#jason: not remotely. but first things first *coughs blood* what are you wearing

[ragnarokhound]

puts this on your list of things to do

Skcnwksks *adds another stone atop the mountain, and the world sinks another inch closer to hell

But okay fr. I actually read Knight Terrors: Robin today, and with the enormous grain of salt that I am working mostly with fandom osmosis, esp re: their established relationship, I think they alllllmost wrote something that worked. Almost. Long rambling nitpicks under the cut:

I think if they had about three more pages they could have established Tim and Jason's relationship and their problems with working together a little better; and either cut Babs out as the middle man who introduced their individual issues to the audience, or used her more effectively as a mediator.

They very clearly wanted to showcase two problems: Tim is working himself to death trying to save everyone, and Jason is suffering by insisting on working alone. Good! I like this concept. It's annoying to me that Babs is the one who tries to reach out to both of them about these issues, gets rebuffed, and then is never heard from again. I'd much prefer it if they tried to talk to each other on their own and it went poorly at first, only to be forced to open up in the nightmare realm. It would tighten up their combined arc if they'd had one single conversation before the Inciting Incident occurs.

Like, don't get me wrong. I am waffling about this because Babs is a good entry voice to help introduce our primary actors. She is the person they have in common, and by having her be the voice in their ear, we see that other people in their support networks are worried about them.

But man, why not just have Tim monologue to himself about being ready to wrap up his third bust of the night and consider hitting up Jason to see if he needs help on the intergang drug bust he's in the middle of. It could be on Tim's way to the next place he's going, demonstrating that he's stretching himself thin and looking for even more to do; even with people like Jason who he isn't all that close with. And then Tim and Jason have their own snarky conversation (with some veiled flirting) about not needing each other's help or each other's nagging, and that's when the nightmare mist hits.

Because the story is only tangentially about people other than Jason and Tim. They're both too wrapped up in their own problems to notice other people reaching out to them about their fucked behavior. So Babs could have been used as a yardstick for each of them - Tim dismissed her fears at first, Jason hung up on her outright - but only if she comes back.

If Babs had also been there at the end to check in with them, yeah, it might have lessened the impact of Jason's plea for help and getting only Tim in response, but it would have been the indicator that they were now ready to hear the worries expressed by their loved ones. A very *clear* indicator of what has changed in the narrative that justifies Babs' involvement in the first place. You could have her come in right as Tim and Jason are catching up after the initial plea, having just escaped her own nightmare (*editors note: see Babs' knight terrors issue, lmao). She could groggily direct them to someone who needs help. All three of them are working together now, Tim and Jason are on their way to opening up to more people; huzzah

And hell. If you want to justify why Tim knows stuff about Jason he shouldn't - or why Jason might know something about Tim that he shouldn't for that matter - a little extra time spent together in the nightmare zone is great for that. Make them see each other's worst memories. Make them see each other's defining moments. Make it the twisted, terrible, self-directed-blame version of events that exists in their heads, and then they can separately call bullshit.

You literally put them into a shared mind palace!! Why did Tim know that about Sheila? Because he just saw it in Jason's head. How does Jason know Tim has a savior complex too big to shoulder? Same deal. IMO, this would have made their insistence that the other person is better than they think much more natural. It's not an empty sentiment because 'I've literally seen what you think of yourself and I am telling you that it isn't true'. (They're in a shared mindscape. Why not imply that they are seeing what the other is seeing too. That they're having a shared experience and are privy to each other's thoughts, emotions, and memories? Easy to do. "I feel like I'm walking to class in the 10th grade...but when I was that age, I was 6 feet under." "And I'm positive I'm picking up ammo for a gun I don't own. I think it's safe to say we're sharing a dream.")

I'm also ??? about why the nightmare zone let them talk at all?? Maybe that's something that we don't have time to explain/ it doesn't need explaining, but if I were a terrible nightmare creature and I was menacing two people at once, I simply wouldn't let them exist in the same space. Isolation is key to breaking someone's will. If you let them talk to each other they could help each other. Fool. Buffoon. Literally the only reason to let them talk to each other is if you think they'll make each other worse lmao.

There was a clever visual trick in which Jason hits the void barrier and Tim sees the ripples he makes - but iirc that is the closest we get to an explanation of how they might be breaking through to each other. And it happened after they were almost done with their second conversation. Too little, too late, IMO.

Arguments could be made that they were able to break through because they were approaching a hard limit. Jason hears Tim again when he yells at his double to shut up, when Jason himself is just about ready to throw in the towel. The moment of deepest despair, the realization for both of them that they're not cut out to solve the problem with their current method. Something something, breaking the pattern - but why let them, unless the nightmare can't do anything about it? I do like a monster with a secret weakness, so I'm willing to let it slide now that I've talked it out lol but still. It feels like an unearned conversation when the only convo they had before was mostly exposition.

Anyway. Tldr; if the writers had a few more pages and shown us Tim and Jason's conflict with each other rather than water it down via Babs (OR BROUGHT HER BACK TO TIE IT ALL UP WITH A BOW) it would have been a tighter & more interesting story.

[camsthisky]

"you’re not alone . you’re stuck with me forever . sorry . ” + Jason and Dick (and anyone other family member)?

“Everyone okay?” Dick croaks as the dust and rubble settles around them. He’s lying on his back, kept still by something pinning his legs down. He doesn’t dare assess himself quite yet. “Hood? Batgirl?”

“Okay,” Cass says, and Dick watches as she stumbles over to him, looking dusty, but relatively alright. She kneels next to him with a frown. She meets his eyes—well, relatively since they’re both wearing masks—and asks, “Okay?”

Dick grimaces. “Not really.” Louder, he calls, “Red Hood?!”

“Here, here,” Jason says, coughing into his fist. He’s missing his helmet and there’s a gash sluggishly bleeding from his right cheek, smearing a trail of blood down his face. He’s also limping, but only slightly.

“Can you move?” Cass asks Dick as Jason pulls out his flashlight.

Dick winces at the sudden light, his mask having already automatically switched to night vision. He huffs. “Jay. Off.”

“Names.”

Dick scowls. “The light.”

“Deal with it,” Jason snaps. “My night vision isn’t working.”

Dick turns off his own night vision feature, if only to not be blinded by the damn flashlight if it passes over his eyes again.

That’s when Jason’s flashlight lands on where Dick is pinned.

“Crap,” Jason breathes.

“Can you move them?” Cass asks, sounding a touch more impatient, and Dick realizes that Cass has already asked once. “Your legs.”

“No,” says Dick, just barely trying. He’s tired, but he knows that time is up. He can’t get away with ignoring his own situation any longer. Probably shouldn’t have even waited this long. His legs are tingling from lack of blood flow, mixing with a sharp pain shooting through them both. Still he’s lucky, because—���I can still feel them, though.”

“We’ll lift,” Jason says to Cass, who nods. Dick closes his eyes and braces himself for the inevitable pain of rubble being lifted off his crushed legs.

“Hhh.”

The sounds he makes is nothing more than an agonized hissed through his teeth, and Dick can’t help the cold sweat that sweeps across his body in a slow wave as his siblings manage to move the slab of—wall, maybe? who knows, really—from where it’s crushing his poor legs.

Something taps against his shinbone and then his kneecap.

“Stop, stop, I feel it,” Dick gasps, bringing his legs up in a protective curl as pain throbs through most of his lower body. His left hip hurts like hell, and his every muscle, bone, and tendon feels like they’ve been squeezed and then flattened like a pancake. He rolls over onto his side so he can bring his knees up to his chest, to wait out the lingering intensity of the pain.

“Breathe,” Cass says.

Dick breathes.

He closes his eyes and blocks out everything and, again, just breathes. His siblings let him.

When he has a better grasp on his agony, Dick finally relaxes. The world filters back in. Cass is running fingers through Dick’s dusty hair (something she one hundred percent learned from Bruce, because only a select few know how much the motion tends to calm him down).

On the other hand, Dick blinks his eyes open to find Jason agitatedly pacing.

“The hell?” Jason murmurs, his flashlight whipping back and forth with his movements as he surveys their surroundings. “Did we get completely sealed in?”

Dick wishes desperately he would stop. Even without night vision, Jason’s impromptu strobe light effect is causing Dick’s head to ache. Instead of saying this, he hums contemplatively. “Wonder if there’s a signal this far down.”

Jason huffs, not slowing in the least. He’s searching for something, and dear god does Dick want him to find it already. “You’re the one with the comms in your ear. You try it.”

They’re in the sewers, is the thing. And while Bruce and Babs have designed the comms system to work incredibly well, even in the sewers, the signal still needs to be able to make it to the system in order to be functional.

With the three of them sealed in this place, seemingly with no way out, pretty deep in the sewer system where they had been disabling bombs throughout the city, Dick isn’t optimistic about their chances of getting a signal.

(They’d just been a few seconds too late for that last bomb, which unfortunately led them to their current circumstances.)

While Jason grumbles, Cass activates her emergency signal and the comms. She calls out, “Batman? Oracle?”

Jason shuts up for the five seconds before Cass looks between both Dick and Jason and shakes her head.

Dick lets out a slow exhale through his nose. He hadn’t really held out much hope for that anyways.

Jason groans. “Holy batcannoli, I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. And where’s my hecking helmet?!”

Cass helpfully points to the rubble sealing them in. Jason kicks a rock with a yell. Dick sighs.

“Well, at least you’re not alone down here,” Dick says as optimistically as he can—although, given the circumstances, it does fall a little flat.

Jason snorts. “Right. Sure, Batgirl is an asset, but you’re a sack of bruised bones right now. That’s not helpful in the slightest, Dickface.”

Dick’s eyelashes flutter of their own accord. He hums. “Too bad. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Sorry.”

“Dick,” Cass says, her fingers tracing lightly over his face. “Stay awake.”

“I am awake.”

“You’re starting to—” Cass pauses. Dick can’t see the look on her face, because somehow, his eyes have fully closed without his permission, and he can’t seem to find the strength to open them again. “—to slur.”

The sounds of Jason’s pacing stop. Silence rings loud in their sealed section of the sewers. Then, “Did he hit his head?”

“Not sure,” Cass answers.

“Dick,” Jason says, sounding quite a bit closer, like he’s maybe crouching down next to Cass or something—but Dick hadn’t heard him move, and Jason’s boots are too clunky to not make sound against the concrete. “Dick, did you hit your head?”

Dick’s eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t remember hitting his head. The only thing he clearly remembers about the blast is heavy pieces of rubble crushing his legs. “Maybe?”

“Great,” Jason says. He’s pulling out his I’m-rolling-my-eyes-at-your-ridiculous-incompetency voice. “So my bruised bones of a big brother probably also has a concussion. Just great.”

“It’s not his fault he’s injured,” Cass tells Jason. “He was disarming the bomb.”

Which means Dick took the brunt of the blast when it was remotely activated.

Dick really means to tack onto Cass’s statement, maybe tease Jason a little and try to reassure both his younger siblings that not everything is hopeless, because he’s the best big brother ever, of course.

Only, he can’t find the strength to open his mouth and talk. Instead, the voices around him become watery, distorted, and Dick’s head flares in pain.

When unconsciousness comes to take him, he doesn’t resist.

—

“—manage to even find us in the first place?” is the first thing Dick hears as he swims back to consciousness. Jason almost sounds relieved.

“The seismic device didn’t just affect the sewers,” someone replies. It takes a lot of effort for Dick to recognize it as Tim. “A couple buildings partially collapsed, and since we knew the three of you were down here, it was a good starting point to look when none of you would answer the comms.”

“Huh,” is all Jason says.

“Nightwing,” Bruce says, startling Dick from the dazed lull he’d been in as he listened to his brothers talking. He opens his eyes, blinking up bewilderingly at what he can see of Bruce’s face behind the cowl.

“B?” Dick murmurs. He doesn’t move, yet, from where’s curled on his side, but he feels an abortive twitch of his fingers at the reassuring sight of Batman. “‘S goin’ on?”

“What do you remember?”

Right. Bruce did not give easy answers. Life is a series of puzzles, Dick Grayson, fueled by none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

Dick frowns and casts his mind back. “The wall blew up,” he decides. “I got hurt?”

He’s only half sure about that last one, but considering his position on the ground, the throbbing in his head and hip, and Bruce’s concerned dad frown that’s taking over his Batman grimace, Dick thinks that he’s probably on the right track.

“Concussion,” Cass says, startling Dick when she pops her head over Bruce’s shoulder. “Also, ‘a sack of bruised bones.’”

That—sounds familiar. He thinks he remembers Jason saying something like that.

Bruce’s frown gets deeper. “Straighten your legs.”

“Please,” Dick tacks on for Bruce when he lacks the manners to be nice, basically on instinct at this point, even as he—slowly, and with a great deal of agony—does what Bruce tells him to do.

They go through a couple more tests, until finally Bruce, unhappy, deems, “We need to move you.”

Dick blinks when Bruce turns away to murmur something to one of the others. A conversation washes over him, and Dick can’t help but let himself tune it out. The noise settles as vague humming—indistinct and comforting.

“—two, three,” Bruce says as Dick’s entire vision goes white.

He only manages to come back to himself in increments.

There are arms holding him tight. Familiar murmurs in his ear. The comforting sound of Batman’s heavy cape brushing against concrete.

“—there, Chum,” Bruce is saying, and if Dick had the capability, he would have teased Bruce for pulling out both the concerned dad frown and the concerned dad voice in one night.

As it is, the only thing that comes out of his mouth when he opens it are harsh pants for air. Every step jostles him, and agony is his constant companion throughout the entire journey to the surface.

Somehow, Dick is still conscious when he’s laid down in the backseat of the batmobile. He’s grateful he’s not moving anymore, and carefully doesn’t think of the upcoming ride back to the Cave.

He only really starts to relax when Bruce settles the cape over him. Wrapped up inside it, Dick almost feels like he’s ten years old again. Batman’s has always felt like warmth and protection and home. This time is no different.

“Batgirl and Robin, keep Nightwing as still as possible. Red Hood, in the front. Start updating Oracle.”

“Why do they—”

“You’re too bulky, Hood. Me and Batgirl are smaller than you. It’s still going to be a tight fit, but it’s the most comfortable for everyone this way.”

“Whatever.”

“Enough. Car. Now.”

There’s lots of careful but hurried scrambling. Dick thinks he passes out a few times on the way back. He doesn’t remember much, either. Just bits and snatches here and there—His siblings talking to him, Bruce giving orders, Jason being snappy and unwittingly dragging Tim into an argument.

And then—he wakes up. A lot more clear-headed than he’d felt the last time he’d been conscious (though, that wasn’t saying much).

To Dick’s surprise, he’s on his side again, dressed in sweats with a pillow between his legs. He opens his eyes to the Wayne Manor living room, and—yes, he’s on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but it’s clearly sometime past sunrise.

Bruce is sitting cross-legged in front of him, reading a book.

“Bruce?” Dick calls, his voice still somewhat slurred. “Why’m I on the couch?”

“You started crying when I said you had to stay in the infirmary,” Bruce tells him, grabbing a bookmark and setting his book off to the side.

Dick frowns. He doesn’t remember that. Still, he manages to say, “You’re such a pushover.”

“How do you feel?”

Dick blinks a dozen times in a row, trying to assess his body and keep up with the change in subject. “Kinda woozy. My hip hurts a lot.”

“Hn.”

“Think I need to brush up on my Bat speak,” Dick murmurs. “Dunno what that one meant.”

Bruce hums again. “You’re incredibly lucky. We’ll need to be careful for the next few weeks.”

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?”

“Crush injuries to your legs and left hip. Not overly severe, and we managed to stabilize you once we realized you were in shock.”

Dick thinks about that for a second. “Concussion? I’m pretty sure I remember something about a concussion.”

“It’s mild,” Bruce tells him. “It was the shock that was the real problem.”

“Oh.” Dick sighs into the pillow under his head. “I’m tired.”

Bruce gives him a soft smile, just slight enough that if Dick hadn’t been so familiar with Bruce’s microexpressions, he would have thought he’d been mistaken. Fingers lightly card through his hair, and Dick’s eyes start closing of their own accord.

“Then sleep,” Bruce says.

Dick sleeps.

[imagination-of-a-fandom-slut]

“Nice To Meet You”

Shameless Preferences, Enjoy! (Media pieces aren’t mine, credit to owners)

Carl: (Alley) "Look at the little white boy, trying act all big and bad and black." Laughed my big brother, Jason as he and his friends pushed a kid with cornrows back and forth between them. I rolled my eyes and friend between Carlos and Ricky, breaking the pushing cycle.

"Leave him alone jackasses. Jason, we need to go, mom wants us to grab milk and be home for dinner by six." Jason's friends laugh and he gives me a stern look, telling me to go away.

"Damn ma you fine." I look at the boy with cornrows and take him in he was wearing a few gold chains, that was the only thing that screamed anything even remotely 'gangster' like other than that he wore a plain white t-shirt, a red, green and black flannel, a pair of blue jeans and black converses,

"Fuck off," I warn turning back to Jason.

"Y/N, just cover for me, I'm going to be home late." He then grabs my wrist and pulls me out the circle and they continue to terrorize the kid.

"Jason, I'm tired of covering for you, leave the damn boy alone, say bye to your friends and let's go get the milk." Jason turns around, lightly shoves me and turns to his friends again,

"Fuck off little sis, I'm busy here." I rub my hands together and blow into them, "Okay, now where were we,  listen, Gallagher, I want my money by Friday or I'm going to hunt you down and we don't want that do we?" I roll my eyes, my brother tried so hard the act badass. I looked over his shoulder to find the Gallagher kid smirking before he starts to throw punches, shit, dude's crazy. He gets a few good ones in until the numbers come back to bite him in the ass. My brother hits him in the face a few times and knees him in the stomach until he's coughing up blood,

"Okay, okay, that's enough, next person to throw a punch gets tased, let him go." I pull my taser out of my coat pocket, turning it on, pushing the button a few times. "Let him go," I say again this time a little sterner and everyone lets him go, my brother lightly chuckling,

"You wouldn't, you'll a bunch of pussies, she won't do it." He lifts his fist to deliver another punch to the kid and I sigh, shoving the taser into his side, pushing the button. "Shit." He groans falling to the floor, shaking from the bolts going through his body,

"I told you to let him go." I turn my taser of stuffing it back into my coat pocket and I put my hand out, and he grabs it hesitantly before I help him to his feet.

"Thanks but I had it." I nod and turn to walk away, I hear him following behind me in a light jog, "I'm Carl by the way."

"I know who you are. Shit! it's ten after six, mom's going to have my ass. Look it was nice to meet you, I gotta go. Also, if you want to avoid another ass whooping today, I'd run if I were you when Jason gets up he's going to be pissed." I wave before turning and breaking into a sprint around the corner of the alley.

"It was nice to meet you too!"

Debbie: (Next Door Neighbors)  "Veronica,  I don't know why you're so insisted on making me  make friends, I am perfectly fine being the loner-loser who stays on her phone all the time, my Tumblr keeps her company enough." I wave my phone at my sister who fakes a smile and snatches the phone from me,

"I want you to make friends while you're here, so you're not up, under my ass all the time and I don't understand what you find so interesting about Tumblr. Now,  put on your shoes and let's go." I sighed and tugged on my black converses.

"It's the porn by the way." I laughed, pushing past her and out the door.

"Yeah, you and the Gallagher kids will get along just fine." She closed the door and took lead, turning left and walking down one house, She walks through the gate and onto the porch, pushing into the house,

"Okay, no knocking." I follow her and close the door behind me,

"Hey V, oh who's she?" I look up, to find a woman who looked incredibly tired,

"Hey Fiona, this is my younger sister, Y/N this is my best friend in the whole world, Fi." Veronica and  Fiona hug. Fiona sticks her hand out and I shake it,

"Nice to meet you." We say at the same time, and V laughs.

"Is anyone home, she needs friends."

"I don't need friends, I have Tumblr." Veronica rolls her eyes this time,

"Fi?"

"Yeah, Debs is upstairs with Franny and Carl's in the shower, I sent Lip and Ian to the store." My sister pushes toward the stairs,

"First one from the bathroom, have fun." She waves me off and I drag myself up the stairs, knocking on the first door from the bathroom.

"Uh, come in."  I slowly push the door open to find a redhead, holding a baby on the bed, the rest of the room organized but still messy."Sorry, my room's a mess. Who are you?" She looked at me and smiled. I glared at her before shaking my head and sticking my hand out.

"I'm Y/N, Veronica's younger sister." She shakes my hand,

"V's never mentioned a sister, nice to meet you but I've got to put Franny to sleep, any chance you're good with babies?" I gently take the baby from her and begin to pace the room, rocking the baby while humming  'Hey Jude', soon the baby stopped her coos and soft whines, turned into light snores. "Holy shit you're good! We're going to be great friends."

Fiona: (Patsy's) I looked at the 'help wanted' sign once again, pulling my resume out of my bag, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. I walked in and to the counter, "Hello, is Fiona here?" The girl who's name tag read  'Sierra'.

"Yes, I'll go get her. Be right back." She smiled and walked through the swing doors and into the kitchen, then disappearing. A few seconds later a girl comes out, her hair is in a high ponytail with a blue streak of hair, her eyes are brown and big, she's wearing a white button up, the sleeves were rolled up and she had a wide smile,

"Hi, you must be Y/N, Lip's put in a good word for you, come let's have a seat please." We sat in the nearest, clean booth and I handed her my resume, she looked it over and sat in down, "Are you comfortable wearing that?" She points to Sierra at the register and I nod, "Are you positive, guys come in all the time and gawk." I nod,

"No guy's coming in and sweeping me off my feet, I'm strictly girls." Fiona raises her brows,

"Did you just come out to me?"  I shake my head pulling my jacket open showing her my pride pin,

"I'm as straight as a circle," Fiona laughs,

"Neat. Fiona don't judge, my younger brother Ian's gay."

"I know, Lip's told me. Now, when can I start?"

Ian: (Gay club) "Just come home with me, I promise you won't regret it." I heard someone slur, I looked down the dark alley, seeing the silhouettes of two people,

"I told you, I don't want to, please let me go, I have to work." The other person says and I can now hear they're both guys.

"I'll pay you half a grand, how can you turn down 500 dollars working where you do?" I gagged, the nerve of this guy. I had to save this guy.

"Hey, hey, dude, we've been looking everywhere for you," I call, waving my hand as I break into a light jog toward the two. As I got close I realized it was an older guy and a younger guy, the younger guy dressed in nothing but a black tie and sparkly gold shorts.

"Get out of here honey, we're handling business here." I roll my eyes and grab the younger guy's hand pulling him back toward the club, "I said scram." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my mace,

"I don't give a fuck what you said,"  I growl, spraying the mace into his eyes, he drops to the ground and I grab the hand of the guy, running and pulling him around the corner at the back of the club.

"He knows where I work, it won't be the last time I see him, but thanks for ya know saving me." I get a better look at the guy under the street lights and shit, he was attractive,

"You're welcome and if he bothers you again, mace his ass." I give him the mace and he laughs,

"I'm Ian by the way."  I shake his hand,

"I'm Y/N, nice to meet you, Ian."

"Nice to meet you too, you know what? You just saved me, come on in for a drink, on the house." He starts to walk around the corner avoiding the still bawling man in the alley,

"If you insist."

Lip: (College) Groaning, I woke from my sleep. My head pounding, lights shining through the blinds, "Shit." I grunt, covering my eyes. "Where the hell am I?" I roll over, and come face to face with some kid, sitting on the other bed in the dorm, watching me intently.

"Oh thank God, I thought you were dead. I mean you looked dead, and you got really drunk last night, just thank god you're up." I squinted at him, as he twiddled his thumbs, a relieved smile on his face. "Are you okay? Here. Take these, here's some orange juice." He handed me two Advil and a glass of orange juice. I sat up, and popped them in my mouth, swallowing them with the Oj.

"Thanks..." I trail on,

"Lip, it's Lip." He sticks his hand out and I shake it,

"Well, thank you Lip. I appreciate all the help, but I should get going." I flipped the covers back, I was naked. "Dude, what the hell?" I screeched, pulling the covers back over my body. I looked at him and he shrugged. "Did we have sex?"  

He quickly stood up, shaking his head, hands in the air. "You came in, shitfaced I may add,  took all your clothes off, bra and everything, I tried to give you some of my clothes but you just climbed into bed, going on about how you never sleep in clothes, and in seconds you were out." I laughed, running my hand down my face,

"Shit, dude, I'm sorry. I told myself last night I wouldn't have more than two shots. Fucking Courtney." I laugh, sitting up again, covers pulled up, covering my breasts. We stared at each other for another minute, "Well, since you saved me from a possible case, could I treat you to coffee?" He lips, scratching the side of his face,

"I mean it's only right."

Mandy: (Lip) "Yo, Y/N, you've got to meet Mandy, I think you and her would get along." Lip says as we lay on his bed, passing the joint back and forth.

"You think so? I mean goth really isn't my type." Lip scoffs and hits the joint,

"Mandy's not goth, she's misunderstood, she deserves more than the shit she gets." I take the joint from Lip's fingers and hit it,

"Damn, sorry." I chuckle and sits up,

"She's a sweet girl alright, give her a chance. For me." I nod and give him the joint,

"I'd love to meet the girl you defend so easily, must mean a ton." Lip shrugs,

"She's my only other girl, friend beside you and you know how I'd fucking kill someone over you." As if on cue a girl walks through the door, "Ah, speak of the devil, hey  Mandy." I sit up, sticking my hand out,

"Lip here was just talking about you, says he wanted us to meet." She shakes my hand as she mouths things to Lip, "I can read your lips, you're not even trying to hide what you're saying." Mandy cringes,

"Sorry, It's just Lip knows how I feel about new people." She sits on the floor and pulls a small box from her hoodie. "Anyway, my brother's dealer sent him a shit ton of weed to sell, and he gave me some, it's called 'God's Gift' heard it's loopy as fuck." Lip and I share a look,

"Light it up." Mandy opens the box to reveal already rolled joints, she pulls one out and reaches out for lighter. I light it for her and she hits it, eyes rolling to the back of her head,

"Holy fuck that's some good shit, here try." She hands it to me and I hit it once then climb off the bed and onto Mandy's lap, a leg on each side of her. "What are you doing?" I hit the joint and grab her chin and she opens her mouth, I blow the smoke into her mouth smiling,

"Holy shit." Lip sighs from behind us and I laugh climbing off Mandy's lap.

"My name is Y/N, nice to meet you, Mandy, I have a feeling we're going to get along just fine." I introduce myself as I lay back on Lip's bed both of them watching me in shock.

Mickey: (The Alibi Room) "Okay lil sis I trust you with this. All you have to do it make the drinks, take the money, hurt anyone who doesn't pay." I nod along to everything he says,

"One problem Kev, I'm seventeen, which makes it illegal for me to be in here and also I don't have a liquor license." Kev smiles,

"You've always looked older than you were, if someone questions it, deny, deny and deny some more." Kev kisses my forehead and rushes out the bar,

"Dammit." I mutter under my breath, "I forget how to open this damn thing." I sigh tapping the register.

~

The rest of the day went pretty smooth, with the occasional call to Kev, I wiped down the bar. "Listen, everyone, we close in five, tabs are due." People groan as they pull out their wallets. "Thank you, thank you, and thank you." I hit the register twice and put in the pin, I put the money where it goes and close the register. Just as everyone is leaving a guy walks in, "Dude what the fuck we close in five." He rushes in and behind the bar. A few cops rush n after his, hands on their guns.

"Ma'ma have you seen a man yay tall, short dark hair, wearing a green scarf?"I shake my head as I continue to wipe the bar down,

"No sir I have not." They thank me and rush back out the door. I wait a few seconds, "They're gone." I whisper and the guy pops up, "I like your scarf by the way." He smiles a smile that reads shut the fuck up and I put my hands up, "My bad, what they want you for anyway?" He gives me another look, "Will you at least tell me your name?" HE shifts on one foot before turning and walking around the bar, sitting on a stool,

"Give me a beer if you ant my life story." I look at him and rush to the door,  locking it and pulling the blinds down.  I pour him a beer and push it toward him,

"'It's on the house."