#i fall into the trap of wanting to give jason nice things so i usually have dick being 'nice' to jason too soon in the story

[bestangelofall]

Good god it's so nice to read Dick & Jason interactions with Dick being super in character but when it's written by someone who doesn't fucking hate Jason and doesn't use Dick as a mouthpiece to bash him 😍

[writtenjewels]

For the ask game you reblogged. Could I request 😊 with Eric and Nick? That’s if you’re okay with writing that pairing of course. Feel free to ignore if not ❤️

Nick was not looking forward to seeing either of the Kings. Unfortunately, they were all trapped in quarantine and there was no avoiding them. The first time they were all brought in together, he chose to sit with Jason and Salim instead. But he kept feeling Rachel and Eric's eyes on him, and he knew he had to rip off the bandage eventually.

He chose to confront Eric first. He didn't know what he was going to say, but the colonel ended up speaking first.

“Hey, I've been meaning to talk to you. I'm sorry about... down there. I should have given you the UV lamp, and I didn't.”

“Huh?” Nick was a little surprised Eric was bringing that up, of all things. “No, it's okay. From what I saw, that thing was broken half the time, anyway.”

“Maybe,” Eric allowed, “but I still should have handed it over. You needed every advantage you could get down there. I let my personal feelings get in the way. It was unprofessional.”

Nick didn't know what to say. He wanted to be relieved Eric was taking this route, but a part of him was annoyed, too. He would have preferred another fist-fight like what they started back in the temple. This just made it easy for him to understand why Rachel would fall in love with the guy.

“It wasn't going to be much of an advantage against a whole swarm of those fuckers,” Nick said at last. “Besides, we all made choices down there that were pretty unprofessional.”

Hell, he'd been the one to insist Rachel make her choice when they were in the middle of a crisis. Even Jason, who usually kept it professional at the right times, had ignored his commanding officer in favor of Salim. That place did shit to them, no question.

“I'm willing to start over,” Eric offered, “if you are.”

“Fuck. You're supposed to be a grade-A asshole,” Nick complained. Eric gave a little smile. Nick let out a huff and shook his head. “Yeah, I'm willing.” Why not? After all they went through, his and Eric's issues felt insignificant.

As if being nice and offering a fresh start wasn't enough, Eric surprised him even more by wrapping his arms around Nick and hugging him. The sergeant froze, too startled to react. When he did, he gave the colonel an awkward pat on the back. Fuck, he got so much wrong about this guy. Eric let him go, giving another faint smile.

“Sorry. In my family, we hug it out after fights.”

“No problem. In my family, we usually go play football.”

“Okay.” Eric chuckled softly. “Then I owe you a game of football.”

Shit. Was Nick starting to like this guy now? That Sumerian temple might not have led to chemical weapons, but it had been dangerous in ways none of them could predict. Dangerous, but maybe... ultimately for their good.

[dairy-farmer]

After Jason and Damian’s murder attempts, Bruce and Dick decide Tim isn’t safe in Gotham.

They hide him in a bunker only they know the location of. Tim goes willingly at first, being assured that this is only temporary while they get the situation under control.

But they won’t let him have access to the internet, or any communication to the outside world. They won’t talk about what’s going on, but they’re with him nearly every day, bringing him fresh food and gifts.

It’s nice. They take care of him. But he wants to know when he can leave.

When he asks, their smiles become strained. They give him hushed money-answers, smoothing down his bedhead and kissing his forehead. Dick likes to hold him in his arms while they watch a movie on the couch. He’s warm, and firm, and Tim usually falls asleep.

They become a little more aggressive with their...conditioning. Bruce will no longer respond to ‘B’, instead demanding ‘Dad’ or, as he suggests to a pink-faced Tim, ‘Daddy’.

Dick insists on being with Tim constantly, often carrying him around the cozy bunker, even washing him in the bath, with Tim situated in his lap, trapped by his broad arms.

Tim realizes they won’t let him leave far too late. They’ll regretfully chain him to the soft bed when he’s being ‘fussy’, telling him that it’s just so that he doesn’t hurt himself while he calms down.

Sometimes, Dick can’t help himself at the sight of it. The cuffs are padded so that they don’t leave marks or pinch his baby brother’s delicate skin. Tim is flushed, panting from the excretion of shouting and trying to wriggle away. His soft t-shirt (one of Dick’s) has ridden up, revealing an adorable, heaving chest.

Dick crawls over him, shushing his confused protests with comforting noises. He holds down Tim’s narrow hips and presses his face into Tim’s stomach, breathing in the smell of soft skin and body wash.

He’d planned to just blow a raspberry, be a little silly, but he sees the pink of a dusky nipple, just barely hidden by fabric, and before he knows it, he’s gently and wetly kissing up Tim’s chest and ribs, sucking marks into that pale skin.

Tim isn’t screaming anymore. His gasps have turned quieter, more strangled, wet-sounding. Dick strains his ears, trying to catch a precious moan.

“Please don’t do this, Dick—“ Tim begs quietly.

Dick raises himself to look down at Tim’s face. Tim hasn’t seen the sun in months, but Dick’s smile is a near-thing. It blocks out everything, even hope.

“Do what?” He asks cheerfully, and bends back down.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i love dark aus where tim realizes that there's something off about his family!!!!!

i always thought that alfred is a pretty difficult character to peg but ultimatly i think that he's pretty firmly an enabler of bruce's and he'd overlook a lot of the 'shady' things he does. so he wouldn't be tim's saving grace in this scenario :(. and since damian and jason both have pretty antagonistic relationships with him they wouldn't look for tim either.

if bruce or dick have come up with a lie like 'tim decided to retire and asked us to help him go into hiding' no one would think to doubt them! sure bruce has a history of deceit but dick? well, a lot of people accept dick's words at face value.

so no one is looking for tim and i think he'd realize it and also realize the kind of deep shit he's in.

he willingly entered a prison he has no way of leaving. his two captors are highly skilled both physically and mentally, and they are actively trying to 'stockholm syndrome' him.

it doesn't look good for him.

dick is the presence that often fills the bunker. tim is certain they have cameras or bugs hooked up so tim's never truly alone but he'd prefer that quiet supervision over dick.

when dick started fucking him tim had been half sure that it would be too far for bruce. after all he always wanted tim to call him daddy, to be this small needy thing that hugs him when he visits him like he's one of those kids in videos of soldier parents coming home.

tim is on his back and dick is moaning, balls deep inside him when bruce walks in. tim tilts his head back, shooting a pleading look at him through the hitches sobs. dick always touches tim in some way, make it feel good so tim's cries are interspersed with moans.

dick takes every opportunity to fuck tim, whispering about how much he loves tim, how he knows they've both wanted this for so long-

tim knows it'd been hopeless but he'd still crossed his fingers when bruce walked in that he'd help him, save him, that he'd make dick stop.

(because tim was disgusted and frightened with how his body reacted, with how much he liked it, with how much it was fucking with his head-)

but instead...bruce watched.

dark eyes and soft hands pushign tim's sweaty bangs back and pressing soft kisses to tim's forehead, asking tim is he was being good for his brother.

tim froze at the words, at the feeling of fingers tugging at strands of his hair as his body was jostled with the force of dick's thrusts.

tim parted his lips...and cried.

bruce made a soft noise and kissed tim's cheeks repeatedly asking 'what's wrong, baby? oh what's wrong timmy? what can daddy do?"

tim just cried harder.

[pinkslashersimp]

hello! how are you doing today? please make sure to grab some snacks and stay hydrated dude!

i really like your take on the characters (esp. the ones i am quite familiar with: micheal, jason, thomas) and i am curious on what you think are the things they would look for in a partner/relationship? (platonic, romantic, anything (including random hc's) + any characters that comes to your mind goes!)

please don't feel pressured to make this an established format either, just do whatever you are comfortable with and whenever! want to consume your thoughts jdhshs. lastly, your flustered!reader x jason piece is adorable ;; and your blog is really cool. hope your day is going well and thank you in advance!

Hi!!! i’m so sorry i didn’t see this until just now i’ve been at college<3 i’m doing really well tysm for asking i hope you’re doing well too💗

Thank you so so much for ur request and feedback it makes me so happy to hear that ur enjoying my work and how i write the characters honestly 😭💗💗💗

This will be me drabbling on and adding some HC as u req as well as Hannibal i hope u enjoy it:)<3

TW: Implications of murder + cannibalism please scroll away if this upsets or triggers you in any way and stay safe🤍

What the slashers would look for in a relationship🌷

Michael Myers (RZ)

For a romantic relationship, I honestly believe he would look for quite a quiet s/o, someone who wouldn’t scream so much like his victims do and who would let him enjoy comfortable, loving silences whilst cuddling or holding hands. Somebody who could softly whisper to him about their day or gingerly rant to him about someone who pissed them off earlier (whom he’ll take care of later.) I personally believe he’d greatly enjoy those tender, silent moments of simply gazing into each other’s eyes and tenderly holding each other.

He wouldn’t care about his s/o’s appearance at all. Love goes beyond appearance.

Poor mikey just wants some moments of calm with the person he loves.

Definitely enjoys delicately taking his s/o by the arm and drawing them into him, holding them close to his chest and rubbing circles into their lower back with his thumb.

Honestly think he would be very shy with kissing at first, would much prefer to kiss his s/o atop their head or hand during the first few months of dating.

Enjoys his s/o’s cooking very much.

Tries his absolute hardest to cook for them too, granted, it doesn’t go very well but he tries his best and is extremely happy when they tell him it tastes good.

For a platonic relationship I think he’d like someone a little louder, anyone who takes risks and is willing to try new things, even if that comes at a price.

Someone to be his getaway driver.

And maybe even his cleanup crew.

Jason Voorhees

Jason would definitely look for someone with a sweet parental role as his partner. He loves his mother dearly and therefore believes his s/o should hold the same values she did. Much similar to Michael, he wouldn’t care about what his s/o looks like. If they’re good to him that’s enough reason to fall heavily in love.

Enjoys the quiet moments too, hes heard enough screaming and yelling from camp counsellors he doesn’t need a loud s/o to come home to. But, he does enjoy when they get really happy about something and start quickly and excitedly telling him about it. It makes him melt<3

Is very insecure about his s/o leaving him and will become very very clingy at times.

Enjoys picking his s/o up and carrying them around camp. It gives him a nice sense of control and it’s too dangerous for them to wander camp ground when there are traps laid around.

Likes holding his s/o’s face and trailing over their soft skin with his fingertips.

Will place his hand on his s/o’s lower back when he’s guiding them somewhere.

To become friends with someone would be extremely rare, usually Jason kills whoever enters camp grounds without a second thought into who they are as a person. All he can think about is protecting the camp and his mother.

So, in the same way as his s/o, his friend would have to reflect motherly traits. Being nurturing and soft spoken but strict at times.

The only way he’d pick a friend or s/o is by luck. And you’d better hope you have some if hes after you.

Thomas Hewitt

In an s/o Thomas would absolutely without a doubt look for someone who seems as if they don’t have a mean bone in their whole body. The poor boy has been taunted, ridiculed, and insulted his whole life. He would never want an s/o who would treat him the same way Hoyt does.

Definitely looks for someone who is very soft spoken and gentle with their words and touch. The way they tenderly care for their friends and how each word softly escapes their mouth entrances Tommy immediately.

Would go for someone shorter than him, the size difference makes him feel masculine and good about himself, and he enjoys being able to scoop his s/o up at any chance he gets to take them somewhere else in the house.

Big fan of hand holding. Loves to see how his hand engulfs his s/o’s much smaller one.

Hates the idea of his family getting their hands on his s/o, so he keeps them by his side at all times. Including if hes in the basement chopping “meat.”

He never ever wants them to leave.

I think it would be quite difficult to spark a friendship with Thomas if you’re a potential victim.

He would ideally like someone who understands his position, and will tell him they understand and feel sorry for him but he isn’t so easily swayed.

Maybe he’d keep them alive out of pity and out of loneliness. A nice basement friend.

Hannibal Lecter

Definitely looks for someone as sophisticated and high class as him.

But also secretly loves a daredevil who takes high risks and talks loud. Especially someone he can feed “special meat��� to. Or someone he can take to “take care of a friend.”

He just wants a murder s/o. tbh.

Loves taking his s/o to expensive restaurants just to flex his money and show off how classy he is.

Buys his s/o expensive jewellery and clothing and offers to help them try it on.

Big fan of long hugs, not a fan of cuddling unless it’s to get to sleep.

Pretends to be offended when his s/o doesn’t like his tastes in wine because he knows they find it funny.

In a friend I know he’d want somebody like Will. Someone clever, sarcastic, and joking. Someone he knows he can connect emotionally to and look after. Somebody he can share his “special hobbies and interests” with.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 6 – Everything Happens in Its Own and Usually Most Inconvenient Possible Time

Chapter 1     Chapter 5

The gala was going better than anticipated.  Despite feeling like she stuck out like weed in a field of flowers, things seemed to be going well.  Marinette had talked with more people than she could remember and they all seemed to walk away happily and interested in her work except for a few pompous assholes who couldn’t keep their eyes off her growing chest.  Admittedly, she was showing more cleavage than she anticipated, but she was blaming that on the baby that was enlarging her chest already.

Luckily, she had Adrien to watch out for her and keep them from doing anything more than just look. More importantly, Tim seemed impressed with her designs for the gala and could pick out the outfits that were hers. That was two big checks for the night. The rest of her life might be going to hell, but at least this night was going smoothly.

Whereas she felt like she was an imposter in the ranks, Adrien seemed to blend into the crowd seamlessly. Laughing sensibly at the right times, sharing knowing looks that confused Marinette with the other party goers, smiling politely at the right bad jokes.  He led her to the right people to get to know and whispered in her ear the right things to say to them.

She watched Adrien flourish and felt a twinge of guilt.  This was the product of his dad.  She was benefitting from Gabriel’s abuse toward Adrien.  She grabbed Adrien’s arm to get his attention and looked up at him with sad eyes.  He gave her a soft smile and excused them politely from the conversation they were in. “It’s okay, Mari.  I’m okay,” he assured her.  He looked back out to the crowd.

“How about a fun one next?” he urged her.  

Marinette gave him a halfhearted smile and nodded.  If he could do this then so could she.  He was doing this for her.  She could hold up her end.  She nodded and smiled politely at people as she passed.  One woman lit up at her so Marinette stopped to talk to her, letting Adrien continue on without her.  After a very amusing conversation with a breath of fresh air named Selina Kyle, Marinette searched for Adrien in the crowd.  Luckily, he hadn’t wandered too far away.  She caught his attention and he turned to her with a wide smile.

“And this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette, this is Richard Grayson.”

Marinette looked over to the new man, still trying to keep all the names of people she had met already. There were too many names.  There was no way she was going to remember this new person’s name.  She looked in the new man’s eyes… familiar eyes and a familiar but strained smile. Why were those eyes familiar? “Fuck…” Marinette let out before she could stop herself.

Adrien froze.  Richard froze.  That name wasn’t right.  That definitely wasn’t the name he had given her.  Did he give her a fake name?  

“Uh, hi.” Dick offered with a strained smile.  “It’s nice to meet you. Dick Grayson.”  He wasn’t sure what their relationship was, but if she was in a relationship with Adrien, he wasn’t going to intentionally destroy it despite the twinge in his heart. That would explain the hasty exit from his apartment though.

“He is Bruce Wayne’s son,” Adrien gently reminded her, “Tim’s brother.”  

“Fuck!” Marinette groaned out louder. Tears were starting to appear in her eyes.  This could not be happening.  Not here.  Not now. She was not prepared for this conversation.  She was supposed to be networking for her job, for the partnership and her store. She did not have time for this!  Why now.  Why after all their searching and attempts to retrace her steps did it have to happen now?

He was Tim’s brother and Bruce Wayne’s son.  One of, if not the richest man in the world and the current holder of her exclusive contract.  Dick was going to hate her.  He was going to think she trapped him into this.  He was going to think she was a manipulative bitch who shouldn’t be allowed to raise children and take the baby away and never let her see it.  She would only get to see him or her or them whenever Richard took them out in public.  The baby was going to get a new mother and would call her ‘Maman’.  And what if that new mom didn’t like having a stepchild?  What if she didn’t love them like they deserved?  What if they thought Marinette didn’t want them?

“Are you okay?” Adrien asked quietly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marinette exclaimed shaking her hands to release anxiety.  She could no longer breathe and tears were starting to gather in the corner of her eyes.

“Mari?” Adrien looked between Marinette and Richard a few times before a realization set in.  “Oh my God.  He said his name was Dick.  It’s him! It’s ladybug shirt guy!” He said with a smile.  “We found him!  I’m telling Chloe.  She is going to die.”

“No!” Marinette jumped at him to grab his phone, attracting the attention of the people around them. But at this point, Marinette no longer cared.  She had more important things to focus on.

“Well, I have more mingling to do and you,” he pushed Marinette toward Dick hard enough for her to stumble and Dick to reach out and steady her, “have some talking to do.  Good luck.  I won’t go too far.  Let me know if you need me… for anything...”  He looked at Marinette sincerely with his last statement before giving Dick a less friendly look.  “… anything at all.”

Marinette looked up at Dick through her lashes.  Her fear was radiating out of her and it made Dick want to wrap her up and hold her until she smiled.  “How… how have you been?”

Marinette looked around them noticing now close everyone was and a few people who were leaning back expressly to eavesdrop.  She eyed them warily and responded loudly enough for them to hear, “We haven’t caught up in a bit.  Let’s go somewhere and talk where the music isn’t so loud.”

Dick followed her eyes and nodded, leading her out of the ballroom and into the closed section of the manor.  He could feel the apprehension as she walked, making him nervous as well.  He didn’t know what was about to happen but he could tell it was significant.  He just didn’t know if it was good significant or bad significant.

“We should be good here. Nobody but family is allowed back here.” He looked around anxiously as if to confirm, but really it was just something for him to do, something to focus on besides her.  “I was hoping to talk to you after… after that night but realized I didn’t get your number.  I tried going back to the club to look for you, but...”

“It closed.  Yeah… I tried going back to the club, too.” Dick brightened up at that.  She had searched for him too.  It wasn’t just him that wanted to try for something more.  “I wanted to maybe just show up at your door, but I think I was still drunk when I left and…,” she scrunched up her face in uncertainty, “I saw all the weapons on the counter and when I heard you waking up in the bedroom, I just ran.  I didn’t pay attention to where I was.  And then I thought about the weapons and thought… maybe I shouldn’t.”

The realization hit Dick and he cursed under his breath.  He was going to kill Jason.  “My brother is paranoid, Jason not Tim, who you apparently know.  Living in Gotham is bad enough but he… we get targeted a lot so he… those were his weapons, not mine.  I swear.  None of them were mine and they normally aren’t even there, I just wouldn’t let them take them to the club,” he rushed out to try to assure her.  

Her eyes searched his. He held his breath praying she found what she was looking for, or not finding it, depending on the question she was trying to answer.  Whichever answer let him talk to her again, he hoped she found it.  After a few moments, she must have found some answer because she gave him a weak smile and nodded slightly.  Dick let out the breath he had been holding.  She didn’t seem entirely convinced, but Dick would take it. He could work with it if she gave him a chance.  He nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  Now he had a chance, what was he going to do with it?  “So… how have you been?”

“Pregnant,” Marinette answered quickly, instantly regretting not saying it more sensitively, easing him into the realization.  She had freaked out, it stood to reason that he would as well.

Dick’s eyes widened in shock and his breath shortened.  He looked down to her belly and back up to her face.  A look of panic was plastered on his face.  He was not ready.  How did it even happen?  He thought they had used precautions.  And he had provided the condom and put it on so it wasn’t as though she could have sabotaged anything.  Holy shit! He was going to be a dad.  How was he going to balance that?  How was he going to be a dad and Nightwing? Shit!  He couldn’t take care of himself.  How was he supposed to take care of a child?  He was pretty sure they ate more than cereal.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette rushed out seeing his whole body going into shock.  “I’m so very, very sorry!  I swear I don’t expect anything.  I don’t… I didn’t… This wasn’t on purpose.  I swear!  I wasn’t trying to get pregnant.” Tears were now freely falling down her cheeks and marring her dress.  Thank God she had waterproof mascara but the water stains were still making their mark.

“How…”

She chuckled mirthlessly. “Did you know semen leaks out before the… end?  Cuz’ I didn’t.” She wiped tears away as she spoke.  “Or rather I did, I just didn’t think it was enough to do anything.  But, if you’re truly lucky, that’s enough.  So if you wait to put a condom on until just before… the end, you can still get pregnant.”

“And you… you’re sure…” He didn’t know how to ask the question tactfully.

She drew a sharp breath and looked down wiping away a few more tears.  “Yeah.  I… I broke up with my boyfriend a little under a year ago.  There… um… there hasn’t been anyone else since then.”  

He nodded dumbly.  That was pretty conclusive.  Unless there was a sudden case of immaculate conception going on, that was his baby.  “Okay.”

She turned her eyes to him, her expression somber.  “I didn’t… I don’t expect you to do anything, not participation, not child support, nothing. I just… I thought you deserved to know even if you don’t want to be involved and I understand if this is too much for you.”

Dick looked up at her in surprise.  She was giving him an out.  She wasn’t expecting him to be a dad and help take care of them.  But for some reason, that realization only made his heart clench tighter.  Did he want an out?  Did he want to miss out on his child’s upbringing?  All of their firsts?  Their first step.  Their first summersault.  Their first word.  Their first laugh.  Their first breath.  

He didn’t.  He didn’t want to miss out on those things.  He pulled himself out of his spiral to see Marinette starting to turn away to leave.  He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could get too far away and pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.  “I want to be involved.  I want to be there.  I want to help.”  She froze for a few seconds before hugging him back just as strongly.  Her crying increased in his arms and he held her through it.  He wouldn’t let her go through any part of this alone, not anymore.

“I don’t know what you need, but I want to help provide it for you and… and our baby,” he said gently, pulling away just enough to wipe away her tears.  

She nodded at him, turning her eyes up to match his.  Dick felt his chest tighten.  Her eyes were glassy with tears but still gorgeous and captivating.  He moved the hand wiping the tears to cup her face. His thumb gently stroked her cheek. He leaned down toward her but her hand clasped over her lips before his lips could reach them, blocking his way. Her eyes bugged out and she ran to the trash can before throwing up.

“Oh my god,” she groaned, collapsed on the floor next to the trash can.  “And morning sickness has officially begun.  And it’s early.  Just so much luck.”  She looked up at him with an apologetic smile.  “Sorry you had to see that.”

Dick chuckled lightly, “Well, I did want to be there for all the firsts.  Come on,” he gently grabbed her hands to help her up, “let’s get you some water to rinse out your mouth and cleaned up a bit.  If you want to stay, I’d love to escort you around.  If you’d like to go home and rest, I’d love to take you home.  If you want to go somewhere and talk, I’d love to take you wherever you want.  But either way, can I get your phone number… and last name?  I want to help figure things out with you.  Maybe… if you’re interested… maybe go on a first date?  If you want to try for a relationship…. I mean… I understand if you don’t want to risk…”  

His stuttering cut off when she started giggling.  He looked up to match her eyes, a look of hope finally finding their way back into them. “I would really like that, too. And it’s Dupain-Cheng.  Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  It’s nice to officially meet you, Dick Grayson.”

Chapter 7

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje

[missysvault]

Playing with Food

Summary: “Now: movies with me or leave me alone?” It’s Halloween and you want to watch your cheesy movie marathon in peace. Missy has other ideas.

Warnings: NSFW. Blood is mentioned, it’s present in a sexy way, but also serves a functional purpose on account of Missy being a blood-sucking creature, MIHOW

Word Count: 2970

A/N: Yes I know it’s mid-November.. Yes you’re still getting this vaguely October themed fic, I just wanted to write Missy as a vampire

The TARDIS should not be as dark as it was. Usually it was well-lit and easy to navigate, sympathetic to your poor sense of direction. Tonight though it wound endlessly and you were sure you were lost; you hoped someone would find you before you got in too deep. “Poppet, what are you up to all the way back here?” So this was her fault. The tone of Missy’s voice told you there was no way she’d just innocently come across you. Sometimes when she wanted a captive audience she’d get you so disoriented you had to rely on her to get back to a familiar area- it happened at least once a month. 

“If you wanted to play hide and seek, I would’ve liked to be told first.” You turned to face her, but she was much closer than expected and you stumbled back against one of the many doors on the wall. She was on you in a second, arms boxing you in on either side; you were a little taller than her, but she was by far stronger. Missy had you in her grasp as soon as she’d laid eyes on you.  Her teeth shone in the dark hallway, just barely reflected with the wall-mounted candlelight. Of course, she’d bother you on Halloween with her hunger, how appropriate. “Moreso, just ask if you want to bite me.” 

Missy’s face dropping into an exaggerated frown, making a disappointed noise. “Oh you’re no fun. Fine, let me bite you.” She said it matter-of-factly, not even bothering to make it sound like a request. If she was quick with it, you wouldn’t have minded, but theatrical as she was, Missy was determined to always make a long show of it and tonight, for once, you had plans. 

“No, Missy, I’m busy.” There was a movie marathon calling your name tonight and being late was not on the agenda. In a moment of boldness, you tried to escape her cage, but to no avail. One strong hand shoved you brutally back into the door, the heel of her palm digging into your abdomen with so much force you knew she was bruising you. “That hurts-“

“And being rejected hurts. We’re in the same boat.” She was being a child, most likely because she hadn’t eaten in a while. She did look a little bit more pale than normal, but her strength was clearly still present so it couldn’t be too bad, still enough to make her irritable. “I am letting you live here even though you’re no help to me,” Missy stepped forward, pressing her body to yours and sandwiching you between her and the door, “The least you could do is help me once in a while.” Her fingers ran over your neck, checking your pulse, all the while staring deep into your hesitant eyes. How dangerous she looked shouldn’t have been as arousing as it was and yet...

You sighed, trying to play off much cooler than you were. She’d never hurt you out of malice, but what she was capable of always stuck in your mind whenever the two of you butt heads. “We both know that’s untrue.” Missy wouldn’t let you touch anything critical without supervision if you’d tried, but she enjoyed your presence and so did the TARDIS. She was the one to ask you to stay. “Would you like to come watch cheesy 80’s Halloween movies with me, Missy?” Maybe you could distract her long enough to get through a film or two if you held out long enough. Your arms wound around her waist despite her hand still painfully pinning you to the closed door; sometimes a hug softened her for a short moment. The bared teeth grin on her face no longer scared you for things such as this; she had the complex of a small dog. 

“What I would like is to mark up that pretty neck of yours.” Missy’s gaze fixed to your throat, seemingly entranced, slowly moving forward until her mouth was at the base of your neck. Her tongue marked out the exact spot she sought to feast on, she did bite, digging into your skin until you were whimpering, helplessly caught between her and the door, but you never felt the sharpest of her teeth. “I could've been done by now.” 

“You wouldn’t unless I say you can,” you wheezed, clinging to whatever resolve you had left. Determined as she was, she’d bide her time until you gave into her willingly. It tastes infinitely sweeter that way, Missy always claimed. You didn’t know if that were true, but it certainly gave you some leeway in persuading her to wait. 

Missy pulled away, her face still too close to be read properly, but the challenge was clear on her face, “Yes I would.” This back and forth game amused you; maybe you could have more fun than just your traditional movie night alone. It was Halloween after all, some new entertainment would be a treat. Missy faltered for a split second and you gave one good push back against her and thankfully, her hand eased long enough for you to move more freely. 

“No, Miss, you wouldn’t.” Hand fully out of your stomach, you pushed off of the wall with Missy still in your grasp. With a small kiss pressed into her hair, you released her and took a few steps backwards down the hallway until you were a safe distance away, not daring to break eye contact with her. “Now: movies with me or leave me alone?” You were being braver than usual and you didn’t know why, perhaps the late hour made you more ambivalent to Missy’s threats, but why she was letting you get away with it was a bigger mystery. One thing you loved about Missy is how plain emotions read on her face. It took awhile for her to open up to you in such a way, but now you could read her like a book and when her expression mellowed from irate to complacent, you knew you had her for at least a bit. “Is it a movie then?” She stalked past you without a word and you followed, knowing she’d find your room faster than you could. 

You only expected to watch one movie with her; she wasn’t obligated to watch an entire marathon deep into the night, especially with how harshly she judged them. “Why is she running towards the lake?” You sighed and slumped down, resting your head on her chest. Missy was nice enough to insist you lay on her while you two binged the constant stream of cheesy 80s horror and you certainly weren’t one to ever protest that.

“Why are you still watching if you’re so upset?” It wasn’t that the movies were good, per se, but they were in season and you watched them every year, just for tradition. Usually it was a solo activity, free from criticism, but this year you’d spent more and more time with Missy and after your latest harrowing adventure, she’d convinced you to stay aboard the TARDIS with her a while longer and before you knew it, October was upon you. You’d missed out on a lot of things this year for her, but this was one event you could still enjoy and you thought sharing this with her might be nice. “No one’s forcing you here.” 

Missy groaned, her head hitting the headboard as it fell backwards. “I can’t spend time with my little human? I didn’t know how badly you wanted me gone.” Her hurt voice made you wary, of course you wanted her around. Hardheaded as she could be, you did love her. 

“It’s not that, Miss, I just… watching these every year means a lot to me.” You craned your neck to press a kiss to the arm she’d draped over your chest hours ago, patting her soft skin lazily with a gentle hand. “I am enjoying watching them with you though, no matter how much you say you hate them.” 

Missy huffed, but pulled you into her nonetheless, kissing the top of your head. “Maybe I don’t despise them…but they are taking your attention away from me.” She nuzzled her nose into your hair, calm and sweet as opposed to the young teens being slashed at on screen. Missy would never say it, but spending time with someone else was a big reason she’d asked you to stay; you’d heard her talking to the Doctor about how lonely travel could get, especially when gone for long stretches of time. You’d missed her when she set off for what was supposed to be quick, but ended up as five months and when she asked you to come with her again, you did, not wanting to chance losing her again. Watching dated horror movies wasn’t together wasn’t top on the list of things you’d expected to do while aboard, but you wouldn’t complain. 

Once the third movie started though, it seemed all bets were off. It was innocent cuddling at first, giving you gentle squeezes every once in a while and whispering funny Jason Vorhees jokes into your ear whenever the film tried to be too dramatic, but she had ulterior motives. Once she judged your guard lowered enough, Missy slid her hand over your inner thigh, rubbing in small circles with her thumb in a way she knew all too well you had a weakness for. This was her game; she’d waited for hours until you were sleepy, effectively weakened from laying securely in her arms all evening, poised and ready for the perfect time to strike- and you’d fallen right into it. Asking her to sit through a movie she had no interest in, why would she ever agree. No, she was interested in you or really, what you could provide for her. The hand not poised for attack at your hips now held your upper body securely against her where it had once been a lazy, comforting hold and as you tried to push yourself up and wiggle away, you realized you were effectively caught. “You can’t be serious.” 

“Serious as a funeral, my darling.” Her mouth still rested behind the shell of your ear and you could feel her predatory grin as she slipped past the stretchy waistband of your loose sweatpants. “Now, I’ve indulged you in your little Halloween fun, I think it’s my turn now, don’t you?” Mostly you were mad at yourself for falling into yet another one of her traps; you thought you’d diverted her, maybe that she’d given in and that was your fault. It was all you could do to try and focus on the television, but even there teens were hiding away in a barn to make out despite the murderer still on the loose. “Maybe if I take you out to a secluded lake like them, I could have you all to myself. Wouldn’t that be nice?” 

You rolled your eyes noncommittally, much too distracted with how she was bunching your shirt into her hand, exposing your nipples to the cold air. “No, you only have me on a spaceship floating throughout the galaxy, too many other people to daydream about here.” Missy would drop you off in the middle of nowhere just to keep you to herself and the concept was way too appealing. 

“And yet you wouldn’t give me what I wanted,” she tsked, grabbing at your breast and rolling the tight bud under the cool pad of her thumb. “How disappointing.” It was awful really, how quickly and efficiently Missy could manipulate you like you were her own treasured piano. Your friends, Bill especially, would laugh if they saw how easily you folded for someone you were so heavily warned about, but it was worth it. “And here I thought you’d be my good girl.” 

“Missy-” She cut you off with a tug on the ear with her teeth, making you hiss. Movie all but forgotten, you wiggled under her, trying to shift your hips against her fingers to no avail, whimpering to an unsympathetic ear. She pinched hard at your flesh as a warning and you stopped squirming immediately. “Please? I’ll be good, promise.” You tilted your head to lock eyes with her, pleading silently for her to finally touch you properly and meeting only a borderline sadistic smile, you knew all was going according to her plan. 

Her fingers went wandering down your abdomen, a gentle touch turned harsh as she scratched her blunt nails back up, leaving bright red lines and spotty drops of blood in their wake. “Pleasee, I’ll be good, promise.” Missy was mocking you, taunting your change of tune from earlier that evening; she did that when she was particularly unforgiving, mocked you for giving into her. “You, dear girl, are lucky that I’m so nice.” Not the word you’d use to describe being lured into a trap with short-term domestic bliss, but nevertheless, you shuddered when she grabbed you through your underwear and as hard as you thought about putting up a fight, the idea of just melting into Missy and letting her take you over for however long she wanted was so hard to resist. So you didn’t. “Open up for your mistress, dear.” 

You did as she said, parting your legs to a sugar laced that’s a good pet that had you wetter than you’d ever admit and lithe finger slid past elastic fabric and over slick folds. “Don’t you ever get tired of getting exactly what you want?” It didn’t sound nearly as daring as you’d like, but it was all you could manage. A singular sure fingertip circled around your clit, teasing until your thighs twitched for her.

“Hmm..” Missy pondered, tapping her fingertips against you as you thought, “nope!” She slammed into you, two fingers deep, giggling at your surprised yelp as she stretched you with her curling digits. “Quite love it this way.” You bent your knees, planting your feet into the mattress for any kind of purchase against the sudden rapid assault below. There was no need for teasing tonight; Missy had you where she needed, now she wanted you riled and wanton, begging for her as soon as humanly possible and it wouldn’t take her long at all. 

In a matter of moments you were breathless, on the verge of collapse, clinging to Missy’s legs on either side of you, aching for her presence to ground you even as she mercilessly thrust into you. “Missy, I am begging you, just please-“ She expertly wrenched every moan and cry you could offer her, reveling in the power she held over you, but she wasn’t done yet. 

“Ooh, desperate now, are we?” Soft lips grazed over your neck, calm and cool where your blood pumped hot and fast, trying desperately to keep up. “Let me taste you and I’ll give you whatever you could possibly want.” You knew you were going to let her; it was a matter of when instead of if, especially as she held your orgasm in her hands. There was a pain that came with it, you knew from experience, but it was worth it for the thrill that came right after. Missy didn’t bite you often for your own good, she didn’t need to anyways, but when she wanted to, well, she always found a way. “I’ll clean up after, no mess this time.” Occasionally she left you bloody simply for the aesthetic of it all and you complained of ruined clothes and sheets, but honestly tonight you didn’t care either way. 

Your nod was barely there, easily could’ve been mistaken for just a twitch, but she understood. With a reverent kiss over the hickey she’d made in the hallway hours before, sharp fangs pressed into the thin skin of your neck, piercing with the swift accuracy of a needle. It hurt just like you remembered, but Missy was shushing you before you could cry out, cupping your head with her free hand, thumb brushing over your flushed cheek as an implied I love you while she held you close against her mouth. You were coming before you realized, overwhelmed with the combined rush of endorphins from her bite and the orgasm she tore mercilessly from your body. It should be impossible to feel this blissful, possessed, and so deeply wanted at the same time and yet… You made a passing note to your future self that you didn’t know why you ever resisted this at all- but then you realized she was forever intent on taking every ounce she could from you before you passed out. “You’re going to kill me…” 

She would never, not really. The first time you agreed, you were sure she’d quite literally bleed you dry, but she was careful, always in tune to when you’d given enough. Missy pulled away as you came down from your high, the dreaded sting on your neck promptly soothed over by her wet tongue. “Don’t be dramatic, you’re fine. I could do a lot more.” And she could, but she loved you and you amused her so she wouldn’t. If you had more control you’d reach to kiss those blood red lips, but you felt akin to a pile of jelly and it was all you could do to hazily smile in her general direction. Thankfully, Missy was aware how ‘lovey’ you could be and pressed her lips to yours, granting you a purposely messy kiss. You could feel her grin before she pulled back, fingers also slipping from you and placing them on your lips. She tapped your wet, parted lips until you let her in, sucking on instinct. “Be a good girl and suck, maybe I’ll let you come again.”

[wellthatjusthappend]

hey do you think you can write something where Dick is touch starved bc the members of the batfamily are not that into giving or receiving comforting touch like hugs so he's feeling awful and acting kind of distant with the other bats bc he doesn't really want to bug them by asking for a hug and it's Jason that notices something is wrong and ends up giving it to him

Dick being touch starved is my jam. Especially when I get to give him what he needs. 

Man, this prompt got away from me a little, I meant to do a small fill but, well, now you can read it here or on Ao3.

--

“What the hell is going on with Dickhead?” Jason grumbled. He’d totally cashed Jason’s case recently, and nearly bit off Jason’s head when he made a sarcastic quip. 

Usually, that meant that something had happened, but Jason had dug around after hadn’t found anything other than a slow and steady escalation of violence the last several weeks. Seemingly from no cause. 

There had to be something Jason was missing. Not that he cared or anything, but if Golden Boy was falling off the edge he needed to get ready. Or maybe he was just being nosy. Both were Bruce approved approaches. 

Jason frowned as on screen Dick let several punches land that he could have avoided and choose to punch back rather than use his sticks. 

“Ah, Dick is fasting again?” hummed Kori, coming to curl up next to Jason like a cat, her hair winding and winding itself around them in a way that still a little uncanny as it was soothing. 

“Fasting?” Jason asked with a frown, “Like, skipping meals and stuff?” 

“From love,” Kori corrected him, “and from touch. He needs it like food, but sometimes he chooses to deprive himself of both for long periods of time. He would get like this from time to time as a Titian. Quick to pick a fight and extra physical when he did… violence is the only touch he allows himself during this time, so he seeks it out constantly.”

That… tracked. 

“Yeah… Bruce would have us believe that none of us needed things like that,” Jason murmured, watching Dick wrestle another small time crook to the ground and punching him repeatedly. 

“But you know better now, don’t you?”

Sometimes. But other times… Jason could sympathize with Dick’s plight a little too easily, and physical touch wasn’t even his love language.

“How’d you used to get him to snap out of it?” Jason asked. 

“Make love to him all night long,” Kori replied, her eyes going distant. 

“Ah.” Jason knew he was flushing a bit. 

“Or, sometimes Wally or the others would insist on a movie night and coax him into a spot close between everyone’s bodies,” Kori said, a faint, sad smile on her face. 

That was probably no little feat when Dick was hellbent on acting like a mini Bruce. 

“Sounds nice,” he said, rather than unload all the mean and bitter commentary in his head. It wasn’t like he had someone to do that for him back then. 

“This is nice too,” Kori rested her head on his shoulder, “with you and Roy.”

“...Yeah. It is.”

*****

Jason couldn’t stop thinking about it as the week went on. How he ever ended up with nonviolent touch in his life and Dick didn’t, Jason didn’t know. 

Maybe that was why he was outside Dick’s doorstep now. 

“What?” Dick answered his door. He looked terrible; dark shadows under his eyes, his skin a little pasty. 

“No hello? I’m hurt Dickiebird.”

“Hello. What are you doing here?” Dick said, already looking annoyed. 

Jason wished he knew.

“Brought over some extra food. You look like you haven’t had anything but takeout in a while, so…. You want it?” Jason held up the bag to show him.

“You brought food,” Dick stated, looking suspicious, “Why?”

“I just said I made extra, keep up Dickhead,” Jason shot back.

He was no good at this. He should have just bothered Wally into visiting. Someone who could get away with a casual hug.

Jason was not much of a hugger, casual or otherwise. He wasn’t too touchy-feely in general and he didn’t know why he was there… but since he was there he wasn’t going to be driven away so easily. 

“Did Bruce send you here?” Dick demanded. 

“Bold of you to think Bruce can make me do anything,” Jason retorted.

Dick seemed to accept that. As he should. 

“Fine, whatever, just… you didn’t drug it, right?” Dick asked as he moved out of the way and let Jason inside.

“Who the fuck do you think I am, Alfred? If I was gonna drug you, I would slip it into your delivery, not some home cooked meal,” Jason scoffed.

It was really messy. It made Jason’s fingers itch for some cleaning supplies, but that wasn’t why he was there.

“Home cooked?” Dick’s eyebrows raised curiously.

“Curry,” Jason said, pulling out the containers from the bag in the little spot on the table not covered in case files, “I always thought it tasted better the day after anyway.”

“Did you make this?” Dick hesitantly came over, curiosity seeming to win out over defensive aggression.  

“Who else would have?” Jason rolled his eyes, “here, heat this up will you?”

He passed over a container of rice. Their fingers brushed and Dick’s hand spasmed for a moment. 

Jason didn’t comment. He knew what that was like. Going so long without any kind of touch that the slightest brush of skin felt like getting electrocuted. 

“Why me?” Dick asked, hurriedly turning his back to him and fiddling with the microwave.

Because you need it. 

“Oh, you know, if your ass gets any skinnier, the community will collapse on itself. Can’t have that,” Jason said breezily instead. 

“What a saint.” 

“Right? They should put me up in the little chapel on 5th St. I’ve already died and everything, I’m totally qualified,” Jason said, then changed the subject, “You have a toaster oven?”

“Why would I have a toaster oven?” Dick grumbled. 

“Because they’re damn useful? Never mind, I’ll just use the oven,” Jason said, nudging Dick out of the way so he could reach the nobs. It wouldn’t need too much, it was just to lightly heat the naan. 

“Are you eating here too?” Dick asked hesitantly. 

“Might as well, it’s dinner time,” Jason shrugged. 

Dick didn’t say anything to that. This time when Jason passed him the next container to heat, he didn’t flinch when their hands met, but he pulled away much more hesitantly. 

This part felt a little unnatural for Jason, because he… didn’t really let people touch him who weren’t super close to him. And he and Dick- they just weren’t. It wasn’t bad, per-say, just decidedly uncomfortable. 

He wasn’t planning to let that show though. 

Jason bullied Dick into bantering with him as they prepped the rest of the food, all the while finding reasons to brush up against him. Let their hips touch when he checked the heat on the food, a hand on Dick’s arm to move him out of the way to open the oven, steading his hands as he stacked plates and utensils into his arms. 

Dick was mostly past the shockieness and onto the needy phase by the time they got to actually eating the food. It felt a little manipulative to sit down right next to him on the couch while they ate so their legs and arms could casually brush every now and then. 

The nice thing was that Jason didn’t have to initiate anymore. Now that Dick had figured out that he wasn’t going to be pushed away and that Jason was pretending not to notice, he was pressing close with every possible excuse. As he did, he chattered away about this and that, a slight nervous jiggle of his leg. 

It was strange, like watching someone slowly come alive again. Like a dry plant perking up at the first taste of water. Jason wanted to somehow give him even more, but he didn’t know how. So he just stayed close.

Dick didn’t ask him to leave when they finished their food, so he didn’t. 

Jason turned on the TV.

It was funny, Dick’s commentary slowly started to die down as his eyes started to drupe. 

“Maybe I really should have drugged you food, when’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?” Jason noted, reaching over to touch his forehead. He was a little warm, but not too bad. 

“When’s the last time you did?” Dick shot back, but his eyes dropped closed under his hand and he didn’t push him away. 

It felt a little too intimate for Jason though, so he pulled away. Dick swayed forward a little when he moved, like a part of him want to chase his touch. 

He probably did. 

Jason looked away and shrugged, trying to remember what they had been talking about. Sleep. Right. 

“I actually do these days, Roy or Kori kick my butt if I don’t,” he said. 

“They take good care of you,” Dick said softly. 

“They do,” Jason agreed, his chest feeling a little warm at the thought. 

“Good,” Dick said, his expression distant as he turned back to the TV. 

Jason wondered if he missed them, but didn’t ask. Dick couldn’t have burned those bridges any better if he’d tried. 

They watched TV silently for a while, Dick’s finger tracing patterns on his own leg, back and forth and back and forth. 

Jason felt an impulse to grab his hand, but pushed it down. That wasn’t them. Roy and Kori must have been rubbing off on him. 

When Dick’s motions stopped, Jason glanced over and snickered when he found that he had dozed off. When he started to tip, Jason raised his arm so he would settle against his side instead of tipping forward and jerking awake. 

He didn’t know why he did it- since it effectively trapped him for however long Dick was asleep- and he told himself that it was because Dick needed the sleep, which he did, but-

Dick made a soft little sound as he positively melted against him, even in sleep. It was such a fragile thing, so relieved, just on the edge of broken… it made Jason’s chest ache. 

He let him sleep. 

Jason might not be able to bury him in a pile of close friends or make love to him all night or whatever, but… he could do this.

He hesitantly carded his fingers through Dick’s hair and watched him lean into the touch desperately, lips parting in a content sigh.  

Maybe for this, Jason could be enough.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Red² | Jason Todd

✦ pairing — Jason Todd x Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 1.2k

✦ request — can I request something with jason×reader where she has powers similar to (mcu) scarlet witch but she never brought it up and then maybe he finds out about it one day

✦ warnings — mentions of violence, mentions of food, Jason has a sweet tooth, fluff

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

You made him stand behind you, blocking his way into the farthest room in the warehouse. Jason puffed out air, eager to get it over with. Tilting your head, you lifted your hand at an angle.

Red strands erupted from the tips of your fingers, glowing beneath Jason’s eyes.

“They’re not here.” Jason heard your voice in his head. Frowning, he opened his mouth but you pressed, “Find a way to tell the others to get to The Narrows. And get ready to fight.”

That wasn’t the last time he saw the glowing matter. It, whatever that was, came quite handy in combat. You moved quicker, with a confidence he had never seen on you.

Your powers saved you both from dying that night and your allies from falling into a trap.

That should have been enough, yet you could almost hear Jason’s mind reeling with questions.

He stood beside you this time, arms tightly crossed against the grey t-shirt he wore as a pajama. “Are you going to explain what was that?”

You stayed silent, drying your hair after having taken a long shower. Sure he would ask, you had taken your sweet time under the water, trying to find excuses.

He wasn’t meant to find out like that, you had used your powers without thinking. They were a reflex, part of your muscle memory, an astonishing progress after years of self-hatred and insecurities.

Jason and you were never paired up for anything, he usually kept close to his brothers or his friends and you were always part of Donna’s team. If big things happened, everyone fought together. You had been careful around him and his family, but the last time you had fought together had been months ago and you were getting more comfortable with your powers and the things you could accomplish thanks to them.

You should’ve known better, both in terms of telling him the truth and in terms of controlling your impulses. Useful impulses to take advantage of your powers, but impulses nonetheless.

“You can read minds and you never told me!”

“I have never read yours if that’s what worries you.”

Jason scoffed. He hadn’t considered that you could have done it to him. That was how shocked he was. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shrugging, you walked past him to get yourself a cup of tea.

He followed you toward the kitchen, bare feet paddling against the floor as he stomped.

The night was too hot for drinking tea, yet there you were, boiling water instead of confronting your boyfriend.

Tension filled the small apartment. You could feel his heavy stare on the back of your head as you went through the drawer to find the perfect herb.

“I don’t like talking about it,” you explained. He had never pushed you to do things you didn’t feel comfortable with, there was no way this could be different.

“I don’t need a rundown. I just want to know why.”

“Because I don’t like talking about it, Jason.”

Harsh enunciations of his name hadn’t bothered him in years. The worst thing was the explanation, if he could call it that. Trust and openness were the backbones of your relationship, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel betrayed.

He wanted to know more. If the powers hurt, if you had been born with them, how long had it taken you to master them... Jason didn’t like secrets, he kept a lot already.

“Were you born with them?”

You opened the cupboard, clenching your jaw. His intentions might have been good, but you had thought you made yourself clear. “They just appeared,” you rasped, “one day I woke up and I had them. No one knows exactly what triggered them.”

“Do the red things hurt you?”

You shook your head, reaching for your favorite mug. “The blasts usually only bring pain to others,” you sighed out, ashamed.

“What do you mean?”

Turning the hob off, realizing now you really would need that tea, you picked the kettle and poured hot water into the mug. You had never explained the nature of your powers to anyone, and the people who knew the pain they could cause weren’t here to talk. How does one explain that to their partner?

“I’ve lost control before.” The mumble was barely audible. You lifted the mug, taking a gulp of the scorching hot tea. A question crossed Jason’s eyes — God, you loved knowing him so well. “Just ask. I’m already talking, aren’t I?”

“Do they hurt you when you lose control?”

You hummed in thought. It was more complicated than that, you didn’t understand it fully yet. “Not physically.”

Jason didn’t say anything else for a while. You didn’t want him to either, you weren’t in the search for pity nor coddling. He wouldn’t judge you, that was a given, but his silence was preferred in a moment you hadn’t planned to be part of.

“They’re cool...” he trailed off, unsure. “But you should’ve told me.”

There were things you could’ve done less clumsily, telling him about your powers was one of them. People feared them, your parents hadn’t taken the news well. You didn’t want him to leave too. You feared what your powers did, to people you hated, to people you loved — to you.

Jason closed the space between you, crushing you against the finger as he picked your mug. After taking a sip of tea, he made a face. “That needs sugar.”

Rolling your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Are you mad?”

“No.” Clearing his throat, hoping the bitter taste of the tea would quit burning, Jason continued speaking, “I assumed you didn’t trust me and I want you to do it like I trust you.”

“Babe,” you sighed, “you are not the problem.”

Nodding, he placed a hand on your neck, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “And you’re not a problem, don’t say it like that.”

Such a nice thing to hear from the person you love. If you were in a self-deprecating mood you would say you didn’t deserve it, but you weren’t. Hiding things from Jason was hard and draining. Turns out everything would have been fine if you had told him from the beginning.

Jason wrapped his other arm around you while his hand withdrew from your face. You felt him open one of the cupboards behind you. Grunting, he battled with a box for a few seconds before finally being able to take a few cookies out.

He offered you a cookie. You shook your head. He insisted. “Please?”

“I’m not hungry. You eat them.”

“Half a cookie at least?”

Kinking an eyebrow, you asked, “What for?”

“I want to kiss you but I have to taste that disgusting tea again, I will punch a wall.”

“You are such a baby,” you playfully teased him, moving the cookie he was offering closer to your mouth with your mind.

His eyebrows shot upward. Yup, your powers were the coolest thing ever. Jason smiled when you bit into the snack, opening his mouth when you tried to give him the now bitten cookie back.

You slowly feed him the cookie, this time taking it in your hand, hoping you wouldn’t laugh and choke. His teeth grazed your finger teasingly, eyes daring you to do anything.

He munched the cookie quickly, swallowing twice to make sure. Putting the other two cookies on the clean counter behind you, he shook the crumbs off his fingers as he leaned forward.

And so you kissed him before he could continue teasing you, smiling against his lips when he whined.

[internalsealpanic]

Fabulous Friday Evenings

Summary: You were having a really bad day.  Conner decides to help cheer you up and make sure your drunk ass doesn’t face plant on the side walk.

masterlist 

word count:  2,652

a/n: Special thanks to @anothertimdrakestan for helping with the ending and helping with editing! Love you, Elle!

warnings: alcohol and swearing and author does not know how alcohol works.  No one is under the drinking age. This may benefit from more editing. 

"Mosht people are jusht the careful scaffolding of complexshesh," you slurred, your face red, head half buried in your arms, and golden ear cuffs winking under the dim bar lights.

"You somehow still sound like a fucking nerd even you're when drunk," Conner laughed throwing his head back, handsome face stretched with a cheeky smile.  "You look like a mess," he said softly, reaching out for your cheek.

"Fuhk you! Not eberyone can be born too pretty for their own guhd- how did yah evehn know I was here? It was Tim wasn't it! "

"Good guess buuuut it was actually Bart" Conner explained casually taking a seat next to you as you lifted your head momentarily before plopping it back down to stare at the amber gloss of the drink. The light from the ceiling seemed to dance so elegantly in your eyes even as you wrinkled your brows. "That rat," you cursed miserably into your arm. 

Across from you, a pretty brunette shot you two a wink and without looking you could tell Conner flirted in kind. Normally, you'd have the audacity to steal the girl's attention away before Conner could even make a proper move but tonight you were in absolutely no mood to be charming. In fact, you were sloshed. You didn't know whether it was the fourth or fifth drink that did it but there you were sitting next to one of the most attractive people he knew with your makeup smeared and  eyes still swollen and puffy. You kind of just want a portal to open up and swallow you.

 The brunette made a motion to her friends which indicated that she was gonna try her luck and you wished her the best of luck. You bit your soft lips before pressing them into a pout. It took everything in Conner not to kiss you on the spot. Be the responsible one they said. It would be fun, they said. 

"We should go. You're-"

"Have fun," you said, patting him on the shoulder, cutting him off curtly; placing some cash on the bar before leaving. The buxom brunette approached Conner placing a hand on the shoulder you’d just touched moments before. He didn’t seem to notice her, his mind still lingering on the warmth of your hand.  Before she can say anything, he pivots and runs towards you .

The casual slump in your shoulders in place of your usual elegance was a pretty good indication that you would probably fall in a gutter before you got home. Conner highly doubted  you could see straight. 

"I can’t believe Roz let you get this sloshed without checking on you," He joked bringing one of your arms over his shoulder and slinging his own arm around you for balance. You walked like a newborn horse. It was incredibly embarrassing and you wanted to die. Conner, on the other hand, just found it incredibly hilarious.

 "She's out getting into her own brand of sloshed at a bachelorette party,"

"Huh. Didn't know she was the wedding type. Thought she hated going to those,"

"She's the stripper," You deadpanned, sounding abnormally sober.  With that Conner let out a genuinely hearty laugh. You would trade all the martinis, dackories, and margaritas in the world just to get drunk on that laugh. 

"That reminds me," Conner drawled, adjusting his hold feeling just how shaky you were from the late October Metropolis weather pressing you closer to his warm body. You kind of wanted to melt into his side but you had too much pride. "Bart never said why you were out here getting shit faced," You frowned at him but couldn't really muster any sharpness into your expression.

 There were lots of reasons to get 'shit faced' even in shiny Metropolis. You twitched your nose and mouth side to side gathering the makings of a sentence. Where do you even start? Your little sister got suspended, your mother (who somehow found out you were in Metropolis) is either demanding money or for you to drop everything to go back home to help around the house (translation: help out with the bills while babysitting your siblings), Bats and some other league members were on your ass for the last mission (probably the only thing on this list you found reasonable),  this morning, you got fired from your library job so they could hire Marco's girlfriend (who is in fact a perfectly nice person which means you can't really hate her), or the dozens of little annoyances such as Bart not being able to keep his trap shut. 

"This week was just a little much," 

A long moment of silence passes between you. Uncharacteristic for Conner but it was cute that he thought silence would make you fess up. 

"You know I could have gone home on my own. That brunette looked like she was up for a good time," 

"Yeah right. Also you're welcome." 

"You're right. Thank you for getting blue balled this fine evening to escort me" you didn't want to be prickly but Conner was being too nice and that made your skin crawl. Why couldn’t he be mean to you right now like a normal person? 

"First off, she wasn't even my type-" You raised a brow. 

"Kon, her tits were the size of Jupiter-" 

"Did you really  just say 'tits'?" 

You threw him a scowl clearly sobering up from irritation.

"Shut up. Point iiiis, you didn't have to-"

"You just said-"

"Oh for the love of- yes, I said tits. Speaking of which you should be staring at some instead of having to lug my sorry ass around on this fabulous Friday evening."  Your hand fluttering, gesturing vaguely in the air.

"Eh. There'll be other Fridays" Kon shrugged.  Pulling you closer and some selfish part of you felt relieved. 

----------

Much to your surprise (you really ought not to be), Roz wasn't home yet which meant you had to dig out the keys from the secret hiding spot- another hassle. You reached out peeling a hilariously well concealed hole in the wall and fished out the set of jingling keys. Conner looked like he was between amusement and bewilderment. Good enough.  At least, this stopped Conner's 30 minute TED Talk about the new 70s sitcom he'd found. 

You two entered the shoe box apartment clumsily thanks to your disastrous limbs. 

You blew out a breath and muttered a thanks as Conner helped you plop onto the couch.  Though, it was more like gravity decided to magnetize your body to the couch and Conner just let it happen. 

You shut his eyes for a moment wrapping a ragged blanket around you. You made a mental note to raid the thrift store for a new one. Preferably one void of holes. 

"So what's up and don't you dare say it was nothing. I've never seen you this hammered before," He said handing you a mug of steaming hot chocolate. 

"Does it occur to you that I might get hammered like this often and you might just not see it? Who knows maybe I'm actually a functional alcoholic?" 

"Ok, first off, you are barely functional. Second, that might be your weakest deflection yet.  Try again," 

"Ok... did it occur-" 

"I didn't mean it lite- just tell me what happened. Everyone's worried," 

You stared at the steam rising from the fresh cup of cocoa. It was none of Conner's business. It was no one’s business.  Your friends were too goddamn nice. Blowing out another breath, you said "You might wanna sit down too," 

Conner takes his own mug of hot cocoa and sits next to you because for some reason eye contact made you a better liar and Conner for all his dumb decisions wasn't gonna let  you off the hook that easily.  You shifted uncomfortably and muttered about either Cassie or Roz ratting you out. He assumed it was the eye contact thing. Conner felt a little offended. He might not be Tim but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Despite his hurt feelings and bruised ego, he decided to table that and focus on the current issue or, likely, issues.

 "Do you want it in alphabetical order?" 

"Please tell me you can actually do that," Conner teased with a wide grin. You couldn’t fight off a smile forming on your face. "Sadly, I am not Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. My brain cells work like a normal person's,"

"Didn't you die?" 

"Death only fixes stupid when you stay dead. You've seen Red Hood and whichever other Ex-Robin has been to the pearly gates,"

"You say that as if Jason wouldn't tell the big man to fuck off," 

You blinked and turned your head up to the ceiling. "Ok that's true," You conceded, your mouth twitching rapidly from side to side making you look like an exasperated rabbit.  Cute.

"So what's up?" 

 All the good mood from the past few minutes dissipated in an instant. You looked down solemnly at the still steaming mug. You were silent for what felt like an eternity. 

 "It's family- Immediate.  And the source of all evil-"  

 "Lex Corp?" 

You snorted a shy tired smile cracked across your face.  You shook your head. Those little gestures just make Conner feel a little warmer. You, on the other hand, cursed at how easily Conner could make you laugh. You were  supposed to be sad damn it. 

"Money," Conner knew immediate family was always a sore spot for you. No one knew the specifics except Roz but that was inevitable when you're cousins.  Money was also a sore spot and based on your near dead tone. You’ve either lost a lot of it or you’re in a tight spot but not ready to elaborate. 

"Wanna try buying a lottery ticket?"

"What?"

"Who knows you might get lucky?" 

"You could have gotten lucky you if you-" 

"Are you seriously gonna keep bringing that up?" 

"Yes, most likely. Depends," 

"On what?!" 

"On whether I can think of something funnier to give you shit about or if you can convince me-whatever the fuck you're thinking of doing stop!"Conner's cheeky grin did not disappear nor did the faint flush on your cheeks. 

"I wasn't thinking of anything, you sick pervert" he laughed. You really should have been exasperated with Conner. You tried damn it. You looked at him skeptically before violently letting his head rest on Conner’s shoulder causing the other boy to fall over. 

"Aaaaaaawwwww babe , if you wanted to cuddle you could have just said so," 

You wanted to. In fact,  both of you wanted to. But unfortunately neither of you were martian and neither of you was willing to say jack.  You closed your eyes trying to pretend Conner wasn't a little shit. Conner radiated too much smug for that though. 

"Shut up," You mumbled into Conner's shoulder already feeling sleep pull him under. You clung to him. Maybe just for tonight you can indulge in this. Just for a little while you can cling to Conner's warmth. Maybe in the morning your head will ache too much to remember this. Waking up alone wouldn't be too painful then. Hopefully. 

---------------

You woke up feeling like a troop of Can Caning hippos decided to host a live performance all over your head. You sighed remembering that you had in fact run out of Aspirin just days before so you decided on just lying there and praying that Roz also needed Aspirin and  had more energy to run to the store. 

You settled in nuzzling in to the warm- 

Wait. It was October. 

Nothing in the apartment should be warm. 

NOTHING. 

Then, you heard it.  A LOUD snore. It honestly sounded more like the roar of an engine than anything.  Everything else followed. The slow rising and falling of the chest beneath you, the press of stubble against your forehead, and the strong arms loosely wrapped around you. 

Yeah. You died again. Yeah. You finally went to heaven. Yup. You were ok with that. You were  definitely 100% A Ok with this if this was heaven. Being held tenderly by the guy you liked while you got a good night’s sleep was definitely heaven. God, you were such a sap.  

How the hell you missed all of that baffled you.

 Oh wait. Dancing hippos. Fuck. 

Your head felt like it was threatening to crack open but somehow you honestly could not mind even if you tried. You were  laying on top of a hot (literally and metaphorically) guy mutually cuddling. You nuzzled into the junction between Conner’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to steal more warmth. Sure, you were probably gonna go deaf from the snoring. Sure, you were definitely irritated by the stubble pressed against your face. And sure, you would probably die of embarrassment once Conner woke up. You could worry about all that later. All you could think about was how nicely your arms fit around Conner’s neck and how Conner’s arms wrap around you a little tighter in return. 

Click. 

Click. 

You could hear the distinct sound of your own camera shutter. Each sound chipped away at your peace of mind. You lifted your head only to see Roz holding your camera. 

TAKING PICTURES. 

Your cousin was nothing if not a petty opportunist. 

“I would tell you to get a room buuuut the only bedroom iiiiis preeeeeeetty occupied,” Roz drawled  smugly way too pleased with herself. You opened his mouth to ask but you’d already made the mistake of walking in on Roz and a guest once and you were  pretty sure you needed more therapy for that than you did for your murder. You just sighed as Roz took another picture.

“Come on, (y/n), smile a little,”

“I’m not smiling for your blackmail material,”

Roz gasped trying to sound scandalized. She failed, only sounding amused beyond belief. “It’s only blackmail if you’re ashamed of it. Personally, I think you’re scoring big time,”

“Roz please just fuck off before you wake him up,”

“Too fuckin’ late for that. He’s been awake for awhile,” 

You could  feel Conner smiling into your hair and his arms wrap around you  a little tighter. You tried to straighten up. To tower over him. To look intimidating. 

But…. you couldn’t. You were kind of trapped because, yanno,  super strength.

 You were seething and threw a scowl at Conner who only chuckled at you in response.  

“You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?” You snarled, clearly exasperated and feeling the hippos start their encore performance. 

“ Mmmmmm, it depends,” Nope. The hippos did not only come back for an encore. They brought friends. Based on the absolutely smug look on Conner’s face, you were in for an entire parade. 

You let out a breath not sure if you wanted to play this game but not really seeing any other options.  “On what?“

Conner paused and hummed and hummed and hummed some more as if he was actually thinking but you knew from the crook of his lips that he had this planned out. Maybe not this exact scenario but something close“Go out on a date with me,”

You blinked then rolled your eyes theatrically enough that your head rolled along with it.   “And be seen with you in public?” You teased, an almost sheepish smile tugging at your features.

Yeah, Conner wasn’t exactly expecting you to say yes.

 “Yeah. Sure. Why not?” You said playing it off as casually as possible but you couldn’t help but mirror the absolutely goofy grin plastered on Conner’s face.  His happiness was infectious. You felt weightless. It was probably the fact that you were floating with him but you were pretty sure you were just on cloud nine. You were doomed. Definitely, inevitable, indubitably doomed. Even though everything has been shit up to now. The happiness radiating off of Conner was enough to make everything feel a little better.  

Thank you so much for reading!

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[scrappedtogether]

Thoughts on Sword and the Scoob:

***Spoilers under the cut***

The Positives:

I thought this movie was better than Happy Halloween

Daphne dancing was cute. I also loved that Fred pretty much immediately joined in and then Shaggy and Scooby did too.

Liked the “I love your hair” joke

Daphne&Fred + “Knight in Shining Armor” moment = adorable

Fred’s knight outfit was easily my fav

I loved the montage of them all taking selfies. Super cute!

I actually really enjoyed King Arthur. I love the Gang, of course, but I’m also a sucker for a good ole sixth addition. His camaraderie with Shaggy was sweet. I also like the change-up that comes with the dynamics whenever the Gang befriends someone who isn’t as nice as they are.

Daphne’s A+ fighting, jousting, and archery was a pleasure to watch

Scooby saying that Fred was also his knight in shining armor 👌

Fred saying that he’s an artist when talking about how good he is at making traps

“Velma’s usually right about these things” 👏 Fred

Shaggy drinking respect women juice and saying women can do whatever they want and also that some are scary 😤👍 my boy

Velma letting Daphne be Ariel and sit where she wanted on the Dragon 🥺

Scooby refusing to eat while Shaggy was in danger

Shaggy and Scooby dancing and celebrating together when they think Morgan’s been defeated

Fred touching Shaggy’s face a bunch when he first sees the Castle

^Also Scooby licking Shaggy’s face after they found him

Shaggy being asked if he’s alright by the Gang and responding “I am now that you guys are here.” 😭

Daphne calling the Gang “Dudes”

Norville being a family name

Shaggy not wanting to own land because people invested in real estate tend to be kinda evil 😂

King Arthur’s cute little reflection about whether Shaggy was his mate or not and then saying he was at least the closest thing he ever had to one. I KNOW IT WASNT REAL GUYS BUT IT WAS IN MY HEAAART

I enjoyed the callbacks to all the previous media with the sleep gas fog

The Gang holding hands in a circle while falling toward the ground (though, I don’t understand how they went from being in the air to then landing safely on the ground — was the flying through the air thing a dream? they would have still been moved though, right?)

I thought the picture disappearing thing was actually cool and a neat way to raise the stakes. It’s nothing that hasn’t been done before but I wasn’t expecting them to implement it and I liked how it worked to move the plot forward in a way that felt natural. (Also Daph had it as her lockscreen, I’m 🥺)

Mystery machine wagon was cool

I thought the gag with Arthur being happy Lancelot got beaten up was pretty good

Sidenote: Jason Isaacs killed it

Fred giving Daphne his ascot

SIR FRED SIR DAPHNE

Fred slapping the plate of food out of Shaggy’s hands was probably the best joke of the whole movie

A Few Negatives:

This movie along with the last few has been a bit over saturated I think??? I can’t tell if it’s me or my monitor or what but I feel like the colors have been turned up a bit lately. I thought this film wasn’t as bad as Happy Halloween (which had really bright greens, pinks, and oranges that were too much for my eyes) but still a little intense

Budget constraints in general mean the animation’s a little lower in quality but nothing that detracts from the viewing experience

Gaslight was not something I ever expected to hear in a Scooby movie. Writers were clearly not using the word in the same context as it’s most used nowadays but it still threw me for a sec

Really didn’t like Velma saying she only watched Thundarr for the abs. Seemed very un-Velma 😬 Also initially thought she was going to have cute bonding over books with the librarian lady but nope, definitely not where that went

Some of the dialogue was hard to follow, just a couple scene where the exchanges were a bit quick/oddly-paced. Also some of the jokes didn’t land for me but that’s nothing unusual, especially since this movie is FULL of humor so a few not doing it for me is expected, and mostly to taste. I have no doubt the film will make you laugh at least once if not multiple times (like it did for me) so 😉

Wish they’d handled the joke about Fred’s susceptibility just a little differently.

(Not a negative just a related note) But everything he said about his Dad. 😧 Very Concerned for my son

Forgetting to charge the phone was a little contrived but ultimately necessary and forgivable

I guess airline ticket prices were the real monster are along....

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 8)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 1874

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​​

**Song Inspiration: Wanna Be by Betty Who

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living with Hayden proved to be nowhere near as daunting and scary as you thought it would be. At first, yes, there were a few bumps in the road. The laundry situation got a little confusing, the chores got a little mixed around, the groceries were nearly a catastrophe, but after a few weeks, the two of you finally had everything all sorted out.

Once the small discrepancies were sorted, he was a delight to have. Nothing changed about your friendship, in fact, it made it a little easier. Rather than figuring out whose place you would head to to hang out, or worrying about someone needing to get back somewhere in time for bed...None of that existed any more. You went to work, and reconvened at night when you got home. 

Sometimes he was still up, waiting for you with a leftover plate of dinner ready so you didn’t have to cook. Other times, he kept a plate set aside with a note telling you how exhausted he was and he was in bed. To you, the notes were sweet. A lot of guys would just text something like “going to bed. Dinner on the counter. Night” or “didn’t make dinner. You may need to grab something.” But not Hayden, he always put thought into it. 

His notes usually consisted of a wishful note on hoping your day went nicely, a comment or two on his own day, and a description of what he made for dinner. One night you came home to a bottle of wine and a piece of chocolate cake he set aside for you, after a particularly bad shift. The gesture had made your heart melt. Another night, you’d mentioned craving cheese so he made extra cheesy garlic bread with spaghetti. Another night, he surprised you with a few chocolate truffles and a can of coke since your head hurt, along with the aspirin already set out. If you weren’t careful, he was going to make you gain weight.

But you didn’t care. Hayden was so caring and sweet and attentive. You tried to repay the favor on days you were off by making him meals, surprising him with his favorite candy, or queuing up the next episode of whatever show you two were currently in the middle of. If he wasn’t feeling up for any of that, you’d freshen his sheets and room.  

And if you two weren’t trying to outdo each other on the level of kindness, you would sit and play cards or a board game. Sometimes you worked on your writing and he worked on lines. Sometimes you even helped each other. You read lines with him and he helped you come up with smoother choruses. 

Life couldn’t get much better for you. Jason was pretty much completely gone from your mind, your work seemed to be getting better and if it wasn’t, you always had Hayden to light it up for you. Hayden’s rent was already helping and he seemed happy to have a space to call his own. 

Now, you were out getting groceries for the week and Hayden was just getting off work. He sent you a text to ask for a couple more things and you made your way to getting them. You grabbed the last bit of stuff that he wanted, the stuff on your list, you checked out, and made your way home.

When you got there, you were surprised by what you found. 

“Hey, there’s...a little person here,” you noted as you got in the door with some of the bags of groceries.

You stepped inside and you saw Hayden crouched on the floor, talking to a two or three year old blonde little girl, playing with her hands and smiling at her. 

“Oh hey, you’re home!” Hayden noted as he looked up at you and grinned widely, taking your breath away as it always did. “And your arms are full of groceries. Let me help.” 

“Oh, no, you’re fine. Keep playing.”

He just rolled his eyes and walked past you out to the car to finish bringing in the bags. You sat them down and went over to the little girl, kneeling in front of her.  

“Hey there,” you greeted softly as she smiled at you and put her fingers in her mouth. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?” 

Hayden just stepped in and put the bags down before joining you two. 

“This is Briar Rose,” he informed proudly as he gazed at her, then looked back at you. 

His introduction triggered in your head and the realization hit you. His daughter. This is the Briar Rose you two had spent so much time talking about. 

“Oh! Oh my god! This is Briar!” you gasped. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” you said as you took her hand and shook it and she grinned and giggled.

“Briar, this is my good friend, Y/N. She owns this big house that we’re playing in and she’s nice enough to let Daddy stay here,” he said, pretending to press a button on her stomach, making her giggle. “Isn’t that nice?” 

“Yeah,” she concurred, nodding, a happy grin on her face. 

“When did she get here?” you asked, surprised and excited. 

“An hour ago. Rachel dropped her off,” he informed, thrusting his head over his shoulder.

“Ah, gotcha,” you said, nodding, her name bringing up a bit of jealousy. “Well I’m gonna put the groceries up. I’ll make your dinner and get out of your way,” you said.

“Get out of our way?” he asked as you stood up and walked into the kitchen.

“Well, yeah? Don’t you want some bonding time with Briar? I don’t want to impose. I’ll just go to my room and chill or sing or something,” you responded, shrugging him off with a wave.

“What? No. I want you out here with us. I’d love for you to meet her and get to know her. I’m sure she’d really enjoy it too,” he assured.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely. Go ahead and make lunch and I’ll get her changed so we can go to the park after.”

“Oh! Or I could make up a picnic lunch and we could take it with us!” you offered, excited beyond belief to be able to spend the day with a child, let alone Hayden’s little angel. 

“That’s perfect. I’ll meet you back out here in fifteen minutes?” he asked as he hoisted her up onto his hip.

“Yep!”

At that, he took off to his room to get her changed and probably get a to-go pack ready for her, meanwhile you set to work on a nutritious lunch a toddler could eat, as well as filling items for an adult.

As soon as you were all set up, the food, plates, and utensils ready, you met Hayden back near the front door, Briar on his lap. 

“I’ll drive, so you can have time with her,” you said with a gentle smile at his beautiful daughter. 

“Really?” he asked, astonished, his blue eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, of course,” you assured, smiling up at him. 

“Thank you. Let me just grab the car seat from my car and we’ll get going.”

----------------

The three of you shared a wonderful day at the park. It was in the high sixties, warm, with a low breeze. Briar played on just about everything and Hayden joined her ninety-percent of the time, pushing her on the swings, helping her on the jungle gym, putting her on the teeter-totter. You looked on with such awe. Hayden possessed every facet of a father to you - caring, nurturing, fun, involved. So long as he was with Briar, he was smiling and happy it seemed, and it warmed your soul.

He joined you back on the blanket you’d brought. 

“Why don’t you join us?” he asked, excited anticipation in his face and voice as he grabbed a cracker and cheese. 

“Nah, this is for you and Briar. I’m just here to watch.”

“Nonsense, come here,” he said, grabbing your hand and hoisting you up.

“Hayden, no! No, Hayden!” you said, laughing and pulling away from him. “I’m fine. Really!” you said, chuckling so hard your argument was futile. He eventually let go of your hand and grabbed you around the waist and pulled you over to the swings, sitting you down right beside Briar. 

“You gonna swing wiff me, Y/N?” Briar asked with a happy grin on her face as her little hands gripped the chains of the swings.

“I suppose I am. Your dad seems to insist,” you said, laughing up at him as he pushed you once on the swing. 

“You need to learn to let go, a little,” he said as he walked over to Briar. 

“Oh? Just a little?” you asked with heavy sarcasm.

“Yeah, just a little,” he repeated with a wink.

“Push, Daddy! Push! Higher!” Briar squealed and you reveled in watching the two of them before you suddenly got an idea and hopped up from the swing.

You stood in front of Briar and caught her swing as she was coming forward.

“What happening?” Briar said as she seemed curious, scared, and delighted all in one.

“I’m the tickle monster, and I’ve caught you in a trap. The only way to get out of it, is to give me the secret code word,” you said with a fake, silly, sinister look and voice. 

“No!” she squealed and laughed.

You slowly acted as if you were gonna tickle her, letting go of the swing with one arm, the other slowly going towards her side. 

“No!” she cried out again.

“You gotta give me the password, then!”

“Pwease?!” she said, giggling.

“Nope!” you said, your hand inching forward. “Guess again!”

“Pwetty pwease!”

“Almost,” you teased as your hand was almost to her pink jacket. 

“Pwetty pwease with sprinkles!”

“Yep!” you cheered. “Now hold on tight!” You waited to make sure she had a hold of the swing before letting it fall back to her father. She squealed and giggled the entire way back before he pushed her to you again, where you would grab her and pretend to drop her a few times, before actually letting her go. She seemed to love the thrill of the idea of falling. 

The three of you continued to play, and run, and chase, and laugh all over the park. By the end of it, Briar was asleep in her carseat on the way home, and it was already growing dark. 

Quietly, on the drive, you told Hayden, “I’m gonna make you dinner, but then I’m gonna go work on writing.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to. I had a blast today. It was amazing. But I think you need time with your daughter.” You glanced back at her in the mirror. “I know how much you miss her, I don’t blame you. So you need to have some time with her though.”

“Yeah, we need to have our traditional night of watching Trolls together,” he mentioned fondly. 

“Dinner in bed, then,” you corrected lightly as you glanced to him and smiled, him returning it with a warm grin, melting your insides.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Hayden Christensen:

@coldlilheart​

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[rosesgonerogue]

Let the Sunshine In - Chapter 6

Masterlist (because I finally learned to make one)

Five years ago Jason would have said he felt like death. Now Jason would have welcomed death with open arms if he thought Ra’as wouldn’t just track his body down and resurrect him again, even more broken the second time around. 

Also, saying that you felt like death usually implied that someone was listening, which definitely was not the case. He felt like a ghost in a number of ways, a specter trapped between heaven and hell, desperate for someone to notice him, confirm that he existed. But the feeling of emptiness, of invisibility was put aside in the name of anger. After all, anger reigned supreme in his mind. 

As each day passed, thoughts of Marinette slowly faded. It couldn't have been more than a week since he’d left her house, but the memories felt years old, a fleeting moment of light that could never have been permanent. It was almost easier that way, so he couldn’t reflect on how badly he’d messed up. 

Not that Jason had any time to reflect. Each day without Marinette meant that the anger was becoming stronger and more frequent. He found himself blacking out for large chunks of time, and when he woke up he would wake up in the Red Hood mask, covered in blood that wasn’t his. 

A part of him didn’t know why he even bothered with the costume - he was already a monster, no one could deny it. Part his reasoning for the costume was simply habit from his days as Robin, but a large part of his motivation was the thought of Marinette stumbling across him in the street. Just imagining the look of horror on her face was enough to shatter what little sense of self he had. 

Maybe Marinette meant more to him than he was willing to admit. 

So, Jason existed, even though he didn’t want to. It only took a week for Paris to start talking about him consistently, so he watched the news, monitored what he did when he wasn’t in control. It seemed that he hadn’t killed anyone yet - or if he had, the Miraculous Cure had brought them back. Apparently he lost consciousness during akuma attacks, and on several occasions he’d simply shot the akuma down, disappearing while Ladybug and Chat Noir dealt with the aftermath. 

In theory the fact that he hadn’t shot anyone should have been some small consolation, but he couldn’t avoid that suspicion that he wasn’t actually helping the French heroes. He’d dealt with enough in Gotham to know when something was playing head games to accomplish their own means, and whatever it was that controlled him during his blackouts wanted something sinister. 

Weeks passed just like that, Jason slowly losing himself day by day to the anger, the destruction he caused. 

The nothingness. 

Disguises, masks, his life was pushed into the shadows. He didn’t even think that he could actually call this living. Jason chuckled to himself, the sound cold and empty. His miraculous second chance at life left him in even worse shape than before Bruce found him, cold and hungry and completely without the will to live. 

Jason didn’t have much hope for the future - really, he had a single hope. When the time came, he hoped that next time he stayed dead. 

***********

She couldn’t understand - Marinette had known Jay for less than twenty-four hours, but the memory of him still haunted her. Did he have a safe place to stay? Was he eating enough? Had he fully succumbed to the influence of the Lazarus Pits yet? 

Shaking herself, she turned her attention back to the issue at hand: Red Hood, the mysterious new vigilante. He had dodged any efforts she or Chat made to follow or talk to him, so they decided to split up and look for him outside of an akuma attack. It was doubtful that it would yield anything, but Marinette knew that if that hideous outfit she’d been forced to make was visible, she would spot it. The jury was still out on whether or not she would destroy it - if the opportunity presented itself, she would be more than tempted. 

Swinging around the city until it was dark seemed like more than enough, though. Pausing on a rooftop, Ladybug spoke into her yo-yo. “I think it’s time to call it quits, Chaton. We both need to get some rest.” 

“Brilliant idea, M’Lady. Don’t worry, we’ll find him soon.” 

“I have no doubt about that, Chaton. After all, I can’t just let him steal my colors like this.” 

Chat Noir let out a surprised bark of laughter. “I don’t know what happened to bring you back to yourself, Bugaboo, but it’s nice to have the old you back.”

“It feels nice to be back, Kitty. Now sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” 

“Oh, you’re trying to steal my lines now? Just you wait, my new jokes are going to be insuf-fur-able.” 

The two bantered a bit before finally saying goodbye. Detransforming, Marinette clambered down the building’s fire escape. It was dusk, so she probably should have gone straight home, but there was a grocery store not too far away, and she needed a few things. 

“Bonjour,” the tired shop owner called upon her entrance. 

“Bonjour!” Marinette replied, mentally making a list of things she needed. She was content to browse the shelves idly, despite the dwindling sunlight. It was a smaller store, and a handful of others milled around as well. 

Marinette was staring down the produce and deciding what she wanted to make the coming week when the shopkeeper yelled, “Stop! Thief!”

Instinctively dropping her basket, Marinette launched herself to the doors of the store where someone was attempting to flee. He got caught up in a crowd on the sidewalk, which gave Marinette more time to catch up to him. 

The closer she got to him, the more she recognized an eerie situation permeating the air. Now with completely different intentions, Marinette pounced, catching Jay’s and in hers. 

She hauled him into an empty alleyway before demanding, “Jay? Are you okay? What’s going on? Why did you leave? Especially if you have to steal!” 

Seeing him like this hurt, definitely more than Marinette could have ever expected it to. His eyes widened when they met hers, full of emotions - pain, fear, and regret swirled in his eyes before that same toxic green clouded them and anger reigned supreme. Snarling like a feral animal, he lunged towards Marinette with hands outstretched.

Marinette had been dreaming of finding Jay again for weeks, but this wasn’t how she’d pictured any of it happening. She dodged instinctively, and her stomach twisted when his jacket fell open just enough to see the familiar bullet proof material he wore underneath. 

So, it seemed she’d found Red Hood after all. 

None of it made sense just yet, but some of the pieces were starting to fall into place. All along it had seemed like Red Hood had been attempting to help in his own, destructive way, but he had never spoken, and his movements were always jerky, uncontrolled, not at all the way that Jay moved ordinarily. As someone alive because of the pits, he was probably drawn to all of the errant Miraculous energy.

It wasn’t fair. Overwhelmed by the injustice of his situation, Marinette’s body took over. She ducked another of his lunges and pivoted on her heel, her other one connecting solidly with his temple. He crumpled on impact, leaving Marinette panting and slightly regretting her hasty action. But her recently unleashed emotions burned within her. 

Screw the Lazarus Pits, screw Jay’s anger, and screw Hawkmoth. Neither of them had asked for any of this - neither of them deserved  any of this.

She went back in to pay for the food she’d dropped and he’d stolen before calling a taxi.

“Marinette, what are you thinking?” Tikki asked, flitting around her head while they waited. 

“I’ve been complacent for too long. I understand why I’ve done what I’ve done, but no more. Hawkmoth, whoever did this to Jay, they better watch out because I’m taking our lives back.” Marinette glanced to the bag she assumed held Red Hood’s helmet. “But only after I burn that awful helmet.”

Tikki couldn’t reply because it was then that the cabbie arrived, but she settled in Marinette’s purse, practically glowing. Finally.

Taglist: 

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Note: 

Hey guys, I know it's been forever, sorry about that. I had a wicked case of writer's block, which was compounded by the fact that I only have the loosest of outlines for this fic. Picking what direction I needed to go was harder than I thought it would be. But I'm not giving up on this story, I promise to see it through to the end no matter how long it takes! If you want to be tagged or if I forgot you somehow, just leave a comment in the notes! 

[wordsfromthesol]

Forever Together…Hopefully Not. (1/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Red Hood asks for your help on a case, but things go sideways quickly and now the two of you are closer than ever before. Warnings:  Language (when is it not?) Word Count: 1.5k

Part Two

“Remind me who we are going after, and why I had to be the one to help you?”

“Because I wanted a hot side kick.”

You rolled your eyes. “I will never be your side kick Jay.”

“And yet who jumped when I called?”

“Just because I won’t be your side kick, doesn’t mean I want you dead…Now who are we waiting for?” You had been sitting on a rooftop for hours now and Jason wouldn’t read you in. “How do you expect me to help if you won’t tell me anything?” You could tell he was smirking underneath that red mask. Jason Peter Todd just loved to push your buttons, ever since he followed you that first night you stepped out in your vigilante costume. He took every minute he could to chastise your chosen vigilante name, your technique, your cases, basically just you in general.

“Sometimes, Y/N/N, you don’t have all the information…I’m mentoring you.”

“Mentoring bullshit. You are doing it to annoy me. I know you all too well, it’s been 3 years after all.”

“And there’s still so much you must learn my eager little child.”

“I’m a year younger than you…”

“Maybe in age.”

The two of you sat in silence once again, until the lack of information was gnawing at your mind again. You had never been known for your patience.

“How am I supposed to know who I’m even looking for?”

“Someone acting sketchy. Duh.”

“UGH!” You threw your hands in the air and stood up, walking away from the edge of the building.

“Wait! Y/N/N, there!” He pointed at the figure entering in the toy store, the toy store that everyone in town knew was a criminal front.

“Is that…” you waited for your mask to focus on the figure’s face, “you’ve got to be kidding me. You brought me to fight a damn magician.”

Before you could protest further, Jason had his arms wrapped around your waist and the two of you were plummeting to the street. Once you landed you shot him a scowl.

“You know I hate that.”

“Why you do think I do it, doll?” With that the two of you walked into the toy store in silence. What you hadn’t accounted for was any kind of traps or precautions the villain you were after might have taken. Within minutes you were greeted by the magician.

“Oh look. Two wonderful vigilantes come to stop little old me! What a joy to meet you both!”

The two of you look at each other with confusion before Jason spoke up.

“Usually the bad guy isn’t so happy to see us.”

“Well I can only imagine. Though I think you’ll find you may have a hard time capturing me.” She raised her hands in the air and shook her wrists. You watched the idiot magician continue to wave jazz hands at the two of you until you looked down at your own wrist which has been locked to Jason’s. Once the magician saw the look of astonishment and realization spread across your face she was gone. Unfortunately for you, Jason had yet to realize and charged after the woman just as she disappeared, leaving you trailing behind him before crashing into his back. The two of you tumbled to the ground.

“Really, Jay, really?”

“Hmph, just get off me.” You rolled to the side and you both sat up on the floor of the toy store. “I’ll get us out of these in no time.” Jason pulled a lock pick from his belt, and within seconds the handcuffs fell to the floor. As Jason tried to get up, he was pulled back down and collided with you once again. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Looks like your stuck with me a bit longer.”

“Great,” a smirk formed on his lips, “So your place or mine?”

You rolled your eyes, “Mine. I don’t trust who you let in yours…or what you do in there.”

“Fine,” he pulled you both up and headed for the door, “But we take my ride.”

**

The ride on his bike was awkward enough, due to whatever was binding your wrists together, you had to sit facing him, with your arm stretched out behind you near the handle bar. This position forced you to lean even further into his body. And then he took you to his apartment, claiming he just needed to grab a few things.

“So, we just going to waltz through the front door?” You motioned at the costumes the both of you still donned. Before he could give an explanation, he grabbed your bound wrist and twirled you into him before shooting a grappling gun into the air. Landing on the fire escape in front of his window (you assumed), you pushed him back, “I’m so paying you back for that.”

“I think you already have,” he said as he raised both of your wrists before turning to open the window. As soon as he two of you successfully, albeit awkwardly entered the apartment, you noticed someone sitting on the couch.

“Little wing, you brought a date home.”

“Yeah, so why don’t you scram.”

“Calm down, I was just coming to check on you after…” Dick looked over at you, “you left pretty mad. Didn’t know you had plans tonight.”

Jason sighed, knowing his brother wasn’t going to let this go, “Aurora, this is my brother Dick. Dick, Aurora.”

“Another vigilante in town.” Dick eyed his brother, clearly wanting to say more and wanting an explanation, but he got up to leave Jason in peace.

“Alright, well…Alfred requests your presence for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Not sure I’ll make it there.”

“It was less of a request and more like delivering the news.” Dick said as he turned and headed for the door. “It was good to meet you.”

You just smiled silently, until he left, when you punched Jason in the arm. “What the fuck?!”

“I didn’t know he would be here!”

“Just get your shit so we can go before any more of your family members show up.”

“What your family doesn’t just barge into your apartment?”

“Ghosts don’t tend to barge in.”

**

The ride to your apartment was just as awkward, but this time you insisted on just walking through the front door.

“I have no one to protect, so I’d rather just have villains know who I am than ride your death trap up to my window.” You scoffed as you pulled out the key from your utility belt. “So, you think our clothes can go through this invisible bond thing?” Pulling him through the door you waltzed over to your bedroom.

Jason’s eyebrows raised, “What did you have in mind princess?”

Shooting him a stern look of disapproval, “Well a hot shower and getting into more comfortable clothes would be nice. I don’t really like to sleep in Kevlar and spandex.”

“A shower, hmm.”

“With you on the other side of the curtain, Jason.”

“You take the fun out of everything.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hopefully this stupid spell wears off quickly.” Pointing at your bound wrists, “Try to get your jacket off.” Thankfully the clothing passed between the two of you.

“I call first shower!” Jason screamed as he forced your arm around, stripping off his clothes and leaving you to trail behind him to the bathroom.

“You. Suck.” You mumbled under your breath as he closed the curtain behind you.

He let out a quick laugh as he poked his head out from behind the curtain, “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“JASON!”

His shower went off without a hitch, and you wished you could say the same for yours, but your clumsy self had to slip while getting out – landing you naked on top of a towel-clad Jason.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“Shut up, Jason.” You moved to get up and realized you couldn’t put any pressure on your left foot. Fuck. You played it off while wrapping yourself in a towel, until Jason went to move towards the bedroom and you attempted to use your injured foot. You would have landed flat on your face, once again, if Jason wasn’t paying attention. Grabbing your wrist, he pulled you into him and sighed.

“You had to make this more complicated, didn’t you?” Before you could speak he picked you up and walked over to your dresser, where he pulled out a t-shirt and shorts before going to pick up his own bag. He placed you on the bed, and the two of you got dressed. The situation had long surpassed the awkward phase and you the two of your realized there were worse people to be tethered to. It had been nearly an hour and you were laying on your back, unable to fall asleep.

“Jay?” you whispered, checking to see if he was still awake.

“Hmm?”

“What if this doesn’t wear off?”

“I know someone,” he turned on his side to face you, “though I’d rather not ask for help.”

You stifled a laugh, “Shocking…but I get it. Me either. 24 hours?”

“24 hours.”

[cdelphiki]

Damian didn’t scream.

That was the first thing Dick noticed.  Aside from his own internal panic of shit shit shit the kid’s been shot, of course.  Even though it was just with a dart of fear toxin and not like, an actual bullet, it still got Dick’s heart racing just a little quicker.  

But Damian wasn’t screaming.  Dick had seen each of the other kids on fear toxin, as well as hundreds of random civilians.  There was always screaming.  Crying, shouting, screaming.  And yet, Damian was doing none of that.  

Keeping the kid in his peripherals, Dick finished taking out Scarecrow and tied him up nice and pretty for the GCPD.  It was actually fairly easy, since he, too, was unnerved by Robin’s lack of screaming.  The tiny little 10-year-old’s apparent lack of fear.  

“Robin?” Dick asked as he slowly approached.  It was clear Damian was hallucinating.  At least, Dick thought it was.  Since Damian had quit fighting and was standing there, stiffly. He just wasn’t scared.  

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, kneeling down in front of Damian as he did a visual scan of the boy, his hands hovering an inch or so from Damian’s body, afraid to touch him and risk setting him off, “can you hear me?”

In response, all Damian did was take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, through his nose.  A move Dick recognized as meant to calm one down.  To slow a heart rate and keep panic at bay.  

So perhaps Damian was scared.  Did he know what was happening then?  And was responding accordingly?  Staying calm because he knew none of what he was seeing was real?

Dick had no idea.  

“Hey,” he said gently as he loaded a clean syringe up with a full dose of the antitoxin, “I’m going to give you some medicine that will make it stop, okay, kid?  Can you hear me?”

Damian didn’t respond, so Dick very carefully grasped onto Damian’s upper arm, testing the waters to see how violent a reaction he’d have to touch.  Considering normal Damian was quick to kick or punch, or as Tim had discovered the one time he ‘accidentally’ ruffled Damian’s hair, bite, Dick was preparing himself to defend against a ruthless, violent attack.

Instead, Damian gasped, almost inaudibly, as he shut his eyes tight.

“It’s okay, D,” he said as he gripped a little tighter, allowing him to stab the syringe right into Damian’s thigh.  Straight through his uniform.

The boy didn’t even flinch.

But then Damian said, with an almost unnoticeable shake to his voice, “I’m sorry.”  If one didn’t know Damian, it would have gone unnoticed.  But Dick did know Damian.  He’d been the primary caretaker…. Well that was probably actually Alfred.  He was the one who got them to sleep and eat and such.  

He’d been the primary emotional caregiver to Damian for nearly six months.  Ever since Bruce died.  

“What for?” he asked in as soothing a tone as the Batman gravel would allow, “You’re okay, you did nothing wrong.”

While he let the antitoxin run its course, Dick pulled out his batphone to let Gordon know Scarecrow was ready for pick up.  The entire time, he kept his hand on Damian’s arm, making sure he stayed put.  

The boy didn’t move.  He didn’t try to pull away, even as his body began shaking, ever so slightly.

“Robin?” Dick said, pocketing his phone and looking back over at the boy.  

“Please,” Damian whispered.

The hint of desperation in Damian’s voice was enough to make Dick drop the Batman voice all together.  “Please what, bud?” 

“I’m sorry.  Grayson- I- I’m-”

“Shhhhh,” Dick said, running his free hand up and down Damian’s arm, trying his best to sooth the panic he could see rising in the boy.  Why wasn’t the antitoxin working?  It should only take a couple minutes, and Damian only seemed to be getting worse.  

“Its okay.  You’re okay,” Dick started to repeat, as he stood, “Come on, we need to get you home and synthesize a new antitoxin.”

“Grayson, please,” Damian choked out, in a painful sounding aborted sob.  The poor kid was struggling not to cry, now, and that only seemed to make it all worse.  

Dick wanted nothing more than for Damian to go back to not being scared.  

Was he ever not scared?  Or had the fear just become so intense that he could no longer hide it?

He didn’t even want to think about the implications of a 10-year-old being able to hide his fear so well, he appeared to have none while on fear toxin.

“What is it?” he asked softly, dropping back down to a crouch so he could brush his fingers across Damian’s cheek before checking his pulse.

“I apologize, I-”

His pulse was racing.  At least 150bpm.  “You’re okay kiddo, you’re okay.  It’s okay.”

Just as a tear escaped out of Damian’s domino and down his cheek, Damian tensed up.  He quickly swiped it away as his entire body went completely rigid, all trace of emotion vanished from his face.  “It was a mistake,” he said stiffly, “I can be better.  I promise.  I will.  Please.”

Dick let go abruptly, just so he could pull Damian in close, squishing his tense little body right into his chest. Because that’s what this kid needed right now.  A hug.  

A hug and probably a lifetime’s worth of therapy.  But they could all use that, so Dick wasn’t really one to talk there.  

“Don’t send me back,” Damian whispered, both unbothered and unnoticing of his new position being crushed in Dick’s arms.  

“I would never,” Dick whispered back, wishing beyond hope that his words would penetrate whatever hallucination Damian was stuck in.  

When Dick was tripping on fear gas, he’d watch his parents fall to their deaths.  Then watch Bruce.  Then Jason.  And Tim.  And Alfred.  Babs and Wally.  And probably Damian, now, too.   

Tim, as far as Dick could tell, usually saw everyone he loved die.  Everyone important in his life turn their backs on him and leave him all alone.  

Bruce had usually witnessed each of them dying.  Collapsed down onto the ground and cried for each of his children.  

Damian, though.  Damian apparently saw himself getting kicked out by Dick and sent back to the League of Assassins.  He tensed up and waited for the blows to come, for Dick, or whoever Damian was seeing, to take their disappointment in him out on him physically.

His favorite little kid was so used to being hit that he didn’t even try to fight it.  The same kid that fought everything.  That screamed and bit and stabbed for a simple hair ruffle.  For looking at him the wrong way.  

“Oh, Damian,” he whispered, blinking back the tears that had started to well in his eyes.  Crying right now would not be good.  He needed to get them home.  And with the sound of sirens growing closer, he needed to get them out of there soon.  

Dick stood, only letting go of his grip on Damian enough to scoop him up into his arms and carry him, bridal style, to the Batmobile.  He wrapped his cape around the boy tightly, as if the trembling mess of a child in his arms could be comforted by it. 

Damian didn’t speak again.  In fact, he seemed to completely leave his body.  His heart-rate slowed down as his breathing became steady.  The trembling stopped, and he just lay there, in Dick’s arms, completely limp as Dick continued walking them to the Batmobile.

With a deep breath, Dick tried to get the hand that was clamping down on his heart and making his entire chest seize to let up.  There was nothing he could do about any of this until he got them home and made a new antitoxin.  Until the fear toxin was out of Damian’s body, nothing he said or did would fix anything. 

Once he reached the Batmobile, he opened the passenger door and carefully set Damian down on the seat, detaching his cape as he did so he could leave it wrapped around Damian.  “I love you,” he whispered, as he pushed back Damian’s hair and planted a kiss on his forehead, “We’ll fix this, okay?  Just hang in there, bud.”

- - - 

It took far too long to synthesize a new antitoxin.  Three hours.  And that was with him and Alfred both working tirelessly on it.  

Three hours Damian was trapped in the hellscape that was his mind.  

After twenty minutes, Alfred had sedated him.  Dick knew being sedated while on fear gas or toxin didn’t end the nightmares, but it would prevent Damian from hurting himself or someone else in his hallucinations.

Not that he had done anything more than tremble.  

Dick hated to see him disassociate.  It killed him to see.  Because the kid was 10.  He was 10 and strong and very capable.  He could defend himself against anything, Dick knew.  

Had his life really been so terrible that the only option he had when faced with his greatest nightmares was to just disconnect himself from reality?  To pretend nothing was happening and go off somewhere else?

What horrors has he experienced, that this was his only option?  That not even he could escape them?

Grayson, please.

And… had he been begging Dick not to hurt him?  Or begging him to help him?

Once the antitoxin was finished and they’d given him two doses of it, Dick found himself sitting at Damian’s bedside.  He held onto one of Damian’s hands, while his other gently traced up and down his arm, trying his best to be soothing and comforting, in the way Damian would never allow while conscious.  

That’s how Alfred found him when he came down to check on Damian’s vitals some time later.  

“I knew,” Dick said, laying his head down in his arm next to Damian, “that he wasn’t treated well.  I knew his training was bad.  But Alfred-” he had to pause, because his voice broke and he had to clear his throat.  

When he looked up at Alfred, he noticed his vision was blurring, and he couldn’t even find it in him to wipe the tears away.  “I didn’t know it was this bad,” he whispered, just letting himself cry right in front of everyone for once in his life, “God, Alfred, how do we fix this?  No wonder he doesn’t trust me.  He doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Master Dick,” Alfred said, rounding the bed to place a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “I believe at this point, all we can do is be there for him.  Remind him of our love and be patient with him.  It is not as hopeless as you might think.”

“What if he never trusts us?” Dick said, sitting up and rubbing at his face, “Never believes us?”

Alfred just pat at his shoulder and said, “If we do not give him a reason to distrust us, he will, eventually.”

“He thought I was going to hurt him,” Dick whispered, turning his attention to his little brother’s face.  To the peaceful, sleeping, baby face of Damian Wayne.  “Whoever he thought I was, at least.  He thought-”

Alfred just squeezed his shoulder.

“How could they?  Alfred, how could they?”  After pushing Damian’s hair back and giving him another kiss on the forehead, Dick laid his head back down, right next to Damian’s, and let himself feel all the pain Damian never indulged in himself.  All the while, Alfred stood next to him, his hand still offering that comfort on his back as he cried.

- - -

Damian woke late that morning, nearly near lunch time.  Dick had carried him up to the penthouse, so he’d be in a more comfortable environment when he woke.  As much as Dick knew Damian loved the bunker, he figured waking up to a warm living room would be better than waking up in a dark, steel cave.

“Grayson,” he said, his voice thick with sleep, “What happened?”

Dick, who had been sitting on the floor, his back to the couch Damian was laying on, turned and smiled at Damian.  His hair was a mess and he was rubbing at his face like a normal little 10-year-old, annoyed at being woken for school so early.

“Dami, hey pal,” he said softly, grabbing the remote and muting the television he’d been watching, “How are you feeling?”

After sitting up, Damian scrunched his eyebrows at Dick, in that way he always did when trying to decide what to share with Dick.

“Honest assessment,” Dick added, softening his face to convey to Damian that he wasn’t going to be mad about anything.

“Minor headache.  That is all.”

Nodding, because that was probably accurate, Dick asked, “What do you remember?”

Damian took a long minute to think, his eyes narrowed before he finally said, “Patrol… Crane. We were fighting Crane, but then…. I- I’m not sure.” He looked at Dick, then around the room, as if he were checking out the environment to compare against the memories he had.  Trying to figure out how he got from one place to the other.

“You got dosed with fear toxin.”

“Ah,” Damian said, the confusion on his face completely vanishing as he nodded, “That would explain it.”

“Do you want to talk about what you saw?”

“No.”  The word wasn’t sharp, but it was quick to come, and Dick knew he probably had to accept it.  It didn’t mean Dick wasn’t going to talk about what Damian saw.  

“Okay,” he said, pushing himself up onto the couch next to Damian, “Can I have a hug?”

“Why?” Damian asked slowly, looking over at Dick skeptically.  Not with fear, though, Dick was relieved to see.  Just confusion and maybe a touch of disdain.  Damian really did hate physical affection, didn’t he?

“It’s been a rough night.”

“Were you injured?”

“No,” Dick said, smiling again, “But the kid I love dearly had to be sedated.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, rolling his eyes as he looked away.  But a second later, he leaned toward Dick, the only invitation to pull him in for a hug Dick was going to get. 

So Dick did, squeezing as tight as he could without Damian protesting.  “I love you,” he whispered, fighting back the tears again, because apparently he was a mess now, “So much, Damian.  You have no idea.  Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

“Did I say something,” Damian asked slowly, not pulling away but not melting into Dick’s embrace either, “while incapacitated?”

“Not really.  You were pretty quiet.  I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

Damian nodded and whispered after a minute or so, “I know.”

“And you know I’d never hurt you, right?  No matter what?  Not as a punishment, not as training, nothing.  I’ll never hurt you.”

“What did I say?” Damian demanded, shifting in Dick’s arms, turning his back a little more so his shoulder was resting against Dick’s chest.

“You didn't say anything.”

“Clearly I said something,” Damian said dryly, still wiggling in Dick’s arms until he was in a more comfortable position.

Dick had to stifle a smile at that, because not only was Damian allowing a hug, but he was basically snuggling down so Dick could just hold him.  He was probably telling himself it was for Dick, but Dick knew he didn’t have that level of patience for unwanted physical affection.  This was wanted.  

“What do you think you said?” Dick asked, bringing a hand up to comb through Damian’s hair.  To try and tame the bed head that had developed throughout the night.

The silence stretched, even as Damian reached up and grabbed Dick’s hand, pulling it away from his hair and back down around himself.

When Damian continued to stay silent, Dick asked, “Is this a fear you have, Damian?”

“No.”

And there was that word again.  That lie.  Because this time, it was said with less conviction.  With hesitancy.  And Dick knew that this time, if he just stayed quiet, Damian would start talking.

“I know it’s different here.”

“Good.  Good,” Dick said, shifting himself on the couch, throwing one leg up on it, so he could lay back a tad more comfortably with Damian, “That’s… good.”

“I…” Damian said slowly, very softly, “I like it here.”

“I like having you here, Damian.  I love having you here.”

As Dick started caressing Damian’s arm, just allowing the silence to envelop them, he realized.  Damian had never mentioned liking being there.  He’d never said anything about his preference of where he lived.  

Like he didn’t want to get his hopes up.  Didn’t want to admit to someone he even had a preference. It was always just ‘acceptable,’ the plans they made.  Moving to the penthouse. Dick being his guardian and Batman.  Fighting crime and being homeschooled.  

‘Don’t send me back,’ he had begged.

“And no matter what you do,” Dick said, squashing down all the emotions that bubbled up at that, “I’ll never make you leave, either.  This is your home, Damian, and you’re always welcome in it.”

Damian nodded and turned around so his face was half hidden in Dick’s shirt, so Dick let him.  He pulled the blanket down from the back of the couch and over them as he pretended not to notice Damian cry his silent cry.  

Carefully, Dick reached down to the floor for the remote and unmuted the television, allowing the sound of the Nature Channel take over the room, and he spent the rest of the morning laying there with his little brother.  Just holding him and reminding him he’s loved.

[meat-husband]

Slashers morning and night routine? Just waking up and going to sleep hc (fluff)

I love this idea!! This was really cute to think of, I’m weak for little everyday domestic things. 

Brahms

You are expected to follow the schedule he already has set up, but as much as he will whine and pout about not staying on track, he really doesn’t care much about most of it. He likes sleeping in, so you usually get up and have breakfast ready before he’s even crawled out of bed. 

He prefers when you stay in bed so he can wake up with you there, and most days it’s so hard to get untangled from his limbs that you give in and stay in bed anyways. But then he’s impatient and grumpy when food doesn’t magically appear on the table and he has to wait for it to be made like some kind of peasant. 

How he wakes up pretty much sets the mood for the rest of the day, so you try extra hard to make sure he’s happy first thing in the morning so you don’t have to deal with a brat later on. Sometimes he’s just difficult regardless, but usually you can coax him into a calmer attitude by indulging in some long morning snuggles. 

Of course, when he goes to bed the goodnight kiss is the most important part, and it is non negotiable. Don’t try to withhold it for any reason, no matter how badly he’s behaved, otherwise you’re not getting any sleep until he’s been smooched.

He will usually let himself be tucked in and kissed goodnight in the old child’s bed, even though it’s a bit too small now. Once you’re out of the room, he goes into the walls to sleep in his real bed, and will wake up at some point in the early morning to come crawl into bed with you. 

Rarely, he’ll go straight to your bed to sleep, and it’s usually because he’s feeling really lonely or jealous. Either way, he clings to you the whole night and once you’re in bed, you’re not getting out until he’s awake and ready to let you go. 

Michael

Most of the time he’s already awake by the time you get up, or he hasn’t gone to sleep at all. He won’t leave the bed until you do though, waiting until you’ve crawled over him to struggle out of bed before he gets up himself. 

If he’s taking a shower at all, this is usually when it would happen. He doesn’t do it on his own, but waits for you to start one and scares the shit out of you by jerking the curtain open when you least expect it. 

If you have to leave in the morning, he probably will too, usually to follow you around. Otherwise he’s pretty lazy, and will just sit around most of the morning, watching you. 

You’re never really sure when he gets home or into bed, you just go to sleep alone and some time in the night you awake to find that you have no blankets and your pillow has been stolen. He might not fall asleep, but he’s gonna get comfy while he’s there. 

If a miracle occurs and he is asleep, you cannot risk waking him for any reason - stay home from work, silence your phone and get comfortable, because you’re going to be laying completely still in absolute silence for the foreseeable future. He doesn’t sleep for long, but it’s rare enough for him to get more than a half hour at a time that you can’t bring yourself to possibly do something that could wake him. 

Very, very groggy when he wakes up and has no idea where he is or what’s going on for the next fifteen minutes, so he just lays there for a while. Probably the most relaxed you’ll ever see him, and this is a prime opportunity to sneak some cuddles and kisses while he’s off guard. 

Bubba

He always wakes up before you, ready to get his chores started before the sun is even up. Breakfast won’t be ready for hours, so he’ll be outside the whole time, getting as much done as he can before the sun comes up. 

If there’s a rare opportunity to sleep in for once, he still wakes up first, used to being up much earlier, but he just lays in bed and enjoys being cuddled up and warm while you sleep. You’ll probably be woken up by his enthusiastic snuggling, he can’t stay still for long. 

Usually ready for a nap after breakfast, but since you’ve just gotten up he either takes it on the couch or just falls asleep in a comfortable chair on the porch. The house is probably empty by this point, so he can get away with a quick snooze while no one is watching. 

His bed is rather small, even for just him, so he’s a gentleman and allows you to get in first and scoots in once you’re settled. Always sleeps on the edge of the bed closest to the door, so that you can’t accidentally fall off if he takes up too much room. 

You can go to sleep in the most comfortable, cozy position imaginable, but you’re going to end up laying over his chest no matter what. He likes to spread out and there’s not much room, so he’ll just scoop you up, take over the bed, and let you use him as a mattress. 

He’s always throwing his limbs around, smacking you in the face with an arm or trapping you with a leg thrown over both of yours. If you can get him to lay still at all, his arm makes a great pillow after he inevitably throws the real ones to the floor. 

Thomas

His sleeping patterns are all over the place, and it usually depends on how much meat needs to be taken care of in the basement. He tries to keep it sort of lined up with yours, but he can work the whole day before he needs to stop, so he loses track of time easily. 

Doesn’t like getting up early, he’d prefer to sleep until noon, but he’ll get himself up if there’s work to do. If he is asleep when you have to wake up, it’s a hard task to get out of his arms because he will sleep right through your struggling and he’s impossible to move. 

Do not wake him up when he’s sleeping, he’s super grumpy and annoyed when he isn’t left to wake up on his own. Unless there’s an emergency going on, you’re just going to have to wait. 

It’s a miracle you get any sleep at all, because he snores impossibly loud and always right next to your ear. He likes to lay half over you, face against your neck, so you can’t escape the noise. 

He has a bedroom upstairs, which you promptly take over, but he usually sleeps in the basement just because it’s convenient. He’ll want to bring you downstairs, but if you don’t want to sleep five feet away from a crime scene, it’s easy enough to coax him upstairs. 

He’s a big cuddler, and he’s warm. If you’re sleeping upstairs, then you’re going to overheat quickly, but he’s not letting you out of his grasp no matter how sweaty you get. It’s nice in the basement where it’s cooler, and you can stick your hands under his shirt to keep your fingers warm. 

Jason

He doesn’t really sleep, just sort of goes still for a little while, closing his eyes and breathing so slowly he might not be breathing at all. You’re not sure if he actually needs to do it, or if he just does it to match you. 

Since he’s not really sleeping, he’s pretty much always immediately ready to get up and start the day. He’ll bring you coffee, brush out your hair, start the shower, and have your clothes picked out and ready by the time you get out. 

He would love to bring you breakfast in bed, but he’s only barely got the hang of using the coffee maker, so he’s limited to granola bars and cereal, which just doesn’t feel special enough. He will very enthusiastically help you make something though, and even if he doesn’t need to eat either, he’ll still take a few bites if you offer him some. 

There is a very strict curfew enforced in this household, so you’ve got to be back at the cabin at a certain time or he’ll come looking for you. There’s no bedtime, really, but you’ll get some disapproving looks if you try and turn him away when he offers to tuck you in at the late, late hour of 10PM. 

He likes to be the one holding you, preferably with your face buried into his chest and his legs tangled with yours. The closer the better, but if you toss and turn he’ll let you wiggle around and then just wrap around you again. 

He’s on the cooler side when it comes to body heat, so when it gets cold out you’re covered with at least two blankets to make up for it. It’s nice in the summer to have someone who is the human version of the cool side of the pillow though. 

[lindzem]

Casino Toil

The sun was setting over the glistening ocean as Pitch finished up his final planting. He stood, bones creaking a bit as he stretched. Gazing out at the multitude of colorful blooming flowers he felt very proud. He was very lucky to have gotten this gardening job at the world famous Frostgrand casino. As much as he really didn’t like kneeling in mud and mulch all day, it paid for his own one bedroom apartment so he couldn’t complain.

Just as he was gathering his tools, he saw more and more limousines pulling up at he casino entrance. Rich socialites and gambling addicts from all over the world came to enjoy themselves here, but Pitch knew the darker side to the glitz and glamour too.

All sorts of illegal filth came to mingle together from oil barons, to mob bosses, to black market dealers. The money, drugs, and sex was deeply intoxicating, but it rotted humans from the inside out. Pitch had to admit the fame and fortune did have its magnetic attractions, but he never wanted to be involved with such despicable thugs.

Pitch walked off around to the back of the casino and went inside a simpler service entrance. He took the time to care for his equipment, cleaning and sorting it for the next day’s work. Just as he was about to put on his own coat, his boss Jason practically kicked the door open and yelled.

“Black, where do you think you’re going?!”

Pitch startled and looked over.

“I-I was just going home sir---”

Again his boss bellowed, stinking of alcohol. Pitch knew he got angry when he drank and the man was always threatening to fire Pitch for even the smallest dirt scuffs on the floor.

“You ain’t going nowhere yet! The prince will be here soon! Our best male stripper came down with the flu and all our others are busy right now, so you put this on and get your ass upstairs to the Fun room now!”

A skimpy black sequined and velvet laced outfit was thrown in Pitch’s face. Pitch caught the outfit and looked mortified.

“The Fun room-!? B-But I’m not--”

He was interrupted quickly.

“NO BUTS OR YOU’RE FIRED!”

The door slammed again and Pitch was left holding the outfit in a stunned silence for a few minutes. He looked down at it and whispered.

“Prince!? And I’m pretending to be a stripper--oh fucking hell...”

After another minute to try to get his courage up, the man took the outfit and ventured out into the actual casino. It was a rare privilege, but occasionally he was allowed to run small errands. He made sure to stick to the walls and not disturb any of the patrons who were having a roaring good time. The sounds of laughter, cards, and slot machines mixed with the scents of alcohol, perfume, and cigarettes.

Pitch carefully made his way around and over to the spiral staircase that lead to the private upper floors. No one was allowed up there unless they were invited specifically. An armed body guard in a suit stood by the railing as Pitch approached.

“I...I was told to go up to the Fun room.”

The guard nodded and let him through. Pitch took another deep breath and walked up the marble staircase. He ventured down the long hall which had many different rooms and one could be absolutely positive all sorts of unsavory things were going on in them.

Finally at the end of the hall another guard stood in front of a large all white double door set. He listened to his earpiece and then opened the door without question to let Pitch inside. Pitch strode in cautiously, looking around at all of the magnificent and regal decorative furnishings everywhere. the room was fit for a king, or in his case, a prince.

He startled again out of his own thoughts at a woman coming out from the on-suite bathroom. He then sighed when he saw it was just Jill, another stripper and talented makeup artist for all the other guys and gals who worked here. He’d had a drink with her a few times outside in the garden when she was off duty and ranting about how she hated Jason.

“Jill, what’s going on? This can’t be right, I’m not a-”

She sighed and walked over to him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to sit down in a chair in front of a large mirror.

“Yeeeeah I know, look, I’m sorry. I was the one who accidentally mentioned you to Jason when he was freaking out.”

Pitch eyed her as she began to comb his hair.

“You offered me up as a replacement stripper?!”

She laughed a little and sprayed him with some sultry smelling cologne with patchouli and amber tones.

“Hey hey, take it as a compliment! AND I made sure Jason would give you a nice bonus check for this, so it’s gonna be fine.”

He retorted as she began to put eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara on him.

“You do realize I’m pretending to be a stripper in front of the Prince!?”

She whistled and giggled.

“Wow, well Jason didn’t mention that part. But hey, it’s still gonna be fiiine I promise! All you gotta do is give him a lap dance and kiss him a bit. Maybe.”

The anxiety was mounting in Pitch as Jill finished his black lipstick.

“I can’t do this, I just can’t.”

Jill kissed Pitch’s cheek and smiled.

“You’ll be ok! Just don’t do anything to piss the prince off and you’re golden. Oh, and he likes these.”

Before Pitch could say anything Jill set down a pair of black stiletto high heels and left the room all together. He felt trapped and worried beyond belief. With shaking hands he took off his own clothes and slipped on the skimpy outfit. Surprisingly it all fit him well enough and he started pacing back and forth with sheer dread.

He didn’t even hear the door open a few minutes later until a voice piped up.

“Oh, they told me I’d be getting a new guy tonight.”

Pitch whirled around in a froze in fear upon seeing the prince standing there staring at him. Prince Jack Frostgrand, heir to the throne. He looked young and from what Pitch remembered from the newspapers, the boy was turning 18 soon. His dyed all white hair was more of a jab at his own strict parents, but he wore surprisingly casual clothes for a royal family member. A blue hoodie, brown pants, and sandals.

“Y-Your highness!”

Pitch bowed and Jack waved his hand as the guard closed the door.

“Usually Stefano is already waiting for me in some bondage, but its whatever. You do look a little...older.”

Pitch took a tiny opportunity.

“Well, if that doesn’t please you my grace, then I can certainly leave--”

Jack stopped him with a laugh.

“Nah, I’m feeling adventurous tonight! Let’s unwind and have fun~”

Jack walked over and shoved Pitch’s chest causing him to fall backwards onto the bed. Jack crawled up and straddled the man, blue eyes looking hungrily all over him. Pitch swore he felt his heart beating in his throat. Jack leaned down and kissed Pitch’s nose softly.

“Cuz I’m turning 18 tonight and you’re gonna give me one hell of a birthday show~”