon as she walked through the door.  “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, his dark hair falling over his blue eyes, “you had me blocked everywhere else, so my only option was to see you in person.  I know you like this place so I just… worked from here all day… the past few days until you came in.  And here you are.”

“Most people would take that as a hint,” she snipped and walked past him to take her place in the, thankfully, short line.

“They might,” he acknowledged as he plodded next to her, completely undeterred, and shot her a charming smile, “but I'm not most people, am I?”

“Fortunately, no,” she agreed snidely putting far more meaning into the tone than the words would normally convey.

The tone must have hit their mark because he noticeably tensed then plastered on a hopeful smile.  “Can we maybe go to your apartment to talk?”

His hopeful smile faded at the unimpressed look on her face.  “No.”  She turned to the counter and finally ordered her café americano despite her hope of a relaxing few moments drinking it was looking less and less likely.

“I really would prefer to have this conversation somewhere more private,” he implored.  He moved in front of her so she had a clear view of his pleading, puppy eyes.

“I wouldn’t,” she shrugged as she moved to the side to wait for her coffee.

“Okay, how about we sit outside, and I can talk while you wait?  No pressure?”  This time there was no masking the pleading in his voice.

She sighed heavily and nodded in agreement, motioning toward an open table on the patio with a bit of distance from the other patrons.  “Marinette…”  The word was weighed down with anguish and tears started spilling out.  “Mari, I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what came over me.  It was all a mistake.  I never should have… I…”  He kept starting and stopping as his mind attempted to get everything he was thinking out at the same time.

“I’ve spent the last… since you left regretting how things ended, the things I did that contributed to it,” he ignored the scoff she let out and pushed through.  “I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t value you.  I do.  I do so much.  You were, are, amazing.  You were everything and I never showed you the kind of attention you deserved.  I should have.  I should have showed you every day how amazing you are, how much better you make my life…”  His next words got lost in the tears and quiet sobs he was letting out.

When her name was called after just a few seconds of the blubbering, she almost exclaimed out loud in relief.  The barista had definitely earned themselves a hefty tip.  When she got back to the table, he was still crying.  It was highly doubtful he had even noticed she had left. But as he was mid-sob when she returned, it didn’t feel quite right to just walk out.  But then again, it didn’t feel quite right to sit back down so instead, she leaned against the wall and pulled out her phone to scroll through her emails and shoot off a few texts.

It took a few moments for him to pull himself together and honestly, she wasn’t sure if they were real tears or another manipulation.  But ultimately, it didn’t matter because she didn’t care.  “What’s going on?” she asked in clearly false sympathy.  “Did your new girl kick you out after just a few months?”

He shot her a surly look and dropped his eyes.  “It’s been eight months.”

“It has?” she asked, this time with no falsehood in her voice, but rather the first sign of genuine curiosity.  She quickly pulled up the calendar app on her phone to verify his statement.  “Huh.  I didn’t realize.”  She tucked her phone into her back pocket and took a drink of her coffee with a soft smile.  “Time has really been speeding by so quickly.  I have not been paying attention to the calendar.”

He moved quickly over to her, dropping to his knees in front of her. “Baby…” he started, his eyes back to pleading as a further accentuation of his physical position.

Her expression instantly soured and her eyes steeled as she pushed herself away from him like his touch was liquifying her skin.  “Mark!  I am so not your b…”

Before she could finish the sentence, or rather her monologue of scathing observations of him and their relationship, ending any hope he might have that they could ever get back together, a single shot rang out and the wall just above his head exploded, showering both of them in red dust, followed only moments later by Red Hood dropping down in front of them.  "Sorry. Thought I saw something.  My aim must be off," he offered without a tinge of regret.  His eyes never left the man as he holstered his gun.

Marinette raised an eyebrow and pointedly brushed the dust and rubble off her clothes, not particularly inclined to give him any kind of reaction.  Mark, however, did not feel the same.  “What the hell!  Do you always shoot at the good guys?”

“I do have a history of it,” Red Hood acknowledged.  He stalked closer to them until he was looming over him.  “But I don’t see any good guys around here.  Do you?”

“I do,” Marinette perked up.  Mark shot Red Hood a smug smirk.  “Now,” she added pointedly with a flirty smile to Red Hood.

The man let out an aggravated growl.  “And I wasn’t?  I found you so we could have a second chance.  I told you how much I loved you.  I protected you.”

“Protected me?”  Marinette scoffed.  “From what?  Happiness?  Self-confidence?  Love?  You didn’t quite destroy me the first time, so you want another chance to finish the job?  No, you used me and I’m not willing or interested in giving you a second run at it.  I’ve moved on.  I’m happy.  You should work on yourself so you can find happiness in the future, Mark.  Because the way you’re going, you won’t be able to be truly happy no matter what you do.”

“Oh, I was plenty happy as soon as I dropped you,” he growled, pushing into her space to remind her how small she was compared to him.  “In fact…” he froze when Red Hood pulled out his gun again.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Mark, you haven’t been truly happy in at least a decade.  That has nothing to do with me.  I hope you figure out what it is you need and can get it, but I won’t be there to see it.  Now I’m going to leave and enjoy this drink somewhere else and I’m going to trust Red Hood to keep you from following me and not injure you as soon as I leave.”  She leveled a pointed look at Red Hood and waited until he gave a grudging nod before leaving.

><><><><><><><>< 

Marinette quirked her head as she pinned a swath of fabric, analyzing the way it laid against the mannequin and the light hit it with a frown.  It wasn’t quite laying right, but she knew it could.  It was the perfect fabric for it.  She just needed to… her concentration instantly snapped as she felt arms wrap around her from behind.  “Well, hello,” she grinned as she melted into his embrace.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he drawled softly against her hair.

“You’re in a good mood,” she purred.  “Have anything to do with your patrol?”

He hummed in agreement and moved his lips lower.  “Came close to exterminating a bit of street vermin.”

Marinette snickered and let him nuzzle into her neck, stretching her neck to give him more access.  “You didn’t hurt him after I left, did you?”

“Not physically.”  She could hear his shrug in his voice more than see it.

“You had nothing to worry about with him, you know,” she chided without heat and backing it up by winding her hand into his hair.

“Oh, I do,” he acknowledged readily, not an ounce of doubt in his voice.

“He was kind of useful, you know.  He make me realize something,” she managed to say breathily.

He stopped peppering her neck with kisses and grumbled playfully.  “Oh?” he prompted as he fell back onto the couch, elegantly falling to the small area that was clear of fabric or other supplies and pulled her with him, so she landed squarely in his lap.  “That pathetic excuse of a manchild make you realize what an amazingly brave and strong catch you’ve made?”

She scoffed as she wiggled around until she found a more comfortable position, very much enjoying the muffled, discomforted groans Jason was letting out.  “No.  It’s our six-month anniversary on Thursday.”

He planted his hands firmly on her hips to stop her moving and took several heavy breaths before he managed a smirk.  “Six-month anniversary of our first not a date because ‘I’m not ready to trust anyone yet?’” he mocked playfully.

“No,” she grumbled, a hint of a smile on her lips as she purposefully, slowly twisted to face him.  “Six-month anniversary of the first time I let you kiss me.”

“Excuse me?” he gaped.  “Who kissed who?”

“I let you kiss me,” she repeated and nodded determinedly.

He leaned back to examine her, eyes narrowed, and clicked his tongue.  “Uh huh.  Let me kiss you back when you jumped me.”

Her jaw dropped.  “I did not jump you!” she gasped and added a smack to his chest.

He trapped her arm against his chest and shot her a devilish smirk.  “Just saying how I remember it happening.”

She scoffed and tried to free her arm, but he held it fast.  “That’s how you wish it happened.”

“That’s how I know it happened,” he smirked.  “You were all ‘oh no, I don’t trust anyone, men are all evil,’” he raised his voice in a comical imitation of her voice.  “And then bam,” he pulled her against himself and secured her there with an arm around her waist.  “One date with me and you were all ‘love is real’” he squealed.

She puckered her lips hard to keep them from quirking up, quite unsuccessfully and turned her face away from him.  “I was all ‘someone needs to take the hit for all humanity and get this menace off the market.’”  She sighed dramatically as she leaned back far enough if he didn’t have a solid grip on her hips, she would have fallen.  “I’ve always been too much of a martyr for my own good.”

He snorted and pulled her against him again as he stood smoothly taking her with him.  “I’ll show you something for your own good,” he growled and walked toward their bedroom amongst her giggles.

[mochegato]

How to Pass a Background Check with Flying Colors

“You remember the rules, right?” Alya asked for what had to be the fifth time that night.  She set down the lip gloss she was supposed to be applying for Marinette to level a pointed look at her.

Marinette rolled her eyes and grabbed the lip gloss to apply herself.  She was not going to let any doubts get to her.  She was far too excited about this date.  She hadn’t been this excited about a date since… well, honestly, she couldn’t remember when.  But Jason was absolutely amazing.  He was everything she never even let herself dream about because it was too unlikely.

When he’d approached her in the café to ask her about her book while she waited for her coffee, she almost tripped.  And she hadn’t even been moving.  He was funny, charming, smart, quick witted, spoke fluent French, and it didn’t hurt that he was ruggedly handsome, looking every bit the bad boy his personality didn’t seem to be.

They’d spoken for well over an hour that first day and it would have been longer if Juleka hadn’t interrupted to remind her they were supposed to be meeting for her dress fitting.  Thankfully, he was far more confident than her because while she was too scared to ask him for his number, he had no such compunctions, asking for her number and a date.

So, yeah, she was excited for this date.  But she wasn’t stupid.  They barely knew each other.  She didn’t even know his last name, let alone what he was capable of.  And she could protect herself and Tikki could assist, but Jason was easily three times as big as her.  His thighs were beautifully the size of her head.  If he wanted to hurt her, he might only get one hit in, but with his chest and biceps as beautifully sculpted and bulging as they were, it would only take one hit to do serious damage.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give Alya attitude for being even more paranoid than she was.  “Yes, maman,” she snarked.

Alya grabbed the lip gloss back aggressively and tossed it in Marinette’s purse.  “Hey!  Check the attitude.  You know I just do it because I love you.”  She gave Marinette a pointed look but was only able to hold it for a few moments before both of them broke into giggles and playful shoves that didn’t stop until the buzzer sounded.

Their heads whipped toward the door and Marinette let out an excited squeal while Alya let out a long breath to psych herself up.  “Okay, game time.  Let’s meet Prince Charming,” she cheered and passed Marinette’s purse to her.

Marinette grinned at her and barely grabbed the bag before she rushed out the door.  “Bonne soirée, Jason!”  She lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

He took a moment to respond, just staring at her dazedly for a few seconds.  “Bonne soirée, Marinette.  You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.  You look amazing too.”  She grinned brightly up at him, getting lost momentarily in his eyes until Alya cleared her throat behind her.  “Oh, right.  Sorry.  Jason, this is my friend Alya.  Alya, this is Jason.”

Jason stepped forward, hand extended.  “Nice to meet you, Alya.”

She shook his hand with a polite smile.  “Nice to meet you too.”  She looked quickly between the two before widening her smile.  “You two look so cute!” Alya cooed loudly.  “Can I get a picture of you by the motorcycle?”  She motioned toward the bike, herding them into position near the back of the bike.

Jason raised an eyebrow and glanced around them quickly as he took a step towards the bike, noting the way the light darkened the closer they got to the light.  He took a few more steps before freezing suddenly and turning around.  “Oh!  This is the background or Proof of Life pic,” he exclaimed loudly.  “Oh, got it.”

Marinette and Alya looked at each other anxiously, but he nodded excitedly like he was proud of himself for putting the pieces together and started reaching into his pocket.  “Yeah, why don't you go ahead and take a picture of my license plate.  Here's my ID.  Go ahead and take a picture of that.”  He handed the ID over to Alya, who took it tentatively, but did exactly as he suggested and handed it back to him, sending furtive, confused glances over to Marinette the entire time.

“But, you know, those records can all be faked pretty easily,” he noted casually while he tucked his ID back into his wallet.  “They’re pretty easy to manipulate.  It’s better to look up my name.  It’s harder to fake a bunch of news articles.”

Marinette blinked at him.  He wasn’t wrong, but she hadn’t been expecting him to know that.  Most people didn’t.  But that wasn’t the part that concerned her the most.  “Bunch of news articles?”

He shrugged and let out a helpless noise, almost too nonchalantly.  “When you do the background check you're probably going to find out have a charge for manslaughter.”

Alya chuckled at his joke but was already looking up his full name, now that she finally had it, before he finished his sentence.  Her fingers were moving like lightning as she pulled up any and all mentions of ‘Jason Todd’ in the French or American news (just to start, she would widen her search later if she didn’t find anything there), her paper’s backlogs, and police records.

Marinette gave him an exasperated look.  He clearly didn’t know who he was dealing with.  He was playing with fire.  “Don’t say things like that to her, it’ll just set her o…”

A screech interrupted her sentence and Marinette and Jason whipped around to look at her; Marinette with an expression of shock and Jason one of resignation.  “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son?” she shrieked.

“You are?” Marinette asked, turning to Jason, eyes wide in surprise.  In all their conversations, he had never mentioned his family, almost like he was intentionally avoiding the subject.  She guessed that must be why.

“What is it with you and rich men’s sons?” she snickered without looking up from her phone.

“Oh?” Jason asked, fixing her with a teasing gaze.

“What the… You were serious!” Alya screeched before Marinette could respond.

Marinette turned back to her again, trying to construct what was going on through eye contact with Alya, but her eyes were trained incredulously on Jason.  “What?” Marinette asked.  Alya angled the phone toward her without taking her eyes off Jason.

Marinette only read the headline and the first few sentences before turning her uncertain, hurt gaze to Jason.  He held his hands up.  “In my defense, that guy had been and currently was trafficking little kids into the sex trade.  He had seven little girls in his warehouse when I stopped him.”

Alya and Marinette slowly looked back down to Alya’s phone and scrolled further down on the article.  “Yeah.  Yep.  That's what it says,” Alya nodded, still reeling from the revelation.

“And he attacked me.  I tried to deescalate.  The charges were dropped. Thank you.  And made sure the girls didn’t see anything,” he insisted earnestly.

Alya scrolled down further.  “Uh huh.  Okay.  Yeah.  Says that too.”

Marinette blinked a few times at the article before she was able to find her words.  “You warned us about the manslaughter but were hoping we wouldn’t find out about the Bruce Wayne thing?”

He scoffed and leaned back on the seat of the motorcycle; legs stretched languidly in front of him.  “I’m not embarrassed about the manslaughter charge.”  He paused and bobbed his head to the side in consideration.  “Well, no, I’m a bit embarrassed I got caught, but I stand behind what I did.  Being associated with Bruce though…” he shuddered violently.  “If there was one thing I could scrub from my record…”

Alya looked over to Marinette, having a silent conversation with her.  Marinette looked between her and Jason a few times then shot her a determined nod and sent Jason a brilliant smile.  “Right, well, we're going to be late if we don't go and I was really excited to try this restaurant.  See you later Al,” she chirped and slung her leg over the seat behind Jason who returned her smile, just as brightly and handed her a helmet.

Alya nodded and waved her off.  “Have a good time!  Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”  She paused for a moment to consider her words before continuing louder.  “Actually, do far less than I would do.  And Jason?”  She waited until he looked at her before continuing, pointing a warning finger at him.  “If you feel the need to do something like that again, give me a call.  I'm a reporter.  I can use the story.  Have fun kids!”

The roar from the engine of Jason’s motorcycle filled the street, only drowned out by the delighted laughter from the passengers.

[mochegato]

Devil of the Narrows

Marinette burst through the door, pulling a bubbling Adrien behind her.  “So smart.  So sexy.  That dress…” he paused to picture it and got lost for a few seconds.  “My heart can’t handle it.”

“Go on,” Marinette purred, “tell me more.”

Out of the fog filled abyss, a deep voice floated toward them.  “I would very much appreciate if you didn’t.”

Marinette let out a small scream and jumped away from the ledge just a bit further than Adrien who jumped then immediately lowered into a defensive position and glared at the edge, prepared for whatever came over the side.  When nothing happened for a few long seconds, they looked at each other apprehensively and back to the edge, not wanting to take their eyes off the threat for too long.

Finally, Adrien bobbed his head toward the door back to the building and safety, but Marinette scrunched her nose and removed her shoe, wielding it like a bat as she inched toward the edge of the building.  Adrien groaned quietly, dropping his head back in annoyance, but followed her grudgingly.  If she was going to try to threaten someone with a shoe, the least she could do was have a stiletto on, at the very least a platform shoe, something with a bit of weight or a sharp heel, not a flat.

When they got to the ledge, he held up three fingers, slowly lowering them one at a time until they were all dropped and they poked their heads over the edge, freezing at the sight.  Whatever they were expecting to see on the other side of the ledge, a man, clearly one of the vigilantes, sitting back against a rather macabre looking gargoyle and eating a burger was not it.

Alya would never forgive Marinette for not knowing which of the vigilantes it was.  He was obviously one of the bats, because there was a rather large red bat splayed across his broad, armored chest.  She just couldn’t tell which one it was. There were like twenty of them.  It was hard to keep track.

What she could tell was he was easily as large as her papa, which meant he would absolutely tower over her if he stood and could knock her out with one punch if he decided to get violent.  He was probably an amazing vigilante.  She couldn’t imagine anyone seeing him and wanting to continue whatever felonious activity they were committing rather than running away as quickly and cowardly as possible.

“What the f…” Adrien muttered.

“Who are you?  What are you doing up here?” Marinette called out before she could stop herself.

“How did you get up here?” Adrien added, more rhetorically than actually expecting an answer.

He gave them a flat look and held up a grappling gun in one hand and his burger in the other.  “Saving the day makes you hungry.”  He motioned toward her with his burger.  “Is that a shoe?  What were you planning on doing?  Cobbling me to death?”

Marinette slowly turned to her arm, seemingly as surprised as them to see it still upraised and ready to throw.  She looked away as she lowered her arm, refusing to make eye contact with anyone as she lowered it and put it back on her foot.  “I used what I had.  It’s not like we were expecting to have to defend ourselves while on top of a skyscraper,” she grumbled.  “We were expecting it to be creepy but deserted like it usually is.  We were not expecting any cryptids skulking on top of buildings.”

He ran his tongue over his canine and clicked it as he studied her.  “Didn't mean to disturb your make out session.  But please... do not ignore me and continue.  In fact, feel free to go somewhere else for that.  I’d prefer you not besmirch my favorite spot and desecrate my friend to your depraved behavior.”

“We were not coming up to make out!” Marinette exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

“Besmirch?” Adrien asked.

The man gave her an exceptionally unimpressed look and kept eye contact as he took another bite.  “We weren't!” she insisted in utter affront.  “We were coming up to discuss the best approach to him asking out his crush, if you must know.”

He raised an eyebrow and looked between the two of them.  “I did not.”

"Interesting that you thought he did," Adrien noted, his mouth quirked up in an amused smirk.

Marinette gave him a wide-eyed, pointed look.  “Shut.  Up,” she hissed.

“But, just do it.”  The vigilante leaned forward, bringing his face into a sliver of light cast by the roof lights.  “You’re probably overthinking it.  It doesn’t have to be a grand gesture or choreographed.  The result is almost definitely going to be the same whether you do something over the top or simple and simple is almost always from the heart, which is usually appreciated.”

“Yes!” Marinette exclaimed.  She motioned toward the vigilante.  “See?  I tol…”  She turned back to him instantly, trying to make sure she was seeing what she thought she saw.  “Are you… are you wearing a scarf as a mask?”

He leaned back into the shadows.  “…Yeah.  Gotta protect the identity, sweetheart.”

She continued to stare at him incredulously for a few more moments.  “Who are you supposed to be?  Daredevil?”

He scrunched his nose and bobbed back in surprise.  “Who?”

Adrien leaned over the ledge and quirked his head to the side to check him out from a better angle.  “Charlie Cox was hotter.”

She quirked her head to the side in exact imitation of Adrien to study the vigilante.  After a moment she shook her head and glanced back at Adrien.  “That is objectively false… but very funny.”

The vigilante leaned forward again; face scrunched in annoyance.  “Who the f…”  He jumped up instantly when the skyline was rocked with an explosion.  “Get home,” he ordered firmly as he pulled out his grappling hook.  “And ask them out.  Life is short,” he added just before he jumped into the void.

><><><><><><><><>< 

The aftermath of the explosion kept the entire team busy for the next few days; chasing down leads, tracking henchmen, finally capturing the Penguin, returning him to Arkham again, and keeping a heavy watch on other criminals trying to take advantage of the distraction.  So it was a while before he was able to return to his spot, but as soon as he settled in, full meal in hand, a voice floated over to him.

“Daredevil!  You're back.”

He let out a long sigh and shook his head as though his lips weren’t already quirking up in amusement.  “This is my spot.”

There were a few moments of silence during which he was able to take his first bite before he looked up to meet her arched eyebrow.  “I've been coming up here every night for the past few weeks.  You’ve only been here once. This is not your spot.”

“I've been coming up here since I was 13,” he scoffed, cheeks puffed out from his bites of hotdog.  “This is my spot.”

“That seems like you abandoned it,” she shrugged.  “I found it, nurtured it.  So now it's my spot.”

He narrowed his eyes and pointed his hotdog at her.  “I was on a mission.  And I didn't abandon it.”  He motioned behind himself.  “It was being watched over until I returned.”

She hummed and examined him closely, eyes skimming him over from mask to boot before returning to meet his eyes with an accepting nod.  “Glad it turned out well...I guess.  It was a good thing, right?  Your mission helped not the jerks?”

He snorted a laugh, almost spitting out half his hotdog.  “Yes.  The mission was to stop some very bad guys.”  He leaned toward her with a smirk.  “And we succeeded.”

She smiled back but then let her gaze drift to the skyline, allowing them to sit with each other in silence, only the wind whispering between them for a while before she returned her attention to him.  When he’d finished with his first hotdog, a self-satisfied grin spread across his lips.  “You just going to keep staring at me?  I mean if you do, I understand.”

Instead of scoffing or stuttering like he had expected, she cocked her head to the side.  “I don’t understand,” she stated, motioning toward him.

He looked down at his armor and especially the bat emblem on his chest and nodded in understanding.  “Not everyone understands becoming a vigilante.”

“Oh no, that I understand,” she waved him off like the assumption was ridiculous.  “I mean,” she motioned toward him again, or more specifically, motioned toward his head, “it doesn’t make sense.  It’s contradictory vibes.  You have,” she motioned toward his suit.  “And then you have,” she motioned more pointedly toward his head.

“Like,” she indicated his suit, “high tech,” she indicated his scarf, “low tech.”  She pointed to his suit, “impeccably made,” his scarf, “I think the person was drunk,” his suit, “thoroughly thought out,” his scarf, “I honestly think you might have just grabbed that as you ran past some tourist.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times until he finally huffed out a breath through his nose.  “I have a mask, you know.”

“You do?  Where is it?  Can I see it?” she demanded more than asked.  She was almost jumping in excitement as she looked all around him to try to catch a glimpse of it, only settling when he held it up for her to see.

“But as you can see, it doesn’t allow for things like eating or drinking.”  He looked at her from the side.  “Doesn’t really facilitate conversations either.”

She couldn’t stop the eyeroll she gave him.  “You’d hardly come up here if you wanted conversation.”

“Maybe I came up to converse with you.”  His smile was just on the right side of teasing, infectiously so.

Marinette shook her head with a brilliant grin.  “You said you’ve been coming here for years and a week ago was the only time you’ve seen me.”

“I’m an optimist,” he shrugged.

“You’re certainly something,” she chuckled as she looked away to collect herself.  When she looked back at him, her gaze was curious.  “I know why I come up here.  I work here and the roof is the only place to get away from people.  But why do you come here?  Why this spot, I mean.”

His grin shone even in the dim evening.  “Best gargoyle in the city right here,” he crowed, patting the gargoyle behind him.  “He kept me company many a night when I was a teen.  One of the best conversationalists I’ve ever met.”

She looked at him, amused by how proud he was of his gargoyle friend.  “So you did come up here for a conversation after all.  Should I leave so you two can get to it?”

He snickered and took a bite of his second hotdog.  “He is a marvelous conversation partner and listener,” he acknowledged.  “It might be hard for you to compete.”

“Not to ruin a friendship, but technically, that's a grotesque,” she corrected.  Her eyes were narrowed, but her voice teasing.   His eyes shot to her, lips pinched and brow scrunched in disapproval.  "Gargoyles have waterspouts.  That's where they got their name," she elucidated, adding in a gurgling sound to solidify her point.  "No waterspout means it's a grotesque.  Just a statue meant to look creepy."

He turned to look at the grotesque like it had personally betrayed him before returning attention to her.  “Expert huh?  That what you do?  Architecture?”  His voice was slightly grousey but still polite.

“No,” she acknowledged, “not an architect.”

He harumphed and finished the rest of his second hotdog in one bite.  “Not an expert then.  I’ll keep my faith in my friend.”

“Kind of an expert,” she shrugged as she tried to cover her snort at his boyish pout.  “From Paris so I know a thing or two about gargoyles and grotesques.”

He took a large bite of fries, chewing it noisily while shooting her a heatless glare.  “What do you do then?” he asked when he’d finally swallowed.  “You said you work here, yeah?”

“Graphic design.  I just started at an office on the 40th floor a few months ago,” she answered with a smile.

“Ahh, a tortured artist,” he nodded knowingly.

She gasped dramatically.  “I'm not tortured.”

“Pixie Pop, you chose to live in Gotham,” he pointed out, his voice and look both equally flat.  “You're tortured.”

“You run around in a poorly tied scarf and an attitude,” she groused.  “You're tortured.”

“Never said I wasn't,” he shrugged completely unbothered as he took a long drink of his soda.

They stayed in a comfortable silence for a while, the wind whistling quietly between them until Marinette finally broke the silence.  “You lied.  He’s a terrible conversationalist.  Hasn’t contributed at all.”

His snicker at her comment quickly become a full blown laugh, head thrown back, eyes closed and all making him miss her amused, contented smile at his reaction.  When he finally looked back at her, the portion of his face that was visible was bright.  “With all your criticisms of my mask, I almost expected you to say fashion designer.”

Her smile strained slightly and her eyes slid from his to the horizon.  “Once upon a time, another lifetime ago,” she answered flippantly.

He watched her, wanting desperately to get the story that was hiding there, but held himself back.  He was just going to have to keep visiting her until he felt like they knew each other well enough to ask her.  But until then, he needed a distraction.  “How's it going with blondie?  He man up and ask his crush out?”

All the light returned to her face.  Her lips eased into an excited smile.  “He did!  They're going on a date tonight!  You should have seen it.  He was freaking out after she said yes.  It's adorable.  But he took your advice, well, our advice because I told him the same thing, but he actually listened when you said it, to just ask her out and not overthink it.  Overthinking is my job.  His job is to look cute.  He keeps forgetting that.”

“Does he ever get upset you’re trying to take his job?” he asked before his brain caught up with his mouth.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, now wishing he still had one of his hotdogs he could shove in his mouth.

She scrunched her nose and shook her head.  “I couldn’t do his job, any of the jobs he’s done.  I love kids but I don’t think I could handle an entire classroom of them, and I definitely wouldn’t have been a good model.”

“Ohhh.  He was actually a…” he stopped mid-word and his hand flew to his ear.  “Copy.  I’ll get on it.  I’m only a few blocks away.”  He stood and shot her a two-finger salute, “Have a good night, Pixie Pop.”

She nodded.  “Be safe, Daredevil.”

He glared back at her over his shoulder, lips pursed into a thin line and maintained eye contact as he put his full face mask on with a harumph.  “You too, Pixie Pop.”

><><><><><><><><>< 

It didn’t take her long to do the exact opposite.  Less than two hours, in fact.  But it wasn’t her fault.  It was just Gotham.  It was bound to happen eventually.  And for Marinette, the inevitable happened on her walk home from work that night.

And, okay, maybe it was her fault a little bit, because she should have known better than to walk home so late at night, especially all alone.  But the time with Red Hood had pushed back her work until she had to stay late to get to where she needed to be on the project.  But in her defense, most muggers could see she didn’t have any money and left her alone.  This one clearly wasn’t as bright as the others.

“We’re going to do this quick and easy, right, darling,” the man jeered.  His knife glinted in the streetlight.

It wasn’t nearly as scary as he thought it was and she didn’t have any money on her anyway, so this was really a wasted effort on all sides.  “It would have been quicker if you hadn’t started,” she droned.  “Do I look like I have money?”

Her skin crawled at the leering, lingering looks he was giving her.  “I can take it out in other ways.”

She wrinkled her nose and stepped back.  “Ew.  No.”

“It wasn’t a question.”  There was a menacing curve to his lips as he slowly stalked toward her.

“And yet you got your answer,” a deep, chilling voice crept from the shadows.

The man whipped around; knife poised to attack right up until he saw who stepped out.  As soon as the light hit Red Hood’s mask, the mugger held his hands up and backed away slowly.  “Hey man, nothing happened.  No need to…”

He tried to dart away mid-word but ended up running head first into Nightwing’s chest.  “There’s definitely a need to,” Nightwing responded smugly.  He grabbed the mugger by the jacket and tied him up quickly, stepping purposefully between Red Hood and the mugger.  “I’ll take him in,” he said pointedly, mistaking Hood’s anger for his general hatred toward anyone who preyed on women rather than fury over the mugger having threatened this particular woman.

“You make sure the civilian gets home safe.”  He didn’t bother to wait for Hood’s acknowledgement before he nodded toward Marinette and shoved the mugger toward the other end of the street.  “Have a good night, ma’am.”

“Thank you!” she called after him, but she kept her eyes on Red Hood as she spoke.  She continued to watch him as he examined her intently, his eyes running over her, lifting her arms to verify she wasn’t hiding anything.  “I’m okay,” she promised quietly.

After a few more moments of examination, he finally released her arms and motioned for her to lead, only moving when she started walking.  She snuck a peek at him from the corner of her eye until she couldn’t take the silence anymore.  It wasn’t a comfortable silence.  He was walking far too stiffly.  “Thank you, Daredevil.”

She could hear him let out a long, tortured breath before shaking his head.  But her comment had the desired effect.  His whole body relaxed and eased into a lighter gait.  “Not daredevil.”  He might have been trying for stern but didn’t make it.

“Debatable,” she shrugged, shooting him an easy smile.

He stopped walking to turn towards her and cross his arms over his chest, almost obscuring his red bat.  “It is not.  And you can thank me by calling me by my name.”

“Oh, please don’t give me your real name,” she sighed in mock exasperation.

“I meant ‘Red Hood’.”

“Red Hood…” she repeated slowly like she was feeling how the name sounded on her tongue.

“Red Hood,” he confirmed.

She quirked her head back and forth a few times examining his upper body.  “You call that a hood?  Shouldn’t it be like Red Mask or Red Scarf?”

“No, not like…” he flustered.  “Like Robin Hood.”

A dangerously excited smile spread on her lips.  “Please tell me you also have one of those hats, the,” she motioned vaguely around her head, “bycocket hats he supposedly wore.  He wouldn’t have, by the way.  That was just a Hollywood costume designer’s idea.”

He snorted and started walking again, almost chuckling as she fell into step beside him but only coming up to his shoulder.  “Sorry to break your heart but no.”

She pouted and slumped down.  “That’s unfortunate.”

“But,” he leaned toward her and she could feel the smile hidden beneath his mask, “my best friend did.”

She gasped and perked back up, eyes wide in excitement.  “No!”

“Yep.”

She was almost bouncing.  “Show me!”

He chuckled and shook his head.  “Let’s get you home and you can look it up yourself.  His name is Arsenal, but at the time he was called Speedy.”  They walked next to each other quietly for a full block, Marinette happily swinging her arms and shooting him covert looks every few seconds, Hood, unable to see her in his periphery due to the mask, looking over at her almost as frequently, before Marinette looked a bit too hard and ended up tripping.  Hood snorted at the show of clumsiness but instantly reached out to keep her from falling, not letting go until he could verify her shoes were firmly on the ground.  “So, what happened back there?”

She looked up at him, confusion clear on her face.  He was a vigilante in Gotham, surely an attempted mugging wasn’t an unfamiliar sight.  And his tone was far too teasing for it to be a straightforward question.  “Hmm?”

He nodded toward her feet.  “The guy came at you and yet both of your shoes are firmly on your feet.  What?  Are sneakers not as good weapons as flats?”

She barked out a laugh so loud the sound echoed off the buildings around them.  “You’ve seen Gotham streets.”  She gave a dramatic shiver.  “Rather be mugged than take off my shoes.”

Hood chuckled and shook his head.  “Fair.”

They continued walking again, the comfortable silence descending upon them for a few more steps until her racing heart demanded she speak.  “You know, usually, I get a date before someone walks me home.”

“Usually, you aren’t getting walked home by a vigilante,” he pointed out smugly but all his confidence dropped when Marinette snorted.  “What was that for?”

“Happens more often than you would think,” she snarked back.  His steps faltered slightly, and he whipped his questioning eyes to her.  “Heroes though,” she added as though lost in thought and turning to face him, though she gazed into space as she spoke, “not vigilantes, and back in Paris when Paris had heroes. They at least knew my name though.”

He scoffed.  “I know your name.”  She could feel his grin under his mask.  “Pixie Pop.”

She groaned and swung ahead of him.  “That’s what you’re sticking with, huh?”

“Unless you can give me something better,” he shrugged.

“Marinette.  My name is Marinette,” she replied.

“Marinette,” he repeated, almost reverently.  “Nice to meet you, Marinette.”

She had to stop walking before her knees gave out on her.  She somehow managed to turn to face him, eyes wide at that one word and the devotion he was able to convey even through the voice changer.  It took quite a few moments before she was able to recover enough to note where she was.  “Oh, this is me.”

She walked up the first few steps to her apartment building, knees still shaking slightly, but suddenly turned back toward Red Hood before he could step up, leaving them on the same level, which she took advantage of to lean forward and kiss him on the cheek of his mask.  “I can’t believe I miss the scarf,” she grumbled playfully as she looked up at him through her lashes.  “Thank you for walking me home.”

He nodded a bit dazed.  “Right, of course,” he agreed breathlessly.  He cleared his throat lightly and shook out his shoulders, continuing on with a lot more confidence.  “Wouldn’t be much of a vigilante if I let the fair citizens of Gotham get hurt.”

She hummed and rolled her eyes.  “Just business, huh?”

She was clearly being playful, but she was now leaning away from him like she was unsure, and he couldn’t have that.  He leaned into her space to whisper, “Maybe a bit more.”

She grinned.  “See you tomorrow at the grotesque?”

“I will never call him that…” he groused playfully for just a moment before brushing a strand of hair behind her shoulder, fingers brushing along her shoulder and upper arm before falling back by his side. “But yes.  It’s a date.  I’ll bring something to eat.”

“I’ll bring dessert and some wine,” she rasped, only able to form the words after swallowing thickly.

“Can’t wait,” he nodded and forced himself to take a step back.  “Have a good night, Marinette.”  He kept looking at her for another few moments before taking another step back and grappling away.

“Have a good night, Red Hood,” she whispered into the empty night.  She then twirled around with a squeal.  She had a dessert to overthink.  She was definitely going to have to have a group conversation to plan the perfect dessert and wine combination for a date with a vigilante.

Inspired by this image. Not even sure where the person got it from

[mochegato]

Party Foul

The party was buzzing, as were most of the people there, the wine and champagne having been flowing for a good few hours by then.  And most everyone having partaken more than a bit.  Everybody had smiles, some a bit sloppier than others, but smiles none the less.  Everybody was chatting, some a bit more animatedly than others, but chatting none the less.  Everybody was happy to be there and spending time with friends or ‘friends’ or complete strangers that they wanted to become friends or ‘friends’, some a bit happier than others, but happy none the less.

Everyone, that is, except one particularly petulant participant, who decided that instead of engaging with the crowd or even the attendees who he was friends with and enjoying the free alcohol and energetic environment, he would take up a position on a barstool, nursing a beer all night, and just glower.  Well, not just glower.  Somehow, he managed to absorb and destroy any echoing laughter or lightness that mistakenly entered his atmosphere.  All except for one particularly perky partygoer. 

Marinette bounced up to him, a wide but exasperated smile on her face.  “Why aren’t you enjoying the party?” she demanded playfully as she pushed her way between his legs so she could run her hands over his shoulders, up his neck, and into his hair just to muss it up a bit.  Not that it would upset him, she knew he wasn’t overly concerned with his hair, especially in front of these people, but it was the kind of cheeky move that usually entertained him.  Plus, tousling his hair just made him look sexier and they both knew it.

Jason gifted her a bemused roll of his eyes as he settled his hands on her hips.  Almost as quickly as his hands landed his body tensed again and he gripped her tighter, his gaze lifting past her shoulder to glare again.  She shook her head and then his shoulders with a chuckle.  “You’re so tense.  This is supposed to be fun.  Loosen up.”

“I’ll loosen up when those men stop staring at you,” he grumbled, his eyes never leaving the floor in an attempt to stare down any debauchers dense enough to continue to leer at his girlfriend.

She snorted and bobbed her head so it would be directly in his eye line, forcing him to shift focus back to her.  “Jealous of some strangers looking at me?”

“No,” he answered instantly, though his objection was contradicted by his eyes immediately returning to the party behind her and narrowing.  “But if they touch you like it looks like they’re clearly just looking for an opportunity to do, I’m going to kill them,” he finished with a growl.

She took a step back to look over him.  This is why he’d been so grumpy all night?  Because he was jealous of some strangers and potential clients?  Because he didn’t trust her?  “Really?” she demanded incredulously.

“What?” he asked in a matching tone.  “You’re mine.”

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow, took another step back, and cocked her hip.

“Nobody touches you without your permission,” he elaborated like he was explaining why someone gets wet when they jump in a pool.  “You don’t lie, you don’t cheat, and you’re mine.  So, if someone’s touching you, it’s without your permission, and nobody gets to disrespect you like that.”

He leaned back in his chair and let out a deep, aggravated breath, like the thoughts going through his head were weighing heavily on him.  “But if I kill them, it’s going to make you upset, and I don’t like upsetting you.  So, I can’t do that.  It’s all very frustrating.”

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds before lunging at him.  She threw her arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep, enthusiastic kiss.  She ignored where they were and all the people who might be watching them, letting her love and admiration flow through her lips and her hands.

It took a second for him to respond, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift, but he enthusiastically pulled her closer as soon as his brain caught up.  He cupped the back of her head to hold her closer and angle her head better, careful not to mess up her hair she had spent about an hour on.  He might be caught up in the moment, but that lesson was deeply ingrained in his psyche.

After quite a while, she finally pulled back to grin sappily up at him.  “Move in with me”

“What?” he asked, still dazed, his mind still reeling from the unexpectedly passionate and very public kiss.  Marinette was typically shy about public affection in public.  Not withholding, but not excessive.  This was mind rattling on several levels and wholly welcome.

“I love you,” she panted.  Her eyes were twinkling with excitement.  “Move in with me.”

He blinked a few times before finally processing her words and the implication.  “No,” he answered simply.

She backed up a bit and let her arms drop almost as fast as her heart had done.  “Oh… okay.”

He pulled her back against himself, his arms folded around her, anchoring her in place, his favorite place for her, pressed against him, as much of her touching him as possible while still allowing him to gaze into her eyes.  “My place is FAR nicer than yours.  We’ll move into my place… or get a new place one with a room for you to design in so it isn’t strewn out all over our living room… maybe get a pet…”

Marinette’s brilliant grin returned and her arms flew back around his neck.  “Oh.  Okay!”  She hugged him so tightly, his oxygen intake started decreasing, but when she started vibrating against him in her excitement, he forgot all about needing oxygen.  “Let’s go home.  I give you all kinds of permission to touch me as much as you want.”

Jason grinned wickedly.  “Yes, ma’am,” he exclaimed as he picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder and rushing toward the exit and their future.

[mochegato]

Surrender

Marinette scoffed and slumped into her seat, arms crossed, lips twisted into a pout, and head turned away from where she had tossed her phone down on the bar, like having it out of her eyesight would erase the conversation, which it didn’t.  What it did do, was make her miss the way her phone slid into several glasses causing them to slosh over and spill onto the bar and her phone.

“What did he say?” Tom asked softly.  He picked up her phone to clean it off and set it in front of her before wiping down the bar.

“Said I’m annoying,” she grumbled.  She suddenly lunged forward with wide, pleading eyes, hands clasped together.  “Another, please?”

He hummed as he grabbed a new glass for her.  “Not the greenest of flags.  Is he going to come get you?” he asked as he slid a full shot glass over to her.

Marinette downed the shot in one go and misjudging the bar height, dropped it back on the bar a bit harsher than she’d intended to.  “No?  Why would he,” she asked absently as she stared at the offending glass.

Tom gave her an exhausted look and let out a long, exasperated breath.  “I thought you were trying to get someone to pick you up.”

She looked at him confused and more than a bit affronted.  “Um, no?  I have not gotten drunk enough to forget my day.  Another please.”  She motioned toward her glass; her movements looser than she intended.  “I was asking him a question.  Or, trying to ask him a question.  He wouldn’t let me ask.  Kept interrupting me.  Because he’s a rude asshole.”

He sighed and picked up her phone, holding it out for her to activate it for him.  “Who else can I call to come get you, sweetheart?”

She put her thumb on the screen without looking at it.  “Well definitely not him,” she sniped.  “He calls me sweetheart sometimes too, but it’s never a nice way like you say it.  He always says it like he’s annoyed.”   She slumped down again and moped her head onto her hand.  “Joke’s on him though.  He’s the fucking annoying one,” she grumbled.  “Stupid looming height and obnoxious chiseled jaw and horrible sculpted abs and frustrating devilish smile…” she trailed off staring into the distance, absolutely not picturing his annoying qualities.

Tom gave a few detached hums in understanding as he swiped to her messages, suddenly letting out a chuckle and sliding the phone back toward her.  “You can stop worrying that gorgeous head of yours.  Taken care of.  Here,” he slid another shot over to her.

Marinette grinned up at him.  “You think my head is gorgeous? Thank you!  I think yours is too.  It’s nice to have a guy actually say nice things to me and mean them.”  The bartender opened his mouth as Marinette downed the shot, but she waved her hand, the shot glass swinging precariously in her grip as she did.  “I mean, I have friends and they say nice things.  I meant like… they have to because they’re my friends and that’s what friends do… except Chloe.  But you’re not saying it just because you’re a friend and you have to.”  She looked forlornly at the bar.  “I should just find someone who will say things like that to me… non-platonically and forget about judgmental donkeys who lecture me and judge me.  Or even just act like they enjoy me being around.”

She suddenly stopped and looked down at the bar aghast.  “Deiu, my standards have dropped.”  She looked up at the bartender, eyes wide.  “I sound like I’d date just about anyone who said pretty words to me.”

Tom sighed and looked past her intently for a few seconds like he was trying to decide something.  Finally, he slid another full shot glass to her.  “You gotta be careful saying things like that in here,” he warned and leveled a finger at her.  “If I wasn’t here glowering at every man in this bar, you would be inundated with non-platonic comments.  Some of which would no doubt be borderline illegal.  They don’t need the encouragement.”

Marinette straightened up, her eyes lighting up.  “You think so?” she asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

She turned to look around her, but he reached out and grabbed her shoulder to turn her right back toward the bar.  “No.”

Marinette harumphed and slumped down again but couldn’t fall back with Tom’s hand still holding onto her.  “Didn’t say it in a dom voice so it doesn’t count,” she grumbled to her lap.  After a beat she looked up.  “What wasn’t I supposed to worry about?”

He met her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.  “No, she’s not interested in a drink or a dance.  Or anything other than going home alone.  Fuck off,” he stated loudly.

Marinette quirked her head to the side, her face scrunching in confusion until she heard a deep, low voice behind her, and her eyes instantly widened as she straightened up, which was not at all related to the shiver that had flittered down her spine at the feel of his baritone rolling through her body.  “I'm here to pick her up.”

“You the boyfriend she was texting?” Tom asked, motioning toward him with his chin.

“No!” Marinette exclaimed.

“Texting yes. Boyfriend, no,” Jason corrected.  He took the shot glass from in front of her and downed it in one smooth motion, instantly pulling back to look at it curiously.  He raised an eyebrow at Tom after the complete lack of any kind of alcoholic burn, or taste, in his mouth and throat.  Jason gave an appreciative nod to his shrug, then met Marinette’s glare with a smirk.  “Not yet anyway,” he amended.

“Good luck changing that,” Tom encouraged. 

Marinette tore her glare from Jason to use it full force on the backstabbing bartender.  “Do not wish him luck with that!” Marinette squawked.  “Wish him some tact.  Wish him some empathy.  Wish him a fucking heart.”

“Thank you,” Jason nodded to Tom.

“Do not thank him,” she hissed at Jason.  She stood up, proud that she only wavered a little bit, but annoyed that standing actually made her shorter than when she had been seated on the bar stool, so she lost some of her threatening status.  Not that she ever felt like she remotely threatening to Jason.  He could lay down, fully bound with chains and still be more threatening than she felt at her strongest.  It was in his aura.  It was in his voice.  It was just him.  Strong.  Formidable.  Safe.  Dangerous!  She meant dangerous.

But when he smiled or laughed?  It was the most disarming, calming, transcendent feeling.  However he hadn’t been sharing that laugh with her lately, especially since their last mission, which was not her fault!  And she saved the mission, thank you very much.  Damn near cost her life to do and instead of thanking her, he’d screamed at her… in front of everyone.  And since then, all she got were glowers and criticisms.

“You don’t get to come in here with your stupid better-than-you smirks and winks and act like you’re not a jerk to me every other opportunity!  Like you haven’t been a complete ass to me the last few days, trying to make me feel small.”

“But you are so small,” he teased.

Her angry expression turned blank.  She plopped back in her seat and turned away from him.  “You heard the man, fuck off.  I’m going home alone.  Without you.”

He let out a long deep, tortured breath.  All indications of teasing were gone as he stared intently at the side of her head.  “Marinette, I understand that you have no sense of self-preservation, but you are in no state to go home alone.  You need someone to take you home.  I’m here.  I’m taking you.”

“The hell you are,” she hissed.  She shot him an overly innocent expression, wide eyes and slight smile.  “I can call Roy.  I’m sure he’d be more than willing to drop everything and anything to come and pick me up, take me home, and tuck me into my bed,” she said smugly.

“He wouldn’t be able to walk himself back out of the bar if he did,” Jason growled as he pulled her out of her seat and tried to maneuver her toward the door.

Marinette batted at his hand as he tried to guide her out.  “You do not get to swoop in here like you suddenly want to start being protective…”

“Marinette,” he interrupted.  He stepped forward so he was almost touching toes, towering over her with a gaze in his dark eyes so intense it stole the words from her throat.  “I am taking you home and then I am putting you in your bed.  You are going to listen to me and stop fighting me.”  His voice was deep and commanding in a way she had never heard before.  “Do you understand me?”

She stared at him in utter shock, all ability to form words destroyed.  She swallowed thickly and tried to respond, but her brain still hadn’t kicked in.  The only thing she could do was nod.  Jason’s eyes softened.  He hooked his finger under her chin and urged her face up so she no longer had to look at him through her lashes, but rather could meet his eyes full on.  “I need to hear the words, Pixie.”

“I understand,” she said breathlessly.

He nodded in approval.  “Good girl,” he said quietly.  He had to take a moment to calm his heart when he felt her shiver at his words.  She was responding better to his words than he could have ever possibly anticipated.  It made him start imagining things he’d never let himself imagine before.  Things he’d forcibly stopped himself from imagining, much to the frustration of the people around him, because he inevitably took out his frustrations on everyone… including her and especially when she didn’t value herself as much as he did.

It took a solid four breaths before he could turn her toward the door again and push her in front of him so he could guide and protect her from the leering men around them.  They’d only made it a few steps into the fray before Tom called them back.  “Might want this.”  He held her phone up and shook it gently.

Jason grunted and turned Marinette around to meet his eyes.  “Stay right here.  Do not move.”  He waited until she nodded before returning to the bar.  “Thank you,” he told the bartender as he pocketed the phone.  “And thank you for watching out for her tonight.”

Tom nodded back.  “Not a problem.  She’s a good kid.  Very sweet… but you might want to rethink how you deal with her.”  He leveled Jason with a stern look.  “She almost tried looking for some guy who would say nice things to her.  She needs someone to tell her she does matter.  She is important.  She is worthy.”

He kept the harsh eye contact for a few more beats, letting his words sink in, before continuing.  “I don’t know what your dynamic is, but she doesn’t think you feel all of that, like at all, then you’re just an asshole on a power trip.”

Jason stared at him for a few seconds then glanced back at Marinette for the first time taking in her stance.  She had wrapped her arms around herself and was looking at the floor morosely.  He hadn’t noticed.  He’d wanted her to realize how valuable she was, how important, but instead, he’d made her think that he thought the opposite.  He sighed and nodded to Tom.  “Thanks again.”

It was a long car ride to Marinette’s apartment, at least for Jason.  It gave him all kinds of time to rethink how he had been treating Marinette.  Not cruel, but not kind.  Not like he wanted to but how he felt like he needed to in order to keep her from burrowing into his heart any further than she already had and understand she was being too reckless with her life.  And clearly, that had been a mistake, because he hadn’t just been hurting himself, he’s been hurting her as well.

“Okay, Pixie Pop, time to go to bed,” Jason commanded as he ushered her into her apartment.

Marinette groaned but let him guide her in, but as soon as she crossed the threshold, she twisted so she was walking backward, and she could shoot him a pout.  “Can’t sleep.  I’m not tired.”

“You can sleep,” he corrected confidently and pointed her toward her bedroom.  “I know you can.  You fell asleep in the car in the car on the way here.”

“And now I’m awake,” she answered like it was an obvious sequence of events that he should have understood without her spelling it out.  “Oh!”  She stopped walking and perked up instead, almost jumping into him.  “I didn’t get to dance with anyone tonight.  Dance with me!”

Her expression was open and excited, the very personification of innocence and sweetness.  It was physically painful to have to deny her, but she needed to sleep off the alcohol and if they danced like she wanted to, he didn’t know if he would have the strength to deny her, and that night was not going to be their night.  She was still tipsy and when they first moved into that relationship, they were going to choose to do it.

She needed to sleep.  She knew she needed to sleep.  He knew she needed to sleep.  She knew he knew she needed to sleep.  She was just pushing him.  Trying to see how far she could go, but he wasn’t about to let her get away with it.  “Stop being a brat and go to bed, like the good girl I know you can be,” he commanded, his voice dipping low again.

Marinette froze and her smile dropped as her eyes grew wide and she swallowed thickly.  She kept eye contact for a few long seconds, possibly hours, before dropping her eyes to the floor and pulling her lower lip between her teeth.  She shifted uncomfortably but nodded.  “Okay,” she agreed weakly and turned toward her bedroom.

“Marinette,” he stated firmly, just a single word but the order was implicit in the tone, and she clearly picked up on it, freezing instantly.  He stepped in front of her and waited for her to look up and meet his eyes.  When she still hadn’t after a full minute, he spoke up.  “Marinette, I need you to tell me what’s wrong.  I can’t do anything if I don’t know what is bothering you.”  She still didn’t look up, but she started shifting again, so he just had to wait her out and she could grace him with her voice.

After a few moments, she finally did.  “I’m not tired,” she repeated even quieter than she had spoken before, so quietly he almost couldn’t hear her even in her silent apartment.  “My body is all,” she made a vague, frantic motion with her arms.  “And my head is all,” she made even more frantic motions, a little higher this time.  “I can’t relax.  I’m sorry.”

Jason let out a long breath as guilt washed over him.  She wasn’t being a brat; she was telling him what she needed without telling him what she needed.  When he looked at her, he could see the anxiety rolling off her.  It shouldn’t have taken so much to see it.  How was she supposed to trust him when he couldn’t see clear signs?  How was she supposed to be willing to hand over control if she couldn’t trust him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he assured her, his voice genuine and soothing in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to use with her before.  “It’s just the way you feel and there’s nothing wrong with feeling your emotions.  But now that I know, I can help.”

She blinked up at him, her head quirking to the side, the apprehension that had marked her expression thankfully replaced by confusion.  “Help?”

“Help,” he repeated with a nod and urged her toward her bedroom.

“What do… How are… What?” she finally sputtered out, but didn’t try to escape the possessive hand on her lower back pushing her forward.  She couldn’t tell if things were happening extremely fast or if she was just still a bit drunk.

Once they reached her door he stopped.  “Okay, Pixie, look, I know I owe you an apology.  I’ve been a dick to you all week, fuck, all month, several months and you didn’t deserve it.  And I want to make it up to you.  So, get into your most comfortable pajamas.”  She opened her mouth but before she could get the objection out, he spoke up.  “I know you’re too wired to sleep.  I don’t expect you to just fall asleep.  Just trust me.”  He waited until she nodded then nodded back.  “Go,” he urged just before pushing her into her bedroom.

For the several minutes it took her to get into her pajamas, Jason focused on his breathing and heartrate.  He was going to ace this.  It was normal to think you could ace a slow roll into a relationship, right?  He winced internally so hard, it transferred to externally.  No, no it was not and he couldn’t even lie to himself that it was.  But at least he’d gotten his breathing and heartrate under control.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Marinette announced shyly as she opened the door.

And there went the control.

Her pajamas weren’t scandalous or overtly sexy.  It was just shorts that barely poked out under her oversized shirt.  But it was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

“What did you want me to do?” she asked.  Her eyes widened slightly and she rushed to add, “to relax,” but then winced because that didn’t make it sound better.

He let out a controlled breath.  “Go lay down on the bed, face down.”

She cocked her head to the side.  And that made it sound worse.  “Face down?”

“Face down,” he confirmed and pushed her toward the bed by her shoulders.

She eyed him suspiciously over her shoulder but complied, quickly getting into position, moving her pillows so she could lay face down in her normal spot.  There were serious doubts about this plan racing through her mind because far from being relaxing, she was more on edge than before.

She had no idea what was happening.  She didn’t know what Jason had planned.  She didn’t know why he was ‘helping’ her.  She didn’t know why he insisted on taking her home.  She didn’t know why he got so angry at the idea of Roy helping instead.  Because the only answers she could think of didn’t make any sense and she knew had to be wrong.  She almost yelped when she felt the bed dip under his weight next to her, her entire body tensing.  Maybe it was all an elaborate plan to strangle her in her bed.  He’d certainly looked like he wanted to more than a few times over the past few days.  And he may have apologized, but maybe he didn’t mean it.

She did actually squeak when she felt his hands on her shoulders, squeezing and releasing then adjusting slightly repeating.  “What are you doing?” she asked shakily.  His hands were working toward her neck, but it didn’t feel aggressive…

“Relaxing you,” he chuckled.  “If you have to ask, I must not be doing it right.”  But he continued to massage her uninterrupted.

“This is supoooohhh.”  Her objection was immediately cut off because, yeah, he was right.  She clearly should have trusted him.  It just felt so good on her tense muscles and when he fisted her hair, pulling gently away from her body as he applied pressure to her shoulder, a moan ripped from her before she even knew it was building up.

Jason froze at the sound, instantly releasing her hair.  It took a few moments before he could continue on the other side but when she made the same noise again, he had to take a step back.  “You have to stop doing that, Pixie, or I’m going to have to leave.”

“But it feels so good,” she groaned.

He continued to stare at her for a few moments, his mind warring over how to respond.  He was being respectful.  He was giving her space and time so they could build up trust, but she was playing dirty, and if she was ready… “Anytime you want me to make you feel good, Pixie, all you have to do is ask,” he answered lowly.

At that response and tone, Marinette tensed up again.  She slowly sat up to face him.  It was too much.  She couldn’t take it any longer.  She needed to know.  “Why did you come to pick me up?  You were acting cold all week and then you came so quickly.  Why?

“You really don't get it do you,” he shook his head.  It was clear he was disappointed, but she wasn’t sure if it was with her or something or someone else. 

“No!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out in frustration and her eyes filling with tears.  “Why have you been treating me like… like… I don’t know, like you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you!”  He interrupted, not able to hold his tongue any longer.  “I hate that you put your life in danger so cavalierly.  I hate that you don’t value yourself the way I do.  I hate that you don’t seem to see how important you are to everyone around you.  But I don’t hate you.  No, what I feel is far from hate.  It’s the opposite, in fact.”

“What does that mea…”

“I love you,” he yelled.  “I love you,” he repeated, calmer and more confident.  “I love you and I want you and I know I shouldn’t.  I know you are too innocent for me, too good, but every time I look into your eyes, see your smile, hear your laugh, watch you get lost in a project, all I can think of his how I would like to destroy that… with me.  I want so badly to feel you under me, in front of me, around me, obeying me, surrendering to me…”

He heaved out a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair.  “Marinette,” he groaned out breathlessly, “the things I would like to do to you.”

“Tell me…” she begged, “please.”

His fingers were shaky, barely able to keep them under control as he trailed them over her face and neck.  He ran his fingers over her neck a few times distractedly, almost like he was imagining the things he would do until he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to him crashing his lips to hers.

His chapped lips chaffed against her soft ones.  It caused an exquisite kind of sensation compiling the already overwhelming feelings of finally, finally feeling him reciprocate her feelings.  She was getting lost in all the sensations and emotions.  It was too much and she hoped it never ended.  His kisses were bruising and possessive, like he was claiming her as his, and she wanted nothing more than to surrender to him.

Far too soon, he took a step back, the effort involved seemingly as painful for him as it was for her.  His eyes dark and his chest heaving as hard as hers.  “You are trouble,” he heaved through gasping breaths.  It was another few breaths before he continued with more control.  “You need to sleep.  We can discuss this tomorrow.”

She barely contained the whine that built up at the loss of him, but it still came out in her tone.  “Can’t we continue tonight and talk tomorrow?”

The offer was so tempting, too tempting, just like her.  He had to close his eyes and take a few deep, steadying breaths.  “No.  We need to have a conversation first.  About what we want, what we expect… limits.  And I want us both sober and well rested before we have that conversation.”  She nodded like she understood but couldn’t remove her gaze from his lips so he wasn’t quite sure.

Finally, her eyes lifted to meet his.  “Can you still stay?  Not for,” she motioned vaguely between them, “just… hold me?”

She looked up at him so innocently, so sweetly, so dangerously, he couldn’t say no even knowing he should.  They should take time to detox from these feelings and think rationally, but she had always had that effect on him, making him act irrationally.  “Always, Pixie.”

She smiled softly as she took his hand and guided him to her bed, climbing in slowly, keeping constant eye contact, like she was afraid he might disappear if she broke it for even an instant.  He followed her lead, stalking behind prey.  She didn’t break eye contact until she had laid down and turned over, pulling his hand with her to keep him close, which he eagerly obliged, crawling in right behind her and wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her against him in a protective, peaceful position.

The peace only lasted a few moments before she started wiggling in his arms.  The wiggling wouldn’t have been an issue except it ended up causing her to wiggle against extremely sensitive areas… repeatedly.  “Pixie, you have got to stop wiggling.”

“Sorry,” she whispered earnestly.  “I just can’t seem to settle.”

He groaned, though it came out as more of a moan because he knew.  He knew what she needed to settle and it just proved even further that she was absolutely perfect for him.  He snaked his arm up from her waist, between her breasts and rested his hand lightly around her throat, tensing his arm to trap her against him in a protective, possessive position.

She melted into him letting out a contented sigh, falling asleep almost instantly.  Noting the change in her breathing pattern, Jason let out a long sigh.  “I am so completely screwed,” he mumbled to himself before following her to sleep, knowing he couldn’t wait for it to happen.

[mochegato]

Santa Baby

This was getting out of hand.  Well, no, it was in hand, but it was a close thing.  Mayhem was definitely reigning.  But that’s what Christmas is, isn’t it?  Not the Hallmark, picture-perfect, sanitized, Instagram-ready version of Christmas.  No, the real Christmas is children running around and barreling into cousins and favorite uncles or aunts they haven’t seen in months to give them the biggest hug their little bodies can manage.  It’s grandparents or that one family member who isn’t blood related but is absolutely family, sugaring the kids up before sending them home with their parents.

Christmas is beautiful, glorious chaos, all tied up in red bows and tinsel.

Which is why Marinette was currently sporting her own red bows on her Christmas-red dress, long enough to be elegant for the formal atmosphere of the Wayne Enterprise holiday party, but short enough to allow her the freedom to run after kids while they enjoyed some adult-free time where they didn’t have to act like mini adults just because they were at their parents’ place of employment.

This area was the children’s area.  It was haphazard and imperfect, with bright, garish colors and visually-unappealing toys that made too much noise, but made children endlessly happy.  It was everything the party on the other side of the door wasn’t.

It was perfect.  With the very serious exception of the tinsel.  Whoever decided tinsel was the perfect addition to the children’s area either hated Marinette or did not understand children.  Marinette had spent her first half hour painstakingly collecting all of the tinsel within arm’s reach.  She was more than happy to blame Tim for the tinsel, after all he had bragged about having his hand in every element of the gala planning, though perhaps lamented would be a more appropriate word for what he had been doing.

It was also his fault she was there in the first place, and yeah, maybe she'd volunteered, more comfortable with toddlers than pompous, handsy businessmen.  And it wasn’t like she had a date to insulate her from the ‘friendly’ chatting filled with thinly veiled insinuations and innuendos, which meant the night would end with her upsetting at least one major partner in the company and either getting returned to intern status or just fired outright.  A fact which Tim knew and had heartily taken advantage of; the singledom not the fear.  Actually… she wasn’t sure it wasn’t both.

“Oh, no, sweetie, that’s not food,” Marinette called as she rushed over to yet another toddler who had a fistful of missed tinsel in his hand and was trying to shove his entire hand and its contents into his mouth.  She hoped she was keeping her voice light and airy, not letting the exasperation of repeating the same phrase yet again and she must have been successful because he grinned brilliantly at her, dropped the tinsel, and held his arms up in the universal child signal.

“You want me to pick you up?” she cooed, already lifting him onto her hip as she spoke.  “That better, Eli?”  He grinned up at her with a gummy smile that absolutely melted her heart.  She grinned back and tickled his belly as she stood, but as soon as she straightened she heard another yawp at her feet and looked down to find another toddler, this one a few months older than Eli, likely only nine months old.  Carrie was giving the same signal, clearly understanding that Marinette had a second arm and hip, and thus could certainly hold her as well.

“Ms. Dupain Cheng!  Ms. Dupain Cheng,” a young girl who could not have been more than 8 called to her.  “Watch me!”  It was the only warning she got before the little girl did a gymnastics pass with a series of cartwheels, front flips, and round offs.  Marinette only had time for her eyes to grow impossibly large before it was over, not that there was much she could have done with her arms filled with two toddlers.  “Good wasn’t it?” Lizzy beamed, only breathing slightly harder.  “I’m doing it for my competition in a few weeks.”

Marinette offered a strained smile.  “Yeah, sweetie.  Very impressive.  Great form.  But maybe let’s not practice gymnastics with so many kids running around.”  Lizzy gave her a flat look that made it clear Marinette’s argument was not appreciated.  “And not on a hard floor.  That’s… bad for your knees!” she tried quickly, this time receiving an uncertain side eye, which was better at least.

“Did you want to dance with kids over there?  Or if you want something a bit more creative, Sarah is over at the table drawing signs for Santa and Eric is drawing cars.”  She looked around with exaggerated covertness and crouched down to her level, which was quite a feat of balance and strength, if she did say so herself, with the two toddlers on her hips.  She lowered her voice so only Lizzy, Eli, and Carrie could hear her.  “There’s just about every kind of glitter on that table for you guys to use and you can use as much as you want.”

Lizzy’s eyes lit up.  “Glitter?”  Marinette hummed in affirmative, barely concealing her smirk at the growing excitement in Lizzy’s eyes.  “As much as I want?” she repeated as though there was a trick in the offer.

“Yep,” Marinette nodded, popping the p.  “As much as you want.”  Lizzy squealed and ran to the table completely missing the chuckles behind her as Marinette watched her launch herself at the different containers of glitter.  Her moment of levity only lasted a few seconds before she heard the distinct sounds of blocks crashing down and immediate bawling.  But before she could intervene, the doors burst open with a loud boom, distracting all the kids.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa Claus trumpeted, not so much easing into the room as bursting in.  “Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!”  All of the children stopped what they were doing to turn their attention to him.  Almost all of the smaller children rushed over to him while the older kids returned their attention to their activities, and a select few hid from him.  Whoever was playing Santa did an excellent job of threading the line with each of them, giving the timid kids their space, but making sure they knew he was open to talking if they were interested, chatting with the younger kids and getting their Christmas lists, while discussing video games and dancing with the older kids.

After he’d made the rounds he stopped by Marinette.  “And what about you, little girl?  What would you like for Christmas?”  His eyes sparkled with a contagious mirth.

Just then Eli tugged hard on her Santa hat and would have succeeded in pulling it off her head if Santa hadn’t interceded to put it back.  “I could use a bit of help,” she joked.

Santa opened his mouth, but whatever response he was going to give was interrupted by a couple coming in and calling for Eric, one of the kids that had hidden from Santa.  Eric ran up to them excitedly and jumped into his father’s arms, already babbling to both of them about his time there before his father had even stood.  His mother gasped at all the right places, her energetic smile becoming more tender when her husband kissed her temple and guided their family toward the door.

Marinette sighed longingly as they walked out the door.  “…and a boyfriend,” she uttered thoughtlessly but straightened up instantly, just realizing she said the words out loud, “…if you’re feeling generous,” she finished sheepishly.  Her cheeks heated a deep red in embarrassment, which seemed to thrill the toddlers on her hips who then reached to grab her cheeks, further bringing attention to her mortification.

Santa chuckled and nodded.  “I’ll see what I can do.”  He bobbed his head toward the party on the other side of the door.  “Gotta go make an appearance for the real children.  Merry Christmas, Marinette.”

“Merry Christmas to you,” she responded immediately.  She returned her attention to Eli and Carrie, nuzzling into them each in turn before his words sunk in.  She snapped her head toward the door.  “Hey, how do you know my…” but he had already disappeared, the door snicking shut quietly.  “…name.”

She stared at the shut door for a few seconds before deciding he must be another employee.  He certainly didn’t look like the real Santa.  She remembered his blue eyes vividly.  These were a very different blue.  But, before she could think too hard about why they seemed so familiar, Carrie knocked her out of her stupor with a baby hand to the cheek and loud noises making it quite clear she was ready to be entertained again.

“Oh, I am so sorry sweetheart.  Was I not giving you the proper attention,” Marinette giggled.  “Come on, you two, let’s play with the blocks over there.”  Carrie trilled as though she understood what Marinette was saying but kept her eyes darting between Marinette’s eyes and lips, waiting for her next words.  Meanwhile Eli looked toward the blocks and reached for them like the movement would get her to move faster.

Before she could make it to the blocks, she was sidetracked to the music section of the room where an argument had started over what song to play next.  A hearty Taylor Swift contingent was battling against an impassioned Disney contingent, though both of them were ignoring a significantly smaller Bell Biv DeVoe contingent of just one nine-year-old.

After much negotiation, and unabashed pleading, she finally got them to agree to a compromise of AJR to start, then shuffling the other options and letting the computer decide.  Thankfully, the older kids saw it as a fair compromise since nobody ‘wins’ and there are no biases.  Just random selections.  Once the older kids agreed and started dancing, the younger kids got excited as well.

She had just enough time to take a breath, her arms burning from still carrying Eli and Carrie, when movement at the door drew her attention.  A man, an indisputably stunning man in an impeccable suit, elegant in a boyish way, had poked his head in to look around uncertainly.  She eyed him suspiciously, He definitely wasn’t one of the parents who had dropped their children off.  She would have remembered those roguish eyes.  But if he wasn’t a parent, she couldn’t figure out why he would be there around all the innocent, defenseless children.

She froze for just a second trying to decide between the instincts to protect the kids in her arms by keeping them there or protect them by setting them down.  She opted to keep them in her arms for now, but keep enough distance between them and him so she could set them down and get between them if he got aggressive.

“Can I help you?”  She’d tried to keep the mistrust out of her tone, but she was entirely confident she hadn’t.

His eyes jumped to her and a broad, charming smile spread on his lips.  “Actually, I’m here to help you.  I was told you needed a bit of help.”

Marinette stared at him dumbfounded for a few seconds before Eli demanded her attention by tugging on her Santa hat and trying to bring it to his mouth.  She squeaked in surprise and shot him a sheepish smile.  “Okay.  Right.”  But instead of moving to invite him in, she stared at him hard for a few seconds.  He seemed honest, but she didn’t really want to risk it with children involved.

“Unless you don't want help with the kids...” he hedged when she hadn’t responded after a few seconds.

“Oh no, yes!  Please.  I just didn't think you worked here.  I thought everyone helping out tonight was supposed to wear a Santa hat or something,” she offered as lightly as she could, throwing out the bait to see how he reacted.

He raised an eyebrow.  “I don't wear funny hats,” he intoned.  His tone was so flat and his expression so unimpressed, she almost laughed.

“Not even for Christmas?” she teased, her eyes exaggeratedly wide, which was only encouraged by the toddlers trilling at her reaction.

He made a show of appraising her hat, barely clinging to her head with Eli still trying to chew it.  “Not all of us look as good in red as you do,” he crooned with a wink.

She blinked.  It was the wink.  It was too much.  She was not equipped to handle this much smooth flirting, especially not with two toddlers on her hips.  She had to take a few beats, covered by pretending to play argue with Eli, before she could get her racing heart and blushing cheeks in check.  But once she did, she wasn’t about to let this chance slip by.  “I think you'd look pretty good in red,” she purred back but had to immediately turn to Carrie so he couldn’t see her blazing cheeks.  Nope.  She wasn’t equipped to flirt back either.

He froze for just a second, but his lips quickly melted into a brilliant smile.  Until she spoke her next words very firmly.  “But, I can’t just let you work with the kids.  I don’t know who you are and even if I did, we haven’t done a background check.”

He nodded in understanding, his smile softening to just a slight upturn as he reached into his pocket, keeping his eyes on her the entire time until he pulled something out to show her.  “Here.  My WE ID card.  B… Mr. Wayne requires a thorough background check for anyone working for him.  Anyone who shows any indication of being a danger to children are not hired.  I don’t really know what else I could say to convince you right now.”

She stared at the card intently, analyzing each letter and color to find any indication of forgery, but she couldn’t find anything.  Thank God.  She really didn’t want to kick the sexiest man she’d seen in years, and she’d seen Dick Grayson up close and in person, out with a bad impression of her.  “I’ll take that assurance,” she grinned with a nod.  “And I definitely need the help, if you’re sure.”

As if to prove her point, at that moment, Lizzy rushed toward them in another impressive but ill-aimed gymnastic pass.  The man lunged for her moments before she crashed into another kid, everyone involved letting out a relieved breath.  “Oh, yeah, definitely,” he nodded as he gently placed Lizzy on the ground in a controlled motion that Marinette envied.  She’d only been supporting babies for a short period, not even their full weight which was mostly on her hips, and her arms were already starting to shake.  “Jason, by the way,” he finished when he’d turned back toward her.

“Thank you so much.  Marinette,” she grinned back with a severely limited using the hand holding Carrie.  She slowly lowered herself to Lizzy’s level cursing herself the entire time because she knew, she knew, she wasn’t going to be able to stand back up, but she had to do it anyway.  “I thought you were going to do some art with the glitter.”

“Got bored,” Lizzy shrugged, not able to make eye contact with Marinette because she was looking back and forth between the new adult and Marinette.

“You know, my brother does gymnastics.  Teaches even,” Jason started as he lowered down next to Marinette, his voice contemplative, like it was just a coincidence Lizzy just happened to overhear him.  “So, I can tell you, these floors are really dangerous for it.”  He knocked on the hardwood floor to demonstrate.  “They’re too hard and too slippery.”  Lizzy gave him the same unimpressed look she’d given Marinette earlier, then shot a suspicious look toward Marinette, clearly confident that Marinette had put him up to it.  “But what you can do…”  He shucked off his shoes and took a running start before sliding easily across the floor in his socks.  He turned back to Lizzy with a brilliant, boyish smile.

Lizzy grinned back at him and imitated him, bumping into him lightly at the end.  Pure, innocent laughter bubbled out of her, drawing the attention of several other kids around them.  Jason barely slid to a stop back next to Marinette before more children in the room started making their way over to them.  Even Eli reached for Jason to hold him and Carrie started wiggling in Marinette’s arms to get down and join the fun.

In no time, almost all of the children were running across the floor and sliding with differing levels of success.  This fact naturally led to it becoming a competition between them, with Jason not so covertly helping the littler kids and deftly handling any complaints of cheating or interference while keeping Eli laughing.  While he engaged the kids with that, Marinette took on the babies and kids who were not interested in the floor skating competition.  They seamlessly tag-teamed the kids, switching out when they needed, backing each other up, and working together to keep a smile on as many kids’ faces as they could while the clock ticked away unnoticed until finally, the last kid, Eli, was handed back to his parents.

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as the door closed behind them and collapsed into a chair, her whole body melting into it and her head falling back as her eyes closed.  “Finally done,” she sighed.  Even in her exhausted state, she was still intensely aware of Jason and the fact that he’d chosen to sit in the chair that almost touched hers.  It took a few beats before she felt like she could handle speaking with him so very close and no children to hide behind.  “Thank you so much for helping me out.  I don’t know if I could have managed it without you.  Certainly not with my sanity intact.”

“No problem, glad to help.”  The smile he shot her should be illegal.  It made her heart start fluttering dangerously.  And the way the ball from the Santa hat Eli had taken from her and put on him, fell into his eyes?  Her lungs were paralyzed.  She didn’t think she’d be able to take a full breath ever again.  “And really, you should be thanking Santa.”

That knocked her body back into rhythm as she tried to make sense of his words.  “Santa?”  She’d made it very clear to Santa last time she’d seen him that he needed to stay out of her life, especially her love life.

His responding grin was slow and easy, distracting her momentarily into thinking about how she should start a catalogue of his different smiles.  Each one seemed to have a slightly different effect on her body.  “He caught me in the gala and sent me over.  Said he thought I might be able to help you.”

“Santa sent you over…” she asked slowly.

“Really, it was helping me more than you, I think.  I was more than ready to be out of there.  Pompous jerks that think they’ve earned respect and immunity simply by stealing wealth.  Honestly, it’s better if I’m not there.  I’m not sure what my dad is thinking manipulating me into coming to these.  Though this time it was more my brother pushing for me to come.  Said he thought I’d enjoy it this time…”  Jason chuckled and looked over at her. 

Marinette stared at her Santa hat.  This was against their agreem… “Ooohhh,” she breathed out before she realized it had slipped out.  ‘Santa’ not Santa.  Oh, that made so much more sense… kind of.  Still not sure why ‘Santa’ would care about her love life or be generous enough to send such an amazing option.

“Plans for the rest of the night?”

Marinette hummed, only incredibly distracted by the way he’d stretched his legs out in front of him to relax into his chair.  “Relax in a bath, I think,” she answered distractedly.  “That’s about it.  Nothing really.  Just want to get off my feet.  You?”

His eyes darted over to her, a conspiratorial smile on his lips.  “I don’t know about you but I’m hungry.  These things happen over dinner time and then never offer food.   I could go for a nice dinner,” his voice lifted at the end in clear invitation.

She nodded in agreement.  And, yep, that smile needed to be cataloged as well.  “Oh, food, right.  I forgot that was a thing.”  She looked over and smirked at him.  “That sounds really nice.”

He gave her a dazzling, pleased smile and walked over to grab his and then her coat.  He held her coat up so she could slink into it easily and she just barely managed to hold in her squeal.  Walking over to him normally was a challenge, but she thought she somehow managed it… more or less.  “You choose the place, I’ll pay,” she offered looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Jason slid her coat over her shoulders then ran his hands over her shoulders and upper arms, his touch feather light and Marinette almost pouted when he stepped back, but it turned into a laugh when he reached into his pocket and held up a credit card between two fingers.  “No, dinner will be on Santa.”  He winked before tucking the card back in his pocket then opening the door for her and sweeping his arm toward the exit with a small bow. 

“You stole from Santa?” she asked incredulously.

“Borrowed,” he corrected with a devilish grin, “borrowed from Santa.  He owed me anyway.” She huffed out a laugh as she moved forward.  “Now, come on, let’s find some place we can talk.  I’ve been dying to get to know you better all night.”  He let out a quiet breath as she passed through in front of him, a small, optimistic smile pulling his lips up.  “Merry Christmas to me,” he whispered to himself.

[mochegato]

Mine Replacement

Continuation of You're Mine

This was wrong.  It was all wrong.  She just couldn’t put her finger on what about it was wrong, but it was.  She could feel it.  The whole night.  But the most frustrating thing was nobody else seemed to notice, at least not on her side.  Nightwing and B were reacting like nothing was out of the ordinary.  There was no caution, no suspicion in their movements like there was for her.  Because it wasn’t right.

Hood’s men were mostly acting normal, especially the lower peons threatening the drug dealers who were taking a bit too much interest in younger looking pedestrians, but there was a coarseness to the night’s strategy that typically wasn’t there.  And again, she couldn’t even put her finger on what it was.  What single act or presence or even lack of presence that gave it away, but it was there none the less.

She could see the difference in her own actions and approach.  She was far more guarded and less confident than she usually was going into any discussions with his men, asked more questions when dealing with the aftermath, monitored the area with more scrutiny than she usually exhibited.  She’d only seen a few brief flashes of Red Hood in the distance, and maybe that was what set it all off, because while she couldn’t put her finger on what was going on with his men or his strategy, she could catalog each and every movement of Jason’s that was wrong.

By halfway through patrol, she was fully immersed in paranoia.  She was jumping at everything to the point that Bruce caught up with her and told her to go home.  Didn’t even yell at her.  Just gave her a very concerned, intense stare, looked her over quickly and said she should sleep off whatever was going on.  He and Nightwing could handle it, which just made her feel so much worse, but he was right.  Jason being off was making her be off and it was going to get someone hurt.  So instead of arguing, she just nodded, thanked him, and watched him swing away silently.

She waited until he was well out of sight and confirmed on her yoyo that he was more than a few blocks away and quickly moving further away, before approaching where she knew Red Hood had concealed himself a few rooftops away.

Instead of rushing to him like she normally would, she moved slowly hedging closer cautiously.  Her shoulders tensed instantly at his chuckle.  “Knew you’d know,” he proclaimed.  The voice was all wrong.  That definitely wasn’t Jason’s voice.  Even with the modulator, she knew it wasn’t.  It wasn’t the right timber, wasn’t the right cadence.  The accent was all wrong.

She lowered into a defensive position.  “Who are you?” she demanded.

He held his arms out in an exaggerated shrug.  “Red Hood of course,” he responded loudly.  He shuffled closer to her, his head scoping out the area with less finesse than Jason had.  “Because the streets need to know Hood is around to protect them,” he added on quieter.  He gave her a few seconds to process that before moving a bit closer when it looked like she was starting to understand.  “Even when nobody is protecting him,” he almost whispered.

She eyed him warily but eased back to standing.  “Where is he?” she asked in the same whispered tone.

“Home.  Sick.  Real bad.  Won’t let anybody but me see him,” he rushed out, his head scoping out the area more frantically with that admission.

She looked away as she nodded, all the pieces having fallen into place.  “You’re a good First Lieutenant, Glenn.”

He stood up straighter and she could almost feel his smile beaming through the mask.  “I don’t know about that though,” he leaned close enough despite nobody else being around, making sure to guard his boss’ secrets even when there is no threat.  “Because a good First Lieutenant would do what their boss tells them to do instead of seeking out their boss’ girl to let her know he’s down and out and in desperate need of some care and affection.”

“Thank you, Glenn.  I really appreciate it.”  She smiled softly at him.  Glenn was the epitome of men who do bad to do good, right after Jason, of course.  The perfect person to back up Jason.  She was always impressed with his dedication to Jason and his mission, willing to do everything he could to help, even knowing he couldn’t do as much as Jason did or nearly as well.  It made her worried about him constantly in a way she didn’t have to worry about Jason.

Her smile suddenly dropped into doubt.  “I can maybe send some soup with you…”

“Soup?” He barked

“And bread?” She added quickly but uncertainly.

Glenn stared at her for a few seconds, again his emotions so strong in his every movement, she could feel his disappointed expression through the mask in a way Jason never could.  “Girly, I don’t know what they do back in France, but here, when the person you love is delirious, we take care of them.”

Her eyes instantly dropped to her shuffling feet.  “I don’t know where he lives,” she admitted, her voice coming out strained from the pain it caused to have to admit that.  While they spend multiple nights a week together, and had been doing so for months, it was always at her place.  It was always him showing up at her door or window in the middle of the night after his patrol.  Occasionally, but rarely, joining her on her way home after her patrol.  It was never in his home.  It was a fact she tried very hard not to think too much about.

Glenn pulled away to examine her, staring intently for a few minutes before letting out a deep sigh.  “Not a good lieutenant at all,” he grumbled.  “You got like a piece of paper in that toy?” he asked motioning toward her yoyo.

She looked at him quizzically for a few seconds before shaking her head.  “Um, no, but it has a notepad in it.”  She handed her yoyo to him only after handing it off realizing she was handing her single greatest weapon to the “enemy”, underlining how profoundly she trusted him.

He grumbled under his breath for a few seconds about ‘newfound technology bullshit’ before starting to type something and speaking louder.  “Okay, girly, you didn’t get this from me.  Nobody really knows where he lives but me… and now you.  It’s indecent that he knows where you live but you don’t know where he does.  It’s not right.  It’s the kind of thing people who intend to cheat do.  Not that I’m saying he does, in fact I think he’s the most loyal person I know, but it doesn’t look right.”  He handed her yoyo back to her.  “You can tell him I said that though.  It isn’t right to treat your lady that way.”

Marinette took it back without making eye contact with him.  “I’m not his lady,” she corrected quietly.

“You are,” he responded instantly.  “In all ways that matter, you are.”  He stepped next to her, facing into the distance in the opposite direction from her, and grasped her shoulder in a comfortingly intimate gesture.  “Don’t ever forget that.  In his heart, you are, and that’s the only place that matters.  And right now, no matter what he says, he needs you.”

She looked down, not to hide from him the small smile on her face, which she knew he would know was there regardless, but in amusement.  “I knew he made a good choice in you.  I hope your daughter is doing well.”

He nodded, his eyes growing more distant.  “She is.  Won’t see me.  Doesn’t approve of my work, but it’s enough to know she’s doing good and I have a part in that even if she doesn’t know it.  I do.”

She gave him a kind smile he refused to acknowledge.  “You’re a good man, Glenn.  I’m glad you’re here to help protect him.  And I’m sure she knows you’re not a bad man.”

He scoffed and shook his head.  “You better get going.  Nobody’s checked on him since I brought him something to eat like twelve hours ago that of course he didn’t eat.  And tell him he needs to take more breaks from wearing this thing.  It’s starting to make me schitzofrantic and it’s only been a few hours.”

“Schizophrenic?” she offered.

“Yeah, that thing.  I’m hearing voices, seeing things that aren’t there.  It’s disturbing.”  He shivered dramatically.

She shook her head at him with an affectionate chuckle before taking off.  “Thank you.  Be safe.”

“You too, Ladybug,” he whispered after her.

><><><><><><><><>< 

The room was bleary when Jason finally opened his eyes, but at least the demolition team that had taken residence in his head for God knows how long seemed to have taken a break.  Now his head just seemed a little lighter than the rest of his body, especially since his chest and leg seemed weighed down.  He scrunched his face the longer he considered it.  They really did seem weighed down.

He almost jumped up, trying to break whatever restraints someone was using against him, but only truly succeeded in knocking someone to the floor.  He took a quick assessment of his surroundings, calming slightly when he realized they were in his own apartment.  Whoever it was that had somehow managed to track him down and break through all his security, although clearly good, was on his turf now.

“Really?” a familiar voice questioned from the floor with a groan.

Jason blinked a few times letting the voice ease his tense muscles.  He slowly peeked over the edge of the bed and winced upon seeing the heap of beautiful but pouty woman on the floor.  “Pixie?”

“Good morning, M. Grump,” she huffed, her voice still rough with sleep.  She shot him a heatless glare from her position on the floor, but it melted into a concerned look as she rose up to sit next to him on the bed.  “How are you feeling?”

“Confused,” he answered honestly.  He was still staring at her dumbfounded like he couldn’t be sure he could trust his eyes.

She nodded and pressed her hand to his forehead then cheeks, her shoulders relaxing at the results.  “That’s understandable after being sick for so long.”

He continued to stare at her for a few moments before finally deciding he wasn’t going to be able to puzzle it out on his own.  He had to ask.  “You’re in my apartment.”

“Well, I could hardly take you to mine, could I?” she chuckled lightly.  She said it like it was the most obvious response, but avoided his eyes, and while Ladybug didn’t have many, if any, tells, Marinette had quite a few, including avoiding looking people in the eyes.  She was worried about how he would react to her in his apartment.

“How did y…”  He groaned and fell back onto the pillows.  “I’m going to fire that meddling…”

“You will do no such thing!” she exclaimed, affronted by the very insinuation.  “Glenn was worried about you.”  Her stern expression quickly morphed into a teasing smirk, though the gleam in her eyes would not be described as playful.  “He also wanted me to tell you it’s not proper for you to have kept your place hidden from me for so long.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest with a petulant frown.  “Nosy busybody,” he grumbled.  He cleared his throat gently.  “So, who knows?”  He was trying for nonchalant but the way his eyes had slid over to her without moving his head, so he couldn’t make full eye contact with her betrayed his nerves.

“Nobody,” she shrugged, pretending she hadn’t noticed his avoidance.  She fussed over straightening the sheets which had become rumpled when he shot up.  “None of the bats figured out anything was off.  Your men seemed to be acting normal except Glenn, so there wasn’t much to pick up on.”

He snorted and fell back into the pillows, eyes closed like he was falling back asleep.  After a few seconds he opened them again to shoot her a sly gaze.  “But you did.”

“Of course,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes.

He tilted his head to the side as he watched her, almost like the side smile that spread on his lips was so deep, it threw off his head’s gravity.  “How long have you been here?” he finally asked.

She took a bracing breath before answering, knowing he wouldn’t like the answer.  “Two days.”

“Two days!” he exploded.  He bolted upright and looking around frantically.  He started to get up, but she firmly pushed him back down with an unexpected strength that he wasn’t sure was a result of her determination or his sickness, or a combination of the two.

“Two days,” she confirmed a scowl pulling down her lips.  “Glenn’s been doing a great job covering.  Nobody suspects Red Hood is out of commission.  Your territory is safe.  Your people are protected.  Now lay back down, you big diva.  You’re going to pass out or something and I’m not strong enough to put you back in your bed.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted, trying to bat her hands away so he could remove his sheets and sit up.

“You’re not,” she snapped and held the sheets tighter.

“I’m fine,” he growled back.  His expression twisted into a threatening glower that likely would have terrified his opponents but only exasperated Marinette.

“You’re not,” she growled right back.  “You’ve been in bed for at least the last two days, and I don’t know how long before that.  You’re so weak I can push you around without my suit.  Now stop being such an obtuse boeuf and lay back down.”

He opened his mouth to yell back, his face still dark and menacing, but he froze before any words could make their way out and his face slowly morphed to incredulous instead.  “Boeuf?”

“Boeuf,” she confirmed with a scowl.

“Bull?” he suggested.

“Yes!  No!  Not bull… ox.  Yes, ox.”

He barely contained his snort at how adorable her fierce pout was but acquiesced and laid back down.  “I don’t know if my head can take all this flattery.”

She rolled her eyes but instantly returned her eyes to him with a fond look.  “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Worried about me, Pixie?” he teased.

“Yes,” she responded instantly, earnestly.

He paused and let his eyes trace over her face, concentrating on her eyes.  Gently cupped her face.  “Sorry I worried you.”

She nuzzled into his hand, grateful he had recovered enough that he could touch her that way already, grateful he still wanted to.  It was a feeling she didn’t want to lose, but the events of the past few days had made her scared in more ways than one.  “Why didn’t you call me?  I could have helped from the start.”  She kept her voice from cracking, but it was close.

He let out a long sigh before responding, his fingers tightening in her hair and his palm curling further around her face, like it could keep her there, like she might disappear if he didn’t.  “I didn’t want to burden you,” he finally murmured, his voice thick with honesty.

“Jason, you aren’t a burden.  I like being around you.  I like helping you.  Plus, it’s something a gir…” she stopped abruptly and just as quickly retreated from his touch.

“Something a girlfriend would do?” he finished for her.

“Something a significant other would do,” she corrected pointedly.

“Significant other, not girlfriend.”  It wasn’t a clarification so much as an accentuation.  Underscoring their situation, or more properly, situationship

She ran her fingers along his jaw and down his chest until she laid her hand over his heart.  “That why you never brought me back here?” she asked timidly, her eyes trained on her hand and the way it rose and fell with his breathing.  “That’s a girlfriend thing, not a significant other thing.”

Her hand rose a few more times before he responded.  “Yeah.”

She nodded in understanding.  She’d been expecting that response, but it still hurt.  It still felt like he had shoved his hand into her chest and squeezed.  She started to pull her hand away but his darted out to keep it in its place.  “It’s too real otherwise,” he whispered.  His other hand traced her face like it might be the last time he would get to, like it would be his last chance to feel it.  “When this ends, it will hurt too much.”

Her eyes watered but she didn’t contradict him.  He was right.  They were headed for catastrophe and they both knew it.  Complete ruination.  Mind.  Body.  Soul.  There was no way this ended other than breaking them both completely in ways she couldn’t even imagine yet.

And yet.

She couldn’t walk away.  Neither of them could.  The feeling that rolled through her whenever he touched her was utter euphoria.  Almost as good as the feeling when they finally defeated Hawk Moth.  Maybe better because it was less complicated or bittersweet, more pure.  It was like everything was right and good.  The kind of feeling addicts sacrificed everything for.

It couldn’t last.

“We better enjoy it while we can then,” she whispered as she dropped her head to his chest and let her body down onto his, wrapping around him like she was trying to become one entity.  “Make the climb worth the fall.”

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her up so he could bury his nose in her hair.  “Any time with you is worth any fall,” he murmured, voice only slightly muffled by her hair.

She tightened her grip on him as though she could convey her accord through just her arms.  “Okay,” she enthused with a cheer that didn’t meet her eyes as she stood up, “you continue to rest, and I’ll bring you something to eat.  You have to be starving.  There’s water on your nightstand.”

She scurried out of the room, but before she could cross the threshold, he called out to her.  “Marinette.”  He waited for her to turn before continuing or at least trying to continue.  He opened his mouth but forced himself to close it.  It still wasn’t time.  “Thank you,” he said instead.

She hesitated but nodded with a strained smile before leaving.  “Always.”

[maribatserver]

Tag Team Tournament 2024 - Team Playlists

The Tag Team Tournament is almost upon us! Do you know what team(s) you'll be playing for this year? If you need ideas, we hope that you'll take some time to listen to our Team Playlists! You don't have to use the songs included for the team they were paired with, but we do hope that you'll get ideas from the music chosen!

This Year's Teams:

Spandex Flex - Dickinette Art Couple - Damianette Java Junkies - Timari Book Design - Jasonette Rare Flair - Any Ship Without A Team Three's Company - Poly Ships Lucky Shot - Roynette Seamless Spin - Cassette

We'll start accepting submissions on July 28th, 12:00 AM EST, which is about 15 hours from now. Our mod team is really, really excited, and we hope that all of you are as well! Some of you may have already looked at our Prompt List, and others may be taking the challenge of doing them day by day, but either way we know that whatever you all make is going to be awesome!

How do you participate? Our full Event Guide Document explains everything you need to know, including the rules, submission guidelines, scoring guidelines, ways to earn bonus points, and more! You’ll also find the submission form — only content submitted through this form will be scored for your team, so make sure you read the whole document and fill it out. 

Played Before? Make sure you check over our Event Guide anyway. We changed how our scoring works for certain submissions, as well as for prompts, and we added several new bonuses for this year.

If you're posting on AO3, we have an Event Collection for your fics. If you're posting on Tumblr, make sure to tag your creation with #TTT2024 so we can see it and reblog it here! 

If you’d like to keep an eye on the scores for each team (and maybe tag into a team to help bump them up), check out our Live Tracker for a full list of scored submissions and the most up to date standings for all teams! Special thank you to @nottesilhouette for coding that, by the way.