#she will pull whatever blanket is closest to the chaise part of the couch off and nest on it

[marmotsomsierost]

That blanket was carefully folded on the back of the couch, zelda. Why is it underneath you?

Alissa did not suffer through crocheting a seven foot long four feet wide blanket from raumagarn (wool) partly in a northern iowa summer for you to use it in your shenanigans, zelda.

It's a really lovely blanket, very warm and pretty stitch pattern, and i am grateful she was like 'i underestimated the time and yarn requirement difference between my normal lap blanket and your viking blanket dimensions, you'll get it...eventually' rather than 'you get a small blanket or no blanket pick one' but i do feel a little bad that every other blanket she made for people in college were the standard small lap ones only.

Zelda is unrepentant and sees no problem with channelling Jayne in insisting on cuddling with wool homemade fabrics.

[mizmahlia]

Birds of a feather watch horror movies together

Summary: It’s Halloween in Gotham and the Misfit Robins have to stick together.

AO3

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One moment, she totally had the upper hand in the fight between Spoiler and a handful of gang members who weren’t much older that she was. The next, she was on the ground on her hands and knees, choking and gasping for breath as the tell-tale green cloud spread through the empty lot in the Narrows.

The muscles around her eyes and in her cheeks started to twitch, and she desperately reached into her belt for the auto-injector pen full of anti-toxin. The pouch with the pen was in the back by her right hip, but her movements were hampered by shaking hands and an injured shoulder, preventing her from reaching behind her.

When the laughter began to painfully contract her abdominal muscles, the tears came, too, and she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to smother it. She would not go down this way. There was no way in hell her story would end with her dying of Joker toxin on Halloween, alone in the shadows of a desolate high-rise apartment building. She hadn’t even had the chance to say anything quippy or clever before her demise.

Not that there was anyone around to hear it, of course. But whatever.

With one last surge of adrenaline, she wrenched her injured arm behind her and into the pouch, fingers clasping around the pen. A laugh, mixed with her painful cry, burst from her chest and echoed into the night with a sickening wheeze. Before the laughter made it too hard for her to think straight, she twisted the cap off the end and jammed it into her upper thigh. Thankfully, the needle was long enough to penetrate the tough fabric of her uniform and her thumb pushed the button down.

She collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball. The anti-toxin burned like acid as it spread through her veins. But within about forty-five seconds, the laughter died down into chuckles, then into giggles before wilting into sobs deep within her chest as it was neutralized. Another few minutes passed before the muscles in her face relaxed, and she ran her fingers over her aching cheeks.

Breathing was still a struggle, though she knew that would be the last to get back to normal because it was the first thing affected by the gas. But she was already light-headed from the laughter and wheezing, and drawing in a steady enough breath was next to impossible. In a last-ditch effort to speed up the process, she ripped her hood and mask away from her face, rolling onto her back. Her eyes closed as the cool night air touched her face and she waited for her airway to open fully again.

After waiting for what felt like much too long, she rolled over and climbed to her knees. She rubbed a hand over her chest and tried not to panic; a panic attack right now would be seriously bad news. Her lungs were irritated enough from the gas and the cold air hadn’t helped at all, only making it more difficult to breathe. So despite every fiber of her being hating her for what she was about to do, she reached up and tapped the ear piece that was still somehow in her ear.

“Spoiler?”

Stephanie closed her eyes in relief upon hearing Oracle’s filtered voice.

“I-“

Her upper body curled in on itself as she coughed almost violently enough to be sick.

“I’m tracking your location, Spoiler. I’m sending the closest person your way. ETA three minutes.”

She coughed again and her vision darkened at the edges, sending her to down to her forearms on the asphalt. There wasn’t enough time between coughing fits for her to breathe and she knew three minutes would be too late.

A second filtered voice entered the conversation, immediately silencing the flurry of panicked voices.

“Oracle, belay that request. I’m thirty seconds out.”

As everything went dark and she collapsed into a heap, the voice spoke again but without the distortion of the voice filter.

“Hang on, Blondie. I’m almost there.”

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The bed she woke up in was insanely comfortable and that’s how she knew it wasn’t hers.

Hers was alright, of course- but it was a little too soft, a bit too lumpy.

But the bed she was in was the perfect combination of soft and supportive, with the added bonus of having super soft sheets.

She opened her eyes and the room was dark, but there was enough light from the streetlamp outside the window for her to get a good look around. The room was large, but cozy. A few nice pieces of furniture were spread throughout- a dresser near the door, two matching nightstands and a large chest at the end of the bed.

There was a small lamp on each of the nightstands and she leaned to the one closest to her. She shut her eyes to prepare herself for a too-bright bulb, but was surprised when the soft glow barely went past the edge of the nightstand. There was a small machine on the table, and a clear tube going from the machine down to the floor before it traveled back up the bed to her face. She touched her fingers to her cheek and felt the cannula under her nose.

A portable oxygen concentrator.

The encounter with Joker toxin.

Jason came and got her.

Wait.

This was Jason’s place?

She crawled to the other side of the bed and turned on the other lamp. With the added light, she took another look around the room and could see bits of Jason all around her. The headboard behind her was chock full of books, both hard-bound and paperback. She ran her fingers along the spines and read the titles. He had a great mix of the classics, science-fiction, and espionage thrillers, with some true-crime thrown in for good measure. There was another bookcase under the window and from what she could tell, it was full of textbooks. Organic chemistry, forensic psychology, microbiology, and criminal psychology, among others.

The décor was simple, but tasteful. The sheets were grey while the duvet was a deep shade of navy, and the extra blanket at the foot of the bed was a shade of red not unlike the color of his helmet. That thought made her laugh, which made her chest hurt and she coughed. It felt nothing like earlier, thank god, but it was loud enough it got someone’s attention.

Jason knocked quietly on the door, more to announce his presence than to ask for permission to enter, and he opened it, the concern on his face easy to see even in the semi-darkness.

“You okay?”

Stephanie nodded and cleared her throat, wincing as she did.

“I think so. I didn’t actually cough up a lung, so that’s a plus. Right?”

He nodded and approached the bed, stopping by the end and crossing his arms, still watching her.

“Any trouble breathing or swallowing?”

She shook her head and brought her knees up.

“Any hallucinations, fits of laughter or nausea?”

A chill rushed down her spine and she clutched a pillow to her chest, remembering the sound of her laughter and how awful it was. Her arms were covered with goosebumps and she shook her head again.

“No.”

He sat down on the end of the bed, still watching her closely. Gone was the Red Hood outfit- he was wearing charcoal-gray sweats and a dark green Henley, and his wet hair was beginning to curl as it dried. She must have slept longer than she thought, if he’d already come back from patrol and showered. But before he could ask her anything else about what happened earlier, she beat him to it.

“So this is your place, huh?”

Jason nodded and glanced around.

“It’s nice.”

She couldn’t help but notice how much he relaxed at her comment.

“Thanks.”

“Where are we?”

He looked down at this hands, then out the window, avoiding her face.

“Just north of the Knights stadium, about a mile from where I found you.”

She recognized the neighborhood and waited long enough to catch Jason’s gaze to give him a knowing smile. He’d picked a place that was centrally located between Leslie’s clinic, Amusement Mile, and the Narrows- the areas of the city that didn’t ever seem to have enough of a police presence despite the crime rates. Red Hood was frequently seen patrolling in those neighborhoods, more so than the “nicer” parts of the city.

In other words, right smack in the middle of where he was needed most.

“I didn’t realize they had such nice places in Otisburg,” she said hoarsely, wincing at the soreness in her throat.

He shrugged.

“It’s an up and coming neighborhood. At least that’s what they told me when I bought the place.”

Her eyes widened and she sat forward, chucking the pillow at him.

“No way! The apartment, or the building?”

He sighed and pretended to be insulted, throwing the pillow back at her. She dodged it and it hit the headboard with a quiet plop.

“Bruce is the one who buys entire buildings. I only wanted a place where I could have some peace and quiet.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he held up a hand.

“Promise me you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone. No one knows this place exists, except you and Roy.”

“Cross my heart.”

Seemingly content with her answer, they sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until the pain in her chest was too much to ignore any longer. She removed the cannula.

“You have any Tylenol or something? It hurts just to breathe.”

Jason climbed off the bed, his bare feet hitting the floor with barely a sound, and he held out a hand to her.

“I’ve got something better. Last time I got dosed, Leslie gave me some medication you take in a nebulizer. Helps with the pain and the inflammation.”

She grabbed his hand and let him pull her out of bed, still feeling a little woozy. He put a gentle hand against the middle of her back as they walked down the hallway. Something smelled absolutely heavenly as they got closer to the kitchen and there was a small pot on the stove. 

“Go find a spot on the couch,” Jason said over his shoulder. “I’ll get the medication ready and bring you something to eat.”

“What’d you make?”

“Chicken rice soup.”

Jason’s living room was just as cozy as his bedroom. There was a couch with a chaise lounge on one side and on ottoman in front of the other section, both of which were covered in a soft tan fabric. He’d clearly been sitting on the lounge part because he there was a pillow, blanket and a tablet there, so she left that spot alone and nudged the ottoman closer so she could reach it. The coughing spell began as she sat down.

“Here,” he said, appearing behind her and handing her a small plastic device with a mask on it attached to a battery pack. “Flip that switch and hold it to your face. Breathe through your nose.”

She watched as a mist fogged up the mask before doing as instructed. Her eyes closed as it began to work, and she felt his presence behind her. She tilted her head back and glanced up at him, smiling in relief. He smiled affectionately in return, squeezing her shoulder as he leaned on the back of the couch.

“The anti-toxin stops the effects of the gas, but it still damages the lining of your lungs. Give it a week or two, and you should be fine.”

Steph nodded and slouched until she was comfortably settled in. A blanket appeared to her right and she grabbed it, nearly disappearing under it apart from her head and the hand holding the nebulizer. When the machine turned itself off, Jason returned with two mugs of soup, nodding to the couch next to her. She put the device down and accepted the mug, though she gave him a weird look.

“Too easy to spill if it’s in a bowl.”

He lowered himself onto the couch, being careful not to spill anything, and pulled his own blanket around him. They both ate in silence, watching a maniac in a hockey mask chase after the occupants of a summer camp. She finished her soup and started to sit up when Jason held out his hand. She bit her lip to stifle her protest, already feeling like she was imposing. Being waited on was something she’d never get used to.

“You don’t have to-“

“Steph, it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

She handed him the mug and he disappeared once more before gracefully leaping over the back of the couch and settling into his spot. She felt herself smile tiredly when he turned and grinned at her.

They lapsed into another easy silence. And as much as she enjoyed cheesy horror movies, she just couldn’t focus enough to watch it. Her thoughts were stuck on what happened earlier and how scared she’d been. 

Jason was staring at the TV, but his attention was focused on Stephanie. When it was clear she was lost in her head, he adjusted the volume and turned to look at her.

“Wanna talk about it?”

His tone was casual, despite the seriousness of the question, and she knew he’d actually listen if she wanted to talk. But after everything that happened, she wanted to shove into the deep recesses of her brain for the night and try to forget about it. She wasn’t looking forward to the nightmares she’d likely have later.

“Not really, no.”

He nodded and looked back at the screen, not saying a word.

A few minutes later the movie went to commercial and Stephanie turned to him, still hiding under the blanket.

“Sorry I ruined your night,” she said softly. “But I’m glad you were there to save me.”

He propped himself up on an elbow and stared at her, shaking his head and smiling ruefully.

“First of all, you didn’t need saving. You fought it long enough to give yourself the injection, which is something several of us have failed to do. You did everything right. And two,” he said, waiting until she looked at him to continue. When she did, his tone softened, as did his eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything. I stayed here after I knew you were okay because I wanted to. Despite the fact we all dress up on a nightly basis, I don’t actually care for Halloween all that much.”

She looked past him out the window for a moment, processing what he’d just told her. The longer she remained quiet, though, the more concerned he got.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

His question pulled her out of her head, and she tore her gaze away from the window. She’d been expecting a lecture about the myriad of things that went wrong earlier, not a pep talk. Granted, she would have told whoever lectured her to piss off, but still. She’d prepared for a fight and now that she wasn’t going to get one, she had no idea what to say.

Jason hauled himself upright and shook his head. 

“You were expecting me to give you a hard time about tonight, weren’t you?”

She nodded, her face turning red.

“Thought so.” He reached over and rested a warm hand on her shoulder. “The ‘this is how you fucked up’ speech isn’t something you’ll ever get from me, alright? We carry around enough guilt as it is, we don’t need anyone else adding to that.” He squeezed her shoulder and she looked at up. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

He nodded once and reached for the remote.

“Good. We misfit Robins have to stick together. Now, let’s find something better than this crap. Netflix has to have something scarier than Jason Voorhees.”

He flicked through his account and they argued for a little while until they settled on a movie about a zombie outbreak on a train. Something Jason said earlier was still on her mind and she had to know.

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“What could you possibly have against Halloween?”