#this sounds like the most dick and roy conversation ever

[hood-ex]

Green Arrow (Vol. 7) #14

[gilverrwrites]

would love to hear more of ur thoughts of jason... ANY jason thoughts, virgin, getting pegged, dom, on top on bottom, angry, emotional, loving, clingy...

any jason thoughts are appreciate tenfold pls i love the way you write its so sensual and enjoyable (//ω//)

Virgin!Jason/Sex Worker!Reader, 1.9K Words Why thank you anon, you're too kind. It’s funny you sent this in because I have been thinking about Jason a lot recently. Bit of a an odd one actually, I’ve been thinking about how easily he could get hooked on OFs or something similar. Stay with me here...

‘Jason loves cars, and girls, and getting into fights…’

The problem is, ever since he came back, he doesn’t know how to talk to or act around women.

Think about it. He was a teenage boy when he died, still going through puberty, never truly finding closure on all those changes. Now he’s a man.

A man with emotions, and desires, and urges that he doesn’t understand and has no idea how to satiate. The not knowing makes him nervous, angry even.

The first and only time Roy tried the “Have you met Jay?” line it was painful. Like giving water to a hydrophobe. Dying of thirst, wanting it so bad, but his hands are shaking, he can barely even make eye contact, let alone hold a conversation. Or touch her. Man, he wanted to touch her, she had such a pretty smile and glowing skin and the most brilliant laugh. He wound up muttering a ‘sorry, bye.’ To the floor and walking out. When Roy finally caught up, he got one hell of an earful. Yelling was all Jay could do not to start throwing punches he'd regret later. Roy had only had the best of intentions after all.

It was Dick who’d mentioned that the posters of half-naked women splayed across car bonnets or dowsed in lite beer might be a bit distasteful. He’d wanted to argue, if they’re bad, why do they sell them? But he was smarter than that really, and Dick was right, if he ever did bring a girl home, he wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Though the mattress without a bed frame and the lack of amenities might do that anyway. Regardless, he takes them down and throws them out along with a stack of vintage Playboys from his youth. He’ll rely on the words of D. H. Lawrence, Cleland and the likes for that sort of thing.

And just reading works, for a while. But there are itches books just can’t scratch, and like hell is he mortified himself trying to talk to women in public again. He’d almost gotten up the courage once since the debacle with Roy.

At the library, looking for classics and checking out their damaged clearance sale. He’d noticed her the moment he’d entered, such a sweet, sharp woman, teaching seniors how to use computers. He’d lingered for a while, until the class was over, determined to make small talk with her while getting his books checked out, but then he remembered what he was checking out. Immediately he was flooded with doubt. She'd think he was a perv. He put his books on the put-back trolly and left without a word.

That same night, feeling sorry for himself is when he falls down the rabbit hole of social media. Scrolling endlessly through post after post of girls on Instagram. His own page consisted of only a faceless gym selfie and the engine of a bike he’d been restoring, but he followed a lot of accounts. Book reviewers, muscle car enthusiasts, musicians. It wasn’t purely coincidental that most of those content creators were women.

His heart jumps out of his chest when he gets a notification, that doesn’t happen often, and usually it’s from Dick sending him funny dog videos, or Steph tagging him memes but this one is a ‘follow back’.

He’d been following you for a while, liking all your posts and occasionally commenting. Nothing flirty, he didn’t wanna seem like one of those creeps saying gross, inappropriate shit, but that often resulted in him sounding lame for praising the high amount of protein in your home-cooked meal, or something else mundane. Today he’s pointed out how nice the clouds in the back of your group selfie looked but apparently that was enough to get your attention.

You like his two photos and drop him a message. “Hadn’t noticed but you’re right. Those clouds were very pretty.”

‘Not as pretty as you.’ He types out then quickly deletes it. You were very pretty, exactly the kind of girl he would choke up around. You didn't have a lot of followers, and your posts weren't really curated to a theme or gimmick. You just documented your life. For some reason though Jason had been drawn to you ever since your smiling face had popped up in his recommended following.

Instead replies with a very creative “Yeah”

“Sorry, hope I’m not bothering you. You just seem cool.”

“You’re not bothering me.” He answers instantly, not wanting to put you off but unsure what to say.

“Good! If you’re ever feeling chatty, hmu 😊”

Easier said than done, but he massively appreciates the offer. He just doesn’t know how to take you up on it. Looking for inspiration he looks at your account again, noticing a link in your bio that he’s sure hadn’t been there when he’d first followed you. He does a spit take when it leads him to an OF page. No, that definitely was not there before.

Now he’s even more unsure what to do. Would it be weird for him to subscribe after you’d just spoken to him? Or was that what you wanted? Surely you put it there because you want subscribers, right? Should he ask you or would that make it more awkward? Why is taking down drug lords and killer clowns less scary and confusing than this?

He stews on the conundrum for a while, but eventually, he takes the plunge, signing up with the same username as his Instagram, irlgothamzombie. He could spend all night looking at your posts, and he does. Judging by your post history, and low interactions, you’ve not been doing this long, but he circles through the same handful of posts over and over, keeping his own hands full throughout. wink wink.    

He can’t get enough of looking at your body, squeezed into little costumes, draped in colourful lingerie, naked and stark against your bedspread. There’s one video in particular he can’t get enough of though, it’s you in a lacy green slip, giggling as you play with the hem, teasing the camera with a cheeky glint in your eye but never really showing anything. He plays it over and over again, fisting his cock as he images it’s his hands sneaking up your thighs, making you laugh over and over until he cums into his hand.

Even though the caption is specifically asking him your followers what type of content they’d like to see you make while in that outfit, he only comments “nice wallpaper” and logs out, cheeks burning with shame as he cleans up.

It’s a few days before he works up the nerve to log back in. He’s still high on adrenaline after a face-off with Black Mask. Feeling bold and looking for release, it’s the first thing he does when he gets home but seeing two notifications from you is like having a bucket of ice water thrown at him.

You’d replied to his comment, “😂Hadn’t noticed but you’re right.”

When he hadn’t said anything else you’d sent him another DM. “Losing interest, or are you just the shy type?”

“The ‘you’re so hot I don’t know how to talk to you type.’” He’d read through the other comments you’d gotten, that felt tame. A little out of his comfort zone, but safe enough to press send.

“That’s actually so sweet.” You get back to him quickly, sending multiple messages at once. Hopefully that means you’re glad to hear from him. “You can talk to me however you like.”

“You never said what you wanted to see me do?”

“If you’re comfy answering.”

Shitshitshit. His throat is painfully dry as he thinks up a response. “idk but I like it on.”

“green is my favorite color.”

“looks good on you”

“Do you want to see me fuck myself while wearing it?” The question is accompanied by a racy picture of you wearing the slip in reference that you hadn’t posted anywhere else.

YES! “yeah”

“Should I use my hands, or something naughtier?”

“whatever you like best” it probably seems like such a cop-out answer but he means it. “want you to enjoy it as much as I will”

“Can’t tell if you’re my nicest subscriber or not, but I got you, sweet stuff 😉”

The next day you upload the results, and he watches it straight away, not that he’d been waiting for it or anything. He’s already half-hard when he hits the play button. Then you say “This one’s specifically for you irlgothamzombie” straight into the camera with a wink and he can’t get his dick out of his pants fast enough.

He tries to take it slow, wanting to enjoy the whole video but that’s easier said than done. He’s leaking pre-cum minutes into watching as you run your hands along your body, dipping your fingers between your legs, over your covered nipples but never revealing anything.

His resolve wavers when you start to rub yourself through the fabric, cooing and moaning as you build friction. He bites his lip so hard to ground himself that it starts to bleed.

Then you bring out the big guns, he doesn’t know what it’s called, but it’s some kind of toy. Long, with a round head that you hold to your clit and fuck, do you enjoy it. You’re practically drooling as you buck your hips and roll your eyes back. Your orgasm is loud and wet, and he almost breaks until he realises there are still a few minutes left.

You keep going, so he does too. Holding out until the very end. Is it possible that sex could feel better than this? Wild.

He messages you first this time.

He buys the green slip and the matching thong, still dirty after you’d cum all over them. Under the bawdy smell of sex he can just make scent of your perfume. It's intoxicating. Maybe he should ask you what brand it is so he can get a bottle and spray it all over his apartment.

He spends all day in bed, clutching the delicate lace to his chest and sucking on the underwear until his dick aches and he physically can’t cum again without hurting himself.

He isn’t sure how he feels about your return PO Box being in Blüdhaven. It's exciting and terrifying to think that you're real, and out in the world, within driving distance even. He could just bump into you one day. He could probably track you down if he wanted to but he kind of likes the comfort of you being behind a screen.

Eventually, he buys every service you offer, custom videos, a dick rating, your private Snapchat, and he practically purges your wish list. Not just the sexy stuff, but the gift cards, the clothes, the collectables, anything you want.

With every purchase you send him your thanks, ask him about his day, his interests both sexual and in general. You offer him services for free or heavily discounted, expressions of your gratitude for all he’s done but he always declines.

A part of him believes that you’d still talk to him if he stopped financing you, you're practically two steps away from asking for it outright, and he knows that. But the money is like a safety net. Like his helmet; a barrier between him and heartbreaking humiliation. As long as he keeps doling out the cash, he’ll never have to know if you’d reject him without it.

[mrprettywhenhecries]

don’t waste your time (on me) [g.t]

09. | LOL

Gator Tillman ✘ Win Lewis (OC)

⇾ w.c. 5.1k words ⇾ tags/warning(s). canon x oc pairing, f!oc, misogynistic themes, Roy’s a dick (but what else is new?), Gator is conflicted, kidnap, mentions of violence/murder/assault ⇾ a/n. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

Gator gets benched and doubts start to creep in. Worried when she's unable to get ahold of him, Win shows up at the ranch looking for him and nearly stumbles across things she shouldn't. Gator and Roy meet with Munch to deal with their bad luck problem. Meanwhile, Win has an enlightening conversation at work that leaves her more uncertain than ever.

[ masterlist • win bio ]

“Gator, your stubble’s like sandpaper,” Win groaned, squirming beneath him as he shifted, his unshaven cheek rubbing against her stomach where he’d been lounging, her tank top having ridden up while she was dozing.

“Thought you liked it like this, said I look rugged,” he countered smugly, lifting his face to look at her, arching a brow as a smirk tugged at his lips.

“I did say that,” Win mused, half awake, pushing his loose hair out of his eyes.  “But it’s scratching me raw when you keep moving,” she pouted, though she ran her knuckles against his cheek almost tenderly.

“I can go shave it right now, if that’s what you want,” he offered, making to push off of her, though it sounded more like a threat.

They’d been laying tangled on the couch, stoned and half dressed for most of the day, napping and watching tv in between fooling around, not feeling like doing much else after their reconciliation.

“Noooo,” she whined, clinging to him to keep him from getting up and he snorted, crawling closer.

“That’s what I thought,” he drawled, grinning against her lips as he stole a languid kiss.

“You’re such a dick, Gator,” she huffed, tilting her chin up to kiss him back, her tongue licking into his mouth to deepen the kiss, starting the whole process all over again, and he groaned, meeting her tongue with his own, his eyelids fluttering shut before his phone went off, vibrating atop the coffee table.

Groaning, this time in annoyance, he reluctantly pulled back to check who was calling, picking the phone up to bring to his ear at the sight of his dad’s name, despite the way Win pouted when he sat up.

“Hey.  What’s up?”

Win couldn’t make out the words, but she could tell it was Roy by the way Gator’s demeanor changed as soon as he answered.

“Yeah, okay.  What’s the job?” he asked, reaching for his shirt draped over the back of the couch and standing, his dark eyes flitting to Win as he wet his lips.  She’d already drifted back to sleep, her eyelids fluttering lightly in time with her even breaths.

“Right.  Yeah, okay, I’ll be there soon.”

As soon as the call ended, he pulled his shirt over his head and went in search of his cargo pants, discarded at the foot of Win’s bed in a pile.  Pulling them up and fastening his belt, he strapped on his thigh holster before reaching under the pillow for his pistol, checking the safety.  When he returned to the living room, Win peered up at him through heavy lidded eyes.  

“You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, sorry babe,” he grunted, running a hand through his hair to push it back before tugging his cap on.  “Got a job to finish.” 

Win’s pout grew and she sighed dramatically, reaching for him.  “Do you have to?”

Gator snorted, rounding the couch as he shrugged his jacket on, awkwardly fixing the collar before leaning over her.  “C’mon, don’t do that to me,” he breathed.  

“Do what?” 

“Make it harder to leave,” he groaned, leaning in to place a quick kiss to her parted lips.  Before he could pull back, however, Win wound her arms around his neck, holding tightly to him and he let out a huff.  “Babe, c’mon,” he protested.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded softly, her words syrupy and heavy with sleep, threatening to drag him down with her.

Gator hesitated, waging an internal battle of wills.  “I wish I could,” he whispered with a grimace, carefully untangling her and straightening. “Fine,” she groaned, wrinkling her nose at him.  “When will you be back?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, probably.  I’ll call you,” he said, slipping his phone in his pocket and grabbing his keys from the coffee table.  

“Please be careful,” Win called as he stepped into his boots by the door and crouched to tie them, slower than usual with his hand restricted by the cast.

“I will,” he assured, straightening to make sure he had everything.  “I’ll see you before you know it,” he said, tipping his hat to her with a lopsided grin; the opportunity at a second chance to right his slip up the other night had him feeling energized despite the pull of Win’s endearing pleas to stay.

“You better,” she murmured, a petulant note to her exhausted voice and Gator snorted, shaking his head fondly.

“Get some sleep,” he replied, pushing open the door and making sure it was locked before stepping out.

Gator fidgeted in the passenger seat of Bowman’s truck, his leg bouncing restlessly as he looked out the window, eager to get moving.  They’d been parked outside the Walter Mondale Care Center for the better part of the last half hour, cooling their heels while they waited for more instructions.

Gator was just about to reach for his vape to kill some time and soothe his nerves when Roy’s call came through and he quickly answered.  “Talk to me,” he drawled, grinning as his dad’s voice filled his ear.

“We’re goin’ with plan B.  Take the husband.”

“Yes.  Yes!” Gator exclaimed, thumping his fist against the door.

“Now, pass me to Bowman,” Roy grunted and Gator blinked in confusion.

“Wait, I don’t–” he spluttered, glancing at the man sitting next to him.

Impatient, Roy repeated himself.  “I said.  Pass. Me. To. Bowman.”

Gator’s brows furrowed and he shifted in his seat toward the door, lowering his voice.  “You didn’t have to send him to babysit me,” he grumbled.

“Just give him the damn phone,” Roy snapped, his tone brooking no nonsense and helplessly, Gator obeyed, gritting his teeth as he reluctantly held the phone out for the head ranch hand to take.

As soon as Bowman answered, Gator let out a petulant huff, grabbing his sunglasses from the back of his cap and tossing them on the dash, rubbing at his nose before flopping back in his seat, trying not to let the other guys see how upset he was.  

Roy didn’t speak long, and Bowman grunted, handing Gator back his phone.

“What’d he say?” Gator demanded, staring at the other man impatiently.

Bowman was already pushing his door open as he answered, barely sparing Gator a backward glance.  “You stay here.”

The three in the back took that as their cue to exit the cab as well, leaving Gator gaping after them, his mouth working silently in shock before finally managing to splutter, “But!  But I’m the law!”

His only answer was the sound of the truck doors shutting, Bowman and the others already heading for the hospital entrance, ignoring Gator’s indignant protests.

“I’m comin’!  I’m–” Craning in his seat to watch them, he trailed off as realized he wasn’t going to disobey his father’s order.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping back in his seat.  It wasn’t long, however, for his incredulity to shift to simmering anger.

Rolling down the window with more force than necessary, Gator tugged his cap down and brought his vape to his lips, taking a long drawl as he sulked.

“No, you wait in the fuckin’ truck,” he muttered under his breath, exhaling a lungful of watermelon vapor.  “I dunno why the fuck he even told me to come if he was gunna make me wait on the fuckin’ sidelines,” he grumbled, tapping his vape pen idly against the door, his eyes squinting out from under the brim of his hat, glaring at nothing in particular.

He could have been sleeping in, still curled up with Win instead of sitting behind in the truck like some screw up that couldn’t be trusted.

Screwing his eyes shut, he puffed angrily on his vape, fixating on every misstep he’d made the other night and stewing over the unfairness of it all.  He’d made too many mistakes and now he was on the bench.

He let out a scoff, drumming his fingers impatiently against the door as a frown twisted his lips, waiting for the nicotine from his vape to take the edge off his swirling thoughts.  The other day, he’d been so certain, trusting without a doubt that what Roy had set into motion was the right course of action, but something he’d seen while in Nadine’s house that night nagged at him.

He couldn’t get that stupid family photo out of his head.  He’d stared at it for nearly a minute, struck by the smile on Nadine’s face.   She looked happy.

She’d never smiled like that with Roy.

Gator wasn’t stupid, he knew what Roy had done to her, the way he’d slipped into her room at night, the way he’d hit her.  No matter how much he tried to ignore it, it still made him queasy, but she was his wife, and the bible said the wife was the husband’s property.  Right?

Gator frowned.  

He didn’t believe that.  Couldn’t.  Not truly.  At least, not any more.  

Not since Win.

Looking down at his phone, he groaned softly as guilt and doubt began to creep in, souring his stomach.  His lock screen photo was one Win had taken of the two of them together, her bright smile enough to make his chest ache, but it was the wide smile on his own face that made him pause – a smile so much like the one Nadine—Dot had worn in her family photo.

Didn’t they deserve to be happy?  She and him?

How could he do to Dot what he’d kill someone over if they did to Win?  Was he even doing the right thing?  Where did his loyalty truly lie?

Gator took a shuddering breath, quickly bringing his vape to his lips with trembling fingers.  He didn’t want to think about whether what he was doing was right or not.  If he thought too much, he might come to conclusions that he couldn’t afford to come to, only making things more complicated than he wanted them to be.

A car door slamming shut nearby jolted Gator from his thoughts and he turned to look toward the sound.  Two people in matching black coats had just climbed out of the nondescript black car that had parked right out front of the hospital entrance and Gator frowned, leaning in to peer at the vaguely familiar pair, his vape half to his lips.

“Shit–” he breathed as recognition hit.  “Shit, shit,” he muttered, fumbling for his phone as the FBI agents walked toward the door.

Unlocking his phone, he was in the midst of pulling up his contacts when he realized Bowman didn’t have his phone on him–he’d had to use Gator’s to talk to Roy.  Switching gears, he swore under his breath as he jumped out of the truck and tore his sheriff’s cap from his head before sprinting to the door.  If he was fast enough, he might be able to warn them before the FBI wandered right into the middle of their operation.

Slowing as he reached the sliding doors, Gator adjusted his leather jacket and slipped inside, just in time to overhear the woman at the front desk direct the FBI agents to Wayne Lyon’s room.  As they stepped into the elevator, Gator took the stairs, hoping to head them off.

When he reached the third floor, he glanced at the placard on the wall, quickly gaining his bearings and heading off to the left.  Rounding the corner, time seemed to slow as he locked eyes with Nadine, huddled next to the wall, as if trying to hide.  Her large eyes went wider, frozen like a deer in headlights as he passed, and he held her gaze, glancing back over his shoulder at her as he strode toward her husband’s hospital room.

Almost as soon as he passed, the two agents emerged from the elevator and gave a start as they nearly ran into Dot, surprised to see her as well, and he was glad for the distraction–as long as she held her tongue.

Bowman and the others bustled out of the room as Gator approached, wheeling a scrawny man in a hospital gown out with them.

“You were supposed to wait in the truck,” Bowman grunted, frowning at Gator, but Gator rolled his eyes and stepped closer.

“FBI’s here,” he hissed, nodding toward the end of the hall.  “And look who they’re talkin’ to,” he pointed out, catching Dot watching them.

Bowman’s gaze followed Gator’s, his mouth in a hard line.  “Doesn’t matter, we got her husband,” he said.  “Had to tenderize him a little.  What an asshole,” he grumbled under his breath.

Gator glanced toward the unconscious man in the wheelchair, his face puffy from whatever the others had done to tenderize him.  

Something was wrong.  Squinting at the man’s face, Gator’s jaw flexed.  That wasn’t Wayne.  He’d gotten a good look at Wayne the other night, thanks to the framed photo, and this was clearly not the same man.  Besides, if it was, wouldn’t Nadine be making a scene?  Doing anything to keep them from taking him?

Swallowing, he deliberated pointing this out to Bowman, but something held his tongue.  Maybe it was Dot’s pleading stare, maybe it was the guilt, or maybe it was the thought of what Win would think of him if she knew, but he nodded, gesturing for the others to head toward the elevator behind them.  If, or rather when, Roy found out they nabbed the wrong guy, he could play dumb, blame the others, and his dad would probably buy it.

The thought stung, but Gator shoved it down and stepped into the elevator, bringing his finger to his lips in a shushing motion as Dot’s eyes found his and the door slid shut.

Win had been half asleep when Gator had left the night before, but she was certain he said he’d be back by the next afternoon, and while he’d texted her a few times earlier that morning, she’d heard nothing new from him since around eleven and it was already pushing five o’clock.

She never used to be the type to worry, but then again she’d never felt about anyone the way she felt for Gator – despite her better senses – and after his run of bad luck this past week, her nerves were more on edge than ever.

Unable to concentrate on anything, she kept checking her phone, her insides squirming more with each minute he didn’t respond.  This is ridiculous, she told herself, throwing her phone down on the couch with more force than necessary.  He’s fine, she insisted, but the blue cast on his arm and the bruises mottling his face and ribs told a different story.

Unable to take it any longer, she grabbed her phone and brought it to her ear, dialing Gator’s number.

Straight to voicemail.

She chewed her lip, her leg bouncing.  Either he’d turned his phone off, or it was dead, and both of which could mean absolutely nothing, or something terrible. 

Trying to quell the panic rising up her throat, she called the number for the sheriff’s office, hoping maybe he’d made a pit stop there.  It took all of thirty seconds for the dispatcher to tell her Gator hadn’t been there all day.

That just left the ranch, and though she had the number, she didn’t exactly trust Roy or Karen to tell her the truth.

This is stupid.  This is really fuckin’ stupid, she muttered under her breath as she climbed into the chevelle, barely buckling her seat belt before throwing it in reverse and peeling out of the drive.  

Once she hit the county roads, she sped up, pressing the pedal nearly all the way down, really opening up the engine, past caring about the speed limit, her heart in her throat as every worst case scenario ran through her mind.  

As the empty fields blurred past her windows she couldn’t even find comfort in the thought that Roy would have called her if anything had happened to Gator.  She knew better than that.  

The Tillman Ranch sign loomed in the distance and Win let out a breath of relief to find the gate wide open as she turned off the road, her knuckles white on the wheel as she slowed.  The pavement gave way to rutted gravel and the dilapidated old barn on the horizon grew larger as she neared.

Gator’s police cruiser was parked out front between two trucks, one of them Roy’s, but otherwise the place looked deserted.  Though she’d only been there the one time, there’d been activity–ranch hands milling around, doing chores or working with the animals.  It was eerie how quiet the grounds were.

The thin layer of snow dusting the ground crunched beneath her boots as she stepped out of her car, and Win pulled her coat tighter around herself as she headed for the front door, the wooden porch boards creaking as she crossed them.  

When she knocked at the door, she swore she heard something from inside, but no one answered.  Frowning, she tried again.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Win muttered under her breath and looked around.

He had to be somewhere.

Tramping off the porch, she followed the path around the stables and past the large leaning barn, her arms crossed over her chest.  Rounding the barn, the sound of muffled voices pricked her ears, coming from the little red shed that came suddenly into view.

The faded shed was tucked away between the other outbuildings and out of sight until you were nearly upon it.

Win’s breath steamed in the air as she hesitated, straining to listen to the arguing voices when a gunshot ripped through the silence, stopping her in her tracks with a jolt.

“Gator?” she called uncertainly, heart in her throat and voice hoarse, fighting the urge to turn and run back the way she came before she was discovered by the wrong person.

The door to the shed opened and Gator stepped out, surprise flashing across his face at the sight of her and he hurried over, intercepting Win before she could get any closer.

“What’re you doing here?” he hissed, grabbing her arm to haul her further away as he shot a nervous look back over his shoulder.

“I hadn’t heard from you and your phone was off.  I got worried–” Win countered, a defensive note to her voice.

“Shit, sorry.  I got caught up in something,” he muttered, swallowing as he noticed the suspicion in her stormy eyes.

“I thought I heard a gunshot just now,” she whispered and Gator forced a laugh.

“I mean, there’s always someone shootin’ at something out here,” he dismissed.

The shed door opened again and Roy emerged, his expression hardening when he noticed Win, and Gator grimaced, turning back to her.

“It’s really not a good time,” he said.  “I’ll be done soon though,” he insisted.  “Go home, Win.  I’ll be over later.”

Win nodded.  Though she doubted his flimsy explanation, she could sense the tension in the chill air, radiating from his father, and she knew better than to argue right then.

“Okay.  Call me,” she stressed, holding his gaze before her eyes flicked to Roy.  Before stepping back, she took Gator’s face between her hands to press a kiss to his chapped lips.  “Be careful,” she whispered, giving Roy one last defiant look before finally stepping back and heading back to her car.

As soon as Win was out of earshot, Roy strode toward Gator, grabbing him by the collar.  “What’s she doin’ here?” he demanded, a dangerous note to his low voice and Gator flinched, his hazel eyes unconsciously darting down.

“She was lookin’ for me.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed and his grasp on Gator’s jacket tightened.  “You need to keep your woman on a shorter leash,” he growled.  “Get her in line before I have to.  If you ain’t careful, she’s gunna stick her nose where it don’t belong and get herself into trouble.”

“I can handle it,” Gator insisted, prickling at the lecture.

Roy let out a huff.  “I don’t think you can, son.  I told you she was too headstrong.”

“Just leave her outta this!” Gator snapped, trying to pull out of his father’s grip.

“Finally grew some balls, huh?” Roy snorted, releasing Gator, who stumbled backwards.  “Too bad you’re wastin’ ‘em on the wrong thing.”

Gator let out a soft huff, but didn’t argue further.  “So, what do we do now?” he asked hesitantly.

Roy let out a sigh.  “Son, you got a bad luck problem.  Somewhere out there, there’s an upside down horseshoe with your name on it.”

“I’m just off my game, is all,” Gator exclaimed.  “You know I’m a winner!” he insisted.  “All state quarterback, crack shot, knockin’ all the pins down with my eyes closed.  That’s your boy, not this… puke pile,” he muttered.

Roy nodded as he listened.  “Alright, I think I know where you got this thorn in your paw,” he mused, striding off toward the house.  “Get in the car,” he called and Gator hurried after.

“Where we goin?”

“To pay the boogey man.”  

Gator scowled as he stood next to Roy, his hands shoved in his coat pockets, waiting for Munch to meet them.  Across the muddy arena from them some ranch hands were tagging and corralling cattle.

“Dad, c’mon you’re not payin this guy,” he grumbled, but Roy didn’t answer, merely leaning against the railing, watching the men work.

“I mean, fine.  We’re upside down, and… maybe it’s voodoo, or whatever, but, solve it with a bullet, otherwise, what–?  We trust this guy?” Gator scoffed.  “Like, ‘Here’s your money, please lift the curse?’  I don’t think so!”

Roy finally straightened and turned to look at his son.  “We tried killin’ him, now we’re bailing water out of a sinkin’ boat.  Election’s a week away and we’re still balls deep on righting old wrongs with Nadine, our dicks in the breeze.  We need to take luck out of the equation.  Period.  End of story.”

Gator let out a sigh, unable to think of an argument and he followed his dad’s gaze as it slipped past him, looking over his shoulder to find Munch standing under the bleachers, his looming silhouette just visible in the shadows.

Roy nodded toward him.  “Go on, search him, then wait in the car.”

Gator’s jaw flexed and he let out a grunt as he begrudgingly obeyed, climbing down to meet the assassin.

 “Lemme see your hands,” he demanded gruffly, patting Munch down as the man silently raised his arms.  Pushing open his fur lined coat, Gator checked inside for any weapons before leaning in.  “This ain’t  a win.  We’re callin’ a draw.  So don’t get cocky,” he drawled, giving Munch a push forward.  Letting out a soft scoff when the other man stumbled forward a step, Gator watched him for a moment before turning to stride in the other direction.  

Glancing around to make sure no one was around, he pulled a small black box from his pocket.  Finding Munch’s car, he dropped to the ground and affixed the tracker to the bottom of the car.

“Trust this guy?  I don’t think so,” he muttered under his breath as he pushed up and dusted his cargo pants off.  He knew it wouldn’t be long before Munch returned with the duffle bag of money and he leaned against the side of the car to wait, wanting to have the last word.

Out of vape juice and needing a hit of nicotine, he reached for the half full tin of dip in his pants pocket and pinched a bit between his fingers to stuff between his gums and lip before pulling his phone out to shoot off a text to Win, not wanting to worry her further after the near mishap at the ranch earlier.

gotta finish something b over after ur shift

missin u

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he leaned back against the car and spat, stewing as he waited.  He refused to let this asshole win.  His dad may think the only way to get rid of him was to pay him off, but Gator had other plans.  

It wasn’t long before Munch returned, bag in tow, just as stoic as when he arrived.

“Happy now, shitbird, you got your money?  People are dead, good men. And you’re still wandering the earth, breathing the air they should be breathing,” Gator sneered, turning to face the other man, though he still leaned against the driver door.

Munch opened the back door to stow his bag almost calmly before stepping in closer, right into Gator’s space, forcing him to shrink back, unease flashing in his eyes.

“A boy complains because he thinks the world is unfair.  He cries to his mother when the toy breaks or the knee is skinned,” Munch said in his stilted accent, his expression morphing from indifference to contempt.

Gator huffed a breath, desperate to regain control of the situation.  “Fuck that.  You’re the one who’s gunna be the one cryin’,” he exclaimed, standing up straighter.

Unperturbed, Munch pulled open the car door, forcing Gator to step back and he leaned against the door frame, once more looming into Gator’s space.

“A man knows better.  The things that happen, happen.  Who lives, who dies,” he murmured, staring Gator down from under his heavy brow. “You don’t yell at the boulder for being a rock,” he continued, looking him up and down, his lip curling..  “It is… surprising a welp like you… has a mate at all.  Much less, one like her.”

His words rankled, and clearly annoyed, Gator grabbed the car door as Munch slipped behind the wheel, keeping him from shutting it.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Munch.  “I know you were at her house, you fuckin’ freak.  You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me?” he spat.

“So long as the debt is paid, our business is settled,” Munch replied simply, as if that was all there was to it.

Gator smiled sarcastically, leaning in closer.  “You want the last word?  I’ll see you soon, asshole,” he hissed, his empty smile disappearing as she slammed the door shut, spitting on the window for good measure before walking away, wiping his chin.  Planting his feet, he watched Munch drive off before pulling the tracker remote from his pocket and flipping the switch.

The little green bulb on the remote lit up and the sensor began reading.

“I got you, asshole,” he breathed, a wicked smile stretching his lips.

Win checked her phone behind the bar, smiling at Gator’s message.  Relieved that he checked in, she sent a quick reply before pocketing her phone and grabbing a bar towel to wipe down the bar top as she waited for a customer to need a refill.  The door in the corner opened and two people walked in–a man and woman–tamping their shoes on the mat before unwrapping the scarves from around their necks and heading toward the bar.

As they approached, Win noticed their crisp white dress shirts under their black coats and the gun holsters at their hips, clocking them as detectives, or agents of some sort before they even opened their mouths.

“Excuse me,” the woman said, stopping in front of Win.  “We’re looking a Miss Lewis, is she working tonight?”

Win took a deep breath, stiffening warily.  “Who’s asking?”

The two shared a glance before each pulling a black wallet from their pockets to flip open as they identified themselves.

“I’m Agent Meyer and this is Agent Joaquin, from the Fargo FBI office,” the woman answered, quickly flipping her badge shut and making it disappear.  “Am I to take it that you’re Miss Lewis?”

Win nodded, folding her arms over her chest.  “What’s this about?”

“Well, we’ve uh, caught wind that you may have a… connection to Gator Tillman,” Agent Joaquin answered.  “We’re investigating his father, Roy Tillman,” he explained and Win wrinkled her nose before she could help herself.

Meyer smirked at her reaction.  “Safe to say you don’t seem to like the man.”

“I’d say that’s a safe assumption,” Win muttered.  

Joaquin chuckled.  “Looks like we have that in common.” 

Meyers nodded.  “Strong willed women like you aren’t exactly the type to see eye to eye with a man like that,” she commented.  “Which begs the question, why are you dating his son?”

“Gator’s not like Roy,” Win exclaimed quickly, hating the defensive note to her voice.

“You sure about that?” Meyer drawled, arching a brow at her.

“Of course I am,” Win insisted and the two agents shared a look.

“Well, apparently he’s not as different as you might think.  Are you aware that his daddy’s involved in a lot of illegal dealings, which means, your boyfriend is too,” Joaquin said, Meyer right on his heels.

“He’s an accessory.  If Roy goes down, Gator goes down with him.  That is, unless Roy pins all of it on him.”

“Hasn’t been the first time,” Joaquin added, pulling out a print out and sliding it across the bar top to Win.

Frowning, she looked down at the paper–an article about missing police requisitions, blaming Deputy Tillman for their misplacement–a grainy photo of Gator in his tactical vest catching her eye.  Skimming the article, her stomach knotted further, knowing in her gut the agents were right.  Roy would do anything to slither out of charges, including setting up his own son to take the fall.

“So, what do you want?” she asked.

“We wanna take down Roy.  But to do that, we need your help—we need Gator’s help,” Meyer explained.  

“We need information, indisputable evidence from someone on the inside, so we can put Roy away.  Which is something I think we both want,” Joaquin added, the two watching her expectantly.

“Do you think you could persuade Gator to do that?  To testify against Roy?” Meyer pressed and Win chewed her lip.

“What’s in it for him?”

“Full federal immunity.  He’s obviously just a pawn,” Meyer answered without missing a beat.

“What do you say?”

Win looked down at the article again, her eyes hovering on Gator’s photo.  It was a good deal, but would Gator take it?  

Her stomach opened up like a pit, ice sliding into her bowels, knowing deep down, as it was now–as much as she wished it wasn’t true– he’d never agree to it.  He was still too loyal to Roy, even if she’d managed to foster some doubts in him.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she murmured reluctantly.  “But I want it in writing,” she insisted, still not fully trusting this too good to be true deal.

“What?” Joaquin asked, taken aback.

“I need proof that your word is good.”

Meyer nodded.  “Alright.  Here’s our card.  Call us when you’re ready to deal,” she said, slipping Win a business card.

As the pair turned to leave, Win looked over the card, turning the offer over in her mind, trying to find the best way to bring it up to Gator, her excitement at seeing him later turning to apprehension.  

⇾ taglist. @sailorskunk @heartbreak-sandwich @super-unpredictable98 @irishvampireboy @girlwiththerubyslippers

@cycat4077 @thecreelhouse

[reinvent-and-believe]

Trick or Treat!!

57 Roy x Jamie :3

57. dating apps ☺️

—

11:21 p.m. lucky for you that’s exactly my type

Roy’s bored. It’s not like he just sits around answering messages from pictureless Grindr blokes, but he’s bored and he’s scrolling and he's horny and it’s not like a 25-year-old 5’10" toned vers bisexual sounds unappealing, necessarily, even if that’s all he’s got to go on.

11:23 p.m. What is?

11:23 p.m. your bio

Roy may have been a bit drunk when he set up his account the other night, so who the fuck knows. He flips to his profile and reads, “emotionally unavailable but I eat arse so there’s that.”

Right.

Roy Kent is not old, thank you very much, but in his day, you picked people up in a bar or at a party or after a match because fit, interested people tended to linger. Now there’s an app for that. Brave new fucking world.

He’d downloaded fucking bantr out of morbid curiosity, a few months after he broke things off with Keeley, and deleted it within 20 minutes. The problem with bantr is that the whole point is to make some deep, meaningful connection that’s based on more than just physical attraction. Roy already had that. He fucked it up. That’s the last thing he wants.

Grindr, though. That’s more his speed.

11:26 p.m. That so?

11:27 p.m. it is. everyone else on here just wants their dick sucked, man. where’s the creativity?

11:27 p.m. So it’s the creativity then, not the offer itself

11:28 p.m. listen mate, if you’re offering…

The photo suddenly gracing Roy’s phone has got to be the most perfect bum Roy’s ever seen, round and smooth and muscled and…yeah, Roy would fucking feast on that.

Wait.

Another picture comes through, another that shouldn’t be identifiable, no face, no visible tattoos, just a perfectly sculpted torso, left arm casually flexed with his hand cradled behind his neck. His right arm is strategically out of frame, other than the pretty, angular hand nicely framing a gorgeous cock straining against tight black pants.

Perfectly sculpted torso and casually flexed right arm and pretty, angular hand and gorgeous cock that all belong to Jamie Tartt.

There’s not the slightest sliver of doubt in his mind. Roy sculpted that body himself. It’s fucking Jamie, that perfect bicep from the new lifting routine, the tan from his trip to Brazil, the Orion’s Belt of freckles on his left pec.

Fuck.

11:33 p.m. speechless, yeah? you’re welcome

He should not fucking reply. He should close the app. Delete the conversation. Block Jamie’s profile. Delete his goddamn Grindr account.

11:35 p.m. You always this much of a cocky prick?

11:35 p.m. nah, way worse in person

11:35 p.m. you want it though, don’t ya?

11:36 p.m. can i see you?

Roy takes a breath. Don’t reply, close the app, delete the conversation, block the profile, delete the account. Lots of great options here.

Instead he takes a breath, pulls off his shirt, and snaps his own faceless torso picture. He glances at it just long enough to decide it’s good enough and sends it before he has time to think about it any harder.

He doesn’t know what outcome he’s hoping for here. Maybe Jamie isn’t as fucking deranged as Roy apparently is, maybe Jamie won’t immediately recognize some random hairy chest. Or maybe Jamie will know immediately, too. Maybe he’ll have the good fucking sense to do what Roy should have done and pretend this never happened.

Minute after agonizing minute ticks by, and Roy is a fucking idiot, why the fuck…

11:41 p.m. right

11:41 p.m. so you coming over now or do we have to wait til 4am?

Roy stares at the phone for a minute before typing a response, throwing his shirt back on, and grabbing his car keys.

11:42 p.m. On my way

[ameba-from-space]

Hey. I noticed you have a have batman and batfam rec lists, I was wondering it you had made a list that was just Jason Todd/Red Hood-centric fics??? He is my favorite batfam character and I LOVE reading fics about him.

Okay I'm finally sitting down to do this, there might be some fics here that I already talked about in the other list but I'm saying it here again cause they are really good jason fics as well

The D-Word - Jason gets what he wants

four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero brain cells to be found - Tim has a crush

World's Worst Dadtective - the batkids are children and so is bruce, focus on Grocery Shopping

Yesterday's Voices - Bruce loses his memories, he forgets jason died

And the Scene Slips Away (To the Evenness I Fake) - Jason todd comes back to life (legally)

Someone That Hates To See Me Go - Can you stop almost dying FOR FIVE MINUTES

Older Siblings: A Plague on Our Society - Steling bikes is a love language

Eucatastrophe - Jason will never forgive himself for what he did to his family

Verdant - Jason revives, he then goes home, one of my absolute favorites ever by @cerusee

Being Alone (It's a Last Resort) - Jason is fucking sick (literally)

Where Mourning Ends - Bruce acts like a human being for once

Safe And Sound - Not really about jason but has some pretty good jason moments

Minimum Height Requirement - No capes until you're 18

Homecoming - people actually noticed when a grave is suddenly empty

Reclaiming Innocence - What if jason's childhood was even sadder, pay attention to the tags this one is a heavy one

Ever After - Jason is 5 years old when he meets jim gordon

Icarus and Bubble Gum - Jason has the worst handwriting know to men

Best Served Wet - Pool shennenigans with the fam

The Secret Is Out - Threats as a love language

Emergency Contacts - Batman is hurt, the family freaks

The Most Important Thing - Dick brings his brother home

the politics of dancing - Jason aint taking none of your shit

Jason Knows 26 Ways to Use a Flip Phone as a Weapon - a very serious conversation about the robin costume

through different colored glasses - being stupid together as a love language

children of dust and ashes - The clown dies

Bruce v. Oliver: Dawn of Overprotective!Batdad - Straight up Oliver hate, roy is in a really bad place

Running Headlong into My Arms - No matter the universe bruce wayne always finds his kids

Five Times Jason Todd reminded someone that he died, and the one time someone reminded him - It's my death and I will make jokes about it

Okay, its again getting to long, I kinda tried to put some that are not that widely know cause you gotta bost your favs I'm right, I still have a lot on jason todd so if anyone wants more I will be glad to do more

[fantasy2739]

Jamie Prompt: Nightmares during an overnight trip so one of the teammates or multiple hear and help him. OR they find old bruises/scars from his dad's abuse. Just want to see the effects of the abuse and the team seeing those effects/helping him.

Hahahaha angst my favourite.

Gonna be honest not sure I nailed this.

Enjoy!

They just won a match against Nottingham Forest. It was a brutal match. City Ground was filled with jeers and cheers from both sides. Probably inspired by the horrific loss at Wembley. Richard nearly got taken out by one of the Nottingham players, Dani had received a dubious yellow, Sam was covered in more scrapes and bruises than should be possible, and Jamie had gone full prick without even waiting for a signal. It was a shit match. Roy grumbled the whole way back to the hotel how they were probably going to have to flee in the dead of night. Jamie just feels like shit. They should be happy. They won. Jamie thinks it’s because maybe some of the insults got a bit too personal. Maybe because at half time after one of the players had shoved Jamie and called him a pussy, the whole team had shot him looks of concern. Jamie had ignored the looks, the pounding of his heart and tried to listen to Ted. Maybe because it was just a shit match. The point is Jamie feels like shit.

“Movie night?” Ted asks, lightly, like he wouldn’t mind if they said no. There were nods, murmurs of agreement, because none of them wanted to go out really. They all cram into a big room and settle in for a movie. The choice is given to Ted, who always seems to nail the film choice. He puts on My Neighbour Totoro, probably because it’s all cute and shit. Jamie’s got to admit, it’s pretty hard to stay angry watching some fluffy thing be stupidly cuddly and friendly. It’s just a nice movie. He’s a bit apart from everyone else, half curled onto a pillow he nabbed from his room. He’s dead sleepy. If he closes his eyes just a little, it’ll be fine.

It fucking isn’t.

Jamie’s had nightmares for years. They’re pretty fucking consistent actually. His fears haven’t really changed from childhood. The same man appears. The same insults. Injuries. Pain and memories swirl into one.

Years of experience have ingrained it in his mind and body to not be loud. The vulnerability that comes with sleep keeps his mind in a state of stress. He’s never been a heavy sleeper. Too wary of footsteps in the night. If he wakes the sleeping horror in his house he knows he’s in for worse. Apparently though, he moves, a lot. And whimpers. It’s pathetic really. He’s an adult. He shouldn’t be fucking like this. He’s always in motion anyway, so it occurring in his sleep doesn’t seem like a big deal. The odd twitch is probably ignored. The violent twisting, whimpers, and arms raised in defence are not.

He’s not sure how long he’s out but there’s hands on his shoulders as he almost bolts upright. He nearly takes Isaac out. Jamie’s breathing heavily. He wrenches himself from Isaac’s grip, hands on him too much to bare.

“You alright bruv?” Isaac asks, almost gentle. Jamie just nods, not trusting his voice to come out strong.

“The fuck you are.” Roy growls. Jamie can’t help the way his body tenses. Can’t stop the way his eyes flit around in panic.

“Jamie.” Someone says hesitantly. It’s Sam, crouching down next to him. “Are you sure you are alright?” Jamie’s eyes slowly make their way to Sam.

“Yeah, fine mate.” Jamie manages, glad he sounds tired rather than scared. “Just tired yeah.” That’s enough for some of the team who drift away slightly. But Sam stays crouching next to him. Isaac barely moves from his spot almost directly above Jamie. Roy slumps in a chair slightly away, most likely because of his knee. Dani has a frown marring his face, Zoreaux appears to be debating the benefits of crowding Jamie with the others, Richard cocking his head at him almost thoughtfully. Jan is fixing Jamie with a look reminiscent of an x-ray, while Bumbercatch is chewing on his lip in apprehension. Colin is sitting right behind Jamie, face almost carefully blank.

“You were making strange noises.” Jan says bluntly. There’s lots of way Jamie could reply. He could crack a sex joke, ease the awful tension. Brush it off as not important. Instead he shrugs.

“So?” He asks. He’s not a fan of the looks exchanged between his teammates.

“You sounded like you were… having a nightmare.” Sam says cautiously. Jamie scoffs like that’s complete bullshit. Like he didn’t just have exactly that. It’s stupid to act like this. But that childhood fear of pissing someone off remains forever present.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Colin asks softly. Jamie hates it. They’re treating him like one wrong word will make him shatter. He’s not fucking soft.

“I’m fine.” He insists. He’s getting really tired of the looks.

“It’s okay to have nightmares man.” Bumbercatch interjects. “It’s not like embarrassing.” Fuck no it is. It’s shitty, embarrassing, frustrating, and probably many other words.

“Talking about these things usually helps.” Sam offers quietly.

“Don’t worry amigo, we won’t judge you.” Dani says, Jamie just wishes he’d smile. Dani not smiling feels like a sign of the apocalypse.

“We’re here bruv.” Isaac adds.

“Was it the dickbag?” Roy asks with a low growl. It doesn’t exactly narrow it down. The Nottingham fans? The Nottingham players? His dad? Jamie shrugs again.

“I’m just gonna go to bed yeah.” He tells them, twisting away slightly. He almost trips getting to his feet, Zoreaux reaches to steady him. He flinches, hating himself slightly. He grabs his pillow and tries to leave again. Roy stands up to block him.

“Was it James?” He asks, voice lowering. Like it’s just him and Jamie in the room. “Look Jamie if you need to talk about what that dick did to you-.”

“I don’t.” Jamie says quickly. “I don’t need to talk about him.” There’s a tension in the room that you could cut with a knife.

“We didn’t talk after Wembley.” Roy says, clearly remembering how Jamie had just shut everyone off when anyone asked. “Let us fucking help you.”

“Is your father always terrible to you?” Jan asks bluntly. Jamie’s eyes shoot daggers at him.

“None of your fucking business.” He snarls. Internally he cringes, thinking it sounds too much like James. Jan merely raises an eyebrow.

“Jamie if he hurt you when you were younger then maybe you should talk about it.” Sam offers. Like bringing up the past is going to make things better. Like talking ever fucking helps. Jamie wants to scream.

“So he beat the shit out of me when I was a kid. So he was a useless fucking parent. ” Jamie snaps, tears prickling at his eyes. The open looks of horror on some of his teammates faces makes him cringe. He can’t stop though, can’t just leave it as is. “He’s my fucking problem.”

“Fucking hell Jamie, he shouldn’t have done that.” Roy growls. Richard grumbles something in French that Zoreaux nods in agreement with. It’s sounds angry and Jamie’s pretty sure he hears the name James muttered.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jamie insists.

“Of course it matters.” Sam replies. “You matter.” He probably shouldn’t scoff but Jamie can’t help it.

“Jamie, do we need to talk?” Roy asks, voice low. Jamie drops his pillow and flings his arms up.

“Fuck sake can’t we just drop it yeah? My dads a dick. We all know that.” He snaps. If the conversation continues he knows he’s going to cry. He’s going to sob like a little kid, fucking embarrassing. Roy steps closer, making Jamie shrink back. He wants to disappear into the ground. There’s nervous eyes all around.

“Let us help you amigo.” Dani says. “We are a team yes?” He offers Jamie a small smile. Jamie wishes he was yelling. Or that someone was angry, mad. Any fucking negative emotion. He knows how to deal with those. Instead everyone insists on huddling round him, offering support, caring about him.

His dad isn’t here but he can hear him calling him soft.

“It’s not… I don’t…” Jamie struggles to find the words. The ones that won’t make him cry and get everyone to leave him alone. “I just want to go to bed.”

“No way bruv.” Isaac shakes his head. “Not until you talk to us.”

“It’ll just be quicker if you do.” Colin says with a shrug, his face soft as he looks at Jamie. Jamie shoves his hands into his hoodie and blinks hard. “Otherwise we’ll just hound you til you break and tell us anyway.” Jamie stares at his team, that are standing round him like they’re worried he’s going to break if they get too far away.

“We won’t judge you.” Zoreaux says. “We just want to help.” Jamie is weak. He’s weak to them caring, with sad eyes, horrid glances. He doesn’t deserve a team ready to catch him when he falls but he’s lucky. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ve had nightmares for years.” He mumbles. “Bout him. I don’t… I’m not gonna talk about what they’re like about.” The team is nodding in understanding. “I just get so scared. And it’s stupid. I fucking hate it. I hate it so much.” Jamie sniffles, Sam and Dani move closer, both offering comfort. Jamie moves slightly out of reach, dropping onto his pillow and pulling his legs to his chest. “I don’t wanna talk about him.” It’s said into his legs but he knows they hear him. He hears a horrible cracking sound as Roy sits next to him. An arm snakes it’s way around his shoulders, he can’t help but tense. He feels someone else sit on his other side.

“Puppy pile.” He hears Bumbercatch say and suddenly there’s nine grown men leaning on him as he’s pushed close to the floor. Jamie’s pretty sure Isaac is behind him playing pillow, Colin’s on his left shoulder. Sam is on his left leg and so is Dani. Bumbercatch is somehow across both legs. Roy is looming by his right shoulder. Zoreaux is half resting on Jamie, half on Roy. Richard has managed to curl up practically on Jamie’s stomach. Jan is somewhere around his knee.

“Fuck Richard, ease up a bit.” Jamie grumbles. “I can’t breathe.”

“No.” Richard says sweetly even as he adjusts a bit so that Jamie’s lungs can actually work.

“Bro you have really bony ankles.” Bumbercatch says.

“Fuck off.” Jamie mumbles. He twists slightly, leaning into the collar of Roy’s jacket. He feels safe in the pile of people. Jan complains that he is too much person to be forced into such a cramped position. Colin cracks a joke about being too much person to handle. They’re giggling a little, letting Jamie feel at ease.

The nightmares stay away for once.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 15: Night

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Night Rated: T 

A/N: A continuation "Game On” and “Pixie” Marinette had been in Gotham for a little over a year now, having left behind her life in Paris to attend Gotham University.  It all started when she got involved with Catwoman, who saved her one night when she was in trouble.  Then she got roped into a little game between Catwoman and Batman, and that was how she met Jason and Roy, Red Hood and Arsenal respectively. While with Jason and Roy, they had their ups and downs. Initially she felt that the two were overprotective, but they were able to reconcile after a fateful encounter in the Iceberg Lounge.  Ever since that fateful encounter, what started as a harmless little crush began to grow over time.  For once, she got to know people who understood both the real her and her superheroine persona.  They knew her as a quick thinker in battle, and a civilian with a tendency to catastrophize things.  While she was sitting in the car with Jason and Roy, driving back from Star City.  The only sounds that could be heard were the scratching of pencil on paper, and the hum of the engine as they drove.  She tried to throw herself into her upcoming design assignments that weren’t due for another few weeks, doing anything to avoid thinking about Jason sleeping peacefully in the front seat of the car.  Tikki was nestled in her bag nibbling on a cookie and only Roy seemed to notice how quiet the drive back to Gotham was.  She had developed a close friendship with the three of them, one which wasn’t complicated by secret and civilian identities.  They had each other’s backs in combat, and they worked well as a team together.  Marinette cursed herself, for the first time in a long time, she had relationships that weren’t complicated by secrets and secret identities.   Now she was going to ruin everything just because she could not keep her heart and her feelings under control, it was pathetic.  It was easier to think that Jason was a stubborn, sarcastic brute who couldn’t possibly understand her.  He could still be stubborn and sarcastic at times, but then he had to go and have another side to him.  A side of him that cared deeply for those close to him, a group of people that now included Marinette.  It wasn’t fair.  Marinette shook her head and turned her attention back to her design work,  these patterns weren’t going to sketch themselves. It was also one of the few times she got to work with more delicate fabrics. Jason was pretending to be asleep on the drive from Star City back to Gotham, not unlike the one that happened a few months ago. It seemed like yesterday they first heard about a new superheroine who managed to take on two of his younger brothers.  Marinette was certainly a girl with many contradictions, even when they first met her on that rooftop that fateful night.  She could be very creative with her magic yo-yo, and in a fight she was usually a level-headed and quick thinker.  That much was clear to anyone who saw her in action, which was probably for the best, given that Jason had a very short fuse and a tendency to brute force his way through situations.  By the same token, the same person was prone to flying off the handle in much more mundane situations.   One time she woke up early for a test that wasn’t for another two days, and flew into a panicked stream of consciousness that made it sound like she was going to be shipped back to her home city in a matchbox if she was late.  Jason didn’t dare turn around to look at her in the backseat, but he could just about imagine what she looked like.  The scratching of pencil on paper told him that she was probably designing something that had more in common with a ball gown than body armour.  Her skills as a seamstress came in handy when their body armour needed upgrades or adjustments, not everyone could be gifted with the power of a magic body suit.  Even Hal Jordan was a test pilot long before he became a Green Lantern, Marinette was just a teenager when she got given magic jewelry. Secret identities and personas aside, at her core Marinette was still the same person.  She was kind, forgiving, but most of all she trusted him, something very few people did.  At first he wrote it off as all of them having each other’s backs in a fight. While that was true it wasn’t the whole  story, he knew because he could say the same thing about Roy.  He considered maybe it was because she managed to calm his pit madness, but that was because she had the very creatures who created them by her side.  Jason still called her “Pixie '' from time to time, really out of affection more than anything.  He only used her name when he was being absolutely dead serious.  It was a lot more than that and he knew it, he knew that she was worming her way past all the walls he had put up, seemingly without even trying.  He convinced himself that it was dangerous for all involved, that it would just leave him vulnerable in the end.  She was getting closer and closer to his heart, at which point he would be completely and utterly vulnerable.  He wanted to hold her close to him, but was afraid that she would hold his heart in her tiny delicate hands and squeeze.  

Roy was exhausted, not just from the mission, but from being caught right in the middle of two of his friends pining after each other. In the car ride back to Gotham, he could easily tell that Marinette was busying herself with design work while Jason was pretending to be asleep.  It would be cute if it wasn’t a sign that these two were actively avoiding talking to each other. Possibly because they were worried they might slip up and reveal their very obvious feelings for the other person.  He overheard Marinette confiding in the Kwamis late one night, when she thought both of them were out.   Jason by contrast was a little less expressive, but Roy could still tell that he was also pining after her, in his own little way.   He had tried to gently coax it out of them, and even though they refused to admit it Roy could tell.   Marinette was an open book whenever he even suggested the idea that she might be slightly attracted to Jason. At the slightest suggestion that there was something between her and Jason, her face would go tomato red and she would deny it.  Jason was a much tougher nut to crack, but Roy already knew that from the get-go. If Marinette wore her heart on her sleeve, then Jason kept his heart guarded with steel and lead.  He tried to ask him about it on a mission, when Marinette was out of earshot.   Instead he took a leaf out of Dick’s book and asked if it was really the time and place for a “man chat”.  The three of them could be compared to The Three Musketeers, but Jason and Marinette were more like Beatrice and Benedict from Much Ado About Nothing.  He was cursing Jason’s detective training, because it meant he would see right past a forged love note, while making things worse for Marinette.  If Roy was still drinking, he would have probably told them that they should just screw and get it over with.  He was starting to understand why Lian would smush her doll’s faces together and get them to ‘kiss’.  That gave him an idea...

Marinette and Jason were calmly watching TV together one night.  It was Valentine's Day, but neither of them really had any plans with anyone.  Staying in and waiting for chocolate prices to crater seemed like a much better idea.  Tikki was perched on Marinette’s shoulder, while Plagg was about to inhale a very large piece of camembert. The two of them were a comfortable distance apart, neither of them were willing to make the first move.  Suddenly, Roy busts in through the front door. Dressed up as Arsenal with a few extra accessories, a tutu and a pair of fairy wings he likely borrowed from Lian. He came in wide grin, wielding his bow with an odd heart shaped arrow. 

 “Happy Valentine's Day bitches!” he yelled out, taking aim at Marinette and Jason. The grappling arrow wrapping around the two, tightly binding them together on the sofa. Just as Marinette and Jason realise what just happened, Roy runs back out the door, slamming it on his way out.

An awkward silence hung in the air as Jason and Marinette were tied together, their faces mere inches apart. Marinette blushing a storm, while Jason tried to keep his composure and looked away from her.  That said, he could feel her deep blue eyes watching him, and he was fairly certain she could hear the sound of his heart beating in his chest.  Their arms were clamped firmly to their sides, and both of them thought that Roy had done this as a stupid prank.  “Did Roy tell you he was going to…” Marinette began. “...put on a tutu and fairy wings and tie us up on the couch?” Jason finished, he swallowed, she already looked embarrassed by the whole situation.  “No, did he tell you?” he asked. Marinette shook her head, “No, but he seems to have got it into his head that you’re interested in me.” she said as she tried to wriggle free, “as if that would ever happen.” “I mean...” the conversations he wrote off as late night man-chats were starting to make sense to him.  “...is that really so hard to believe?” he asked quietly.  There was no keeping her at arm’s length at that moment, physically or otherwise.  He noticed that she had stopped trying to wriggle free of the cord wrapped tightly around him. “A little,” she said, “It just seemed too good to be true,” she muttered.  “You’re one of the few people who knows about both Marinette and Ladybug, you know that they’re the same person.”  she explained, “the idea that you would be interested in me on top of all that just felt like it was too good to be true, like something will do horribly wrong sooner or later. Like there was no way the universe was going to let me be that happy.” Jason was surprised to hear that, but also he understood what she meant.  It was funny how on paper, they were two completely different people, and in some way they were.  It was moments like these that reminded them there were still similarities that kept them together.  For the first time since Roy had tied them up, he looked at her. “Marinette, take it from someone who’s a literal dead man walking. Trust me, that is not the most impossible thing out there, not even close.” he tried to say, Marinette looked up at him, trying to make sense of the meaning in his words.  “If anyone’s going to get slapped around by the universe, and feel as if they don’t deserve to have someone who’s seen different sides of them and still cares about them, it’s probably me,” he explained. 

Both of them finally knew what Roy was trying to do,  after all he had been painfully obvious. Jason himself tries to get a sharp batarang from his pocket, he assures Marinette, “Don’t worry Pixie, I’ll get us out of here and we can forget this ever happened.” 

 Marinette remains silent as Jason struggles against the wire tying them together, Tikki floats to her side and whispers into her ear. “Marinette, it's now or never.” Marinette looks back to see all the Plagg cheering her with a grunt. If lifting the piece of camembert with little enthusiasm counts as cheering. 

 Marinette takes a deep breath, and gathers her courage. “Jason?” she asks, and Jason pauses to look back at her.  Her face had a rosy pink glow as she leaned forward to give Jason a kiss. Jason pauses in shock at first before, and slowly melts to return the kiss. As the two kiss, Tikki helps untie the two. Just as Tikki finishes untying, Marinette and Jason hold each other in a tight embrace, eagerly savouring their newfound relationship. 

 Roy peeked his head through the window watching Marinette and Jason finally confess to each other. “About time you two got together” he cheered from the fire escape, giving the two a thumbs up and a big grin. This breaks Marinette and Jason from their affectionate moment together, embarrassing Marinette and annoying Jason. 

 Jason stomps over to the fire escape, Roy nervously greets Jason “Hey buddy, how’s it going?”

 Jason grabs Roy by the ankle, dangling him off the edge of the fire escape. “Pixie, why don't you give him a taste of his own medicine?” Marinete nods and walks over with the grappling arrow Roy shot at the two. 

 Roy pleaded, “Come guys, you two had it bad for each other it was obvious.” Marinette begins to tie Roy to the fire escape with the grappling wire. Roy attempts to struggle but Jason holds him down. 

 As Marinette progresses further in tying Roy up, his pleas become more and more desperate. 

 “I did you two a favour.” Roy begs, “Come on, is this how you two repay me? Help! Somebody! Batman! BATMAAAN!” Roy wailed. 

 Marinette and Jason ignore Roy’s begging. Once they were finished they both left, hand in hand, leaving Roy tied upside down to do some self-reflection. 

 BONUS 

Cupid: What's this I hear about you playing Cupid? 

Roy: Sorry, it was for two people who were actually in love. 

Cupid: Why you little- 

Roy: Cupid, it's been YEARS, you're a very attractive woman. It can't be that hard to find someone who loves you back, someone who doesn’t have a goatee.

[liquid-luck-00]

My Life is One Complication After Another 3

Cursing Ahead 🤬

Ao3 *** First *** Previous *** Next

~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since Mari's classmates stopped talking with her, they also stopped asking her for favors. Along with a blocked and rotating schedule for patrols meant that she actually had a sleep schedule. Sure she didn't get nearly enough but that was what coffee is for.

That was how she found herself down in the bakery with her papa. Roy had called her and the four of them talked and it was comfortable. Mari was the one who opened and was watching the front. She was still talking with Roy, but now it was on a headset, as he was out patrolling In Starling City.

"So as I was saying before we were oh so rudely interrupted." came Roy's voice in her ear. "So Ice cream and movies?"

A soft laughter escaped her and a smile on her lips.

"Sounds gre..." the bell at the door chimed. "Hey guys come in," she greeted the Waynes.

"Let me guess the bats?" Roy supplied as Dick bounced towards the counter.

"Good morning Marinette!" Dick practically sang loud enough for even Roy to hear.

"God how the hell is he so chipper so early." she heard Roy grumble.

"God damn morning people," she grumbled. That elicited laughter from both Roy and Jason.

"Amen to that!" Tim seconded in a monotone lifting a coffee cup. "Maman I'm going to take the Waynes up." she called poking her head into the kitchen. Her Maman nodded so she picked up her phone and walked towards them.

"I'll Let you go," Roy was about to hang up.

"Wait how about we give the Bats a heart attack." she smirked changing to the ancient language of miracles.

"I like the way you think, I'll catch you later." he responded in the same tongue.

"See ya then." she smiled, switching back the language. Ending the call and removing the ear piece. “Are you guys coming or do I have to drag you guys?" she turned back already at the door. Granted most of them showed confused faces and side eyes, but she smiled. They followed her without saying a word.

Once they were in the apartment she excused herself to change into more appropriate gear. She activated Kaalki’s miraculous, who then silently portaled out.

That being said she changed into a pair of black skinny cargo pants with red combat boots. A black long sleeve shirt under a cropped red sleeveless hoodie. Her hair was half down with red and pink streaks and a mini white gold backpack with three patches in the same white gold finished her outfit. She grabbed four parcels and went down.

"So we can either do the boring ground tour or," she held up the bundles. "we can turn up the speed."

"I like the way you think Pixie Pop." Jason stood and she handed him his.

"Roy sent me you guy's sizes, so I altered and customized a few things." she smiled. "bathroom is over there and the guest room is next to it." Dick looked torn between excited and horrified when handed his stack.

Tim seemed awake, but she knew better, "go change and I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready." He nodded robotically as he got up.

She set the last bunch next to Damian, who was looking like an angry kitten. She sat down next to him and leaned in.

"What are you.." he started but Mari whispered in his ear.

"The jacket has a hidden sling for a katana, which will be practically invisible when on." His eyes widened slightly and there was a bit of slack in his jaw now. Before turning into an amused smirk. "Use my room up the stairs and through the hatch." she finished as he headed up the stairs.

"I'm impressed he let you close without struggling," Bruce broke his silence, as she finished prepping the coffee maker.

"Well he would have if," she began as Damian practically crashed down the stairs and all but tackled Bruce before rushing out the door. The closest she had ever seen her baby brother smile, which effectively made her smile.

"Holy crap! What are you?!" Dick made himself known.

"More importantly what the fuck did you do with Demon spawn!" Jason shouted from next to Tim, who was being propped up by both Jason and Dick.

"Tt. I am right here Todd." The scowl reappearing on his features. "It is adequate Dupain-Cheng."

"I'll take it as a compliment on one condition."

"And that is?" he rose a brow.

"You call me Marinette not Dupain-Cheng. I'm your sister aren't I?"

He seemed to war with himself for a moment before stating. "That is acceptable, Marinette."

At this point all the bats in the room were playing a game of ping-pong between Marinette and Damian. They were trying to figure out what magic spell Marinette must have used, when in reality she just seemed to fall into Damian’s good graces automatically. OK so maybe Marinette being the holder of the ladybug miraculous as well as being the great guardian of the order has that affect on most people, a sense of respect and trust that seems to permeate her aura.

She was handing Tim a huge mug as the front door swung open to reveal her Maman.

"Hello Bruce," Sabine greeted.

"It is good to see you Sabine," was his response.

“Maman," Mari pulled her mother's attention from her biological father. "These are Bruce's boys and my brothers. Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian." she motioned to each one respectively.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Sabine smiled, "why don't all of you get something from the bakery before you go."

After finishing their small breakfast in the park Mari pulled out a map and a marker.

"So what do you guys want to see?" They listed off places that she marked down. She added a few to the list to fill it out, marked the route and took a picture and sent it to Roy. "Okay so this will work." she glanced at her phone. A quick look on social media showed no one has found Andre yet. She pulled out a case of comms and added, "Also keep your eyes out for Andre."

"Who is that?" Dick asked taking the earpiece.

"Andre's Ice cream cart, the best ice cream in Paris." Marinette answered.

"Then why must we look for him?" Damian added.

"Well he changes locations daily and turns it into a game of tag of sorts."

"Alright, lead the way Pixie." with a smirk she dashed off her brothers close on her heels.

Yes this is the best way to get to see the city, but this was also a test to see how the bats did without their toys.

Getting to Notre Dame was uneventful. Dick kept up a steady conversation with her, just a step behind with Damian, Jason brought up the rear but would constantly toss in quips and questions. Damian and Tim were mostly quiet, unless they were trying to get one of their brothers to stop a particularly embarrassing story.

Getting to the Louve was even more entertaining. Now that Dick had a feel for the Parisian roofs he would do flips and vaults to make her laugh. In the Louve is another story.

They had accidentally ran into some of her classmates, quite literally. She and her brothers were taking goofy 'walk like an Egyptian' group photos on the second floor of the Egyptian exhibit, the mini Ladybug camera was reattaching to her phone charm when Tim began asking her questions about it.

"Well my best friend loves anime, and we kinda sorta binged the entire Dragon Ball series and when we saw the ladybug camera. He said it would be impossible to create and maintain the quality of the image. So I kinda sorta made it out of spite." she mumbled the end.

"Hell if you weren't my sister I would beg Bruce to adopt you," Tim stated. "Do you have the files I would love to look through them. Maybe send them to Babs or Cy!"

"Sure I think I have it on a flash drive." That was when a tall body, walking backwards slammed into her, pushing her into Jason. "oof."

"You okay." Dick was in full mama hen mode fretting over her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going." the figure spoke as he turned around. "I'm sor." the words died on his tongue, Kim.

Max, Alix, Nino, Alya, and oh kwami no Lila, who were now all snickering.

"I'm fine Dick," she smiled to reassure him. However her classmates were shocked.

Lila of course was the one who broke the silence, by beginning to cry. "I'm so sorry about her. I know she hates me but to be so rude to a complete stranger!" her sobs breaking the sentence while her lackeys went to console her, glaring daggers at Marinette.

"Seriously girl," Alya began to scold her. "Your little out burst not only made Lila cry. Your insulting someone who is just trying to be nice."

She and her brothers were now standing awkwardly being scolded by a teenager. After three minutes of trying to figure out what they were being scolded for and why the guys hadn't apparently left.

"What the fuck did she do that your yelling at her for?" Jason finally broke Alya's rant. Now it was the five Parisians and the Italian to stand there confused.

"She called him a dick," Alya sighed exasperated.

"Yes." Dick answered confusing them further.

"Dick."Tim now called.

"What?!"

"Dick!!" Damian, Marinette, Tim, and Jason all called, and immediately began laughing.

"What? Oh, oh," a sheepish smile now on his face. “Names Richard but I go by Dick,” he explained to those who weren’t laughing, smiling at them.

"Tt. this is why I call you Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes. "Besides this one still has not apologized." he jabbed a finger to Kim.

"It's not worth it Damian,” Marinette shook her head. "We should head back to the bakery anyways. Maman has probably finished scolding Bruce." she smirked.

"Damn I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation" Jason lamented.

"Well..." she held up the ladybug charm and flipped it over showing an empty space.

"Two!" Tim shouted.

"Anyone who beats me back gets a copy," she smiled.

"Your on." Jason nodded as he vaulted over the safety wall from the second floor. Damian and Dick sprinted in opposite directions.

"Sorry Mars your gonna loose." Tim shouted as the last to leave.

"We'll see," she shot back. "Bye," She turned to her classmates as she grabbed the railing above and flipped up and over to the third floor, running to one of the secret zip lines the miraculous team set up.

"What the fuck" was faintly heard behind her, all but Lila and Max shouted by the sounds of it, as she jumped from the window.

She made up quite a bit of distance and seemed to be on Damian's heel. She had passed Tim and Dick was a few steps behind. Jason was just out of arm reach. So with a burst of speed both she and Damian were shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The three of them simultaneously practically crashed into the side door of the bakery.

"I won."

"In your dreams Todd."

"I beat both you and Pixie"

"Check your eyes, or do you need the camera installed in your helmet." Jason's gaze hardened at Damian's words.

"How about we call it a three way tie and you both get a copy." Mari interrupted. "We should head up." Laughing Marinette opened the door and went up.

Lunch was rambunctious, but she was coming to expect that with her brothers.

“Too bad we couldn’t find that ice cream guy Mari,” Tim spoke up once everyone had finished eating.

“Oh let’s see if anyone has posted where he’s at today!” She went to check her phone but a message ended up distracting her.

Andres in your favorite spot I’ll meet you there at 7 your time.

"Cool he’ s in my favorite spot in all of Paris which just happens to be the last spot on our list today," she announced, sending off a text, setting her phone down, screen up.

Can't wait Katniss

"Why don’t you all go and Mari can get to know Bruce," Sabine offered.

OK granted it’s a good idea, maybe I should get to know my biological father but am I ready to? Do I want to? Am I yes, yes I want to get to know my biological father, yes I want my family to grow, my brothers are such protective goofballs and I love them already.

"Sounds good," she smiled.

That was when her phone lit up from a message. She went to pick it up, but she was to slow.

Jason was the one who snacked her phone. "Message from Katniss says see ya then Peeta. So who's Katniss Pixie."

"Well..." she started but she began to blush furiously.

"That would be her boyfriend," her Maman decided to add before heading back down to the bakery with Papa.

Dick pounced asking a million and one questions, Bruce physically froze but she could tell his mind was racing because that look was much the same as hers. Jason was pensive, while Tim and Damian just seemed bored or tired.

So that was how she found herself talking about Roy, blushing furiously. While simultaneously avoiding his name and details that would tip any of them off. After about a half hour of her answering questions did Dick start telling her about his fiancée. How they were planning on setting a date for the wedding.

After that the next few hows was spent sharing stories and tidbits of themselves.

However, thanks to Dick a design was swimming in her mind. so she did the only logical thing and ran up to her room. Grabbed three drives, her tablet and pen and ran back down. She tossed the red drive to Tim, and Jason and Damian each a black drive. Plopped down and began stretching out an Italian suit with a nock lapel. A rough coloration of a midnight blue offset by a sapphire. Accents of golden thread, emerald buttons and an Osiria rose in the lapel. She signed the design 'Mira Luck' and handed Dick the tablet.

"So I couldn't help myself," she begun to fidget. "But in my defense you told a designer about a wedding and my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until this was on something. So what do you think? I know its rough but."

"Holy Shit your Mira Luck as in M, Jagged Stones personal designer. You are M as in the designer for the Lucky Spot!!" Tim screamed lunging to take the tablet from Dick.

"That's me," a blindingly bright smile lit up her features.

"So what do you think?" she asked again.

"It's amazing we were actually hoping to talk to you about Kori’s dress." Dick smiled. "I could call her it's not too late there."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss it in person when Marinette next goes, that way she can get to know Gotham." Bruce interjected.

"That actually might be sooner than you think," she responded.

"I was actually accepted to be an exchange student for the next semester at Gotham Academy."

"Wait you’re willing we going to Gotham to study! You ’re going to Gotham willingly. Bruce I think your daughter might be a little crazy." Jason surprisingly brought up.

"I might be but but it’s no crazier than Paris and it’s a Akumas. Besides I would love to design your fiancée’s dress and we should head over to Andre’s ice cream before the sunsets that way we can watch the lighting of the Eiffel tower." She got up and called out. "Hey Jason mind passing me my backpack."

"Yeah sure," he went around he couch to grab it and toss it to her but before he did he finally seemed to notice the patches. "Wait are these The Outlaws."

"Yeah Red Hood, Arsenal, Star Fire, and Bizarro." she was smiling.

"Why choose The Outlaws?" Tim brought up.

"Honestly it was because Roy mentioned something about Arsenal and Red Hood and I ended up liking of the logos, so I made them into the backpack," she shrugged. "Besides unless you’re looking at it close enough you can’t tell which is always fun to see if people pay attention to it, let’s go."

At that the six of them walked out of the apartment, away from the bakery towards the Palais de Chaillot.

"So what's so special about Andre's Ice cream?" B asked.

"Personally I think he is a meta. But what he does is he can either see your true reflection or that of the person best suited to you."

"So he sees souls?" Tim added.

"Not quite, more like he sees the main qualities of you or your go." she tapped her chin.

"But he is meta,” Tim tried to figure.

"That's the only explanation I can come up with but I have no idea." Marinette shrugged.

"So how does he do it." Tim was now fully invested in this.

"Well you either ask for love or self and he usually does three to four ice cream flavors and gives a short reason."

They were now at the top of the stairs at the Palais de Chaillot looking out at the Eiffel Tower. They stood there as the last of the light faded from the sky. The city was dark for a moment as the Eiffel Tower lit up and slowly the lamps lit up.

"So that's why this is your favorite spot Minnie." A voice behind her chuckled. She turned around and nearly tackled him.

"Hey speedy." she pecked his cheek.

Not a second later did Jason scream, "Roy!"

"Ready for that movie?” Roy asked her an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled. "See you guys around."

"What the fuck are you doing in Paris Roy!?" Jason screamed.

"Um... Date night," he answered. The Waynes were now practically surrounding the couple.

"What?" Apparently it was Dick's turn to yell.

"Seriously. I thought you said the bats and birds were detectives." she spoke just loud enough for them to hear. "It's kinda hard to believe with the big bat having a heart attack over there." Sure enough Bruce was seriously hyperventilating.

"Oh mind giving this to LB?" He handed her a small nondescript red box.

"Sure," Marinette took the box, "Au Revoir."

From there they left and oh kwamii did she wish she could replay that again, oh wait I can.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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[abizarreyodelingincident]

Braaaaaaains...

Jason Todd is legally – and biologically – dead. His family noted his lack of pulse at three in the morning, inside the cave, his body laid out on a table with medical instruments.

No, really, tell him something he doesn't know.

What else crawls out of a grave moaning and groaning?

Or, Jason thought his family full of the world's greatest detectives was smarter than this. Apparently not.

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

It had been an ordinary night. Calm. The stage for very little costumed crime and barely more regular, non-insane crime as well. Half the menagerie that made up Dick's loving ragtag bunch of younger siblings had even taken the night off.

Nothing should have make him arrive to silence this thick, to this faint echo of sniffling.

He sprinted after the noise.

Damian's fine, left before me. Duke didn't go out, nor did Steph. Babs spent the evening with Cass in the cave, Tim swept the bowery and said he was going to stop by Jason's place to-

He collided with a shaking, tear stained Tim right outside the medbay.

There was a body on the closest table. Others around it, crying, pacing, muttering in denial.

Dick couldn't look.

No, no, please, please no. I can't do that again. I can't!

Scarred skin, too pale – to be Duke or Cass – by death. His breath hitched. No. He. Fuck.

He knew those scars. Those arms. That chest and that fucking Y from navel to shoulders.

“Dick! Jason... he was...  I found him in his apartment. And I brought him to the cave... but... Jason doesn't have a pulse. He's... cold...”

Dick stumbled.

No.

No, no, no, that... that couldn't be real.

He caught himself on his little brother. Brought himself into a hug too tight, as painful as the arms gripping his ribs and back. A grip meant for a lifesaving light at sea. For a safeline over a ravine.

Twice. He'd lost the same brother twice. And this time, he didn't even have the excuse of inexperience and unstable situations. He... he patrolled the city whilst his brother was dead, completely oblivious to the fact. How could he? How dare he not know?!

“Shh, Tim, I'm here. I'm here.” But not for Jason, whispered a vicious part of him.

“What's all this?”

Dick's heart just about stopped.

Damian stood at the entrance to the lockers' room, uniform folded under one arm, hair slightly damp from a shower and Bat-themed pajamas worn without shame. His mild annoyance was proof he had no idea of the drama that had happened not twenty feet from him.

With reluctance, he let go of Tim, a gentle hand lingering on his shoulder, before he took a few steps toward his youngest, most vulnerable brother.

“D-Dami, I... ”   Damn it, he had to be the one to tell Damian about this. Because otherwise, the person to break the news would be Bruce, and-

Shit.

Bruce.

Oh God. How could they possibly tell him- ? After all their fights, the goddamned shattering that had broken the man he had been, and their last conversations even being more admonishment about protocols that Jason had flippantly disregarded. Bruce would never recover. That was it. The end of Batman.

...But first, God he hated himself, wanted to just curl up in a corner and forget everything, first he had a young brother he needed to talk to. One... one little brother less than just this afternoon.

“Jason... ” He swallowed, his throat tight, his heart in denial, the words so damning, but needing to be said. “Jason did not make it. He... he's dead.”

Damian stayed thoughtfully silent.

Not... not the tearful reaction he had expected, but Damian had grown up surrounded by so much death and horror that he would obviously be guarded. And oh, Dick's heart went to his baby brother, and he truly wished he could

“I do not understand. Why such theatrics for the zombie?”

Dick gasped, knowledge warring with the flash of anger.

“Damian! He's our brother!”

“Did he lose his head?” Damian demanded, and Dick's mind buckled.

“Huh, no, but that doesn't have anything to d-”

“Then, why are you acting so weirdly emotional, Richard?”

Before Dick's temper could catch up to his mouth, the longest and most painful-sounding gasp erupted from the medbay, where, to the general shock of all, Jason's gray-ish body shot upward with both his arms raised.

Electroshocks didn't make you jolt like that.

Electroshocks, in fact, remained in their kit on the other side of the medbay, unused. Because Jason had seemingly been dead long before he had been brought to the cave.

That was roughly the moment when Dick's brain caught up with the first of many hints. Latched onto it with a fool's hope.

“... Damian... When you were calling Jason a 'zombie', what did you mean?”

Damian's brows scrunched up together, a look he meant to be intimidating, but had more in common with a disgruntled kitten. “Exactly that, Richard. Do we not have files on zombies in the computer? Dead bodies walking about animated by unholy powers?”

Jason's not- Dick forced the half formed thought to a halt. For once, he rather wanted to be very, very wrong in how he perceived his family.

“What's with all the noise? Can't someone try to sleep like the dead without screaming?” Jason groused. “Should have gotten myself buried ag-OOF!”

“JASON!” screamed the hysterical teenager that had launched himself at a very lively dead body.

“Huhh? Hi, Timmy?” Jason said blearily, ruffling Tim's hair, eyebags suspiciously prominent. “... Fear gas?”

The blinking slowed, the fog of sleep drifting away as he silently begged the rest of them for an answer.

Happily provided by a still crying Tim. “I thought you were gone!”

“What is dead may never die,” Jason quipped, his mouth twisting in that cocksure grin from his Robin days.

And Dick wanted nothing more than to stop right there, pass out from the relief and joy of his little brother being alive and kicking, but...

But... 

That joke. One of many morbidly unfunny jokes and puns.

Bone-deep fatigue crushed his back. A bitter curse for whatever higher forces messing with them echoed strongly inside his skull, before he gave in to the inevitable and inhaled a few times for patience.

“Jason. We thought you were dead-dead.”

With prickly, hedgehog style affection, Jason pushed Tim back and stood up, stretching. “Come off it, Goldie. I wasn't even decapitated. I mean, if you were really worried, you could have just called a necromancer or something.” His expression hardened. “But if you ever call a necromancer on my ass, I'll shoot your perfect glutes.”

Yup, yup, yup, this is happening.

Tim finally wiped the rest of the tears away, helped by one of Stephanie's handkerchiefs, when he froze. “Wait. Your skin's still pale as a corpse.”

The flicker of amusement in Jason's eyes killed it for Dick.

God, how could they have all been this idiotic? If Wally ever learned about this – Shit, did Roy and Kory know before him?!

They were going to laugh their asses off at him.

Jason, unaware of the world recalibration happening in his poor big brother's mind, shrugged and rolled his shoulders – who creaked suspiciously loudly, more like rusty hinges than normal body parts. “Eh, I'm just a bit hungry. Nothing a meal or two won't fix and get some blood flowing back under my s-”

“You're a zombie.”

They turned toward him.

“Way to cross the finish line on time, Mister Rabbit,” Jason drawled.

Barbara, for once, looked completely unprepared. “A zombie,” she repeated, dazed.

Stephanie's nervous giggle died out when she noticed the lack of humor. “... No!”

Cassandra furiously looked down, muttering in her fist. Duke, by contrast, had the expression of a person stuck in a very awkward nightmare.

Even Jason's good-natured ribbing faded in when faced only with the distant screeched of bats. “... Hm, guys, bats, roostery, parasites and octopi? This is old news. What's with all the... ”

He vaguely gestured at their faces.

“Old news?” Tim rasped like he was being strangled.

“I came back from the dead years ago! Come on! Am I in a parallel universe? Hey, Demon Brat,” Jason called, baffled, “you knew, right? I didn't imagine that, right?!”

“Of course, Todd. Mother informed me of everything. Besides, Grandfather's interest in your state of being was of interest for a few weeks. How could I have been ignorant about your zombified state of being?”

In the corner of his eyes, Dick noticed Tim's, Barbara's and Cassandra's expressions all pinching in displeasure. In a way, Dick was reassured. He hadn't been the target of a family-wide hoax to discredit him as an attentive and loving eldest brother. No, he was just naturally blind, apparently.

“He knew?” Tim growled, like it was a personal failing of the fabric of time and space.

Damian's tone was the exact opposite. “And none of you realized...?”

Dick squirmed. “I... huh... you see...”

His baby brother eyed him, completely unimpressed, and for once after years of partnership, Dick felt he deserved every single ounce of it.

“I see... I shall reevaluate the value of this 'detective training' I've been given if this is the result then,” he said, the nearest thing to completely disavowing his older siblings without saying so.  

In other circumstances, perhaps the others would have demanded that Damian stay and explain, but he suspected the quelling look it would have deserved prevented them. Not one of them spoke until Damian had disappeared upstairs and the elevator doors had closed.

“Jason, since when have you been a zombie?”

Jason blinked, jaw hanging. Juuuust enough for some of the scar tissue on his face to stretch past normal. Why did Dick only notice that now?

“Wait, you're all serious? How could you not know? I told you guys!”

And there was Dick's pride rearing its ugly head, because no, no he had not been told and maybe his deductive skills needed a very complete overhaul, but his memory was still excellent!

“You never said that. Heck, we weren't even talking until two years ago!”

“I literally told you all that I crawled out of my grave by myself, groaning the entire time. No experiment, no Lazarus Pit, just a body waking up in its own coffin and deciding to breathe fresh air. Does that not scream 'zombie' to you?”

They cringed.

“Not the only one that returned from beyond,” Babs mumbled. He could see her pull up the mental list right there.

“I greeted you all last meeting with a 'What's up, my bat folks? It's me, your favorite zombie!'. What did you think that meant?”

“That you're an asshole with a morbid sense of humor?” Stephanie quipped, and Jason momentarily paused his indignation to high five her. Fair's fair.

“Okay, but what about that time I got shot in the chest and I told you all not to worry about it?”

“I just figured you were going to get stitched up by Leslie or yourself, you know, regular bat neuroses,” Tim confessed.

Dick made a mental note to keep a much closer eye on Tim's patrols for the next few months.

“From a bullet chest wound?” Jason asked with an incredulousness that was not at all earned, because he was a freaking zombie!

“I thought your armor had blocked it! The hole wasn't bleeding!” Tim protested, cheeks red and tone defensive.

“Well, yeah,” Jason replied. “I don't bleed. It's like some fruit pulp or something. Ain't coming out if you don't press. My heart's not pumping.”

That's a 'nevermind' on the smoothie I saved for after patrol.

“Well, I know that now,” Tim said.

“I feel like I should write it down on the plaque or something,” Jason still sounded amazed, and might have pinched his arm just to be sure he hadn't been daydreaming, “Like, 'a good soldier AND A VERY DISCRETE ZOMBIE!' in big flaming letters. With a spotlight. And a dictionary opened on 'Zombie' or 'Undead'. You know, just in case the next batbrat to come along needs a few subtle hints about my true nature. What'd you think, Dick?”

He could not have been blushing harder than he currently was. “I think shut up.”

“Of course. What about when I shoved my deadly cold toes at Tim under a blanket?”

“Cold feet.”

“Never eating around you guys?”

“Daddy issues with Bruce,” Barbara deadpanned, and got a sock thrown at her for her honesty.

However, Duke, poor kid, turned green. “Wait, so when you offered me some jellied brain... was that not a death joke?”

Dick's stomach spontaneously shrivelled.

By the grimaces and sharp inhales all around, that was a common reaction.

Then the worst possible thing happened: Jason grinned.

He strutted, all confidence and brashness, and viper-quick, snatched an arm around Duke's shoulder. “Narrows, Nightlight, my tiny bitsy bro, everything I do is a death joke. My very existence laughs at death.”

Inside the batcave, the groaning was long-suffering and shameful.

“But that was actually brains,” Duke countered.

“Yeah. Calf brains. It's a delicacy.”

Tim massaged his forehead. What a mood.

Duke narrowed his eyes. “It was purely for the joke, wasn't it?”

Jason patted him on the back so hard Duke faltered. “One tragically wasted on your obtuse mind. I prefer me some Tête fromagée instead. Less like grainy jello.”

Stone-faced, Barbara wheeled herself toward the batcomputer. There, upon a series of quick clicks, she opened up the Bats's files. “Alright, you had your fun. Do you need to eat brains or are you just the world's least funny meathead?”

“I'm the world's most misunderstood vigilante!” Jason loudly protested, milking their pain for all it was worth. And then some. “But yeah, I do. No grey matter in there” -- he tapped his belly -- “no thinking up here.” -- his skull.

“Need some better quality brains then,” Tim stage-whispered to Stephanie.

Cass pointed the finger at Jason. “No killing for brains.”

Jason's good humor flickered with a flash of green. “Ain't ever done it, never will. It's a matter of morals, not hunger, Cass.”

Dick swooped in that minefield before it exploded.

“Great! Proud of you, Jay! You're the good kind of vegetarian zombie,” he said, putting an arm around his ginormous little brother's shoulders.

Wait a minute...

“Hey, you're older than when you died! Zombies don't age.”

“No, I was thrown into a Lazarus Pit, and the evil waters cured the malnutrition-induced delay on my growth. Haven't aged a day since.”

“I just thought you had a weird babyface thing going on,” Tim said.

Jason's grin turned sardonic. “Quite the opposite, Timber.”

Dick put his head in his hands in some vain attempt to prevent his brain from leaking through his ears.  With his luck, his little brother would 'playfully' eat some of it. “There's no way you look this rugged at biologically sixteen! I refuse to believe that.”

“Can you imagine my power if I'd been allowed to reach my full potential?” Jason leered, eyebrows waggling like waves in a sea at storm. “So many heart attacks.”

Barbara and Cassandra exchanged a silent look, and, after a solemn nod, Cassandra reached up to slap Jason upside the head.

“Thank you, Cassandra,” Barbara told her. “Jason, never do such a thing again.”

The disgruntled groan that followed must have been on purpose, because Jay was indeed an asshole.

“Besides, it's not like the world will ever know,” Tim said, cutting, a smirk hiding by his hand.

Dick really thought his little brother was far too relaxed upon learning that Jason was one with the undead. Sure, they had all encountered various levels of zombies during their missions, from all sorts of oral traditions and cultures, alien viruses and hidden nanobots piloting meat puppets. It wasn't even classified as a nation-wide crisis to encounter free-roaming zombies. But since the chronically unalive individual in question was one of their own, Dick felt he was owed at least a whole evening of frazzled panic and incomprehension for once.

“Oh?” Stephanie instead asked, sensing blood.

Tim shrugged. “Well, you know, no pulse, no blood flow,” he said with an angled eyebrow nodding at Jason's crotch

Stunned silence followed, their expressions varying from disgust, horror, unholy glee and, from Jason himself, wide-eyed shock that his shrimp of a little brother had had the balls to assimilate the zombieness fast enough to mock him for him.

Dick prayed for patience. For fortitude. And for an alternate timeline where he was an only child.

Why, for all the love of cotton candy and professional uncriminal clowns, did Tim put THAT image of Jason inside their brains? What had he done, him, a loving model for all of society, to suffer like this?

Maybe if he asked nicely, Jason would eat the image out of his head. He owed Dick that much after this clusterfuck of a conversation.

“Ooooooooh,” Stephanie crooned, miming getting dunked on. With acrobatics.

Jason huffed. “Like I was ever interested in the first place. I ain't Dick.”

“Okay, no slut shaming or virgin shaming, in fact, no shaming at all, please. In this house, we accept all sexualities, but we don't give out raunchy details about any of it, I only have so much brain bleach.”

“Share?” Duke pleaded in a whisper.

Oh, I wish I could, you young innocent soul.

A few beeps turned their attention back to Barbara and the batcomputer. “Well, that's one long overdue update to Jason's files. Anyone else want to share their 'obvious' medical condition?”

“Excuse you, being dead is not a medical condition.”

“I will make you wish for the peace of the grave, Jason.”

Droplets dripped from nearby stalactites.

A few bats flew overhead.

Jason turned to them like nothing had been said.

“Right. That was fun. Best night of my month. Can't wait to tell the Outlaws.”

Dick resigned himself to a series of unflattering texts by the absolute dickheads that were his second family. He could already tell the messages would blow up his phone to the Moon. 'You didn't know your brother that came back from the dead is a zombie?!'

“Have mercy and wait tomorrow morning?”

That smile could have been great or terrible. “You're lucky I'm in a spectacularly good mood, Dick.”

He had lifted his leg over his bike's seat when Duke was struck by genuine worry.

“Wait. Does Bruce know?”

Jason barked out a laugh.

“Of course he does! God knows he's got some massive blind spots, but he's obsessive, paranoid and I find subcutaneous trackers on me every week. No way he didn't get the hint before now.”

But, as his gaze went over the rest of them, his good cheer dimmed, his grin slipping off his face as surely as a bit of decayed flesh.

“... Right?”

[fandom-writer642]

Street Rat Christmas

Summary: It’s (Y/n)’s first Christmas season with their new family but they don’t want to give up an old tradition. The problem? Jason and Selina are the only one’s in the family that have heard of the tradition, a Street Rat Christmas. The Batfamily, the Kent’s, and the Outlaws are going to be in for the culture shock of their lives as they find out why Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning are always so peaceful in the City of Demons, no matter the crimes that took place just before.

Note: Gender Neutral!Reader, Sweet and Friendly!Reader

Warning: Mention of Death

•••

Yet another sigh escaped from (Y/n)’s lips as they watched the snow gently fall to the ground through the window. The book that they were reading was abandoned in their lap as their (e/c) eyes watched the snowflakes shine and float down in the golden sunlight. Damian couldn’t help but frown at his sibling’s actions, he had been with his father for the past five years and he himself understood that Christmas was a time to be happy. Yet, he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that his normally happy sibling was depressed. Even Damian felt rather pleasant and calm during the two days the holiday was overly focused on.

“Is something the matter (L/n)? Typically you’re more chipper.”

“It’s just my first Christmas without my parents,” (Y/n) replied to him rather sadly. They were remembering how fun Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning always was for their family. Perhaps they could sneak out tonight and join the festivities? “It’s strange, we would be out preparing by now.”

Damian gave (Y/n) a rather quizzical look at that. He understood when they said that they would miss their parents, he couldn’t blame them. However, (Y/n) didn’t come from an amazing or rich family so the preparation note caught him off guard. (Y/n) could’ve been dubbed a street rat by many different people before Bruce had adopted them, and Damian was pretty sure that they had been called a street rat before. Hearing them say preparing was a strange thing, it wasn’t possible for their family since they couldn’t afford something big. Yet, it sounded like a yearly thing for his newest sibling to go through during the holiday season. (Y/n) shot him a smile before they left for their room, taking their book with them. Damian left the study shortly after (Y/n) had left and found himself at the enterance of the living room.

The room was lovely and had many decorations hung up around the room, making it look like the room had been part of a winter wonderland competition and the music in the background was a nice touch. Dick was sitting in an arm chair with Kori on his lap as the pair talked to Roy and Jason who sat on the closer end of the couch. Tim was talking to Kon and Lois on the other side of the couch while Cass talked quietly with Steph, Barbara, and Kate. Selina was sitting next to Bruce as he talked with Clark who had Jon at his side. The room was rather busy with chatter and far too loud for his tastes but he had learned to live with it at this point.

“Hey Damian!” Jon called out to his friend when he noticed him at the entryway. All conversation turn to a pivoting stop to the point that the sweet Christmas songs filled the air of the room. It was a known fact that Damian didn’t spend much time with his family on Christmas Eve until after lunch which was in two hours. “I was wondering where you were.”

Damian nodded his own greeting and understanding to his friend’s words. “I’m sure Jon. I’m however curious about something that doesn’t quite involve me but it does involve (L/n).”

That had caught the whole room’s attention. Everyone knew that (Y/n) was a helpful and sweet soul with little to absolutely no hurtful bone in their whole body.

“Is she alright?” Dick asked worriedly.

“Currently, I’m unaware. I’m well aware that it is their first Christmas without their family but they said something that peaked my interest.”

“What was it?”

“Well, they simply said that their family and themself would be out preparing for some sort of event at this point in time.”

Damian didn’t miss the look that Selina and Jason shared with the other, or the faint smiles on their lips. They had a look in their eyes that was similar if not identical to the one (Y/n) had held not that long ago.

“Preparing for what?” Tim asked curiously. His younger sibling tended to keep closer to Damian and Jason more than anyone else the family knew with the exception perhaps being Alfred.

Damian simply shook his head and kept himself from insulting the older boy, “I’m unaware. It simply peaked my interest because as we all know, (L/n) didn’t come from a very financially stable family. The way that they talked made it sound like an annual event.”

“A tradition on Christmas Eve? In Gotham?” Roy had almost laughed in disbelief. “That’s completely ridiculous. You said it yourself demon spawn, (Y/N) came from a pretty poor family, they don’t exactly have an overwhelming amount their family and them could do.

“No true,” Jason cut off before anyone could agree with his redhead friend. “I actually knew (Y/n) before she ever even met Bruce and moved in because of the festivities that take place on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. Most people call it a Street Rat Christmas but the official term is a Street Rat Holiday. To put it simply, it’s the only break any street rat or poor family tends to get throughout the whole year.”

Bruce leaned forward at the newly acquired information. To him it sounded just like a charity event that takes place on Christmas Eve and Christmas in the worker side of town. The man couldn’t help but feel surprised that he had never heard of such an event even though he lived in Gotham for so long.

“How much do you know about it?” Tim asked.

“A lot,” Jason replied with a simple shrug of his shoulders. “I still tend to go every Christmas Eve no matter what. I don’t count the years I was either dead or presumably dead but I still go, I don’t care if there is a mission, I go.”

“What happens?

“Peace,” Jason smiled slightly. “We should go tonight. You guys just can’t attack or snap at anyone, you have to enjoy yourselves.”

“Why on earth would we snap or attack?” Dick spoke in surprise.

Jason couldn’t stop the small snort or the smirk pulling on his face. “Villains attend the festivities as well. There was an arrangement made between the villains, people, and GCPD that as long as they didn’t harm or make any sort of threats to anyone for that night or the next morning that they could attend.”

“And people talk and interact with them?” Kate spoke up, looking rather stunned by the information.

Selina couldn’t help but nod in agreement, “indeed. I attended a few years back and (Y/n) was there with their family while talking to all sorts of people. They mostly talked to Riddler, Two-Face, and Penguin when it came to interacting with the villains but they did interact with every villain. That includes Joker. Their family was always active in helping set up the event.

Jon had perked up like a puppy dog before speeding out of the room and up the stairs before coming back with a rather flustered looking (Y/n) in his arms. Gently he set them down on the floor which caused them to let out a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t like they didn’t trust Jon, they did, but it was different when he came into their room, picked them up and rushed them down to the living room at super speed. They were still getting used to the whole “living with superheroes” thing as it had only been two months since they moved in.

“What is going on?” They questioned after a moment.

“Just talking about how a Street Rat Christmas functions,” Jason replied to his younger sibling.

No one could miss the way that (Y/n)’s eyes had lit up at the mention of the event. They seemed happier almost immediately at the reminder of the event.

“Oh! Can we go?” (Y/n) turned to Bruce with large kitten eyes that Selina most definitely approved of. “Pleeeeaaaassseee?”

Bruce chuckled at his child’s beg for approval. He already knew what his choice was going to be but first, “I want to know more about this event before I agree to anything.”

“Well, where did I leave off?” Selina wondered. The newest family addition sat on the floor near Bruce and Selina while dragging Damian down and over with them.

“Villains,” Kori reminded.

Selina snapped her fingers with a smile, “right!”

–––

The group had arrived at a large park filled with people and laughter. A giant tree stood tall in the middle of the park and was decorated with all sorts of different and even strange ordiments that were clearly brought or made by the people at the party. Damian could help but let a faint smile appear on his lips as his sibling dragged him toward the main party.

None of the secret heroes could miss the villains in the crowd that greeted the pair with an honest to god real smile. They even saw Joker gift (Y/n) with a very pretty box, the fact made them tense at the sight but for some reason Jason was calm about it. He was calm about seeing his murderer gift his little sibling with a box that could very easily hold a trigger bomb. It made no sense and yet that is how it played out. The young Wayne had opened the gift with a smile and found it to be a purple and green scarf, something that was clearly made with the help of the Riddler.

The family moved around and tried the different activities such as a snow man building contest (Tim and Dick got third place), a scavenger hunt (Damian, Jason, and (Y/n) had easily won that), dance battle to Christmas music (Selina joined forces with Ivy and they got fifth), create an ordiment to hang on the giant tree, ice Christmas cookies, drink hot cocoa, ice skating, a Christmas song karaoke challenge, and many more events. Homeless kids and families were given blankets and clothes as well as other supplies at the end of the night. At three minutes to midnight everyone had gathered around the tree and many were talking excitedly, the kids especially.

“We wish you a merry Christmas”

The Waynes were surprised when everyone began to sing in perfect harmony, the villains, Jason, (Y/N), Selina, and many others were leading the uncertain children and newcomers in the song. Jason had a young girl in his arms who was singing along with him while looking at the glowing tree.

“We wish you a merry Christmas/ We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

Dick, Kori, Roy, and Steph had joined in the singing as well but to their surprise so had Damian. It was much quieter than the others but still noticeable enough.

“Good tidings we bring to you and your kin/We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year”

As everyone sang Bruce had decided one thing, he was going to have to participate in a Street Rat Christmas every year until he died. His family had been happier than they have in ages while Selina, Jason, and (Y/n) all got to keep a familiar tradition close to them and have the time to remember those that they love and miss; they all did.

•••

Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you all have enjoyed this mini story and have a good holiday! I’m so sorry about lack of activity but I’ve been sooooo busy and a lot of things have been going on with my family so I’ve been stressed. Cya next time! I’m planning Batfamily x Reader x Miraculous Ladybug with Damianette in it, I’ve fallen into a hole and I can’t get out. That story will probably be a series but bare with me, I have little to know means to write as of recent do to issues.

[hood-ex]

This is a fic written for @ckbookish for the prompt: Teen Roy and Dick (gen preferred) get into a snafu (with good/trying Bruce)

In all of Roy’s 16 years of living, he’d never felt as skittish as he did now, and that included the time Ollie had watched him shoot at the annual archery competition back on the reservation. Ollie had at least eased Roy into conversation and made him feel more comfortable with a few jokes here and there until Roy was able to relax a little.

But now? Sitting in the back of Bruce Wayne’s souped-up sedan? Roy was as tense as his bowstring. Everything about this experience was bizarre to him. The fact that Bruce owned an early 2000s sedan was weird enough on its own but seeing Bruce sitting behind the wheel sans Batman suit made Roy feel like he was living in The Twilight Zone. How could Batman be sitting there in a baseball cap and jeans? How could he be using a stick-on-the-window GPS to guide him 20 miles outside of Gotham? How could he—how could he look so fucking normal? How? How was that a thing that was happening right now?

Dick wasn’t making this experience any easier for Roy to process. He was sitting in the passenger seat with his feet on the dash, singing along to “You’re Still the One” by Shania Twain. Seriously. That was happening right now. And Roy wouldn’t say Dick necessarily sounded good, but he didn’t sound half-bad either. He didn’t know if that made this whole situation worse or not.

The only thing he did know was that he was going to see a ton of awesome cars today. Classic cars to be precise. Beauties like the 1957 Chevy Bel Air or the 1964 Corvette.

Underneath his tense muscles, Roy was practically shaking in excitement to get to the car show. He’d been amped up about it ever since Dick had invited him to go about two weeks ago.

The invitation had come as a surprise. One that Roy had happily accepted. He didn’t always see eye to eye with Dick when they were working together with the Teen Titans, but if there was one thing that they shared in common outside of kicking ass, it was a love for cars and bikes. Sports cars, old clunkers, vintage Harley’s, hot rods—whatever. If it had an engine, they were all over it.

Bruce apparently had an appreciation for cars as well. The classics, at least. Dick had mentioned that Bruce had a whole collection of them at Wayne Manor. Roy had no doubt they were probably all shiny and pristine. Each one costing an arm and leg to restore to their former glory. Roy may or may not have been working on a way to invite himself over so he could take a look at all of them.

“I see the sign for Springville,” Dick shouted over the music.

A second later, the GPS started speaking, signaling for Bruce to get off at the exit. Roy turned his attention to the world outside his window. The straight line of the highway disappeared and was replaced by a country town that was lined with small farms and suburban neighborhoods. It bled into supermarkets, gas stations, and little boutiques. Roy scoped out some of the places to eat while they drove down the strip. He was itching for a burger and intended to weasel his way into getting one no matter what Bruce or Dick had to say about it.

Bruce parked in a gravel lot and they eagerly tumbled out of the car. A hot breeze blew through Roy’s hair when he stretched his arms above his head. He glanced around at the large parking lot that all the show cars were neatly lined up in. Some of the cars that he could see were old rust buckets that probably had a lot of original parts. The other ones—the ones Roy was itching to see—were the modified models that were shining with fresh paint and waxed hoods. Those cars seemed to be drawing in the most crowds. People were peeking their heads under the hoods to get a good look at all the modified parts. Roy couldn’t wait to see them for himself.

He followed after Bruce and Dick towards the ticket table at the entrance of the parking lot. He was somewhat relieved that Bruce wasn’t playing too hard into his ditzy public persona today. Not that it seemed like he really needed to. No one’s eyes lit up with recognition when Bruce asked for three tickets.

The dark-haired man wearing a Star City t-shirt passed Bruce three stickers. “Puts these on your shirts so you can come and go as you please,” he said.

Roy took his from Bruce and slapped it over his heart.

“You two stay in this area and don’t wander off without telling me,” Bruce said. The narrowed-eyed look he gave them strongly implied feelings of: or else there will be consequences. “Dick, keep your phone on you in case I call.”

“Where else would I keep it?” Dick grinned.

The corner of Bruce’s mouth started to lift until he glanced at Roy. The small flicker of amusement in his eyes was snuffed out and turned into something more serious. Roy couldn’t help but feel out of place like his presence was keeping Bruce from acting like himself. Whatever “himself” looked like. Bruce had always been a bit of a cold asshole anytime Roy had been around him. Even when Bruce talked to Dick, there was a barrier there that made their conversations seem strictly business. Some part of Roy had always wondered if Bruce was the same way with Dick at home. For Dick's sake, he sure hoped not.

“I’ll see you two later,” Bruce said, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking off like he wasn’t expecting a reply.

Roy decided to give him one anyway. “See ya!” he shouted with a wave. He turned towards Dick who was staring at him with a raised brow. “You ready to go or what?”

Dick’s eyes were bright and playful when he leaned into Roy’s space. “I’ve been ready. I’m waiting for you to lead me.”

Roy huffed out a laugh. “Sorry, granny. I didn’t realize that was my job.”

He gave the lot another quick look over before deciding on their first stop which happened to be a mustard yellow 1971 Plymouth Hemi GTX. It was a thing of beauty. Roy wanted to run his hands over it and name it Ronda.

“This is sick,” he said. He poked his head in the window to get a look at the black leather seats and skinny steering wheel. “How’d you like to drive around in this thing?”

“I’d drive it every day of my life,” Dick said. His mouth twisted into a smirk. “You can ride shotgun.”

Roy scoffed. “You must have a screw loose in that big brain of yours because I’m sure as hell not going to be the one riding shotgun.”

“You can have that Oldsmobile 88 over there,” Dick said, pointing to the car across from them that looked similar to a 1950s Buick. “This one here is all mine.”

“You want to go, Grayson?” Roy asked. He put up his fists and pretended to punch Dick’s arm repeatedly. Dick raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m not afraid to fight you over a 426 Hemi engine.”

Dick laid his hand over his heart. “I’m a lover not a fighter,” he deadpanned. “Wouldn’t be a fair fight.”

Roy shoved Dick’s shoulder playfully and Dick immediately shoved him back. “Excuses, excuses,” Roy said, flapping his hand. “I can show you a thing or two about fighting.”

“How about you show me another car instead,” Dick said, gesturing at the rows of muscle cars that surrounded them.

Roy wasn’t about to say no to that. He offered his arm for Dick to take. “Madame.”

Dick eyed the arm for a second before his nose scrunched in disgust. “I’m not touching that. Look at all that sweat gleaming off you, Harper. You look like a damn tarmac after a sheet of rain hit it.”

“Sorry we can’t all have perfect sweat glands like you, Grayson,” Roy sniped back good-naturedly.

They continued to bicker as they headed towards a sleek, black ’69 Firebird. The owner of the car was happy to talk to them about the modifications he’d made to the engine and the exterior. He was really nice about it and even gave them advice on how to get into more heavy-duty modification projects in the future. A lot of these car owners here were like that. Just genuinely nice people who were passionate about sharing their hobby. Roy felt like he’d learned a lot by the time they finished seeing most of the cars.

“Are you hungry? Because I’m starving,” Roy said. His gurgling stomach sounded off as if to prove it.

“I could eat,” Dick nodded. “You want to go grab something at one of the places around here?”

“What about Bruce?” Roy asked.

“He won’t want anything,” Dick said. “Alfred made cassoulet for dinner last night and Bruce has been dying to eat the leftovers for lunch.”

Roy’s brow scrunched in confusion. “No idea what cassoulet is but okay.”

“It’s an Italian dish,” Dick said. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Burgers,” Roy said without even having to think about it. “I saw a burger place down the street. Want to walk there?”

Dick hummed in thought for a second before shrugging. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go. I’ll text Bruce where we’re going.”

They walked out of the lot towards the main road. There weren’t any sidewalks here so they walked through the too-long grass, making sure to keep out of the road to the right of them. Their feet crunched with every step and Roy kept a close eye on where he was putting his foot down so he didn’t accidentally step on any stumps or holes.

They had to walk across a few people’s yards before they could cross the street towards the burger place. Roy was glancing at the cars driving by them to make sure they weren’t going to get hit when Dick came to an abrupt halt. Roy just barely stopped himself from walking straight into Dick’s back.

“What are you d—” he started to say before he heard deep, guttural barks heading their way.

His head snapped over towards the one-story house they were walking past. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a big shape bolting around the side of the house and making its way through the middle of the yard. It took Roy a second to process that it was a scruffy, yellow-colored dog charging towards them with its teeth bared in a snarl. Roy could see the murderous fury shining in its dark eyes the closer it got.

“Don’t run,” Dick commanded, immediately pushing himself in front of Roy like a damn shield.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Roy yelled, grabbing at the collar of Dick’s shirt and tugging him backward. “It’s going to kill us!”

Roy’s hard pounded faster when a growl that Bowser would have been proud of rumbled deep in the dog’s chest. It came to a stop a few feet away from Dick. In Roy’s mind, that was way too damn close.

“Go on!” he yelled, ripping his shoe off his foot and throwing it in front of the dog, hoping it would scare it away. “Get out of here!”

The bounce of the shoe against the grass sent the dog back into motion. Between one blink and the next, the dog was launching itself forward. Dick dodged to the left at the same time as Roy did. Roy’s heart skipped a beat when the heel of his socked foot slid on a patch of moist dirt.

“Shit!” he yelled, losing his footing.

Before Roy could crumble to the ground, Dick wrenched him back up by the arm in one fluid motion. Roy’s eyes went wide and he didn’t even have time to yell out a warning before the dog launched itself at Dick, sinking its teeth into the meat of Dick’s left forearm. Dick screamed. The force of the dog’s weight sent Dick stumbling back into Roy’s chest. Roy just barely managed to brace himself to keep them all from tumbling to the ground in a dogpile.

Dick punched at the dog with his free hand but the dog held tight.

“Let go!” Dick yelled. “You stupid piece of—Roy!”

Roy moved like there was a fire under his ass. He flew behind the dog, grabbing the scruff above the dog’s tail and lifting him off the ground. The dog’s jaw released around Dick’s arm and it swung its head around towards Roy. Sharp canines nearly pierced Roy’s skin before Roy used all his strength to toss the dog to the side like a sack of potatoes.

The dog had barely even hit the ground before Roy felt a sharp tug on his arm that sent him careening towards the street.

“Go!” Dick yelled.

Before Roy could figure out where exactly he was supposed to go, Dick’s hand clamped down on his arm like an iron band and yanked him across the street full of moving cars. Roy let Dick drag him forward as they dashed across the asphalt. Rocks and little pieces of gravel bit into Roy’s sock. He could barely feel them. His mind was too busy chanting, go-go-go-go-go!

A car honked at them when they darted in front of it. Roy only had a second to wonder if they were going to get run over before Dick put on a burst of speed that had them flying to safety on the other side of the street. Dick didn’t stop. He kept pushing Roy onwards back towards the direction they came from. His grip on Roy’s arm never loosened. Roy wondered if he would have bruises shaped like Dick’s fingers there later.

“I think we can stop,” he panted after they were well out of sight from the dog’s house. He couldn’t even hear barking anymore. “Come on, let’s stop.”

Roy intentionally slowed his pace to make Dick do the same. Their feet thundered against the ground for a few more steps before they both came to a still.

“Ah, fuck,” Dick hissed between his teeth.

Oh, right, the bite. Roy had nearly forgotten about it while playing real-life Frogger. Whatever he thought the bite was going to look like didn’t prepare him for what he actually saw.

Dick was dripping with blood. It looked like Jackson Pollock had used him as a canvas. There were flecks of blood on his pants and shoes. There was also a large blob of it from where he must have had his arm pressed against his chest when he was running. Some of it was even smeared on the side of his jaw.

The worst of it was pooled along his arm where the skin was split open in multiple places. Roy could literally see where the dog’s teeth had gouged inside. That shit would need stitches for sure.

“Man, he got you good,” Roy said, shaking his head in sympathy. “That was fucking crazy. I’ve never seen a dog go berserk like that.”

“I have,” Dick said but didn’t elaborate. Not that Roy really expected him to when he was probably still trying to process the fact that his arm had almost been ripped off. “We need to call Bruce to come pick us up.”

“Yeah, okay,” Roy said. “Let me help you.”

He slid Dick’s phone out of Dick’s pocket, and with a little instruction, he got past the code and dialed in Bruce’s number.

“Put it on speaker,” Dick said, and Roy hit the speakerphone button.

Roy felt like his heart was going to fall out of his ass while they waited for Bruce to pick up. He was going to get in so much trouble for this, especially since it was his fault that Dick got bit. He shouldn’t have thrown the stupid shoe. If he hadn’t thrown the shoe then maybe the dog would have backed off on its own. Maybe it would have gotten bored and let them leave. But Roy did throw the shoe, and Dick did get bitten because of it, so it was Roy’s fault. He deserved the tongue-lashing Bruce was going to give him.

“Dick?” Bruce’s voice crackled through the speaker. He sounded confused. “You’re not back from the burger place already, are you?”

“We never made it there,” Dick said. Roy’s hand tightened around the phone. “We were attacked by a dog.”

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked, and Roy was wholly unprepared for the worry behind his words.

“No, it bit my arm. I’ve got multiple lacerations that’ll need stitches.”

“What about Roy?”

“He lost his shoe,” Dick said. “He might have torn his foot up when we ran. We haven’t taken a look at it yet.”

Roy wiggled the foot in question. It stung a little but didn’t seem like there was anything wrong with it. He hoped the adrenaline wasn’t covering up something more serious.

“Are you still in danger?” Bruce asked. The sound of the car engine rumbled over the line.

“We’re safe now,” Dick said.

“Good. Stay right there. I’ll pick you up in a minute.”

“Got it. Bye.”

Roy disconnected the call.

“At least he didn’t sound mad,” he said, sliding the phone back into Dick’s pocket.

“Oh no, he was pissed,” Dick said matter-of-factly.

Roy felt like he was going to throw up. “He was?”

“No.”

Roy’s shoulders sagged as he exhaled in relief. “I fucking hate you.”

“You’re going to hate me even more when I tell you that he might make us watch a bunch of videos on how to handle a dog attack.”

“That… actually might be useful,” Roy admitted with a sheepish grin. Like hell was he going to fuck up another situation like that.

“He’ll like hearing that,” Dick said, eyes tracking something over Roy’s shoulder. “He’s here.”

Roy tensed and turned around right as Bruce pulled the car up beside them and parked it. There was something silently frantic in the way Bruce jerked the car door open and rounded towards them with quick steps. Blue eyes roamed over Dick, assessing his condition, before doing the same for Roy.

“Is that Dick’s blood on your clothes?” Bruce asked.

Roy blinked in confusion before looking down and realizing that there were a few speckles of blood on his shirt sleeve. It must have gotten on him when he was running.

“Yeah, it’s his,” Roy said.

Bruce’s mouth tightened into a worried frown when he looked down at Dick’s arm. It was weird to see him emoting with his whole face. Roy usually only got to see the lower half of his face emoting in the cowl.

“There’s a first aid kit in the trunk,” Bruce said to Roy. “Can you grab it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Roy said.

He wondered why Bruce couldn’t have grabbed it himself since he was the least injured party here, but while he was digging through the trunk for the red bag, he glanced up for a quick second and saw something he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to see.

Dick was standing close to Bruce, practically tucked into his side like he was trying to disappear. It was an oddly vulnerable pose that made him actually look like the 16-year-old he was instead of the adult he always tried to be. Bruce whispered something close to Dick’s ear and Dick nodded at whatever it was. It was then that Roy realized Bruce’s hand was rubbing small circles on Dick’s back, and Roy was pretty sure that was the most affection he’d ever seen Bruce give Dick. It was probably the most he’d ever seen Dick let himself be babied too.

It was strange in an unfamiliar way. Possibly even more strange than Bruce’s baseball cap. Okay, no, definitely stranger than that.

Did that mean that Bruce was actually a real person like the rest of them and not some otherworldly asshole in a batsuit? Was that something Roy was supposed to come to terms with now?

“Roy!” Bruce shouted, and Roy nearly brained himself on the trunk door when he jumped. “Where’s that first aid kit?”

Aaaand just like that, they were back on the asshole shtick. But maybe that was a good thing. Between Bruce’s casual fashion and show of affection, Roy was pretty sure he needed that sense of normalcy right now.

“Coming!”

He snatched the first aid kit and shoved it under his arm. This time when he ran, he was glad it was because Bruce was the one barking at him and not another dog. He would take an irritated Bruce Wayne over an irritated dog any day.

[battle-of-roses]

When Rome Burns : Part 1

TW : Logan Roy's A+ Parenting, Manipulative Logan

By @your-gay-cousin-clover

---

With a certain hint of trepidation, Tom starts dressing himself to meet up with Shiv in downtown New York. The plan was pretty simple for the day: meet up with Shiv, find a gift for her father, put on his best Midwest honourable fellow personality and charm the pants of all her family. He stopped for a moment in the middle of his bedroom, standing there in his white button up, boxers and black socks, biting his lip on whether to take the gold ring, he’d picked out a week ago, to the party. After all this time he had spent with her, ever since their whirlwind romance in Hong Kong, he was sure that she was the one for him. His soulmate, the-one-who-he-got, his loml. The question was of when?

The party would be a good place to propose. Lavish surroundings, her entire family, and a pretty pricey ring to show his commitment to her. All eggs in your basket, he’d say if- when she said yes. And it would all be fine and okay. He starts to daydream for a moment, his dreams flying higher than just becoming Logan Roy’s son-in-law, maybe he’d join in the business himself. He would swoop in, take over one of the main branches of Royco, maybe ATN and continue the family business until he had his own billionaire kids à la Shiv.

Beep! Beep!

His fantasies suddenly dashed down into the floor. He jerks and reaches to the phone on the table to receive the call. It’s Shiv.

“Hey honeybee,” he says in a sweet-syrupy tone that he hoped conveyed his affections accordingly.

“Where are you?”

He immediately frowns. Her tone is clipped sharp, a razor’s edge, threatening him to not speak a word off their usual script.

“I’m … ahh… just getting dressed. Oh, oh, how formal is the even supposed to be? Do you think I could sneak in a tartan tie pattern to impress your Dad?” He tries to detract from her irritation.

“The fuck, Tom? Don’t be silly. Just wear whatever you want, you’re not a pre-schooler. It’s a formal event, but don’t wear anything weird or embarrassing.” Her words just kick up a latent anger in him that he press down as per usual. It’s alright, maybe it’s her job that’s got her stressed.

He tries another jovial voice for a size. “Ok, love-,” he continues, but there’s no Shiv on the other side of the call. Just him and the dial tone mocking him.

Right.

Nothing weird or embarrassing.

He drops the ring into a drawer of his bedside table and shuts it close.

—

The day goes in its own pace and Shiv makes a hasty apology about her signal getting dropped in the elevator. He waves it off, he always goes. There’s no use holding on a grudge with his future-wife-to-be, on silly things like one too many passive aggressive words and brushed off endearments. And so, here he is now. Standing in the middle of an opulent penthouse living room, chatting pleasantries with Marcia, hands sweaty as he tightens his grasp on the gilded box with the watch.

It had been pretty expensive to purchase on his own. He and Shiv were comfortable, sure. But they - no, he wasn’t Olympus rich like the Roys, America’s number one conservative messiah. He hopes it’s enough. Enough for a job at ATN, enough for Shiv, above all, enough for Logan.

His fucking future hung on a balance because of a little ticking metal machine.

Ding!

There. The elevator’s number stuck still on their current floor and his breathing picks up. Everyone else collects around the door to waiting as the metal door open, but he stands back, alone. For a split second, he’s swallowed up in all the gold, gild and glamour around him and he simply can’t breathe.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of all this. No matter how brave, how much of a fucking asshole he pretends to be. He does not deserve to be here. He’s what? Got a few hundred thousand in his savings, while collectively in front of him stands the 3rd richest family in America. He just wants to bolt and never come back.

And in the same fleeting moment, the doubt hastily vaporises as Logan Roy himself steps into the view amidst loud yells of “Happy Birthday!”.

The moment he sees Logan, it’s something of oh, that echoes in his head. Like oh, he’s just an old man. And he indeed looks frazzled, startled by the sudden cheers. But he whispers something to Marcia, who takes his coat and hands it off to one of the numerous maids hurrying around the house.

And then he straightens up to face the crowd. There’s something in his eyes that makes Tom want to shrink back against the patterned wallpaper. Something fierce, something very calculating. He watches as Logan makes his way through the crowd of his children and nods absent-mindedly at everyone’s greetings.

“Shiv,” Logan says, turning to Shiv, his back to Tom “Where’s Wambsgans? I thought we invited him.”

Shiv’s expression falters for a second, perhaps debating whether her father’s joking or not. It’s clear, he’s not, when the beat of silence extends between them. She smiles back again, radiant. And gosh, Tom loves her so much.

“He’s behind you, Dad!”

Tom didn’t have much time to be mortified as Logan turned to him and stuck his hand out to shake. Awkwardly balancing his watch box on one hand, Tom tries to make grip firm and solid. Logan gives him two shakes and quickly removes his hand.

“Wambsgans, you’ve got a strong grip. Trying to break an old man’s hand, eh?”

Fuck. Of course, Logan Roy would be above all masculine handshaking bullshit that the Wall Street posers were really into. Logan knew he was the king of the world, didn’t need to prove it to any Tom-Dick-Harry on the street.

Logan’s already turning away from him, but Tom tries to swallow his foot down the throat trying not to make his first impression even worst. He lets out a laugh, but winces internally. Too braying, too harsh, too corny.

“Well, you’re not that weak, Mr Roy-“ He tries. He does. But Shiv already looks disappointed and Logan’s barely listening to him. His time to prove himself is running out.

Ding!

Everyone turns to look at the elevator again. Kendall Roy steps out the lift with his ex-wife and children in tow. He’s wearing that same black blue outfit combo, just like the one on Forbes, proudly declaring him as the HEIR WITH THE FLAIR. Tom has read Kendall’s entire wikipedia enough times to know that the stress marks and the lack of the photogenic smile was simply because of his age.

Drugs - Divorce - Demotion.

Yet like every American hero billionaire, Kendall got the second chance that could only be afforded to the rich and now, most probably, he was going to the Successor to the entire media conglomerate. Even then, Tom wouldn’t say that he exactly envies the other man.

“Ken!” Logan’s voice somehow sounds surprised as well as disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d come. Did we close the Vaulter deal?”

Kendall’s stance becomes a bit wooden as he reaches down to accept his father’s embrace. His ex turns to Marcia and hands off a wrapped box with a pleasant smile. The kids run off with Grace’s kid and Kendall stands there looking a bit unsettled as he answers “oh, no, no Dad. They’re still hammering out the details. I took a break to wish you on your birthday. Not sure how many more there might be.” The conversation mills a bit around the two, everyone leans in a bit to hear.

“You did?” Logan repeats with furrowed brows. “Well, where’s your cousin? I thought he’d rather come than you.”

Kendall looks taken aback for a moment. Everyone tries another round of conversation, but Tom simply nods along to other’s words as he tries to figure out information about the cousin. A cousin? Shiv’s never mentioned a cousin being involved in … well, anything.

“Greg?” Kendall asks, his voice uncertain. Logan looks him in the eye and shares a sardonic grin. “Yes, Greg. Unless Marianne happened to suddenly stop by. What’s he doing? Wasn’t he with you this morning?”

Kendall seems to shrink into himself under his father’s gaze. “Greg’s..” he starts and stops for a moment. “Greg’s with the team in the building. He wanted to finish the deal before joining the party.”

“Shame.” Logan says, “But good for him, as soon as we wrap up this deal the better. Anyway, kids, can I talk to you alone for a moment? I just want you to sign something.”

All of them exchange glances with each other, the meaning of which Tom is too novel to understand. All of them quietly follow in the steps of their father. The rest of them stare.

“So,” Marcia says, clapping her hands together. The sound echoes in the eerie silence devoid of birthday wishes. “Let’s get started on lunch shall we?”

—

On the way to the “game” which was highly requested in a cult-like chanting, Tom abruptly turns to Shiv and asks “I didn’t know you had cousin working at Waystar?”

She ceases typing on her phone and looks up with pinched brows, seemingly in thought. Tom watches the city go by in a blur from Shiv’s side of the window and waits. “

“Oh,” She says “You mean Greg? Yeah, he’s like my second cousin. Uncle Ewan’s only grandson, although I don’t think he’s seen them since he was ten? He’s chief strategist at Royco. You’ll see him soon enough when you join.”

A when, not an if. And immediately, Tom’s heart lifts. He fights a grin on his face and catches Shiv’s eye. She smiles a bit, the stress from her face falling away for a second and turns back to her phone.

All was well.

—

All was not well.

Tom kind of looks like an idiot. At least in his own head, he’s been lugging around the watch box the entire evening. Right now, he’s standing behind Logan and Shiv like an obedient puppy waiting for Shiv to call upon him. The rest of the family is setting up the baseball game while the groundskeepers looking on fascinated.

Tom pretty much feels like them.

“So, about Tom,” Shiv says and Logan seems to be considering her words. Tom’s ears pick up, his hands turn sweaty again and he fidgets with the box in his hands. He imagines he can hear the watch tick inside like a time bomb.

“Hmm…” Logan replies, peering out into the distance. Kendall’s already gone into the wind, about half-an-hour ago, his ear glued to the phone talking to “Greg”. Tom waits for that syllable to end and simply waits.

“What do you think about putting him under Greg?”

Despite the short distance between him and the duo, he hears an undercurrent of something sinister his way. Something almost amusingly cruel.

“Wh-why Greg? Isn’t that - like isn’t he already busy with the buyings and everything else? And surely you don’t expect Tom to be his assistant? He’s much more experienced in business.” Shiv’s protest add a bit of tension to his mind.

What was the deal with this Greg? It was almost as if he was some kind of a boogeyman to Shiv and her siblings. But someone that Logan clearly approved of, but there was something very odd about the whole missing cousin.

It was as if being put under the cousin would somehow be bad for him. Geez, was he some kind of a hardass?

“No, no. I’m sure Greg’s not to busy to welcome your boyfriend into the family business. He can help guide Tom and put him in a fitting department. Not to busy to help family.”

Tom expects Shiv to say something. To put off Logan’s plan and for a moment, she does. But instead, she stops and frowns.

A beat.

Tom takes it as his cue to step in with the box.

This better work.

—

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 4

Yesyesyes I’m super excited to share this one with you guys!! The game is finally beginning, ahhhh!!!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

First | Previous | Next

Chapter 4: Goddamn wimps, all of them

Marinette opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight. She stood in a huge village square filled with hundreds of people, the gaps between them growing smaller as more and more players appeared. The sun shone merrily, and an excited chatter began rising in the air. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It felt good to be back.

“Marinette!” She looked around to see Alya and Nino waving a few yards away. She broke into an excited smile and jogged over to meet them. They must have spawned in relative to their actual locations since Kagami, Luka, and the others from her class were already there.

“Hey guys!” Marinette said breathlessly. “Almost didn’t make it. Thanks for the call, Alya.”

The brunette gave her a quick hug. “Anytime, girl. Now you and Lila can show us the ropes!” She bounced excitedly.

Marinette barely caught herself from rolling her eyes and just nodded instead. Of course Lila would be able to help teach the others how to play. It definitely wouldn’t just be Marinette teaching everybody. Again.

Meanwhile, Max and Nathaniel were remarking on how realistic the textures of the cobbled streets were. Marinette did a double-take when she saw Adrien standing next to them. He had an immensely intricate and ornate suit of armor. There was an excess of spikes, ribbons flowing from every joint, and every inch of him was covered in metal. A tall helmet adorned with skull decals cast a shadow over his grinning face.

“What are you wearing?” She spluttered. He pointed a thumb to his chest with some difficulty, the thick metal creaking with the movement.

“This bad boy is the toughest armor in the game! I may have made a few embellishments of my own, so now I look even cooler.” He stated with pride.

Marinette shot a look at Luka, who wore a light set of simple leathers. He grimaced and shook his head, warning Marinette not to question their friend’s surprisingly atrocious taste in fashion. Or serious misunderstanding of armor weight classes.

“You know you could’ve picked any armor you want, right?” Adrien asked.

“Oh, I know. I crafted this set during beta testing!” Marinette spun around to show the boys, gladly welcoming the change in subject. She was dressed in a light suit of armor, the metal tinted a deep red. Black fabric peeked underneath the gaps, a strong yet flexible design of her own making. A simple grey cloak hung off her shoulders, concealing the quiver behind her back.

While Luka and Adrien complimented her brilliant design, she spotted Lila. She looked a little out of her element, hanging back to awkwardly watch a conversation between Kim, Alix, and Kagami, oddly enough. The three were dressed in heavy sets of armor, lamenting about how there weren’t any monsters to battle yet.

Chloe sauntered over to join them and, having heard how even Kagami was itching for a fight, wrinkled her nose. Marinette giggled to herself. This was going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

Jason’s eyes snapped open and he threw out an arm to steady himself. The transition from logging on was dizzying, but the sensation faded with every deep breath he took. He noted the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the air. Damn, even he had to admit this tech was impressive. Dick and Tim stood next to him, wearing blue and red-toned armor respectively. Tim was looking around wildly, grinning like an idiot.

“Timmy!” Cassie Sandsmark sprinted towards them to tackle her boyfriend in a hug. Oh great, looks like the rest of the kiddy patrol was here too. Looking to where Cassie had run from, Jason indeed saw various members of The Team. Connor looked just as nauseated as Jason had felt after joining. Roy stood next to him, unmoving as he stared down at his very realistic-looking hand. Ouch. Jason had to have some sympathy for the poor kid, not that he’d ever tell him that.

Bart and Garfield, on the other hand, appeared to be having the time of their lives. Bart got into a running stance and Garfield gleefully jumped into the air, both falling flat on their faces. Jason snorted as he watched Jaime help his boyfriend up. Jaime asked him, “Whoa there ese, what gives?”

Bart shook his head and muttered, “I don’t have my speed.”

Garfield furrowed his brow and strained his face. “You look like you’re either really constipated or trying to shift,” Artemis informed him.

Ignoring her, Garfield locked his panicked eyes with Connor’s. “I can’t shift either, SB.”

“Der kaolc ym nrut,” Zatanna intoned quietly. When nothing happened, she nervously said, “My magic doesn’t work either.”

Jason rolled his eyes. Goddamn wimps, all of them. “Looks like all you supers will have to stoop to our level.”

“Stay whelmed everyone,” Dick stepped in to mitigate half the group’s outrage. “It’s just a game, we don’t exactly need our other skills right now.”

Before they could say anything else, an enormous bell mounted in the center of the town square began to ring. A hush fell over the crowd. The sky darkened as red hexagons interlocked to create a massive dome around the town.

A tall being flickered to life in the air above them. The hooded figure floated high overhead, their face eerily concealed.

“Attention players,” the figure raised their hands. “I welcome you to my world.” Well that didn’t sound ominous, Jason thought to himself. He felt the mood from the others shift into high alert.

“You may call me the Game Master, and I am the only one in control of this world. You may have noticed that the logout button is missing from your main menu.” The figure paused dramatically. “I assure you, this is no defect in the game. It is all as I have designed it to be. You cannot log yourselves out, and no one outside the game will be able to remove you forcibly. If anyone tries to do so, a transmitter inside the VR headset will emit powerful microwaves into your brain that will end your life.” Shit, shit, shit. This was just supposed to be a dumb game he played to make Replacement shut up about it, what the hell?

“Of the 10,000 players, 215 have already died because their family or friends ignored this warning and attempted to remove their headsets. Media outlets have been reporting on this, so it is safe to assume the danger of your headsets being removed has passed.” This guy had to be joking. Though if he wasn’t, Babs would surely research everything within her power to try to remove them safely.

“One other feature of the game is that you are no longer able to revive players. If your HP drops to zero, your avatar will die and the headset will destroy your brain.” Jason’s eyes widened and his head whipped to Dick. He ran a hand through his hair, looking just as horrified as Jason felt.

“The only way for a player to return to the real world is to clear the game. You are currently on Floor 1, the lowest level of the castle. If you make it to the dungeon and defeat the level boss, you may progress to the next level. Defeat the final boss on Floor 100, and you will clear the game.” This motherfucker couldn’t be serious.

The game master, god what a pretentious prick, raised his hands and began to disappear once more. He said, “Good luck, players,” before disappearing entirely. The sky returned to its cheery blue.

 A beat of silence passed before someone started screaming. Then the thousands of players erupted into a cacophony of sound.

* * *

Marinette stood stockstill amidst the chaos. She felt more than heard masses of people panicking around her. Her eyes darted back and forth without truly seeing anything, mind racing to figure out a solution. If there was no way to safely remove the headset, then they’d have to beat the whole game. What about the Kwami? Could they connect with their miraculi? What about the small powers they’d each accumulated over the years? If those were accessible, then they might stand a chance, but god if they weren’t--

A hand on her arm made her snap her head to attention. It was Adrien, his jaw clenched tightly. She gripped his arm in return, the small reassurance barely that. Around her, the new Order looked to their leader for orders, direction. And behind them, her classmates....

Most were white in the face. Max had his hands clenched in his hair and was muttering to himself about the likelihood that the headsets actually could kill them. From the way he was shaking his head, she guessed it was a definite possibility. Lila looked like a cornered animal, twitchy and desperately looking for an escape. Even Kim and Alix wore uncharacteristically serious expressions.

“Well?” Chloe prompted Marinette. The latter took a deep breath. Better focus on solving the smaller problems first. “Your VIP package came with a house on the first floor, right?”

Chloe blinked in surprise. “Yeah, it did,” she replied uncertainly.

“Good.” Marinette whistled and gestured for the rest of her friends to gather around. “Listen up! We don’t know how everyone else is going to react, so it’s best for us to go somewhere safe to lie low for a while. I can teach everyone the gameplay, and we’ll do our best to help beat the game.”

She looked Alya and Nathanial in the eye, since their hands seemed to be shaking the most, and said with all the confidence of Ladybug, “Think of all the bullshit Hawkmoth’s put us through. We are not going to die here. That’s a promise.”

Marinette drew her bow and half-strung an arrow, holding it parallel to the ground. “Chloe has a house on the first level. Let’s go.” She nodded to Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, and Luka to establish a perimeter around the rest of the class as they moved. She exhaled a quiet, shaky breath and led the way out of the square.

The crowd did not part easily. People were sobbing, shouting, hyperventilating. They needed to get out fast before the shock wore off.

Someone stood in front of her. The poor soul was probably just as scared as they were. She put her bow back in her inventory, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible.

“Excuse me,” Marinette gave a little half-wave to get their attention. “May I please get through?”

“Oh, sorry,” He had a deep, male voice. One hand gestured to the direction she was headed as he stepped out of her path. “Go right ahead.” His hands weren’t shaking as the other crept towards his belt. Not good, not good.

A flash of silver was all the warning she got before Luka pulled her back. A knife collided with his hastily raised shield, shedding sparks as the assailant nearly dropped his weapon in surprise. Marinette dropped down to sweep her leg beneath Luka’s shield, knocking the man off his feet. He gave a shout of surprise as he went down, and Luka disarmed him in the confusion.

“Come on, move it!” Marinette shouted over her shoulder. She re-equipped her bow and surged forward, picking up the pace to get the hell out of there. Such a large group was an easy target, they had to get out of the open and fast. People were starting to react beyond their shock, and more of them were bound to get violent.

Her eyes scanned over the buildings in front of them. There. A momentary break in the throng of players allowed her to spot Slipcut Alley, a favorite shortcut of hers. It was only a few yards away. The alley was too narrow for anything but a single-file line, but it provided cover and was hidden by a spell that only other beta testers would know about. It was their best option.

She squared her shoulders and pushed through the last of the crowd. She turned to face her friends, who gathered around her as they too made it out into the small clearing. Chloe, Kagami, and Adrien were watching the crowd behind them, ready to defend against any other attacks.

Marinette put her bow away one more time and asked, “Do you trust me?”

Shaky nods and wide eyes. That would have to do.

“Then follow me,” she said, and walked straight through the wall before them.

* * *

“Our first step should be finding shelter for the night,” Dick said sharply. “We can figure out the rest tomorrow, but it’ll do us no good if we die tonight.” Tim nodded, ever the protégé.

“And just how do you suggest we do that?” Jason countered. He couldn’t help it if it came out a little accusatory. He did not sign up for a damn death trap.

It was Garfield who had the answer. “Well, in order to do anything, we need money. So we need to start killing some monsters!” He palmed his fist with a resounding smack. “And then we can see about an inn or something.”

Connor rubbed his chin. “That’s not a bad idea, kid.”

“Just tell me where to hit them,” Roy said in a low voice, sounding about as pissed as Jason felt.

“Let’s split into three teams. Alpha squad will be Artemis, Wally, Bart, and myself. Tim, Roy, Gar, and Connor will be Beta. Jason, you’re with Jaime, Cassie, and Zatanna for Gamma.” Great, Jason was the only non-super there. What a grand old time that’ll be.

He made to leave the square and disappear into the panicking crowd, but Dick held his arm. “Hey, I’m trusting you to keep them safe,” he kept his voice low. “It’s been a while since they fought without powers, so keep an eye on them.” He then turned to address the rest of the team. “Alpha will take north. Beta, go south and Gamma see what’s west. Meet back here at sunset. Alpha will secure lodging before engaging enemies.”

“What, no pep talk?” Wally elbowed Dick. The latter didn’t crack a smile as he said, “Just stay alive.”

Beside him, Garfield swallowed hard and said weakly, “Noted.”

Jason rolled his eyes and jerked his head in their assigned direction for the other three members of Gamma squad to come with him. He’d follow along as long as Dick made good plans, and Jason didn’t exactly have any better ideas for now.

He put on his very best I know exactly how to kill you and I’ll do it if you don’t get the hell out of my way face and lead the way out of the packed square. The crowd parted easily before him, and they were out on an open street within a matter of minutes.

”Where to first, ese?” Jaime asked, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Good question. Jason looked around for a map or something that could tell him the way out of the damn town. When he glanced back for a quick headcount and only counted two, he cursed and asked Cassie, “Where the hell is Z?”

She pointed at a nearby stall where the magician was chatting with the vendor. Zatanna waved to them, then sauntered back over to the rest of the team. “The shopkeeper says there’s a bridge further down this street and to the left that’ll take us west out of the town.”

Cassie frowned. “Was that a player with their own shop already? Man, we are behind.”

“Oh, no it was an AI.” Zatanna readily supplied. “An NPC?” She added on seeing the confusion on her companions’ faces. “Honestly, was I the only one to do research on this game before playing it?”

Jaime sheepishly scratched his head while Cassie squeaked, “Well....” Jason had to agree with them, he just did this to keep Replacement happy. And get Dick off his ass, the meddling prick.

Zatanna shook her head. “Look, AI stands for artificial intelligence, and NPC is a non-playable character. They’re computer-generated people, not actual players.”

Jason caught enough to surmise that these NPCs were created by the same maniac that locked them up in here. He crossed his arms and asked, “How the hell can we trust their word if they’re controlled by that fuckin’ game master freak?”

Cassie bit her lip and had the good sense to look concerned.  Zatanna just shrugged and said, “I guess we’ll just have to find out. We can try following their directions but stay cautious in case it’s a trap.”

“Fine,” Jason sighed. “Let’s go.” He was already resigned to the absolute stupidity of the situation anyway.

They made it to the end of the street without incident, and turned where the shopkeeper had directed them to. There was a bridge, spanning a merrily bubbling river, and open fields dotted with trees beyond it. Jason could smell the greenery and apple blossoms from here.

“Wait!” Jaime threw his arm out. He made a face, then sneezed. “Aw man,” he gave a tremendous sniff. “Can’t eben escabe allergies in a video gabe.”

Cassie laughed at her friend and slapped him on the back, which only made him sneeze again. Dumbasses, they didn’t have time for this. Jason rolled his eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time that day and walked up to the base of the bridge. He slowly, carefully stepped across and edged his way to the other side.

The other three followed suit, and upon joining him, Zatanna said cheerfully, “Seems like we can trust the NPCs!”

“For now,” Jason muttered, still not convinced. He turned his gaze to the rolling hills before him, warm breezes sending waves that shimmered through the knee-high grass. He didn’t see any monsters, but there had to be some... right?

He used two fingers to swipe the air in front of him, opening his inventory. At least he remembered that much from the tutorial. He equipped the crossbow he’d loaded in when he created his avatar. Damn, that night in the Batcave felt like it was a week ago.

Jason took a wary step forward, into the grass. “Fan out,” he directed the other three. He didn’t turn to watch as he heard them draw their own weapons and creep up to flank him.

A rustle in the grass ahead had him throw a clenched fist into the air to have the others hold their positions. He waited until the movement stilled, then crept forward a few more steps, careful to keep his footsteps silent. He was within feet of it now, whatever it was. He hoisted up his crossbow to brace it on his shoulder and trained it on the last place he’d spotted movement. There was a sharp inhale behind him, and then Jaime sneezed loudly.

The head of a wild boar whipped up and it lunged for Jason. “Shit!” he yelled. Damn kid and his perfect timing. Jason blindly jumped backward and fired a bolt at the same time. It met its target and the boar shattered into glittering dust that resembled pixels. In front of him, a notification popped up that 20 copper coins, the crossbow bolt he’d shot, and a boar tusk had been added to his inventory. Huh, that was surprisingly easy.

“Wow, that was so crash!” Cassie pumped her fists in the air. “This game is gonna be a piece of cake.”

“Not so fast,” Zatanna frowned. “Remember, this is only the first level. It’s bound to be easy. It’s only going to get harder from here.”

Jason turned around to face them. “And just because that little shit was easy to kill doesn’t mean they all will be on this level.” He noticed Jaime hanging back, looking embarrassed.

“Hey kid,” Jason jerked his chin at him. Jaime's head snapped up. “Do you want to try the next one or wait by the bridge until your allergies clear up?”

Jaime opened his mouth to respond but had to sneeze again. “I think I’ll just waid by the bridge. I’b really sorry guys.” He trekked back to where they’d come into the fields.

“And then there were three. Ladies first,” Jason mockingly bowed, gesturing to the open fields beyond where the boar had been. Zatanna smirked and Cassie stuck her tongue out at him, which he returned with a rude gesture.

[catxsnow]

W(H)INE T.D.

Summary: Tim learns that drinking wine leads to revealing secrets about you. 

Warning: Fluff, little-bitty angst, underage drinking 

A/N: I’d love to know what you guys think! I’ve written a few large fics before but never imagines and I wanna know if I’m actually decent at them lol

GIF is not mine

Word count: 3k

You knew that Tim loved you.

You knew that no matter how many times he forgot about your plans or didn't do the things you asked of him that he still loved you. No, he didn't forget, Tim had an excellent memory which had often times come in handy for yourself. It was the fact that his second life sometimes over took his life with you.

So, as much as you knew that Tim loved you, you also knew that he loved his job as Robin just a little bit more.

And you couldn't blame him. The moment that Tim found out that Bruce Wayne was Batman and wiggled his way into the life of a vigilante, you were right by his side. If Bruce wanted to adopt Tim, then he was going to have to take you in as well (though not legally). He seemed to enjoy your corny jokes and childish laugh.

You had become friends with Tim from an early age and hadn't left his side since. You were with him through the death of his mother and he was with you through the hardships of your own. Tim was never surprised to see you with a frown on your face after a fight with you parents. He knew that you had never gotten along with them and that they had the tendency to make your life miserable. So when he moved into the Wayne Manor, it was your little saving grace too.

Whenever nights were hard at home, you would show up to the manor, often times drenched in rain and tears streaming down your face. It was always Alfred that would answer the door and while you showered, he would ensure that the guest room you claimed as your own was ready for your night's sleep.

Tim would be waiting for you on your bed and the moment you laid eyes on him you would collapse into his always open arms. He had always been there for you and you appreciated him for that. Not to mention that you also realized that your feelings for him were more than just friendly.

It had been on and off for a little while. You and Tim were trying to decide if a relationship was right for the both of you or if you should just stick to friendship. After months of going back and forth, you finally had enough of the games and decided that you loved him, you needed him, and most importantly, you had him.

Dating Tim was the best thing that had happened to you. It gave you even more time away from your home and parents, and brought you closer to the Wayne family. The moment you started dating Tim, you would no longer sleep in the guest room, but rather his bed. Bruce and Alfred were both aware of this little switch even though you tried to keep it under wraps.

It started as only once or twice a week, and then the whole weekend, and the next thing you knew you had practically moved in with them. You were so close to being an adult and the lack of attention that your parents gave you meant that it was easy to spend your time there. Bruce didn't mind - but he did have a very serious, very awkward chat with the both of you.

The thing that Tim loved most about sharing a bed with you, was that every night that he went out as Robin, he knew that he had something to look forward to for coming home. He knew that he had someone worth fighting for to get home. You were the reason that no matter what trouble he got himself into, he would always find a way out of it.

However, some days, you felt as if Tim cared more about his vigilante status than your relationship status. You knew that this was important to him, you knew that saving people in Gotham was the greatest accomplishment of his, and you supported him through every step of the way.

It was why when you missed him, you would two mugs of whatever hot beverage you were feeling that night down to him in the cave and spend time with him while he worked. Sometimes, you would break into the wine cellar to pour the two of you a couple glasses of wine. Bruce said that you were too young to drink but Alfred always helped pick out a bottle so you kept doing it.

That night, it had been a long day for you and you could only assume Tim felt the same, so you had decided on wine rather than coffee. Tim was down in the cave and Bruce was working late at Wayne Enterprises. But, while you poured the two glasses, you were surprised to see Jason walk in.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, setting the bottle down. You didn't know Jason very well, but knew his story almost too well. Tim tried his best not to remind you of his brutal death and that could just as easily happen to him. You tried not to think about it, but knowing that Tim might not make it back home to you terrified you more than anything.

After Jason came back to life and settled in with Roy and Kori, he made very few appearances at the Manor. To be honest, you couldn't blame him. Being there had to have reminded him of what his life used to be like. He was a different person than he used to be, at least that was what Bruce would tell you and Tim.

"I need to talk to Bruce," Jason looked equally confused that you were drinking. As far as he was aware, you were underage, not that age ever stopped him when he was young. Jason glanced around, though the manor was huge, it didn't sound like anyone else was home. "Are you drinking? On a Thursday?"

"Yes," You answered simply, taking a sip of the gorgeous red alcohol. You slid the second glass over the counter to him, which he accepted. He wasn't much a wine drinker but he couldn't let someone younger than him drink without him. "Bruce isn't here, he's at the tower. Not that this is my home, but you're welcome to stay. I haven't seen you for a while, Jason."

Jason only nodded. When he first met you, he just assumed that you were some girl that was dragging on Tim's arm because of the money. He was wrong, very wrong. After learning that you had a similar childhood to his, he quickly realized that you were a fighter. Though he never took the time to talk to you, he assumed you couldn't be that bad.

After thinking for a moment, Jason sat on the stool across from you. You didn't think that he would stay, he was never one to waste time with conversations that he didn't deem necessary. But, you enjoyed his company. As much as Bruce detested how Jason handled situations, you didn’t find him too bad.

You asked him about his time with the Outlaws, to which he told you these grand stories of things he had gone through. You never agreed with his methods, but you understood why he felt the need to do them. Gotham was the kind of city that would break you in half if you didn't fight back.

He asked you how Tim was doing. You dived maybe a little too deep into your relationship with him and details that Jason didn't need to know about - and didn't ask for. But, he didn't seem to be bothered by it. As much as he wished that Tim wasn't Robin after what had happened to him, he was glad that you were there for him. Dick had Barbra, and Jason, well, he had no one to comfort him after hard nights out.

Nearly two bottles later, you were a little tipsy and had learned more about Jason than you had your entire life. He decided that it was time to get going and that talking to Bruce would have to be done another night. "If you ever need anything, don't be shy to call," Jason told you. Even though you were quite a few years younger than him, he found it easy to relate.

"You too, Jay," You told him. "Maybe stop by more often, I think Tim would like to see you more too." Jason made no promises and headed towards the door. He paused for a moment and looked back at you. 

“Tim’s lucky to have you. Keep him safe, yeah?” 

“Of course.” 

The moment you stood up from you chair, you felt a little bit dizzy and didn't realize you had drank so much. You shook the feeling off and carried the two glasses to the batcave.

Just as expected, Tim was still there, slaving over the computers. He heard you come in but didn't turn around from the screen. You set the two glasses down and wrapped your arms around him from behind. In the reflection of the screen, you could see the smile on his face. You pecked his cheek and then handed him the glass.

Tim still didn't turn away from the screen. He was far too engrossed into his research to give you the attention you so desired. So, you had taken the matter into your own hands. You set your own glass beside his and snaked under his arms so that you could completely wrap yourself around him while he sat in the chair.

You sat in his lap facing him with your legs dangling from the sides and your arms tightly snug around his waist. Without missing a beat, Tim straightened up so that you could snuggle into the crook of his neck. It wasn't the first time that you two sat like this and it surely wasn't going to be the last.

It was nearly twenty minutes that you stayed like that. Even in that cold cave, he always seemed to radiate heat and you were always there to soak it up. Tim loved when you were like this, just craving his touch and the utter need to be close to him even without talking to him.

When you looked up at him, the first thing he noticed were your flushed cheeks and glazy eyes. You had been drinking, not a lot, but enough that it made your face tinge pink. Tim didn't say anything but took a sip of his glass.

"Long night?" You asked.

"Better now that you're here," Tim admitted. He never said it, but he loved when you visited him while he worked. It made the time go by faster, even if most of the time you both worked in silence. "How many glasses have you had?"

"Jason stopped by," You answered. That in itself should have been sufficient enough for Tim to realize. Not to mention that Jason held his liquor way better than you, so while you were pretty tipsy he probably felt sober still. "I think he got me wine drunk so that he could talk about his feelings and assume I wouldn't blab to Bruce."

"What'd you guys talk about?" Tim asked.

"You," he raised an eyebrow. "About how much I love you, and the good things you do in this world and that no matter what I'm always going to be there for you even if sometimes I feel that you care about being Robin more than you care about me."

You didn't mean to say that. You kept your feelings hidden about him being Robin because you didn't want him to feel guilty for something that he was great at. You knew the moment the words left your mouth that it had taken him by surprise.

"(Y/N), you know that's not true," Tim set his glass down so that he could cup your face with both hands. You refused to meet his eye, worried about what he was going to say. "I'm Robin because I want to make this city a better place, I want to make if safe. Safe enough that one day we could have a family and not be worried about getting hurt."

You finally looked up into his eyes. They were filled with concern for you. "I love you, (Y/N). I have for a long time now and being Robin is never going to change that," Tim promised. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. "Why didn't you say this to me before?"

"Because I know you love this job, and I never wanted you to think that you had to choose it or me because that's not the case. I love that you're Robin and that you're brave enough to go fight that evil that lurks the streets. I just wonder sometimes that if I didn't practically live here if I would see you that often."

"I would make all the time in the world for you if that was what you wanted," Tim told you.

"You know that's not what I want," You answered him truthfully. You didn't want to take away this part of his life, never. "Just one normal night a week, even every two weeks is fine. Movies, pizza, wine, or whatever we're feeling for the night. I don't want to take away Robin from you, even if I could."

"That sounds perfect to me, my love," Tim kissed you once more. You guys had tried to maintain that once before but it didn't take long for the tradition to break and once a week turned into once a month, which gradually turned into a surprise maybe twice a year. This time was going to be different.

"Good, now come on," You dragged yourself away from him and instantly missed the warmth. "I'm already a bottle of wine in which means you need to catch up," you stuck your hand out for him to grab. He looked between you and the screen and nodded. Tim typed for a few seconds before grabbing your hand.

"You know Bruce doesn't like us drinking his wine," Tim reminded you as you walked hand in hand to the exit of the cave.

"It's not like he can't afford to replace them."

><

To no surprise, you woke up with a pounding headache. Once Tim agreed to leave the batcave, the two of you had drank for a long time after that. Besides the two bottle that you and Jason had gone through, you must have had another three, at least. Tim caught up and the two of you kept the liquor coming.

Tim was passed out beside you, he was stripped down to his boxers and splayed out with no blankets covering him. You on the other hand, only had his shirt to cover your body and all the blankets on the bed wrapped around you. He wasn't awake yet but you were sure that he was going to be in the same pain you were.

The small amount of light that shone through the blinds made you squint and if you could get up to close them the rest of the way, you would. Instead, you slowly tucked back away into the pillow and closed your eyes, hoping that the pain in your head would go away. It didn't.

You must have laid there for nearly and hour before you heard Tim groan. You rolled over to face him but he didn't say anything. You were right, the two of you had been the most hungover that you had been in your life. A wine hangover at that.  

It was rare, very rare, that either of you ever had more than just one or two drinks, never more than one or two whole bottles. So, this feeling that resided in your head, your stomach, you weren't used to and you sure as hell didn't like it either. Tim had to have been feeling the same way.

Neither of you were making it to school that day and you couldn't believe that you were willing to drink that much on a weekday. It wasn't like either of you to miss class - then again, one day of not going wasn't going to hurt.

"Tim?" you whined. He was awake, but didn't dare open his eyes. Tim let out a noise that you assumed meant that he was listening to you. "Let's not do that again." Once again, he only grunted to agree. Tim rolled towards you and you couldn't tell if it was to avoid the light or because he wanted to cuddle.

Either way, you didn't mind.

Your little amount of peace didn't last long when Bruce came knocking on your door. He saw all the empty bottle in the kitchen and had known that it must have been you too. Nearly six bottle between the two of you? There was no way that you drank all that much - which you hadn't. Jason helped too.

The two of you groaned at the noise and tried to block the sound out. Thankfully, Bruce left and didn't try again. Tim buried his head into your neck, leaving light kisses. If you weren't so hungover you would have enjoyed where that was going.

Not even ten minutes after Bruce left, he returned. This time he had barged right into the room - to which you weren't that shocked about. He did it quite often and you learned to never, ever, sleep without close on after the first mishap. Tim pulled the covers over top of both of your heads.

Bruce, on the other hand, was sitting on the desk chair, with none other than a glass of wine in his hand.

The moment that the pungent grape smell hit your nose, you knew that it was over. Your stomach started to turn and you swear that you nearly through up on the spot. Bruce knew exactly what he was doing and you knew that too. Without being able to control yourself, you leaned into the garbage can by Tim's bed and threw up.

"I told you not to drink my wine."

[corner-stories]

dead bean ghosts

Arrowfam. Flashfam.

Among Us Nights. Family Bonding. Cursing. Yelling.

983 words.

(ao3.)

The first official Arrow Clan vs. Flash Clan Game Night was going smoothly. With every player tuning in from different time-zones, the fact that both clans managed to play at all was a miracle in itself.

But five rounds into Among Us and Dinah still didn’t have a good grasp on the game.

So Mia sat beside her in the Star City brownstone, ignoring the unfair advantage of seeing someone else’s screen to better aid the city’s local screaming bird. Mia was playing on her laptop and Dinah attempted to play the game on her phone.

As Mia helped Dinah understand the tasks of the Skeld, the voice chat was alive and well. The rule that people not talk during the game was thrown out the window during round one — Roy and Wally were as chatty as old friends were and Bart was being Bart. Frankly, it was rather unreasonable to expect a group of Speedsters to stay quiet.

At least they got the memo to not give away the identity of the player who brutally murdered their little multi-colored sentient bean avatars.

Over the chat Wally was telling stories about their old Teen Titans days, little Irey West was expressing regrets over killing Jesse in the last round, Bart was dropping swear words like the gamer he was, and Roy was calmly reminding everyone that Lian was awake and watching cartoons in the next room.

Meanwhile, Dinah struggled to complete the most basic tasks. Mia had essentially been idle for the last few minutes trying to help Dinah out. Who knew that getting a card through a slot could be so vexing to the psyche?

“Just swipe it.”

“I am swiping it.”

“Swipe it slower.”

“I am swiping it slower.”

Dinah grumbled as she moved her finger across her tablet screen. She rarely ever felt her age, but tonight was pushing her.

“I am getting too old for this shit,” she muttered sourly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Mia assured. “So you’re ancient? So what? Who cares?”

The younger girl’s tone was calm as she spoke, but the second she looked to her laptop things got a little more… deafening.

“What the fuck!??! Who just killed me?!?”

“So much for dead people not speaking,” came Jesse's voice from the chat. Her words garnered a chuckle from the Speedster clan.

“And not cursing,” Roy added.

With a sigh, Mia simply maneuvered her now dead multi-colored avatar around the map, moving through walls like only dead bean ghosts could.

“Killing while AFK is a dick move,” she said as she completed the wire-connecting task. “Just saying.”

Dinah nudged her slightly. “What does AFK mean?”

“Away from keyboard,” Mia explained.

Dinah rolled her eyes. “You Zoomers and your made-up words.”

From the voice chat, the two heard Bart chuckling.

“See, Mia? This is why we don’t invite the old fogies to game night.”

While the Plucky Archer tried to suppress her laughter, Dinah glared at Mia’s laptop screen and the open voice server window.

“Excuse me, how old do you think I am?!”

Bart immediately stuttered, a rarity for the motor-mouth of the Flash Clan.

“Uh… I don’t think I should answer that.”

The entire voice server let out a chuckle while Dinah scoffed sharply.

“Good call, Kid.”

For a few more moments the group continued to play. Despite being dead, Mia found amusement in other aspects of the game — like Bart naming himself “Peen” and Roy pushing the “no cursing, Lian can hear” rule while swearing like a sailor at 80% of the tasks.

Despite the conversation, things were going a lot more smoothly than the last time Mia joined Bart for a game night. A few weeks ago she had hopped online for a Teen Titans Among Us session — the tumultuous evening had given her a full display of Rose Wilson utilizing every curse in the english language, Tim regretting the choice to clear his schedule to spend time with the rest of the team, and Bart singing the entire High School Musical 2 Soundtrack (for some reason.)

“Yo guys, I’m AFK,” Bart chimed in. “Quick pee break and I’ll be back.” The sound of his headphones hitting the desk could be heard before anyone could respond.

“Do Speedsters even need to call their bathroom breaks?” Roy wondered aloud.

Wally was quick to answer — “I can vouch and say that it’s very, very, very hard to piss at super speed.”

Through the voice chat the Arrow and the Bird could hear the other Speedsters murmuring in agreement, much to Mia’s amusement and Dinah’s chagrin.

“Thank you, Wally, we all needed to know that,” the older woman said dryly.

Soon a familiar three-note chime was heard and Mia’s body was finally reported in coms by Irey.

Fittingly, Roy started off the discussion with an accusation. “Jesse’s been sus the whole game.”

A scoff could be heard from the voice chat. “I’m doing my tasks, Harper,” Jesse claimed. “What about you?”

“So do we vote or skip?” asked Wally.

“I say we all just vote Bart to see how he reacts,” Mia suggested, and what followed was a collective shared mumble from the chat, one that seemed to agree with her words.

Even Dinah didn’t hesitate to cast her vote as she saw fit.

Soon the sound of Bart clamoring to his chair was heard.

“KK, I’m back,” he said casually. “Who are you guys…”

On everyone’s screens the animation of the votes tallying up was played, all of them collecting next to Bart’s icon.

There was a beat, then at the top of his lungs the younger Speedster screamed —

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING???

Mia grinned proudly as the animation of Bart’s sentient bean astronaut getting ejected played. As he floated lifelessly amongst the stars, Bart managed to get last word in —

“YOU PEOPLE HAVE MADE A MISTAAAAAAKEEEE!”

The entire voice chat erupted into laughter.

[sparkleofpizza]

The archer - Tim Drake x reader 7/?

A/n: I am back, finally. I can't believe how long it took for me to write this when it is mostly a filler part for what's coming next, but quarantine got me and I spent a very long time without feeling like writing, then I hurt my wrist and I couldn't type. But, hopefully, now I will be able to keep on writing again.

Requested: no

Warnings: smut mention 

Taglist: @isthataladybag @the-fandom-ness @takoyakkun @caswinchester2000 @malfoys-demigod @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @ijustwannabecanadian

Summary: Y/n Queen will be living in the Wayne Manor for a while, and Dick Grayson decided to be the cupid between her and his little brother Tim Drake

Word count: 2.9k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

The apartment was really quiet. In all honest, you don't think you've ever seen Oliver this quiet before, specially when you told him something important. Specially after you had ghosted him for nearly two days. You expected him to lecture you about safety, or to argue with you, not sit there, in silence.

You had asked him to come over to Tim's safe house, you didn't trust to have this kind of conversation with him at the manor - thinking you two would yell at each other. But there you were, sitting at the sofa, staring at your brother who sat across from you. The only sound present was the dishwasher working on the kitchen, Tim was out for patrol, so there was just the two of you there.

"Do you understand now, why I have to treat her like a villain?" Oliver asked, breaking the silence 

"Yes, but I don't think you should. It's mom, Oliver."

"And yet she wanted you to become an assassin!"

Yes, he was right, she wanted you to become an assassin. But there must be an explanation for all of this, your mom couldn't just have become one of the bad guys! That meant so many things in your life was a lie, and you weren't ready to face it. It was too much happening all at once. 

"I don't..." you shook your head "I don't want to give up on her just yet. Look how Emiko turned out?"

Oliver nodded, sighing in frustration.

"I know, y/n. But I don't want us to let our emotions get in the way if we have to stop her, we need to be prepared for the worst scenario."

Again, you knew he was right. You knew this was all too good to be truth, mom alive and hoping that everything would go back to the way it was, being a family.

You nodded your head, heaving a sight.

“So what are we going to do?”

“We’ll come up with a plan and we will get her, then after that, after... talking to her, we will decide what will happen.”

What a family reunion this is going to be.

“I can be the bait.” You suggested

Oliver glared at you and then at Dinah who had slightly moved her head in agreement.

“No. No one is being used as bait.”

You were all reunited at the batcave, Bruce had said you could use it for as long as you need and that they would help you with anything necessary.

Dinah, Emiko, Felicity and Diggle had came from Star City to discuss strategy and what to do from now on. Everyone staying at the manor, Bruce was really a nice guy, opening up his house to so many people.

You stared at Tim who was working on the batcomputer, sometimes stealing glances at you and smiling reassuringly at you. You wish he was sitting right beside you, but he had a big case to crack and you knew you could handle it with team Arrow. Still, it would be nice to have him by your side.

“Stop daydreaming about your boyfriend.” Emiko poked your side

You frowned at her “What makes you think I am daydreaming about him?”

“You were staring.”

You rolled your eyes at her “You were staring at Damian earlier too and I didn’t acuse you of daydreaming about him.”

Her face took different shades of red, glaring at you the way you knew your brother used when he was out on patrol. You smiled triumphantly at her as she scoffed and said it was bullshit. You giggled, throwing an arm over her shoulder and bringing her into a sided hug, one that she tried to fight but couldn’t because you knew she lacked this kind of affection from her mom, and she seeked that in you.

“So according to the data that Oliver managed to get, they will be in London this weekend.” Felicity informed, staring at the laptop in front of her

“Good.” Diggle nodded his head “We have some time to prepare, then.”

“We need to be at our best conditions, so this means no patrol while in town, we can’t risk it getting hurt before leaving.” Dinah said, giving Emiko a pointed look

“That’s not fair. You said I could patrol tonight!”

“Dinah is right. Beside, the bats got it covered, we should be worring about Star City.” Oliver shook his head “I called Roy and Arthemis, they said they will see what they can do to make sure the city is safe while we’re away.”

Soon, everyone started to leave the cave, allowing you, to finally go spend some time with your dear sweet boyfriend.

You stood behind him, watching whatever he was hacking into him. You lightly touched his shoulders, not to startle him, but you had a good idea that he already knew you were behind him.

“Haven’t you worked enough, already?” You asked, quietly not to disturb the calming silence

Tim sighted “Maybe. I do need to wake up early tomorrow, but I really not to finish this.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek “What do I need to do to make you go to bed and get some rest?”

“Sleep right next to me and cuddle?” He suggested, spinning around in the chair and caging you between his legs, hands pressed against his chest

“That sounds like a good deal.”

Tim nodded, smiling at you and stending up, still keeping you in his arms. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours.

“Let’s go to sleep.” He whispered, you nodded with your eyes closed, basking into his warm touch

He lead you out of the cave and into the manor. Keeping a hand at the small of your back, while he told you about the case he was working on and how Jason had been bugging him about it all day long.

“I swear I wanted to punch him.” He rambled, making you chuckle “Don’t laugh, I mean it.”

“I know you do, love.”

You pushed his barroom door open and stepped inside, turning on the lights. His room smelled faintly like coffee - probably because he thought it would be a good idea to get a coffee machine there, but it ended up with you and Alfred scolding him for being irresponsible.

Tim wandered to his closet with you trailing behind him, you grabbed a hoddie while he got sweatpants for him to sleep. You turned back to change your cloths into his hoddie.

“Is everything ok with you and Oliver?” He asked, entering the bathroom to brush his teeth

“Yes.” You sighted, grabbing the toothpaste “We are going to London this weekend.”

He nodded, brushing his teeth while he watched your expression on the mirror. You looked tired, and he knew you haven’t been sleeping well lately - you spent most of the nights together, while he was working on the computer you’d be lying in his bed, tossing and turning too much for someone who was having a good night sleep.

“I just want this to be over with as soon as possible.” You said after finishing brushing your teeth “But at the same time I don’t want it to be over because I am terrified of what I am going to face when I see my mom again.”

He nodded, kissing your temple.

“It’s going to be alright, pretty bird. You’re not alone in this.”

You smiled at him, clibing into bed right next to him. Tim pulled the covers on top of you both, and pulled you closer to his body, wrapping his arms around you.

“Try to get some sleep.” He kissed your forehead

“Goodnight, Timmy.” You mumbled

There was something about London that made you like the city quiete a lot. You haven been there so many times, only two. Once when you were still a child and your dad had a business meeting, he thought it would be a good idea to take with him, spend a couple more days than necessary. You enjoyed it a lot, it was one of your favorite memories with your dad. 

Now, there you were back in town, but this time to deal with your villain mom who you didn't even know was alive. Well, maybe London will lose its magic once you realize that from now on you will be thinking of this town as a place where your family fell apart. 

You watched Emiko and Damian discuss different types of blades and which occasion it was better to use them. You frowned. Weirds kids, why can't they talk about some cartoons or school? You hated the fact that they didn't acknowledge their childhood and instead acted like... this. 

A cold hand fell on top of yours. You turned around watching Tim smile at you, you smiled back, placing your head on his shoulder. 

"Is it weird that your first trip together is a mission with our family involved?" he questioned making you giggle

"Totally. But I don't think I would've even stepped a foot in the airport if it wasn't for you."

He kissed the top of your head.

"Do you want to go to your room?" he proposed, looking at Emiko and Damian on top of Damian's bed 

"Tim Drake are you trying to get me into bed?" you wiggled your eyebrows at him, a playful smile on your lips 

"To sleep, yes."

You nodded, standing up with him. You both didn't like very much room arrangements, you were sharing it with your sister and Tim was sharing it with Damian, but since both were busy in Tim's room, it wouldn't be weird if you both napped in yours.

You opened the bedroom door with your card key, letting it lock behind the both of you. You kicked your shoes off, unbuttoning your jeans to get rid of them, it would be very uncomfortable to sleep in them. 

"Uh, what you're doing?" Tim asked, you looked over your shoulder to see him with wide eyes trying not to look at you

You giggled "Taking off my clothes so I can put on more comfortable ones? What did you think I was doing, Timmy?"

He groaned at your teasing voice and smile. Yes, of course you would tease him. You both have been a this weird teasing make out sessions mood ever since the day at the bar, but it haven't gone far than that because there was always something to interrupt them. And yes, it was killing him that all he wanted to do was to be with you and you kept teasing him, so of course, he teased you back, it was a restless war that you both couldn't wait to be over.

"Maybe going to take a nice and hot shower..." he trailed off, pulling at his sweater until it was lying on the floor, you stared at his chest then slowly your eyes were back at his face "But comfortable clothes sound very nice."

You frowned at him, he didn't have any clothes at your bedroom right now because you two weren't sharing it. Then a devious idea popped into your mind.

You took of your shirt, and then your bra, leaving yourself in just your panties. You went down to the floor, grabbing the sweater Tim had left fall there, not breaking eye contact as you put on his clothes. You watched him gulp as he stared at your body covered in his sweater. 

You grinned at him, flopping yourself on top of the bed, patting the place next to you.

"Aren't you going to take a nap with me?"

Tim took a deep breath before lowering himself to the mattress and laying beside you. You moved yourself closer to his body, letting him drop his arm over your waist as you placed a hand on top of his chest.

"Now, this is nice."

You closed your eyes, enjoining your boyfriend's warmth, embracing the tiredness.

Now that you ara finally in London, the moment you're going to have to face your mom is closer than ever. You could still remember all of the memories you had with her, not believing that the same loving woman who had raised you until her last days was the same one that was part of such a bad and horrible organization, that she had did all that Talia had told you. You just couldn't wrap your mind around it.

What are you going to actually do when you see her? Talk? Hug? Yell? You had to be prepared, you couldn't just stand still staring at her. You're going to have a plan of action, you're going to have to be ready for this dreadful moment. 

Oh, but how you wish Oliver is wrong and that his is mom. 

You lifted your head from the pillow, watching Tim who had his eyes closed, but you knew weren't asleep.

"Why aren't you sleeping yet?" he asked you once he felt you shifting around, still not opening his eyes 

"My mind won't shut up." you complained, letting your head fall back into the pillow, sighing heavily 

He chuckled "Welcome to my world, pretty bird, this is way I always stay later than I should."

"Maybe we're spending too much time together." you joked 

He squeezed your waist making you squeak.

"Tired of me already?"

"Never." you shook your head, laughing 

You stared at Tim. He, now, had his eyes open and was looking at you. He looked so beautiful, with sleep clouding him and the soft smile he was giving you right now. You are so luck to be the one lying in this bed, with his arms around you. You couldn't imagine sharing a moment like this with anyone else but him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked quietly 

You smiled "Just thinking about how cute you look when you're all soft and ready to sleep."

He leaned him, allowing his lips to touch yours briefly, in a sweet kiss. You touched his hair, tangling your fingers in it, it was so soft and you loved to put your hands there because you knew he enjoyed it too. He brought you in closer by the arm around your waist, pressing your chest together.

Soon enough, you were straddling his hips, full on make out session. Hands everywhere, touching every ounce of skin possible, shivers running down your spine every time Tim squeezed some part of you. Breath moans leaving your lips when he kissed down your neck. 

And then, someone opened the bedroom door. Tim pushed you off of him, nearly knocking you out of bed, but luckily you found a way to stabilize yourself.  He tried to cover his naked chest only to realize that you had stolen his sweater and that your clothes were scattered across the room, having fallen out of their original place on top of bed. This did not look good.

Emiko and Damian stood on the door, staring at the both of you. Cheeks flushed and mouths hung open. 

"Oh my God." your sister muttered "I'm sorry, we didn't meant to..."

"What are you apologizing for? They are the ones who should be sorry." Damian frowned "We are here on a serious mission and you two are trying to get at each other like desperate beings, we do not need any more Drakes in the world."

You thought you couldn't feel more embarrassed than right now. You couldn't even look them in the eyes, this is so so bad. And the fact that Damian thought you and Tim were trying to have babies? Oh God, you cannot deal with this right now. 

"We are going to order some... food." Emiko said, scowling backing away into the hallway "If you guys are hungry..." 

She closed the door behind her, leaving you and Tim alone and in completely weird silence. 

You kept staring at the closed door, still not believing your sister and Tim's brother had walked into you two making out on bed. This is so embarrassing, and frustrating. 

"You don't think they are going to tell Oliver, do you?" Your boyfriend broke the silence, making you turn your head to look at him 

"Hopefully not." you slid out of bed "I'm going to take a shower so I can try to forget that our siblings could've seen us naked doing something they shouldn't see us doing."

You grabbed some clothes out of your suitcase and headed towards the bathroom. Tim stayed laying in bed, watching you.

"It could've been worse." he said as you were about to close the door "It could've been Jason, Dick or Roy. Think about how much teasing we would have to go trough."

You wined just thinking about it. Hopefully, both Damian and Emiko would keep their mouths shut and this all could be avoided. The last thing you needed was to be teased by something that didn't even happen yet.

After you left the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to actually try to get some sleep or even go to Damian’s room and eat dinner with them. You opened the door to the bathroom, finding an empty spot in bed where Tim had been previously. You looked around the room, finding Emiko getting her suit out of her suitcase.

“We have to go.” She said, putting her suit in a hand backpack “They’re on the move.”