#Best Chinese Kitchen Hood

[prokitchendeals]

Ultimate Guide To Finding The Best Range Hoods For Chinese Cooking

A range hood is a vital kitchen appliance that helps to remove smoke, steam, and odors from the air while cooking. Chinese cooking often involves high heat and lots of steam, so a good range hood is essential for keeping your kitchen air fresh and free of grease and grime.

There are two main types of range hoods: ducted and ductless. Ducted Best Chinese Kitchen Hood are connected to an external venting system that directs fumes outside of your home. Ductless range hoods have an internal fan that filters and recirculates air back into your kitchen.

When choosing a range hood for your Chinese cooking needs, it’s important to consider the size of your stovetop and the power of the fan. For example, if you have a wok burner or other high-heat cooking surface, you’ll need a range hood with at least 350 CFM (cubic feet per minute) of suction power.

In addition to removing smoke and odors, range hoods can also help to keep your kitchen cooler by circulating fresh air. This is especially important in hot summer months when cooking with high heat can make your kitchen feel like an oven.

So whether you’re looking to improve the air quality in your kitchen or simply want to keep cool while cooking up a storm, investing in a good range hood is a wise decision.

[st0rm3tv]

JASON TODD didn't want a dog. He lived in an apartment with you, with one bedroom, a tiny kitchen and a living room that looked like the furniture decorated in it would fall apart at any moment.

But one day, he comes home to you, sleeping in your bed with a little bull mastiff puppy on his side of the bed. He stares at the dog for a few moments, before going to take off his Red Hood outfit, as though that would make the situation disappear. When he comes back, the dog was still there. Of course.

Gently, Jason shakes you awake, giving you a pointed look. "Got anything you want to share with me, babe?" He asks, eyes trailing down to the dog, still asleep on the bed. A sheepish smile crosses your face. "I can explain?" You say, though it comes out more like a question. "I was volunteering at the animal shelter and found him. He didn't like being with the other dogs in cage but they didn't have enough space to isolate him." "So you thought the best plan was to bring home a dog that can grow to be 150 pounds?" I scoffs lightly. "No, no! I'm fostering him. Just for a little bit," You say quickly. "I thought since he's still a puppy he would be adopted quickly, right? So we won't have to make space for when he gets that big." Jason lets out a soft sigh and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before speaking again. "You're too good," He murmurs softly. You smile up at him and return the kiss onto his cheek. After a few moments, Jason clears his throat and looks down at the puppy, still sprawled out onto his side of the bed. "So where am I going to sleep?" ... JASON TODD sucks at being a foster. He's terrible, horrible, even. If you were to look up 'How to not foster a dog', they would just show his face. It wasn't that he neglected the dog. He could never. He took him out on runs, fed him good food, washed him, played with him. Everything a dog owner could do. No, the reason Jason was so bad was because his first ever foster dog turned out to be a foster failure. Every time someone came by interested in adopting the puppy, Jason would be in your ear, whispering to you that it didn't seem like they knew what they were doing, or that the puppy wouldn't like living with them. Every. Single. Time.

It wasn't till the three month mark of fostering the pup, having moved to a more spacious apartment, that Jason popped the question.

"You know," He starts suddenly while the two of you were on the couch, eating Chinese take out with the dog resting on the floor nearby. "No one here seems to be right for Buster." Buster, his name for the dog. He's used it so much he actually started responding to it. "There's someone, I'm sure," You counter, taking a bite of your food. "I know there is," Jason counters. Just as you open your mouth to tell him that makes no sense, he cuts you off. "Us. We're right for Buster." "Think," He says, reaching out to grip your hand. "For three months, we've had him, we've moved with him. He has his spot in the bed, we've worked him into our schedule. He's happy. Why ruin that?" "So you want to adopt him?" You ask, making sure you understood just exactly what he was saying. It felt too good to be true. "Yeah, I do," He says with a small smile. As soon as he finishes speaking you practically lung at him, tackling him into a hug while whispering small 'thank you's. The action makes Buster jump up and want to join in on whatever is going on, leaping onto the couch and sniffing at the two of you, his massive head bumping you both. In that moment, Jason knew he made the right choice. This felt right. It felt good. It felt like home. You, him, and your giant dog.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Can I be greedy and ask how dinner went?

Surprisingly, there aren't a lot of questions when everyone shows up for dinner.

"Lenny's my date," she tells the assembled group. "We're dating, and I invited him and his daughter for dinner."

It's an accepted answer. One that her father seems strangely thrilled by, as he drags Lenny into the living room to talk after the candles are list and the prayers are said. Kitty follows them, and Midge rushes after her, just in time for Abe to say "No children right now."

"I appreciate that you want to talk, but I haven't seen my kid in a while, so she gets to stay," Lenny says firmly.

Abe looks a little stunned by that, but doesn't protest.

"You're dating him, when did that happen?" Rose asks as they help Zelda prep the food for dinner.

"This morning," Midge informs her. "We've been kind of...dancing around things for a little while and this morning we decided to make it official."

"Thank god," Mei says as she walks in. She's just starting to show now, her baby belly tiny and cute. "I was starting to worry that with you single Joel was going to cut and run."

"Even if I was, that's over," Midge tells her with a grin.

"His daughter is cute," Rose comments, ignoring the conversation.

"Ethan's age, and very sweet," Midge tells them. "Her mother was apparently uninterested in hosting her for Christmas this year, so she tossed her on a train at two in the morning to come to Lenny."

"That's what he gets for marrying a gentile," Shirley comments as she steps into the kitchen, freezing as she looks at Mei. "No offense. You're different. You're Chinese."

"Okay," Mei sighs.

Midge gives her a sympathetic look. It's tough to deal with Shirley when you can't drink.

Astrid, however, can, and takes a long swallow from her wine glass. "I think it's great that you've found someone, Midge. He's handsome."

"Ugh," Susie grunts as she watches them all from the kitchen table. "He is not."

"Very handsome," Midge argues.

"Seen him naked yet?" Shirley asks conspiratorially.

"Shirley!" Rose scolds.

"Oh, please, Rose, with Miriam's looks and her entertainment career-"

"Still not a stripper," Midge interjects.

"Of course she's checked under the hood, if you know what I mean," Shirley finishes.

"I can confirm that everything 'under the hood' is in order," Midge says quickly. "Let's talk about something else!"

"Food ready?" Joel asks, leaning in. "Lenny, Noah and Abe won't stop talking about the Supreme Court."

"What's Moishe doing?" Midge asks.

"Fleecing the kids for their candy at dreidel," Joel tells her.

"Every zeyde's solemn duty," Midge jokes. "It'll be ready in a minute."

"Miriam's new man is handsome, isn't he handsome, Joely?" Shirley asks.

"No," Susie snaps.

Joel rolls his eyes. "I still don't see why they had to come to dinner."

"My ex-son-in-law was allowed to bring his pregnant girlfriend," Rose says, staring at Joel, unimpressed. "Is there some reason my daughter shouldn't be allowed to invite a date to dinner at her own home that you don't live in anymore because you left her?"

Of all the people Midge expected to start trouble at a family dinner, her mother was probably the last person.

"Joel, we made a deal. You behave tonight, you yell at me tomorrow," she says.

"Joel will do no such thing," Rose says quickly. "There will be no yelling at my daughter. Particularly not by you. If I find out you've harassed Miriam in any way-"

"Mama-"

"Rose is right, Joel," Shirley says sternly. "You leave Miriam alone and you focus on Mei. She is pregnant with your baby, and if Ethan was anything to go by, she's going to get so enormous, you'll have to help her to the bathroom."

"Did I block that out?" Midge asks, confused.

"Yes," Joel snaps. "Look, Rose, Ma. I just want what's best for Midge."

"No you don't," Astrid says simply.

"Hey!"

"You don't, you want what's best for you," Astrid goes on.

"Shiksa number one isn't wrong," Susie chimes in.

"Joel, just - don't worry about Midge and Lenny," Mei says. "They seem fine, and if something happens, we'll all deal with it then."

Susie nods. "You should listen to shiksa number two."

"Susie!" Midge cries, whirling around to glare at her.

"What?! Calling it like I see it!"

"Why is she here?" Joel asks, gesturing towards the short woman at the table.

"She asked to come, she wanted dinner," Midge shrugs. "And I make too much every year anyway."

Joel opens his mouth to argue, but Mei settles a hand over his mouth.

"No."

He muffles out a protest.

"No," she repeats. "Go away. Go back to where the men are. Maybe they've moved onto a different topic."

Joel rolls his eyes and leaves.

Midge blows out a breath. "Thanks."

"For real though, Lenny Bruce is kind of notorious," Mei says. "You should be careful."

Midge nods. "I am."

"Then I have nothing else to say except lord love a tall man," Mei tells her.

Midge laughs and gets back to work.

[zwazowash]

Together, let's elevate your restaurant's cleanliness and safety with our best-in-class kitchen exhaust hood cleaning services, ensuring NFPA 96 compliance and a spotless environment. We empower you to reach your full potential!

#Kitchen #restaurant #hood #Exhaust #NFPA96 #grease #Chinese #Asian #African #Italian #indian #pizza #driveway #plant #window #Sidewalk #Cleaning #Dumpster #zwazowash #grime #pennsylvania #Lehighvalley #Northampton #Allentown

[teacupcollector]

Rebel - Chapter 12

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist Summary-  (Y/N) Is a Matt Murdocks 14 year old daughter who is just entering high school and is really struggling. She doesn't have a regular life having a blind father. He can't help with homework, Can't give her a have a ride to school, He can't see how often her face falls when she lies to him. Of course she has her Uncle Foggy and Aunt Karen but (Y/N) feels like to much of a burden until the one and only Frank Castle comes into her life and seems to be more of a father figure  then Matt ever has.

When Karen opens her door she smiles and says "Oh good you are here!" You look past her to see Frank and your eyes widen. His face matches yours and looks at Karen. "You said it was urgent are you okay? Why is the kid here?" He asks as Karen shuts the door behind you both. "It was urgent..." She begins as she slides her flats off.

 "... I thought it would be a good idea to get some take out and talk for a bit. You give a looks of disbelief and Frank starts pacing and says. " Jesus Karen I am still being hunted like a dog and you wanted to invite me to do some tea party?" He says irritated and pauses and looks at you. "Did you plan this?" He asks and you give him a 'Da fuck' Look. "No why would I plan this? Just because you gave me your number doesn't mean I will be your best friend... Plus being recently out of jail not legally might I add is weird." Frank gives a shocked look and almost in amusement but it was cut short by a knock on the door and Frank makes a mad dash to the bathroom to hide.

Karen pays and brings in the food and sets it on the kitchen counter. "You can come out now!" Karen calls out as she sets out the food which is now reveled to be Chinese food. Frank storms out and says "Karen now is not the time I need to leave." He says starting to  head for the door pulling up his hood but she gets in front of him. "No you sit, we are eating if you like it or not! Sit down." She gives a harsh glare and he sighs and pulls his hood down and walks over to the food and everyone grabs their portion and sits on the couch. Everyone is silent and Karen nudges Frank with her elbow and he glare but she motions to you. "So uh... Kid how is your injuries healing?" You shrug and say "They are fine... But everyone treats me like I am made of glass and Karen seems to understand that I don't need to be treated that way." Karen nods and Frank keeps a neutral look. "My dad and uncle won't let me out of their sight and my friends are ignoring me..." You grumble and stab at your food. "I'm sorry (Y/N). It will get better..." Karen says and sighs. "Oh wait want to see what I got!" Karen exclaims as she sets her food and goes over to her closet. "She can be very scary..." You say and Franks lips twitch into a smirk as Karen returns with a guitar case. "I found this in the dumpster and it is in great condition! You always said you wanted to learn how to play right (Y/N)?" You nod "Yeah but no one can teach me..." Karen immediately looks at Frank. "You play right Frank!" She says shoving the case into his hands. "What? I-" He gets cut off by Karen "Teach her to play! Go ahead do it!" Both you and Frank look uncomfortable but the look in Karen's eyes says it isn't a suggestion. He opens the case and strums the strings and begins to tune it.

An hour has past and everyone is enjoying themselves and laughing. At this point you know how to play a few cords. "Keep practicing you are doing good kid." Frank chuckles and you whine " My fingers hurt" which makes Karen laugh and Frank says "Your fingers will get callouses and it won't hurt to much." You pout and look down as you start again. Karen notices how Frank looks at you. His eyes show that he misses this kind of interaction, they show hurt, and she just smiles. "I have to go Karen." He says standing up.  You look up at him and smile "Thank you Frank." You nod and Karen gives him a pat on the back. "It was nice seeing you Frank." She says and guides him to the door. He leaves and waves and she shuts the door. "That was fun!" Karen says smiling as she starts cleaning up. You nod in agreement "Yeah it was nice..." Karen pauses at your tone. “What's wrong hon?" She asks and you sigh. "That was the most fun I have had in a long time and I don't know how to feel right now... My dad treats me like a porcelain doll and it pisses me off." Karen nods and puts down what she was cleaning and moves to your side and hugs you. "I'm sorry (Y/N)... You have been very independent and this is a massive change for you. Maybe you need to voice your concerns but for now how about you play a little bit while I clean." She says smiling. You nod and begin playing the chords you have recently learned.

A/N: Hey I know I have been slow with updating this story and I apologize. I really have no excuse but I will try my best

[kyberphilosopher]

Cerise

Those are people who died, died Those are people who died, died They were all my friends and just died.

Word Count: 5736 Warnings: Crime, Weapons, Mentioned Murder of a R/pist, Crude humor.

Jason’s friend and roommate, another Gotham villain, is ordered to return to Task Force X.

ce·rise/səˈrēs,səˈrēz/ [noun] a bright or deep red color.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Let’s open up our story on a colorful note: Fuck Amanda Waller. 

Nobody likes her. You don’t like her. Jason doesn’t like her. None of the characters in this story like her. Arguably, none of the characters in your present universe like her, either. There’s a reason why people call her “The Wall”. It’s because that’s what it’s like talking to her. And that’s what it would be like trying to deny the request she’d passed on to you in her letter. 

It weighed on your mind briefly as you walk up the stairs of your apartment building. By the third flight, the weight’s pretty much disappeared. Sure, there’s anger at Waller for violating your agreement, but it’s so useless being annoyed with her that it washes away fast. So by the fourth flight, the whole thing is settled in your head to completion. You’ll go back to your Suicide Squad- or a Suicide Squad, considering most people Waller selects are idiots. Then you’ll do the job, and walk away bing, bang, boom. 

You tip your head politely as if in salute to the older woman, Mallorca, who occupies the apartment across from you. She returns a warm smile that raises her prominent and wrinkled jowls, igniting the fire in her warm brown eyes. “You need me to do your laundry again?” 

Of course an angel such as Mallorca would make such an offer. It’s not a bad offer, either. Your dark, silver lined chest plate is splattered with blood all over the front. It’s nobodies blood that doesn’t deserve it, as per your agreement with Waller. Just some perverted little prick who thought with his dick instead of his brain with the wrong girl. She looked frightened, and you saved her, and since the prick had just hit 18 (a fact you learned after rummaging around his wallet after), you had permission to bash his brain in. Hence the blood splattered vigilante armor. 

The first time Mallorca had seen such a sight, she had no reaction whatsoever. You weren’t sure what else you were expecting from an old woman living in a back alley apartment building, but it certainly wasn’t that. She offered no shock to your red masked, blood stained roommate either. Mallorca is simply an otherworldly being. And is that cocaine you see on the collar of her shirt?

“I got it,” you throw in return, rounding the corner so she’s at your back, and nearing the climb up the next and last flight of stairs. “Hey, is Jason home?” But when you turn around fully, Mallorca shows no intention of responding and has disappeared down your previous staircase. You clasp your hands against the sides of your thighs, “Oh, okay.”

You make your way up the final steps and stick a hand in a secret back pocket to fish around for your keys. You wince when you begin the rigorous task of tugging the lanyard free from the depths, which unfortunately fell near to your back hole. Then you slip the key into the lock and twist. 

Inside your apartment is near emptiness. There’s a couch, a rug, some windows, a TV, and to your immediate right is a small kitchen beside a hallway that leads to a bathroom and two bedrooms. You see the large plant you’d stuck in the corner is wilted and tinged brown, and the TV is playing some movie with the sound muted. No sign of your roommate, however. 

You toss your helmet and keys onto the couch. Then you make your way to the kitchen to search the fridge for a snack (that you know is not there) or perhaps some water. You bend down to peek an eye in, only to stand back up and close the thing. Then you pass over to the counter, and reach up to now peek an eye in the overhead cabinet. 

“You’re home early.”

You let out a short-but cathartic- scream, jumping as you turn around. You relax quickly. It’s only Jason, and your face changes from shocked and panicked to simply annoyed. 

The man at the other side of the room pulls his infamous red helmet from atop his face. Underneath is a classically masculine, handsome face with eyes that blend between green and blue. Black hair falls free in messy strands, accented by the one white tuft that you’ve claimed reminds you of a skunk. You tilt your head lazily in defeat. “How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Jason shrugs in his red hoodie and jeans, walking across the room to set the helmet on the coffee table. “Four. Any particular reason you’re home so early?” he flops himself onto the couch and kicks his feet up, crossing them tastefully next to the Red Hood helmet. 

You turn back around to continue the task of grabbing a cup from the top cabinet. “It’s been five, and I apologize for assuming I could do what I wanted in my own home.”

“If you have to ask me to stop sneaking up on you five times, you’re probably a really bad vigilante.”

“Fuck,” you mutter as you fill the cup with tap water. “That’s true.”

You turn around to face Jason. His eyes are already on you, illuminated by the blue glow from the television. They linger purely on your form for a moment, then they dip down to narrow at your armor. “Were you the one who killed that guy on the back of main?”

You furrow your brows and look up with pursed lips in thought. “Are you talking about the main diner or the main records shop?”

“Main diner on main street.”

“No, that was Azrael. This was by the records shop.” You raise the glass to your lips.

Jason snaps his fingers. “Oh, that guy. The kid?”

You nod and take another sip of the water. “He just turned eighteen, so you know. Free game. So, what do you want for dinner? Pick something good. I’m going back to the squad so I won’t be here for a few weeks.”

Jason’s brows furrow for a split second, then he perks up attentively. “You’re going back to the task force?” he repeats, though it sounds defeated and disbelieving. Distraught- is that the word you’re looking for?

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I got the letter-” you set the cup of water down and reach a hand into your pocket. Then you pull the crumpled envelope free of its confines and toss it onto the counter, “-today.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow again. This time the movement is quick and curved and almost offended. “So, that’s it then?”

“What’s wrong, Jason?” you smirk. “Did you finally fall in love with your roommate turned friend? I always knew this day would come.”

“Uh, no?”

“Suit yourself.”

You turn back around and begin rinsing the cup out. Jason watches your back, something in his chest sinking. You weren’t his best friend. Besides living together, you weren’t really all that close. You were living a life a lot like his, running around at night as some antihero vigilante. The only difference was that you’d crossed paths with Waller and had managed to make it out of her system alive. Most antihero vigilante’s weren’t so lucky. Most of them died. But now you’re telling Jason right to his face that you’re going back. That you think you’ll only be gone a few weeks when it could just be forever. Sprayed with dark blood all over... what if it was yours?

“Actually,” Jason leans forward. His legs drop from the table and spread open, elbows resting against his knees with a hunched back. “Why don’t you pick dinner tonight?”

The glass clinks against the metal of the sink as you set it inside. Jason almost always picks dinner. Most of the time he chooses burgers or Chinese. Your apartments stove isn’t working, so eating from home really just means a BLT sandwich for the both of you. 

“Are you offering because you’re hoping I’ll choose that new steakhouse?” you smile.

“I’ll get you anything you want,” the man replies. “It’s on me.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Jason meets you on the roof of the building about an hour and a half later. You wanted to go with him, since you’d say his behavior is different from usual, but he was very adamant about you staying in. Jason even encouraged you to go ahead and pick your favorite movie to watch while he’s gone. 

When you told him you’d decided on the steakhouse option, you meant it ironically. Between the two of you, money could be described as ‘tight’. Going to a new place like that would mean saving for a while. Furthermore, you hadn’t even given him your order before Red Hood was gone. 

To his credit, looking at him now, you wouldn’t change a thing. The first bite of the food is phenomenal. The second bite is just perfect. Jason must have mind reading powers to be so aware of your taste in food- you’d thought he never noticed. 

He gets a steak, as predicted. Jason loves steak. 

Gotham looks most like itself at night, a view shared between the two of you. Two sets of legs dangle over the side of your building, both of which are clad in heavy boots and armored knees. Jason had decided to go out as his alter ego- a fact he thought he could keep from you by putting his hoodie under his leather jacket. 

“I saw you put your helmet by the door,” you tell him. “I know what’s under that sweatshirt.”

“No you didn’t,” is all he says back. 

The wind tickles the back of your neck. It ripples through the air in lazy waves, making Jason’s hair ruffle. The white skunk streak disappears and reappears between the darker-than-midnight-sky strands. Behind Jason, the moon is full and lonely. Its only company is the two of you. 

“Oh my god,” you stuff your mouth. “This is so good.”

“Hm,” Jason hums in agreement, stabbing his steak once again with a fork in his black to-go box. It’s the next movement of his shoulder that catches your eye. 

“Jason, is that cocaine, or powder donut dust?” 

Jason glances over at you. 

Your eyes linger on the white splotch of something in the wrinkles of red fabric. “Because I asked you not to eat them since there’s only two left.”

Your face slowly falls to one of horror as Jason stays still. With a face of steel, he finally says, “It’s cocaine then.”

“Then?”

“Look what I got you.”

Jason sets his box to the ledge beside him and leans down. 

“Worst subject change ever.” You take an angry bite of your meal in an attempt to both silence yourself and to make you feel better. Unfortunately as you pull away from the bite, crumbs attach themselves to your chest plate and stick to your fingers. “Crap. Jason, your dumb food is getting shit all over my stuff!”

When you look over, Jason’s orbs are already on you. His eyes pierce yours, almost unintentionally daring them to look away. The skunk strands glow this close. He holds two things in his hands. The first is a small, brown pot you could balance in the palm of your hand, filled with miniature yellow and red flowers. Scarlet tulips, golden sunflowers, and blonde alstroemerias. In the other hand is a Blu-ray copy of your favorite film. 

“Oh,” is all you can muster out. 

When was the last time the two of you had actually exchanged gifts? You weren’t lovers, or best friends. You were just friends. It had to have been last Christmas, when you had gotten him a TV subscription for South Park and a pair of socks. Jason had gifted you a new bedframe that he later helped you put together. 

A big smile reaches your eyes and makes your cheeks sore. “I haven’t been able to find this anywhere,” you say, taking the movie from his fingers. Your voice comes out pure and genuine. “Thank you.” Your smile grows even larger when you cup the pot of flowers with both hands. 

“All of the flower shops were closed,” Jason explains. “Those are plastic. They won’t die anytime soon.”

At that moment, you swear you could’ve kissed him. He’s looking at you like this is all nothing, like he didn’t just drop big money on dinner and flowers for you. Jason knew what food you wanted before you did. He knew your favorite movie when you can’t even remember saying a thing about it. When had any other man or woman been so thoughtful? So romantic? So caring?

You glance down to the film in your lap. “I didn’t think you payed attention this well.”

Jason’s brow quirks upwards. Something flashes in his eyes as he adjusts his position, seven stories up from the ground. “What kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t?” he asks. Something tells you there’s a shyness blooming in that broad chest of his. Jason’s eyes flit downward to the blood on you, before his head dips back upwards to lock a stare with you once more. “You smell nice,” he states.

You look up at him simply. You know your eyes are filled with pure adoration, and that it’s showing all over your face, but you don’t care. Your red hooded, drug pedaling, bat wrangling, gun toting equal roommate is your favorite person in all of Gotham at this exact moment. 

Behind Jason, a small bird flits overhead with a flash of crimson. “Hey, look,” you pat Jason’s shoulder. His eyes follow yours until they land on the floor of the roof behind you. “I think it’s a robin.”

“I know that bird,” Jason scowls. “That’s the son of the bitch that keeps waking me up in the morning.”

“Hm?”

You watch as Jason swings his legs over the side and pushes himself from the ledge. One hand reaches into the back of his pants while the other searches his leather jacket pocket for something. After a few seconds, he produces both a clip of ammo and a gun, which connect with a click. 

“Ah!” you yelp, placing both the flowers and movie on the brick before copying your friends actions and standing on the roof. Jason hasn’t shot yet, but the gun in his hand is aimed right at the little birdie. He’s got a clean shot. His face remains neutral and unmoving as you take your place beside him. 

It’s a full minute, and the robin is still alive and intact. He nibbles on a little crumb of bread. “He looks happy,” you think out loud. The air of Gotham goes quiet up on that roof, despite the distant sirens, music, and people throughout the city. “Are you gonna shoot?”

Jason’s finger lingers over the trigger. Even the slightest of a squeeze would set the weapon off at this point. The balls of your feet move to and froe, anticipating the bang you’re so familiar with. But then Jason lowers the gun completely, and the robin flies away at the movement. “Nah. He’ll feel the pain I dish out in the morning.”

“Don’t be sad,” you nudge Jason. “He’ll be back at six AM tomorrow to wake you up.” You turn to return to your beckoning food on the ledge. “Thanks for all this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome,” you hear Jason respond. “Hey Y/N?”

Jason watches you spin until you’re completely facing him. He can see the blood again. How it’s completely standing out against the darkness of your outfit. You look powerful, yeah. And you look like the antihero you’re labeled as. But all Jason sees is a corpse of a... of a friend. “Yeah?”

“You’re sure about this Waller thing?”

“Yeah?” you reply, as if it were obvious. The stain on you is so haunting it’s easy to think otherwise. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’ll only be a few weeks. I’ll be back before you know it. Then I can show you this sick ass movie.”

Then you go back to walking towards the ledge to retake your seat. But Jason remains standing. He watches as you, the person he thinks of naked so often, get comfortable, your back facing him. And, despite your word, Jason has the sinking feeling that some Suicide Squad mission isn’t the only place Amanda Waller will send you to. 

This time, Amanda Waller will send you to your grave.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was supposed to be out on August 16th, for Jason’s birthday. But the concept came to me too late and I spent too long on it. Anyway, here’s some symbolism for ya.

Tulips symbolize unconditional love. Sunflowers symbolize adoration. Alstroemeria’s symbolize devotion. The reader describes the plant in their apartment as turning brown, suggesting it may share a similar fate as the reader as plants go brown when about to die. Robin’s symbolize optimism, a trait the reader displays towards the idea of returning to the Suicide Squad. Robin was also a former identity of Red Hood. Both of which could be why Jason decides to spare the bird. 

I’ll go back and proof read this in the morning.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 1: Suit Up

EDIT: Written by The Maribat Pit Content warning: Swearing, there is a quote that is a reference to Titans!Jason, references to Chloe’s actions in “Battle of the Miraculous”. Rated: T Inspired by: that one Tumblr post that suggested what would happen if Jason used a Lucky Charm.   Prompt: Suit Up The kidnappers had Marinette, and Jason knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.  Marinette hadn’t returned home from her mission the night before, Plagg returned that morning without her.  He explained that Marinette had managed to free most of the kidnapped kids, but she was captured shortly after being depowered.  They assumed she was one of the kids that hadn’t managed to escape. 

Jason went from slightly worried to absolutely frantic.  Roy was still in rehab, and there was no time to call in the Bat clan for help, it was up to him.  In his mind, the more time they wasted, the closer she came to sharing his fate.  “Great, just fucking fantastic”, he muttered to himself “the bad guys have the girl you love and you’re here looking for her jewelry”.  If he went in guns blazing as the Red Hood, they would probably just kill her instantly and without a second thought.  That being said, she would probably kill him later for tearing through the apartment like this.   He was flipping the bed on its side, opening all the drawers and pulling out all of the contents.  He was trying to find the Chinese Miracle Box, thinking maybe someone in there would help him if it meant saving their Guardian.  He remembered a conversation they had when his curiosity about her powers got the better of him.

“So what if you were to, hypothetically, use several of these things at once?” He remembered asking.

“I did once, the Multimouse clones were using different fusions.  Wearing them all at once can be pretty draining, even the fusions can be pretty taxing at the best of times if I’m not careful” she explained.

She also explained what happened when her old classmate tried to put on various Miraculous at once and started demanding power from them. Suffice it to say she didn’t get her way.  So, by the sound of things, Tikki was his best bet, or he’d probably end up pissing off the other ones like Chloe did.

He found the box in her closet and opened it, to find that Plagg’s ring was missing and so were Tikki’s earrings.  He closed the box and pushed it back into the closet, before searching the room for the earrings.  She had said something before about Plagg and Tikki being the least suspicious of him.  Probably because their combined magic was what created the Lazarus pits, the very reason he wasn’t still six feet under.  He finally noticed the small red and black box sitting on the chest of drawers, and he popped it open to find the earrings inside.  He wasted no time putting the studs in one ear, before a pink ball of light appeared in front of him. The ball of light turned into Tikki who gave a little stretch and yawn before being startled to see Jason instead of Marinette in front of her. “Hey Tikki, sorry, no time to explain but Marinette’s in trouble” he spluttered, “please I need your help, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise”.

“If that’s true, then there’s no time to waste, let’s go!” Tikki exclaimed, “Just say the words and I’ll help you.” Jason’s mind suddenly drew a blank, as he tried to remember what words Marinette used to transform into Ladybug.  

“Bug Prism Power Make Up?” he tried.

“He doesn’t know the magic words?” Plagg asked slyly, “our Guardian’s life is on the line and he doesn’t know the magic words”.

“I know that you’d make a nice chew toy for Brutus”, Jason snapped as he tried to think.  “Go go Lucky Charm?” he tried, Tikki shook her head.

“Lucky charm usually comes a bit later” she rubbed the back of her head, “keep trying, if Marinette is in trouble, then she needs our help”. 

“Okay let me think, uh…It’s Magic Time? Ladybug Up? In brightest day, in blackest night...?” He kept throwing out suggestions, but Tikki continued to shake her head.  “Uh, Shazam?” he had to give that one a try at least once, Tikki sighed.

Tikki thought it was admirable watching him at least trying to figure it out, even if Plagg was no help at that moment.  It was clear to the little Kwami, she didn’t need to look that hard to know that this boy cared deeply for Marinette, even if he was hesitant to admit it at first.  Tikki remembered gently encouraging Marinette to confess her feelings towards him, while Roy and Jason’s brothers took a more…direct approach.  

“All right Jason, I’ll tell you the magic words but first,” Tikki told him and they both heard the Kwami’s stomach growl, breaking the awkward silence in the room.  Jason remembered why Marinette usually kept a cookie on hand whenever she brought Tikki along, while the faint smell of cheese usually meant Plagg was in tow instead.  

“Come on, let’s go get you a cookie” Jason said, “and some cheese for you” he shot Plagg a slightly irritated look.  As Jason looked around the kitchen, the only cookies and cheese they had were the cheap stuff.  Tikki tried to be polite about the fact that the oreo wasn’t going to cut it, Plagg just turned up his little cat nose at the processed American cheese. “Sorry Tikki, Marinette’s been a bit busy lately,” he told her before rounding on Plagg “what’s your problem?”

“You don’t happen to have any camembert, do you?” he asked, still refusing to even look at the slice of processed cheese.

“Camembert? Who was your last user?” Jason asked incredulously.  Desperate times were calling for even more desperate measures, “just hang in there Marinette,” he thought.

Jason wouldn’t be racing over to Wayne Manor if it wasn’t a dire emergency. Tikki was safely tucked away in his jacket pocket, while Plagg was clinging to the hem of his jacket as it billowed behind him.  Jason brought his motorbike to a stop just outside the gates, before hopping off darting past Damian, petting a sleeping Alfred the cat in his lap.  Right now, he was hoping Alfred the human was baking something that would catch the Kwami’s eye.  Sadly, he was not, a note on the kitchen door explained he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.  Sadly, this couldn’t wait until tomorrow.  He opened the kitchen door, the cookies from Alfred’s last batch were stored in a cookie jar on top of the fridge.  There was one cookie left, he unzipped his pocket and gestured to the cookie in the jar.  Jason reached up and grabbed the jar, before opening it and grabbing the cookie inside.  He also reached into the fridge and grabbed the camembert for Plagg.  With the Kwami munching on their snacks of choice, he dashed out of the kitchen. Plagg had practically inhaled the wheel of cheese all at once, and glided alongside him. Meanwhile, Tikki clung to the cookie with one hand and the hem of Jason’s pocket with the other. 

That morning, Bruce was not expecting to see Jason rushing past him.  He wasn’t expecting to see a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie threatening to fly out of his jacket pocket.  “Hi, can’t talk now, Marinette needs help, bye.” He called before disappearing down the hallway. Jason dashed past Dick who had just woken up, and Tim was on his way to the kitchen for some more coffee. 

“Was that the last cookie?” Dick asked, slightly groggily.

“Oh that had better not be the last cookie” Tim groaned, someone had better be dying if that was the case.

Jason rushed to his motorcycle, and slammed the gate shut behind him before hopping on and putting on his helmet. Tikki was halfway through munching on the cookie, when she gave him a quick rundown of the powers that she would be giving him.  Jason knew that the Miraculous granted the user enhanced speed, strength and endurance, he just hadn’t thought there would come a day when he would have to use their power.  It was probably for the best that their guardian didn’t choose him when he was 13, for reasons that a bunch of guards were about to find out very soon.

Meanwhile, Marinette found herself in a cage inside a warehouse.  There were two men guarding the cage, neither of them knew that Marinette was the girl in the black leather catsuit. They caught her just as the clock had run out on her powers, and they assumed she was one of the kids that had been captured.  She was a petite young woman, and they found her dressed in a polka dotted hoodie, shorts and tights.  She sent Plagg to go get help, and he had been gone for a few hours now.  She was getting increasingly antsy,  Jason was probably worried sick about her.  

Jason arrived at the suspected gang hideout as fast as could, leapt off his bike and grappled to a vantage point. “Ok, relatively small time trafficking racket. Now where is Pixie Pop?” Jason thought to himself, scanning the area from his vantage point. “Plagg, go find Marinette, and tell her to not transform until I arrive.”  Plagg flew out of Jason’s pocket and made his way there.  “Alright Tikki, what's the magic word?” The Kwami flew out of Jason’s pocket as he spoke, Tikki glided to Jason’s ear and whispered to him the phrase. Jason repeated “Spots On” and felt power coursing through his veins. It felt like Venom without the addictive or berserk tendencies, pure energy was flowing through him. He felt the uncontrollable urge to pose and move with the flow of energy, doing a flourish of kicks and punches.  It ended with him raising his left leg to his head, as if it was a vertical split and slamming it down. “Owwwwwwwwwwww” Jason groaned, “My thighs were not meant to do that.” He was not expecting the compulsive flourishes for the transformation itself.

Jason looked at his reflection in a nearby puddle, he could see he was wearing a full spotted suit and domino mask like Ladybug, yet his leather jacket stayed during the transformation and received its own ladybug pattern. Jason sucked up the pain and pushed onwards to the gang hideout.

Jason snuck in through a vent and approached a large main room, housing most if not all of the guards and their “merchandise” with cages strewn across the room with mostly women and children locked up. He finally sees Marinette, alive but imprisoned in a cage with a few other people in a corner. Jason needed a distraction so that Marinette could transform into Lady Noire. He had to do something to take the attention off every single person in the room. 

Jason sighed and thought of a plan, it may not be the most flattering, but it worked and it would not be so threatening as cutting out the lights. He burst from the air vents and landed in a crouch, standing straight and shouting “Halt Evildoers, it I...Red Bug?” 

This indeed worked as planned, as every guard, goon and hostage set their eyes on the intruder.  The guards began pointing and laughing, “Good, they don't think I’m a threat” thought Jason. The guards underestimating Red Bug was what he needed, so that they would not find him threatening or harm anyone just yet. 

Marinette took this opportunity to transform into Lady Noire. She wasted no time and began with Cataclysm, bringing down all the cages and making her way to Jason’s position. Both Lady Noire and Red Bug began fighting the guards, buying the hostages time to make their escape. As the last person successfully escaped the gang hideout, both Lady Noire and Red Bug stood side by side.  More of them began to trickle in as they heard the commotion and began to surround the pair.

Marinette needed to think fast, she didn't have much time left after casting Cataclysm. She said to her partner, “Lucky Charm, Now!” Red Bug raised his eyebrow, “Lucky Charm?” he repeated. He suddenly felt the same compulsion as he did during the transformation, his arm suddenly shot upward with the yo-yo spinning. He looked up to see a swarm of ladybugs converge to form...a purse? Red Bug caught the purse with a look of disbelief, Lady Noire looked around the room for a plan to use the purse. Lady Noire got a burst of inspiration and turned around to tell her partner of her cunning plan, only to be greeted by thin air. She was brought out of her stupor hearing her partner yell out “LIGHTS OUT BITCH!”.  She whipped her head towards the source of the noise to see Red Bug beating the guards with the Ladybug-themed purse.  “I guess that works too” she said to nobody in particular. Knowing she had little time remaining as Lady Noire, she started running for the exit. Red Bug had no issue dealing with the remaining goons. Marinette hadn’t expected Jason to suit up with one of the Miraculous, not that she was complaining.  She had expected him to come charging in as the Red Hood, or maybe start by picking off the guards one-by-one.  She was surprised, but it wasn’t an unpleasant one, mostly.  Since leaving Chat Noir behind in Paris, the fight left her feeling oddly nostalgic.  Sometimes she missed fighting alongside a Miraculous user, though Tikki might have something to say about his...unusual use of a Lucky Charm.  She walked over to Jason’s parked motorcycle and waited. Within minutes Jason followed suit and walked out the front door of the hideout.  A swirl of green light surrounded him as he changed back, and Tikki zoomed over towards Marinette.  Tikki nuzzled against Marinette’s face for a moment, before Jason walked towards her.  He pulled his girlfriend into a big hug,  Marinette is left breathless for a moment as he nuzzles into her neck.   He didn’t say anything, but neither of them really needed to say anything at that moment. Touched by how much Jason cared for her, Marinette returned the hug. She stayed in that warm embrace for a long moment, before reaching up and gently patting him on the head.  “Let’s go home...Pixie Pop.” Jason pulled away at the mention of the nickname he gave her, and before she could react, Jason began pinching her cheeks. “What did you call me?” Jason jokingly interrogated, while Marinette giggled like an idiot. EXTRA: Jason is sitting next to Dick and Damian in the Wayne manor lounge with two ice packs on his thighs Jason:  I don’t know how you do it Dickie, my thighs were not meant to do that. Dick (covers Damian’s ears): Soooo did you and Marinette…. Jason:  I literally beat up some guys with a purse today, don’t push me.

[uwumessenger]

random headcanons i have for each om! character teehee

hi it's been a while since ive posted some hcs bc uni has been kicking my a$$! luckily i only have a few papers to tidy up and im done. here r some hcs for each obey me character that ive accumulated over the past few months wink wonk

most are random but some constants you'll find are what i think they smell like, languages they can speak (other than their native (demon/angel) and eng/jp), and music tastes !

lucifer

i have a strong feeling that he showers twice a day: in the morning after waking up and at night before going to bed

his cologne is probably the type that will last in an elevator for like a week after he uses it once. i dont think this mf ever smells like anything other than his cologne

has a secret folder on his phone of semi-nudes and other scandalous pics from when he felt sexy at the time omg

aside from demon language/eng/jp he can speak french and knows latin

listens to classical stuff yea but he also listens to diavolos mixtapes (re: diavolo's section)

not a fan of sweets but will eat sweet things when craving

really bland sense of humor...borderline cringey 😭✋🏻

mammon

has gone to google images and searched for "inspirational quotes tumblr" "gold aesthetic tumblr" & "relatable crush post tumblr" then reposts it onto his socials or just taps thru them and giggles bc he relates

his cologne doesnt last as long as lucifers and probably smells common. he has to reapply a lot but it's a people pleasing smell. it's cheaper hence the constant reapplying

he probably does have an expensive bottle but is the type to totally overspray...eek

he is canonically a car guy 🥲 and probably tells the one in his room good morning & good night + kisses the hood every once in a while. has tons of car magazines

he doesnt really speak other languages but has attempted to learn spanish before

listens to whatever is on the radio. doesnt rly stan anyone but he eventually will listen to mc's playlist and mc's playlist ONLY

levi

lurks on mc's socials ALL THE TIMEEEE like he will rewatch ur stories and scroll thru ur feed and overanalyze ur tweets/rts or blog posts. if ur mc isnt the type to use sns much he still googles ur name all the damn time just to find any sites u might be on fjdjdjdjskks

probably streams on whatever youtube or twitch devildom site equivalent there is, but only has like 40 or so followers. which he is okay with!

until he sees someone else who gets more attention than him. then the envy starts kicking in bad. especially if they suck 🧍🏻‍♀️

classic gamer boy smell. you know, sweat, tears, must, and (sometimes) axe deodorant. lucifer has to do a scent check before he goes out to any event & lets him use his cologne. how sweet!

kpop stan!! more girl groups than anything and his ults are probably GIRLS GENERATION, wonder girls, twice, loona, & red velvet

cried when ioi disbanded and refused to leave his room. the only thing u could hear was downpour on loop at full blast

can also speak korean & communicate in echolocation like dolphins 😏

satan

listens to country music you cant change my mind

smells like whatever environment he is in. he doesnt really have a designated smell just throws some deodorant on and goes about his day.

he's sooooo bad at driving...gets road rage way too often so his license has been REVOKED

but hes totally a backseat driver. needs to be sedated on long trips

do not let him watch finding nemo when luke asks to watch it. it's not worth it. he will cause mass destruction.

if he was a human or lived long term in the human world he totally has the ability to be a doctor

is studying as many languages as possible, but he mostly knows latin & french & german etc etc. wants to learn all the dead languages out of curiousity

asmo

dont think this mf has ever held down a relationship. ever

he doesnt compromise much & is not willing to change his lifestyle to fit an s/o into it. you keep up with how he lives or it just isnt meant to be (but dont worry! he'll eventually learn...maybe,,,,)

has the hardest time out of everyone when it comes to breaking bad habits

his smell varies bc he uses a variety of perfumes (whatever is the most popular at the time) but he probably sticks to floral and fresh scents. he never uses generic people pleaser scents like mammon

listens to electropop, mainstream pop, & some alternative rock

as for languages he too knows french, spanish, italian, etc. in general, if it's a romance language he knows it!

opposite of lucifer in the sense where he loves sweets and will refrain from eating too many bitter things

i think we all know that asmo is the biggest rockstar of the group! he's probably been in a boy band at least once, but now he makes his own music

has tried to teach mammon how to sing once. ended up in a broken piano and bleeding ears...

beel

i feel like he is SO SHY

like unless ur close to him he will not start conversations or anything

i think he listens to r&b a lot ! and jazz 😎 maybe rock as well

smells like ur typical athlete with undertones of wet wipes. he carries them around bc he likes to clean his hands before he eats & is prepared for when theres no sink nearby

he can drive and he drives really well. no rough turns, parallel parks perfectly, and never has problems with merging

driving with beel is probably really soothing. left hand is steering the other is gripping ur thigh 😫

dont think hes really fluent in any other language but hes probably semi fluent in korean because levi wanted beel to help him out

definitely know how to order food in practically every language tho HAHAHA

belphie

he reminds me of randall from monsters inc

smells kinda musty IM SORRY but not the way levi does hes more like the kind of musty u feel or smell when it's a shitty morning

but that's only because hes so lazy, when he cleans up hes like satan

has definitely murdered multiple people before. mc is not the first 😐✋🏻

with that being said belphie has been put into prison at least twice when visiting the human world, the mf had such a strong hatred for humans theres no way he never got into trouble before

lucifer probably broke him out and they used the pen thingies from men in black to erase everyones memory of that 🙄

dont think he listens to anything other than music that'll put him to sleep. really likes lazy song by bruno mars but thinks that bruno mars put too much effort into the song. should have been one acapella verse and then finish

similar to beel hes only semi fluent in one language, probably french bc of lucifer. doesnt remember much but knows a couple of lullabies and bedtime stories

the sandman used to be his bff until they drifted. they do, however, like and comment on each other's sns posts.

diavolo

once he found out who nicki minaj was he became her #1 stan

def an ariana grande stan too 😌

choreographs dances when hes stressed...idk just seems like a diavolo thing to do

also makes rly bad soundcloud rap music sometimes. turns to poetry when hes feeling emo but only lucifer knows this. barbatos is suspicious of him but doesnt have enough evidence to confirm.

his dad is like hudson abadeer from adventure time aka marceline's dad? something must have influenced him to want to unite the 3 realms + he would need the approval to do so, so his dad must be more chill than all the others before him 🧍🏻‍♀️ IDK ok anyway

currently going through his hamilton phase bc of mc. whether mc's intent was to get him hooked onto it or just to explain it bc of something he saw online, he tells everyone that he found out abt it bc of mc!

this man cannot drive his skills are only second to jumin han

not too fond of many languages but knows the widely spoken ones like spanish, mandarin, etc. if it's taught in high school he knows it

smells like a las vegas casino. not sure why but i feel like he does. but there's also an interesting & nice smell to him if he embraces you. it's a smell you cant quite identify. but it smells nostalgic, it's mysterious, and it's tempting.

barbatos

very calm demeanor but underneath hes WILD hes probably done everything at least once oof

he just has a lot of control and stability over himself (must be nice!)

on a more angsty note i feel like he might have had his heartbroken sO BAD IDK he is hurting and maybe that's why hes so willing to obey diavolo and not abuse his time lord power thingies bc he learned his lesson the hard way

mans is so smart he knows every language you could switch languages mid conversation with him and he wouldnt be thrown off. he'd probably start speaking it too.

BUT HE SPEAKS VIET P E R F E C T L Y

listens to the same stuff as lucifer but also likes eminem. likes the movie 8 mile but criticized it heavily

have you ever been to a chinese herb shop? naturally, he smells like that. his room probably smells like it too. he doesnt really have a significant smell like some of the others

when he bakes he smells like whatever hes baking tho

one of the few out of everyone listed to have been able to travel to literally everywhere

solomon

was probably on kitchen nightmares once, but only to get feedback from chef gordon ramsay. then he used his magic to prevent the episode from airing...

was in an orchestra, one of the best times of his life. played the violin. asmo watched him in the audience once, but didnt approach him until well after that performance.

he CANNOT sing. he can, however, rap.

doesnt listen to music. he listens to podcasts! but every now and then he turns on background music, but prefers it to be instrumental stuff

never wears sunglasses. also does not have a driver's license. cannot drive a regular car. could maybe fly an airplane.

due to his immortality he has learned almost every language to exist, but finds himself speaking mandarin the most. knows most dialects too

similar smell to barbatos but u can also smell some sunscreen on him too. like, generic beach day suncreen

he has a lot of pact marks, so he once had the idea to match foundation to his skin. it took him two weeks but he eventually perfected a combination. yes he will help u find ur perfect shade if u ask him to

simeon

another country music man. has also made a tiktok or two to that one song that goes "he cant even bait a hook." they are private tho

angel country music exists and simeon invented it

if he visits the human world and wears more causal clothing he probably tucks his shirt into his pants

wears a speedo at the beach i tell u, speedo at the beach

he can speak german...i can feel it

uses his pointer finger to type and holds the phone like 2 inches away from his face so sometimes his nose will push a key hence all his typos

has no signature smell. he simply smells like your favorite scent all the time. if multiple people are around him at once, everyone smells a different smell. it's pretty rad

"what does he smell like to himself?" u may be asking. hmm...a church? 💀

luke

his first pet was a goldfish and a few months before the exchange program happened, he was given a koi pond!

secretly likes hanging out with levi sometimes just to play with henry. makes him miss his pet fish back home

so his favorite movie is probably finding nemo and he threw a fit when nemo touched the butt

luke is probably learning german bc of simeon, though he'd like to learn more of the dead languages just for fun

i dont think he listens to music often or has any preferences, he just listens to whatever is playing on the radio

but he finds himself listening to the music mc listens to

smells like freshly baked goods all the time. or fresh laundry. but like, not combined. just depends on the day

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Hoodie

A songfic based on Hoodie by Hey Violet.

Word Count: 1,861

CW: food mention, cursing.

Nines’ keys jingled as he opened the door. “Darling, I’m home!”

The only answer he received was a cat coming over for pets. Nines smiled, shrugging off his jacket before scooping the grey-striped animal into his arms and letting her rub against his chin as he walked to the kitchen. Passing by the stereo system, he carefully twisted the knob so soft pop would start playing over the speakers. He set Stalker down and grabbed the food from the cabinet, the only other thing in there being a few bags of thirium neatly leaning against the wall.

He cracked the can open a bit more and heard a noise from down the hall. A few moments later, Levi was entering the room, tail high and expecting food. Nines chuckled, reaching down to pet the all black cat along his spine before putting the food in their bowls.

He scratched between Stalker’s ears before going to sit on the couch. Propping a foot up on the other knee, he picked up a tablet and reviewed a few more files for the day before moving to the novel he’d been reading.

The evening progressed quietly, the cats curling up with him when their meal was finished. Finally, Nines could delay it no longer. While in reality his systems would be fine without the sleep cycle he’d been maintaining for the past year, they needed it to function optimally in the same way humans needed actual sleep.

He stood from the couch and went into the bedroom, changing into sweatpants before gingerly picking up the hoodie that lay across the bed. It was old and faded, the zipper no longer working and cigarette burns littering the cloth. The words ‘Detroit Police Department’ were barely visible anymore. He pulled it close to his face and breathed in deeply. Doing so tricked his processors into slowing down and had his memory banks pulling up a specific file. He slipped the garment on as he let the memory play out, going through the rest of his nightly routine.

Gavin smiled, handing him the bundle of fabric. “I’ll be back before you know it. Hey, take care of this for me, will ya?”

Gavin shrugged off his hoodie before picking up his bag. Nines stood at the door and reached a hand to him when he passed, blocking the path. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to do it.”

Nines nodded, leaning down to capture his lips in a brief kiss. He tried to put all his emotions into it, arm curling around Gavin’s back and gently holding him, but he never had been very good at that. Gavin kissed him back, a hand coming to rest on Nines’ chest as he leaned into it. He cupped Nines’ cheek when they pulled apart.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” He grinned that lopsided cocky grin that Nines couldn’t help but adore, and then he was gone. Whisked away by an unmarked police car to be undercover at a place he might not return from.

Nines pulled back the covers and slid into the bed, letting the sheet fall around him. He breathed in the smell of Gavin around him, the pillowcase that hadn’t been washed since that day but had never been used and the faded hoodie he wore. It made him feel that much closer to the detective. He curled onto his side, Levi coming up to lay next to him. Nines reached out and rubbed his ears, scratching under his chin before letting his sleep cycle activate. He had just enough time to register Stalker coming over to lay on his head before he fell asleep for the night.

He went through the morning in a similar way, making the bed and putting the hoodie and sweatpants back where they were. He took a shower and made sure his hair looked presentable before putting on a black turtleneck and jeans. He went into the living room and gathered up the things he’d need for the day, putting dry food and water in the bowls, before heading to the door, the cats winding around his ankles the whole way. He meticulously tied his shoes before pulling Gavin’s hooded leather jacket off the hook and slipping it on over his shoulders. He nudged the cats with his toe and they wandered off in opposite directions as he left.

He arrived at the precinct and went to his desk, opening the files and getting the routine paperwork done early. Much of his afternoon would be filled with checking in with Gavin, the one time a month he got to speak with him and it was as handler and operative, and doing the paperwork that came with that. He got his paperwork done and began prepping Gavin’s file.

He made a brief stop at the break room to grab a cup of thirium before making his way to the room that housed the secure line they’d use to check in. Nines might not be able to see his face but at least he was going to get to hear his voice and that was enough for him at the moment.

The debriefing went smoothly, Gavin being able to get the full report out and Nines having enough time to relay new instructions to him, finishing with, “You’ll be able to be home within the month if all goes well.”

Gavin chuckled before swearing quietly. “Yeah, babe, don’t worry, I’ll be home soon.” His voice turned sweet, the way it did when he was relaxed at home, but there was a slight edge to it that Nines picked up on. Someone else was in the room with Gavin. 

Nines chuckled back, not sure if they were able to hear him. “That’s good to hear. I’ve really missed you.” He tried to keep his voice light and even but a slight tremor invaded it.

Gavin chuckled low and deep. “Are you taking good care of my hoodie?”

Nines closed his eyes, leaning just a bit more forward as he pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah, but it’s mine now. If you want it back, you know where to find me.” He let a growl enter his voice. “Come and get it.”

There was a wide smile in Gavin’s voice when he spoke, voice playful. “You can bet I will.” Someone called him, voice muffled along the connection. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute, just let me finish this call!” His voice dropped from a shout to almost a purr. “I'll try not to keep you waiting.”

The line dropped dead and Nines opened his eyes, left with an empty room and a secure line. He sighed, stopping the recording of the call and straightening his files. He stood and exited the room, keeping his features schooled and not showing an ounce of emotion.

Connor was waiting at his desk and Nines almost wanted to avoid him. Instead, he sat down in the chair and slipped the files into their drawer. “Can I help you with something, Brother?”

Connor shrugged, leaning against the desk. “It’s more what I can help you with. How are you holding up, Nines?”

Nines shrugged, pulling Gavin’s jacket just a bit closer around himself. “What do you expect me to say? That I’m suffering? That I’m getting on just fine without him? I want him here, Eights. I want him by my side where I can make sure he’s eating right, where he’s not in immediate danger at all hours of the day. I want to curl around him and feel his chest vibrate when he talks. I want him back.” He paused, smoothing out his face and pulling his voice back from the louder edge of a normal conversational voice. “I’m doing fine but I’ll be better when he’s back.”

Connor patted his back before walking away, no comforting words to be said. Nines pulled the hood up, letting it cover his red LED, before connecting with his terminal and entering the conversation into records.

The next week went on as usual, Nines spending his time alone with only Connor, Tina, and the cats for company most times. There was a hole in his life, a hole that wouldn’t heal until Gavin was home. He went through life the best he could, ignoring the fact that the one person he felt most like himself around was out there in an unsafe environment that he couldn’t protect him from. He needed the control of knowing Gavin was safe, more than just the monthly phone call or arrest if they could get away with it.

Another evening of coming home to an empty apartment, of calling out, “Darling, I’m home!”  on reflex as he entered.

A voice chuckled from the kitchen. “I kinda like that one.”

Nines almost dropped his keys in surprise before kicking the door shut and launching himself toward the kitchen. “Gavin?!”

Gavin stood there, Stalker in his arms, and turned to face Nines. “There really isn’t anything in here to eat, is there?”

Nines froze in the doorway, taking in every aspect of Gavin. He looked tired, a scrape across his jaw, and his clothes were rumpled and dirty. Nines had never been so glad to see him. He stepped forward and took the cat from Gavin’s arms, putting her down before pulling Gavin against him. Gavin’s face turned up at him, a smirk on his lips even as his eyes drifted to Nines’. Nines smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re home.” He bent to kiss him.

Gavin smiled into the kiss, melting against him. It’d been the first time they were in each other’s personal space in two months and the first time they’d kissed in six months. They both savored it, lingering for as long as they could.

Eventually, Gavin pulled back to breathe. He laid his head on Nines’ chest, arms wrapping around him to keep him close. “I missed you.”

Nines dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “I missed you too.”

They stood in their kitchen for a few more minutes before Gavin spoke again. “But seriously, there’s no food in this house and I’m starving.”

Nines chuckled. “Yeah, we can get you some food. What do you want?”

“A burger. I’ve been living off Chinese for the past three months and I’m sick of it.”

Nines nodded against him. “I can get you a burger, that’s no big deal.”

Gavin pulled back enough to look at him, leaning in to kiss him again when one of the cats started yowling. Gavin laughed. “Leviathan Whiskers Reed, that’s not very cash money of you.”

Nines laughed, pulling Gavin in to kiss him again, ignoring the still screaming animal that was now climbing up his leg. Finally, they pulled back and Nines detached Levi from his leg. “Alright, alright. I’m getting you food, calm down you gremlin.”

He fed the cats before herding Gavin toward the door. “Let’s get you a burger.”

Gavin leaned his head against Nines’ shoulder. “That sounds nice. Burger and fries, maybe a shake, before I sleep for a week.”

D:BH Taglist (Check out my masterlist before sending an ask to be added!): Currently, no one is on the taglist.

[definitelynotkatesblog]

6 PM ∣ Spencer Reid Fic

Summary: Spencer has very eagerly awaited your return home and he did not like to be kept waiting.

A/N: This entire fic literally came to me as I was writing 6 AM. I was thinking of titles in the back of my mind, and at one point was trying to describe Spencer’s behavior as night and day then BOOM- 6 PM was born. Anyways, enjoy some smut, ya filthy animals.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fingering, Oral sex (female receiving), Mild exhibitionism (phone), cursing

WC: 2.1k

Coming home to Spencer was objectively the best part of my day. The annoyances and the stress all melted away as soon as my key turned the lock, knowing he was on the other side of the door.

I twisted my key in the door and was surprised when it opened before I could even fully twist the knob. I looked up to see my handsome man standing in the doorway with a hungry look in his hooded eyes.

I grinned and stepped inside, expecting to be welcomed home with kisses and a ‘How was your day?’. What I was welcomed with was far from it.

Spencer’s hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me inside, closing the door quickly behind me before flattening my back against it, caging me with his body.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he breathed. His knuckles slowly brushed the side of my face.

Once my brain caught up to my body, my eyes searched his and found a dark hunger that made my heartbeat pound in the junction of my thighs.

“I’m sorry-”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he said. His tone was playful, but paired with the look in his eyes I knew better than to think he was joking. That didn’t stop me from plastering a wicked grin on my face, though. “In that case, I’m really sorry.”

My hands snaked around his waist, forming fists in the material of his shirt, pulling it taut around his torso.

Our lips crashed together, his impatient avidity heating the space between us. I teased him with a quick sweep of my tongue across his bottom lip before pulling my head back when he leaned forward. I smiled against his lips, but was quickly made aware of the severity of my mistake.

One hand skated up and over my chest, resting on my collarbone while the other flexed around my hip. He raked my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down harder as the plump skin dragged between them. A whimper escaped my throat, the mix of pain and pleasure creating a pool of heat low in my belly.

He rolled his hips forward slightly, alerting me to the presence of the bulge growing in his pants.

A hungry moan left my lips and spilled into his mouth, fueling the fire burning between us. His hands flew to my hair, lacing his fingers through and grabbing a fistful in one while the other pulled me impossibly closer by the nape of my neck.

The shrill cry of his phone ringing cut through the electric charge in the air, ruining a perfectly good moment. He pulled away from me, leaving me breathless as he casually walked away to answer. I swiped my thumb across my bruised lip and inspected it for blood before trying to read his body language from across the room to determine if he’d be swept away for a case or not.

I huffed and smoothed my dress, making my way over to him. He paced around the living room, his eyes darting left and right, processing and figuring. He looked so cute when he was concentrating. What a shame it would be if someone were to… distract him.

I plopped down on the couch and bent over to start unbuckling the strap around my ankle. Spencer waving caught my attention from my peripheral. He covered the bottom half for a second and tilted the phone away from him for a moment. “Leave them on,” he whispered.

Oh?

A wicked grin spread across my lips as he rambled on about some gory happenings in a city a few towns over. I sauntered over and stood in front of him, sure to make heavy enough eye contact for him to furrow his brow before I dropped to my knees.

He shot me a warning look that I promptly ignored, running my hands up his legs to the front of his thighs. I palmed him through the fabric of his pants, looking up through my lashes to see his jaw clenched and his fist coming up to cover his mouth, biting a knuckle.

My hand wandered, pawing coyly until I felt him harden under my touch.

“Yeah, mhm. Okay-”

I began unbuttoning his pants, humming to myself as his hand came down and closed around my wrist. He looked genuinely shocked at my behavior. Served him right for earlier.

Unphased, I used my other hand to pick up where the other left off.

“Alright, thanks.” He tapped the screen and looked down at me, his eyebrows raised.

I smiled sweetly and stood up, dusting off my knees.

“You almost made me hang up on my boss!”

“Hmm, Emily would have understood.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips and patted him through his pants.

I turned to walk towards the kitchen, leaving him standing there with a half-hard cock and his jaw on the ground.

“How does Chinese sound for dinner?” I asked, digging through a drawer of miscellaneousness to find the glossy pamphlet.

“Sounds good. Will you call and order?” he called from the bedroom.

I nodded to myself, leaning over the counter to flip through the menu to decide. This place had quickly become our go-to take out spot; a quaint family-run hole in the wall with decent pricing and portion sizes.

“I don’t know why you flip through it if you’re going to get the same thing every time,” he laughed from behind me. “Because!” I countered, the one word being my only rebuttal. He wasn’t wrong.

His hands slid around my hips, while he rubbed his hips against my backside. I smiled to myself at his bulge having not yet resolved itself.

I dialed the number we both- well, I, knew by heart and held the phone to my ear, lazily swaying my hips from my bent over position. His fingers flexed around my hips, forming a grip.

A bored sounding voice answered the phone. “Thank you for calling CC’s Chinese Cuisine. Can you hold?”

“Yeah, I can hold.”

I stood and spun around, throwing one arm over his shoulder while the other held the phone to my ear. I toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging it a little with a wink. His eyes raked over my face, dark and hooded like they were when I first got home.

His hands on my hips quickly spun me back around, one hand flying to the space between my shoulder blades to bend me over again.

The change of pace made my head spin for a moment and my cheeks flush. His hands quickly made their way to the hem of my dress, lifting it to the small of my back. A small giggle escaped my lips at his brashness. I turned around expecting to see a playful look on his face, but found his jaw clenched, watching me intently instead. One hand moved to gather the fabric of my dress  while the other skated along the skin of my belly at the waistline of my underwear. My breath hitched as his fingers made their way past the barrier.

“Thank you for holding. How can I help you?” Somehow the voice on the phone sounded even more bored than before.

“Wh- Um, yes I’d like to place an order for delivery, please.”

My free hand on the counter moved to stop the southbound motion of his hand. His hand deftly avoided mine, instead grabbing my hand and placing it firmly on the counter again.

His hand returned, this time landing directly on its mark, slipping a finger between my folds.

“Sp-”

He shushed me and rolled his hips, pressing his hardness into my backside again.

“Go ahead.”

Spencer’s finger worked in quick circles, swirling around my clit then pushing into me, joined by another digit moments later. His thrusts were slow at first, coaxing my wetness to slide down his fingers. His hand remained on the small of my back, keeping me compromised and at his mercy.  

“Can I please have an orange chicken w-with lo mein noodles-” I brought the phone away from my mouth, silencing a moan. “A-and a beef and broccoli with veggie fried r-rice.”

“Okay,” the voice droned.

The irony was not lost on me that the lack of enthusiasm on the other end of the phone was being met and exceeded by the red, hot coil winding in my core.

“Don’t forget the rangoons,” he whispered from behind me.

Son of a bitch, I wanted to be off of this god damned phone call already.

“I’d like to add an order of crab rangoons to that as well, please.” I squeaked out.

“Let me check if we have anymore. Can you hold?”

“Mmmm, so wet.” Spencer said, only loud enough for me to hear. My hand flew to my mouth to cover the gasp threatening to escape.

His fingers switched their tempo, now curving just so before diving deeper with each thrust.

“YES. Yes. Uh huh, I’ll hold.” As soon as I heard the phone be put down and the voice shouting in the background, I slammed my fist against the counter and let out the frustrated moan I’d been trying to suppress.

“Fucking hell, Spencer! What are you-”

He didn’t answer, instead removing his hand and dropping to his knees, pulling my underwear down with him. With my heels still on, he was at perfect eye level with the mess he was making.

He hummed from behind me, dragging a single finger through the wetness threatening to drip down my thighs.

I swallowed the pant crawling up my throat as the voice came back on the phone.

“Okay we have them. Is that all?”

Spencer’s hands found their way to the tops of my thighs, forcing them apart before laying a long lick between my folds, damn near knocking me off my feet. I felt my legs start to shake as his laps got quicker, the sounds of his moans into me enough to make me cry.

“Yep, mhm, that’s all” I squeaked, biting my finger between my teeth to contain the scream building in my throat. His fingers crept their way up to my clit again, slipping to form quick circles as his mouth and tongue continued to work.

“Okay, that’ll be, uh-” the voice hesitated, and I could faintly hear keys clacking on the other end. At this point I wasn’t sure what was going to come first, me or the total.

God, I could fucking scream.

“$23.50.” the voice said. “Give it 30 minutes or so.”

“Okaythanksbye” I rushed, smashing the end button and pulling the phone away from my face. At this point, I couldn’t be bothered to be polite.

Spencer’s mouth continued relentlessly- sucking and thrusting while his fingers formed a V and slid on either side of my clit, gently squeezing and drawing downward slightly. Stars started to cloud my vision as a guttural moan left my chest, finally able to escape my body.

My head fell to the side, my cheek pressed up against the cool counter top- the hot and cold offering a new sense of stimulation to my poor body.

“Oh, god.”

He moaned against me as my walls spasmed around his fingers, my orgasm racking through my body like glass shattering, creating a mosaic of pleasure. The white hot fire coursing through my veins illuminated me from within like a stained glass masterpiece at a chapel. Spencer was on his knees worshipping me, devouring me like the blood and body of Christ himself on a holy Sunday. His name left my mouth like a prayer as I begged him for mercy and repented for my sins.

My body fell limp on the countertop, my chest heaving as broken breaths shuddered from my lungs. Spencer’s fingers slowed and his lips pressed soft kisses against my cheeks as I put my pieces back together again. He chuckled from his position on his knees and dragged one last finger through my wetness before popping it into his mouth and sucking it clean.

The sight alone made me knees weak and reignited the flame in my belly. My attempt to stand was thwarted by my legs going into full Bambi mode, struggling to balance in my heels. Spencer stood and grabbed my hips, offering his support while stifling a laugh. I shot him the dirtiest look I could manage in my fragile state.

“He probably knew what was happening!” I whined.

“Yeah, I don’t think he would mind,” he said on a wink.

“You know,” he said casually, “We still have about 27 minutes.”

***

Let’s chat!

[the-last-millenial-disaster]

hello! if you don't mind, could you do headcanon for omen x sage? thank you so much! also, i love your headcanons uwu

(A/N: mmmkay you took the literal embodiment of death and paired him with a radiant healer. What else is new. I had fun speculating for this one! I hope you enjoy!)

They both love to read

They’re not as different as you might think

Omen takes life, including his - repeatedly

Sage gives life, but in order to do so, she’d have to take it from somewhere wouldn’t she? Nothing comes from nothing

Now before you cuss me out that she could be giving her own life force or dragging their souls back into their bodies--

“Sage, the life you give, do you ever wonder where it’s taken from?”

Would he have a line like that for her if that was the case? Would he really?

He knows something and honestly, to me, that’s the most interesting part about their relationship

But I feel like that’s a lot to unpack there so I’ll leave it for a theory post

On to the fluff

Sage likes to cook - especially recepies she can remember from home

Since she joined the protocol Sage rarely gets to visit, and the Chinese food substitutes elsewhere felt less than adequate

So she started making them herself - dumplings, chinese noodles, wontons, you name it

Omen can’t eat, but he can smell

Before he started out with Sage, Omen considered it unnecessary and loathsome - he could smell the food, flowers, even fresh air

But that’s all that it was to him. A smell.

He could smell food, but he couldn’t be hungry. He could smell the fresh air, but could only faintly remember how good it felt to have it rushing through his lungs

He could remember how much better these things felt when he was alive, how much more vibrant and beautiful it was to simply live

Now, all of these scents haunted him, only strenghtening the melancholy of his days among the living

He never told this to anyone

Sage picked it up by herself, and is also the only one who can fanthom even just trying to understand Omen’s mentality

Because when you think about it, she understands death

Sage will play around in the kitchen, probing and trying different variations of flavours, while Omen will sit there, silently observing

Sage hoped to return his faith in life, to amplify his senses so he could at least feel like he’s living again

She didn’t succeed. Not directly.

Her cooking didn’t bring him back - but it did tie a smell to a feeling

Omen felt completely content and at ease while in her presence

He didn’t get the feeling of getting judged or pointed at

After a long while, he felt happy

Every time he’d pick up a spice he’d remember the love they’ve built over the years

Every time he stepped inside and smelled ginger or galric, he would remember Sage

He would remember how to be happy

He would start noticing joy he’d otherwise overlook

He’d remember his incredible luck (may the irony never defeat him), to be with someone so life-giving

Sage helped him with his social skills a lot

He’s still antisocial though

I mean, she’s a magic worker but there are some things you just can’t fix

One thing Sage likes to have in her life is touch - hand on the shoulder, a kiss on the head here and there, walking down the street hand in hand, touching while asleep...

...Omen is not very touchy

He doesn’t like to be touched, or vice versa

But deep down, he’s afraid

What if I hurt her?

So he had to relearn human contact

That was hard, sice he’s spent a good portion of his radiant time in a lab, being pricked and prodded like a test subject

Also he generally doesn’t like touching warmer things since it disturbes his atoms and he finds it harder to keep them together

So...they had a bit of a hiccup there

But he got better at it because it made Sage happy and that was good enough for him

So when he came home from a mission one day, and wrapped his arms around Sage on his own, her brain couldn’t process for a moment

They don’t often run missions together

Omen cannot work proficently with Sage around, since he would just tail her and obliterate anyone in her path

He lost everything once, and it won’t happen again

Sage is annoyed by this, since she’s being babied for being a healer by everyone else already, like she can’t clutch that bitch

She also has the worst luck. She fell for the only agent she can’t revive.

She can’t stand and watch Omen offering himself as bait and willingly dying time and time again

Sage is strongly against his suicidal callouts, since she’s the only one with a full grasp on how painful it really is for him

They’re both cat people

Omen likes to chill in Sage’s room in the HQ, since it has a lot of vegetation and is always well ventilated

There’s a lot of hugs from behind when they’re alone

It just showcases the trust Omen has in Sage - he’d probably kill anyone else who tried to do that on a reflex

Omen rather shows than tells

So Sage will find little things he left for her, or brought from a new place he went to

A new book, a piece of handcrafted art, a postcard

Little things, and she collects them all

(And if we’re going there imagine her coming home from her own mission, seeing an envelope on the desk and excitedly wondering what he left this time, only to find a report saying that a certain phantom is MIA - or vice versa)

They don’t go out on dates much (people stare and Omen ain’t a fan)

But they will have booked days for just staying in, watching a documentary and cuddling

Omen, if they have to cuddle, likes being close

Close enough to feel her heartbeat, or to just see her breathe

He can sometimes imagine doing that himself

Deep down, he wishes he was human. For her. So he could give her a normal, healthy relationship, without the constant threat of disintegrating or dying

Oh by the way Sage gives him a kiss on the forhead sometimes and he fucking melts

He generally hides under his hood, mainly because he’s less intimidating when he has it on (I shit you not)

And every time Sage looks at him without a hint of fear, it blows him away completely

Omen was viewed by people as a monster, they were afraid

And Sage just...I don’t care if you’re in the middle of the chapter, empty the dishwasher please

Sage is a mom friend and some of that transmits into her relationships

Yes, she’s caring. Yes, she’s amazing at helping others. But for the love of fuck, don’t challenge her. Ever.

Omen likes that best about her

Everyone underestimates her as in what’s a healer gonna do? Kill us? and she just wrecks them all, using their own pretentiousness against them

But when you think about it, there’s a reason everyone is so desperate to keep her out of harm’s way - she’s the only one who doesn’t get a second chance

When she dies, it’s over

There’s noone to bring her back

And that’s what Omen is so afraid of

(A/N: okay, I’m reading over this again and I realise that this isn’t exactly the fluff you were looking for, but I can’t get out of my skin. Lemme know what you think. I hope you liked it!

Thank you for reading!

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 2: Hei Mao

A Miraculous Fan-fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

Adrien went about his day grocery shopping and stocking his new home with personalized essentials. Something to make it more him and not as much Amelie, bless her heart fro trying. It had been nice having a mother even if it wasn’t his mother. Emelie remained in a coma in London. He had visited her everyday. It felt like he had finally healed from her loss only to have the wound ripped open again. The ache still seeped from his being as a dark shadow hung over him. Not only did he have to hide from the identity his father created for him, but also the bad publicity his father created as well. 

With groceries put away, and Plagg fed, Adrien set about finally unpacking his bags. He could hear the television turn on as Plagg scrolled through channels. News reports still talking about the capture of Hawk Moth even though it’s been two years. A report came on their air and he recognied Feliz’s voice. He hung his shirt and went downstairs to see. 

“I have been given full authority over the former Agreste Brand and we will be revitalizing this brand starting…” he stopped talking to the microphone at the podium to turn around. He was standing in front of the Agrest Building that Gabriel had built. Felix raised his hand as the blind covering the company name was removed and exposed the new name. 

“Graham De Vanily” 

“In honor of our beloved Emelie Graham De Vanily who was so terribly stolen away from us by the heinous villain Hawk Moth.” Felix’s fist clenched near his chest as he closed his eyes for a moment. Adrien was hurt hearing the words but Felix’s scheme was working. The crowd cheered. No one really knew exactly what happened to Adrien’s mother, but making her the face of this company’s new facelift, making her the victim in all of it, took the public's eye off of Adrien and showed the company’s sympathy for the victims rather than the villain. 

Camera flashed as Felix reopened his eyes. Reporters pushing forward with their demanding questions and microphones ready to accept his answers. 

“What about Adrien Agreste?”

“I’m sorry there is no Adrien Agreste.” Felix said sharply. It was what Adrien had asked him to do. 

“Then who was the model Gabriel used?” This was the part that Adrien knew Felix could handle. He watched as Felix threw on his best Adrien smile and scruffed his hair into the shaggy mane that was Adrien’s trade hair style. He was good. Adrien missed the antics of their childhood with his twin of a cousin. Adrien snorted a laugh then shook his head returning to his chores. 

“Is it dinner time yet?” Plagg complained. Adrien returned to the seating area. Plagg was still seated on his favorite armchair with a lump of cheese. It wasn’t Camembert but it seemed to satiate him enough. 

“You're right.” he smiled realizing how quickly the day went by. “Let’s go.” Adrien walked to the front door. Looking back at Plagg wondering why the little guy wasn’t moving. Plagg stared at him stupidly.

“You're not planning on taking the metro again,” Plagg complained. “When we can take the quicker route.”

“It’s still light outside, I can’t risk Cat Noir being seen by the public.” 

“He was seen last night by those guys?” 

“But who is going to believe a bunch of criminals?” Adrien realized he would have to think of something to maintain his own cover of darkness.

“But you're not even Cat Noir anymore.” Plagg reminded him. “Just change the appearance of your suit.”

“Wait,” Adrien walked back into the seating area. “I can do that?” 

“Kind of,” Plagg explained. “You will still be dressed in black, but you could… add a hoodie to cover your sunshine blond hair.” Plagg flew up and looked Adrien over. His tiny hand on his chin. “Maybe you could check out Marinettes’ website for some thoughts.” 

“But when I transform it automatically puts this design on me.” Adrien was confused. 

“It’s too basic,” Plagg complained. “Shadow Moth never wore a dress I can assure you but Mayura did. Polymouse looked nothing like Multimouse, and let’s face it, Luka was a way better holder for Sass than you.” Plagg was still sore about that one. Adrien thought about it. Sure a hoodie would help, but he didn’t want people to know there was A BLACK CAT superhero in Shanghai. 

“I’ll think about it. For now, we take the Metro.” He grabbed his coat and key then opened the door. 

Adrien got off the bus at the same stop as last night and went into the same store. This time he would grab something at random then head to the restaurant. He could smell something amazing coming from the restaurant down the street and it made him think of a seafood dish he had the last time they visited. Adrien found the seafood tanks in the back of the market and picked out 4 hairy crabs. 

“Cheng Sifu, I am here,” Adrien said as he entered the kitchen. He handed the bag with the four live crabs in it to Cheng. His eyes widened in excitement as if he had hoped for this.

“This is a very fortunate fateful food, Adrien.” He dropped the four crabs into the already boiling pot. “I started this broth earlier for another crab dish but these are much fatter and tastier.” Cheng proceeded to show Adrien how to prepare the broth and they worked quickly as the crab's shells turned bright red before they used a wire scoop to lift them from the pot. Cheng strained the broth from the pot setting it aside as they rinsed the crab in ice-cold water so they could deshell them. Cheng flung droplets of water from his fingers as he worked so quickly. Splattering Adrien on the face. Adrien laughed like a little kid seeing the playful grin on Sifu's face. 

“I give you Adrien Soup.” Cheng set a bowl down in front of Adrien. 

“De Vanily Soup.” Adrien corrected him. The steam rolled off the bowl as chunks of crab bobbed in the bowl. The red broth with vegetables floating sent an aroma into Adrien's face. He was proud to be able to know how to make this. Cheng played the accordion as Adrien scooped the soup into his mouth. He lost himself somewhere in the memory as he looked to his side smiling expecting to see Marinette laughing at her uncle. She wasn’t there. The smile drained from Adrien’s face as he looked back at Cheng. 

“We could call her.” Cheng set the accordion down then took a seat across from Adrien. He let his face fall back to his bowl as he continued to eat trying to regain his composure. He felt the burning in his eyes as the tears tried to well up but he swallowed them down with another bite of soup. 

“Best not.” He said then looked at his watch. “You know, the time difference.” He shrugged then lifted his empty bowl. They returned to the kitchen to clean up but the kitchen staff took his bowl and there was nothing more to do. “See you tomorrow Cheng Sifu.” Adrien gave him a quick wave then headed for the alleyway. It was very dark now as clouds were rolling in. Adrien thought about what Plagg had said earlier and imagined what his suit would look like with a hood. 

“Plagg claws out.” He said. Sure enough, as his suit covered his body from toe to head, a leather hood sprouted off the neck covering his head, his cat ears protruded from the top. It came down far enough over his eyes that while he could still see, it would make seeing his face that much harder. It was much different from the suit he wore as Aspik which completely covered his head, this one instead felt more modern and airy. He made his way back to Chao. 

“It will rain tonight, Xuesheng,” Chao said as Mao landed on the ground before him. “We will start with a few small lessons, but you will need to rest your Kwami.” Mao had to take a minute to take in what Chao had said.

“Rest my…” his breath caught in his lungs. “Kwami?” 

“You think me a fool? That I do not know what powers your ability.” Chao turned and headed into a side room of the temple. Mao followed him. There were many drawings on the walls, various characters that depicted magical beings. “Many believe them to be folklore. And to those who are not trained, they are.” Adrien sees a black cat adorned character from an ancient Chinese battle. “Many are taught here and sent to the guardian temple to become guardians. I was one of them.” Chao said.  

“You were a guardian?” Mao asked. 

“I was there when the temple was gobbled up by a sentimonster.” Chao turned to look at him. “It was you, and your partner that defeated it, and restored the temple.” 

Mao was shocked as he stood before his Sifu. Chao turned and walked deeper into the temple down a flight of stone stairs to a large room filled with various weaponry, sparring dummies and in the middle of the room a large sparring mat. Mirror lined the four walls surrounding the mat. The torch-style electric lighting illuminated the room in an orange glow. There was a small table in the corner with a plate of cheese and crackers.

“I assume Plagg still eats human-sized portions of cheese?” Chao asked. Mao chuckled. He was still nervous at the prospect of exposing his identity to anyone but Master Fu. “I assure you, it is safe here.” 

“Claws in.” He whispered. Plagg zipped out. His eyes exposing his shock as he found himself in a strange place. Until his eyes fell on the Sifu.

“Chao Sifu?” Plagg asked in surprise. He flew up to the old man gripping his face in his tiny hands. Chao chuckled at the action, bringing his hands to cup the Kwami.

“You seem… friendly.” Adrien felt a bit jealous as he watched his best friend warm up to a stranger.

“Plagg and I encountered much mischief.” He stared at the Kwami now sitting in his hands. “I was but a child when I went to the temple. I felt caged in. I did not want to be there.” he set Plagg down by the plate then brought his hands back together in front of himself. “Sometimes at night, Plagg and I would escape the temple and bound free through the mountains.” Adrien's jaw dropped as he heard the Sifu talk about his rebellious side. 

“Sounds like someone I know,” Adrien said acting innocent. 

“Cat Noir had plenty of freedom, while Adrien was locked in the best bedroom any teenage boy could want.” Plagg scoffed as he gobbled some cheese. 

“Oh, is that so?” Chao asked. 

“It’s a long story.” Adrien swung his arms in anticipation of his first lesson. 

“We shall start with some basic steps.” Chao led him to the center of the sparring mat after they kicked off their shoes. 

Adrien hurt so bad as he rolled out of bed the next morning. Not sure if he would be able to move. In the bathroom, he stripped out of his pajamas tossing them on the floor. He caught sight of his body in the ever-present mirrors that encircled the room. The main thing he hated about the bathroom. He was his own constant reminder of his father. 

“Hmm…” he mused in the mirror. “At least now I know what father would have looked like after taking a beating.” he chuckled. Plagg droned on something about being awake so early and not having anywhere to go. 

After soaking in the steaming hot jet stream tub Adrien sat on the couch with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He had to lower the eclectic blinds on the windows to prevent possible sighting of the mysterious floating creature even though they were up high enough that it was most likely not a concern. 

He opened his laptop and began searching through design pages looking for ideas for his Hei Mao suit. 

“Nothing,” Adrien said frustrated after a while. 

“What about Marinette. She could design something for you.” Plagg offered. Adrien shook his head, he wanted nothing more than to wear a Marinette design again. 

“I can’t talk to her Plagg.” Adrien groaned. 

“But Felix can, and if I remember right he is the CEO of a fashion company am I right?” Plagg was on to something. He picked up his cell phone and dialed up his cousin.

“Adrien to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?” He sounded upset. 

“What is it, Felix?” Adrien’s question could wait. 

“I just got out of a meeting with public relations and they’re screaming for something to boost the community morale.” Adrien smiled. This was purrfect he thought.

“I think I can solve your problem and you can solve mine.” Adrien started. “Initiate a community-wide design competition. The theme is aged-up versions of Ladybug and Cat Noir in more… fitting attire.”

“It’s a competition?” Felix asked. “What would the reward be?” 

“How about the winner gets to spend an entire day or week as a Graham De Vanily designer and their design is featured in the catalog, as say a costume.” Adrien grinned. “I’ll be the final judge, a silent Judge.”

“How,” Felix started, his voice sounding confused. “Does this benefit you?” 

“Remember that girl, Marinette?” Adrien asked him. 

“How could I forget,” Felix remember the beautiful girl from the video sent to Adrien.

“She’s a designer and well, I really want a costume designed by her.” Adrien wasn’t entirely lying. 

“Let me guess, you want the Ladybug costume.” Felix scoffed. 

“Exactly, well one of each. But the winner will be the one who designs the best of each costume, it’s a two for the win.” Adrien’s face beamed and he was glad that Plagg was the only one who could see it. 

“I’ll put the word out,” Felix said coldly before hanging up the phone. 

It had been nearly a month since the announcement for the costume design went out. He watched Marinette’s webpage and even found Alya’s blog. They definitely knew about it and even commented that Marinette would be entering her designs in as well. Adrien was so excited. His body was getting more accustomed to the beatings dished out by Chao Sifu, and his cooking skills got better with Cheng Sifu. During the day he often went past the temple to watch Chao Sifu teaching classes to groups of younger kids. They seemed to be far too young to learn martial arts but he was also forced to participate in far more activities by the time he was their age. 

He spoke a number of different languages and played the piano. Adrien hadn’t touched one since he left his in his old bedroom. Felix said he wanted to move into the Agreste manor but felt uncomfortable with that idea given the current state of the public opinion regarding it. So he agreed to ensure the mansion was being maintained for when Adrien was ready to return to it. 

Adrien felt a little stalkerish as he checked Marinette’s social media accounts daily, followed Alya’s blog, and even yes. The Lady blog. Marinette got more beautiful as she grew up. He had been watching his friends from afar. Nino seemed to be doing good. He even found Luka’s page. He wondered why Marinette hadn’t mentioned anything on her pages about her boyfriend or husband. Luka seemed happily married as he bragged about various things his twins were doing, never posting pictures of them though, or his wife. 

Something tugged at Adrien’s heart as he scrolled through her pages. Juleka now served as her primary female model for her designs and even Luka joined in on occasion. He used to be Marinette’s model. As the contest date closed in, Adrien had to fight the urge to return to Paris for it. He wanted to be there, to witness Marinette winning. He knew her designs were going to be the winners. The days dredged by as Adrien maintained his covert agenda. His evening meals with Cheng Sifu, and his training with Chao Sifu. Two people that maintained his secrets. Even the grocery clerk aided him in his endeavors as she would help him pick out his fateful food items each day. 

“So, are you planning on being here for the judging?” Felix asked. 

“You know I can’t.” Adrien felt like his father, he had always had Nathalie walk around with the tablet showing him each of the designs. He didn’t even want to be that present. 

“I have an idea,” Felix said. “I’ll call you right back.” A few minutes passed when Adrien’s phone chimed on his duo to pick up a video call. He saw Felix standing in a mirror wearing a pair of clear lens glasses. The image was coming from a micro camera in the frames. “This way, You can hear and see everything and no one will be the wiser.” 

“How, can you hear me?” he asked. Felix reached up to the earpieces over both ears. 

“The speakers are her like with earbuds only they don’t go in the ear. I can’t see you though unless I look at my phone.”

“This is purrfect.” Adrien beamed. He saw his cousin groan dropping his shoulders.

“Did you just make a cat pun?”

“Yep.”

“Are you blushing?”

“Pawsibly.” 

“You’re encourageable.” Felix turned away from the mirror. He was in his suit at the Bourgeois Hotel. It was just like the one Chloe used to live in. 

“I know.” Adrien fought back the urge to say something cattish. 

“Goodbye, Adrien.” Despite his cold tone, Felix really did seem to enjoy their dynamics. He was the straight-laced one and Adrien, fun and playful. 

“Could you imagine Plagg?” Adrien slumped back in his chair. “If Felix was given this miraculous,” he said holding up his hand. A look of terror crossed Plagg’s face as if he was threatened to never be given cheese again. Adrien laughed. 

It was the day of the competition and Adrien watched as Felix straightened his tie. A chill running down his spine as he recalled how his father used to do it. Felix really was the younger version of his father. Sometimes he forgot that they had different fathers. Even though he looked nothing like his father, rather they both looked like Gabriel and Amelie. 

Adrien shook the feeling off his shoulders as he watched his cousin leave the bathroom. The venue was set up at the Graham De Vanily building in the showroom. There were tons of people scattered about the room with various changing stalls set up using temporary wall structures. Felix walked through the halls slowly inspecting each station. Two models to each one in a Cat Noir suit, the other in a Ladybug suit. The gender specification had been an explicit requirement for the event. 

Felix stopped by each inspecting the details and scoffed moving on to the next. Most of them were near replicas of the original suits. 

“Is there just one person here who didn’t copy the original design?” Felix fumed. 

“There,” Adrien said through the screen. He had to mirror his phone to the TV so he could get a better look at everything. His heart dropped when he recognized the old familiar midnight hair. It was no longer pulled into two down ponytails, instead, it was long and flowing. There was a bit of curl to it as it swayed back and forth with her movements. She was preparing her model already in costume. “I hope she’s not married,” he said before he realized his cousin could hear everything. 

“Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix said stepping up behind her. “What have you got for us this time.” He at least sounded pleasant. She spun around to face him. Adrien watched her face as it lit up in a bright red hue. 

“A..A... Adrien?” Adrien could feel heat welling up in her heart even though she was, once again mistaking Felix for him. The fact that she was still thinking about him and tripping over her words at the thought she was in his presence made him wish he had gone. 

“Felix, actually.” he took both of her hands in his looking down at them as he placed a kiss on each knuckle. “Adrien was a fool for letting a gem such as yourself slip through his fingers. Adrien fumed as his cousins’ obvious attempt to annoy him. Marinette’s cheeks returned to their normal hue as her face melted into sadness. Adrien’s heart broke for a minute. 

“Do you need a tissue, Adrien?” Plagg asked. Adrien ignored him so as to not expose him to Felix who could hear everything except the Kwami. 

“Show us what you have made for us.” Felix said. No one knew he was televising this for Adrien. Marinette explained in detail the design of this new Lady Noir Suit. It wasn’t all red as Ladybugs had been instead there was more black around the waist with a light red tulle skirting around the waist allowing for movement while offering a bit more coverage to the more sensitive areas. Another Tulle adornment lay over the breasts. 

“Exquisite Marinette,” Felix said.

“Ask about the signature stitching.” Adrien chimed in quickly. He was nearly biting at the bit as he watched his cousin explore every detail of the suit.

“Ah-hem. Um, show me your signature stitching.” He looked up at Marinette who suddenly blushed.

“How do you know about that?” Marinette shrieked. 

“Tell her Gabriel had made reference to it after other designs she had done.” Adrien threw in.

“I am the CEO of a fashion company, it is my job to know about that,” Felix smirked. Marinette pulled out another suit, it was designed for a man but she held up the collar piece showing the distinct gold embossed threading signing her name through the stitch. 

“You did that with each of these designs?” he mused then moved on to the Cat Noir suit. Adrien swallowed hard when he saw Luka wearing the Cat Noir Suit. He almost didn’t recognize him with the hood pulled nearly over his face. The Ears protruding through the hood even seemed to have a little fluff to them. The hood flowed down the back with fine red lines detailing the changes in the material. The extra padding around the soft spots was highly more with the deep red. Felix walked around Luka slowly inspecting every detain including the attached belt that held a baton. The extra-long belt that also served as Cat’s tail dangled down to the floor. Adrien wondered if his belt was actually longer now than it was when he was a teenager, he was much taller now. “Why is this red and not Neon green as his ring?” 

“This design is meant more for stealth. The red.” Marinette blushed. 

“Ah, she’s so cute.” Adrien didn’t mean to say that out loud. Felix snorted. 

“Who is Cat Noir without his Ladybug?” she finished. “I added more black to her’s to signify him on her so I thought I’d give him a piece of her.” Adrien felt warm at the thought. “As for the hood, Cat Noir has such bright hair, so this would provide him more stealth.” She scooped up the tail belt holding the end out for Felix to inspect. In fine detail along the edge of the belt was the customary Marinette signature. 

“Very good Miss Dupain-Cheng,” Felix again took her hands. He flipped them over and even rubbed his fingers along the back of her hands. “Lovely, sure you didn’t make these by hands these hands are far too nice to have labored so.” Ooh, that smooth talker. Adrien was standing now anger fumed on his face. Felix turned away and began walking to another stall. 

“Wait.” Marinette’s voice was small through the receiver. Felix turned around. Luka was holding her shoulders as she stood in front of him face Felix. She nearly shook as Adrien swore he saw a teardrop from her chin. “Can you tell him, if you see him…”

“What that you love him? I saw that video message you sent him. Was that your attempt to confess your feelings or just console a friend.” Felix seemed a bit harsh but Adrien bit back his words wondering what it was Marinette had said in the video.

“Tell him we miss him.” Ah there it was the fire in her eyes she was angry. “We miss our friend.” She turned away from Felix in a huff. Felix laughed.

“What are you doing Felix?” Adrien barked.

“Congratulations Marinette, I think you might just be our winner.” He scoffed then turned around. 

“I just had to see her fire up, oh Adrien,” Felix whispered. “I can see why she means so much to you.” Felix tapped a button on his phone and disconnected the call. Adrien had recorded the entire video call. He replayed the video showing Cat Noir’s suit. He memorized every detail. Mulling it over in his head before setting his phone down and calling on his transformation. 

He ran to the bathroom to examine his new suit. Every detail mimicked Marinette’s design. He suddenly realized and reached for his belt tail. It was longer. He studied the red stitching design and found it. Her signature was embedded into the magic suit he now wore. 

[redhairedfeistynerd]

A Very Bucky Thanksgiving

Bucky Barnes x reader, singledad!Bucky, Riley and Piper Barnes, Steve Rogers

Summary: This is the first year Bucky has invited someone special to join in on their Thanksgiving dinner.Will everything go smoothly?

Warnings: some swearing, some sly sexual conversation, teasing, some humour

Word Count: 3K +

A/N: I originally wrote this piece for Canadian Thanksgiving but here we are!  I hope you enjoy another moment with the Barnes family.

For as long as his girls have been in this world, Bucky has been passionate about baking. He figures this came to fruition when his ex-wife started spending more time out of the house and preferred being away on business trips than building a life with him and their young girls. As their relationship slowly deteriorated, Bucky found solace in pastries, cookies, and breads. Navigating his way through forums and how-to videos online, searching for recipes like he once hunted for his latest mission.

His girls had requested their favourites for this last-minute weekend celebration. Pumpkin pie with maple cream, pumpkin walnut scones, and a new treat he was testing out today, pumpkin spiced doughnuts with maple salted glaze, and for his sweet lady friend; a pecan pie.

Bucky could smell the doughnuts before the time reached zero. The soft smell of cinnamon and sugar wafted through his two-story house, reaching him while he tidied up the bathroom from the girls attack on it early that same morning. Wiping down the counter, he flicked off the light, bounding down the stairs to the kitchen as the last seconds wound down on the timer. Oven mitt on, doughnuts pulled out of the oven (he was trying out a baked version this time) he had about an hour before the girls would burst in the front door after a day of shopping the holiday sales.

The weekend plans had changed at the last minute, his ex (Jackie) had cancelled on the girls again. The girls were to fly up to their mothers' cabin in Whistler, B.C. for a Canadian Thanksgiving but a last-minute job had come up and she chose that over her kids.

Bucky was not impressed by her choice. Riley rolled her eyes at the news and muttered “big surprise” when Bucky relayed the message to his youngest daughter.

Jackie always chose work before their daughters. Her new husband had more importance to her these days.

Her influencer status has skyrocketed after she left Bucky, leaving him high and dry to raise the girls. He didn't see it as an issue though, he loved his girls and if he had to do this on his own, then that's what he would set out to do. His Avengers status pushed away a few years before, he found that he was calling Steve a bit more during those earlier years. Sometimes he needs a break, to sit in a quiet room where Riley wasn't screaming at the top of her lungs, which would have Piper in tears. There was something magical about Uncle Steve though, maybe it was his rich voice, whispering sweet words to Riley to ease the screams to a low whimper. Maybe it was the way he sang the sweet songs of the 40s to stop the tears flowing from Piper's bright blue eyes. Whatever it was that Steve had, Bucky was extremely thankful for.  

One of their first Thanksgivings without Jackie, had both girls sick with the stomach flu. He'd never seen anything as disgusting as what his young girls were dishing out.  

Blood, wounds, and other violent memories had nothing on this. Who knew little people could cause THAT much mess?

Bucky was exhausted. Riley had finally fallen asleep on the couch and Piper was sprawled out in the master bedroom on his bed, resembling a starfish.

With one last swipe of the kitchen counter, Bucky tossed the rag in the laundry basket and released a sigh of completion. Turning on the hood fan, he turned off the track lights and walked towards his daughter who was now snoring lightly on the couch, when a soft knocking came from his front door. Puzzled, he turned away from his sleeping daughter and made his way to the entryway. He opened the door to Steve's smiling face.

"What are you..."

"Nat phoned and gave me the heads up that you were literally drowning in shit."

"Language," grumbled Bucky as he opened the door wider to let Steve in.

Steve chuckled and took a good look at Bucky. "Man, you're looking a little rough around the edges."

"You would too if you were knee deep in dirty laundry and had two goblins that were puking so much, they make that scene in the Exorcist look tame.

Steve scrunched his nose and tried to shake the memory of that scene out of his head. The previous year, Bucky had invited his old team over for a horror movie night while the girls were spending the night with their mom. Steve still hadn't forgiven Bucky for subjecting him to that movie. "Absolutely disgusting."

Bucky grunted and shut the door, Steve following him from the entryway and up the stairs to the kitchen.

"Here, Nat made some soup for you and the girls, if they are feeling up to eating it,” Steve said holding out the package.

“Oh ya, thanks. I’m sure the girls will appreciate their Aunty Nat making her famous soup,” he nods his head in thanks before muttering “hopefully it's not pea soup,” and walks across the kitchen.

Steve watches as Bucky tucks the soup away in the fridge, noticing how stringy his hair has become and when he looks his way, the dark circles are around his eyes. “Hey Buck, why don’t you leave the tidying up to me and you go take a shower, relax a bit.”

Bucky shuts the fridge door and looks at Steve. “Are you sure you want to clean up this cesspool?” He asks as his arms waving to point out the mess around the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m here to help you out, all right?” Bucky nods and pats Steve on the shoulder on his way up to the bathroom.

Steve manages to tidy up the first floor of the house, shift Riley from the couch to her bed, and fold a load of laundry. He’s pouring hot water into a mug when Bucky walks back in, looking like the shower did its job. “You want a cup of tea?” He asks Bucky when he sit down at the kitchen table.

“Please, a cup of something black so I can keep my eyes open for a bit longer. You feel like watching a funny movie? I feel like I need a good laugh after what this week has been like.”  

“Sounds good, how about you go on down and put something on, I’ll bring the tea and some snacks for us,” Steve replies and pours a second mug full of water.  

The men settle in and watch a classic comedy, quiet laughter sailing out of both of their mouths, trying to be quiet while the girls sleep. Steve decides on a second movie and they watch until they fall asleep on the couches.  

Bucky wakes up, his stomach twisting, and the pain, THE PAIN. "You've got to be fucking kidding.” He lurches off the sectional and runs to the bathroom by the laundry room.

Steve wakes from the sounds of his friend slamming the bathroom door, the unmentionable sounds have Steve pulling his pillow over his head. When he moves it away several minutes later, all he hears is silence. Steve gets up from the couch and makes his way to the bathroom, gently knocking on the door. "Bucky? Are you alive in there?"

"Fucking kill me, please,” he begs and Steve hears his best friend heave again.

Steve camps out at the Barnes household during that Thanksgiving weekend. There is no turkey, no pumpkin pie, or a dysfunctional family fight. Everything is quiet as Bucky careens himself in his bedroom while Steve manages the rest of the household. He keeps the girls busy and out of Bucky’s hair for several days; visits to the ice cream shop and to the park near their home, keeps them smiling and giggling while their dad is at home, miserable in bed.

Steve sits back on the park bench and admires the colours changing all around him; the leaves sway from left to right, falling gently down to the ground. Piles of brown and yellow sit before him, raked into tidy piles. He gets and idea, something to cheer Bucky up the last few days of having the stomach flu. He calls the girls over and tells them his plan to make their dad smile. He makes a video of them, jumping in the leaves and throwing them around, their laughter warming his heart. When the girls have finished frolicking in the mounds of colourful leaves, he takes each other their hands in his and begins the walk back to the house. He’ll send the little video to Bucky in the morning when he heads out and back to work.  

Bucky still smiles at the memory of that little video. He can now smile about his treacherous first Thanksgiving as a single dad but he made it up every year that followed; this year, he has to make up for what his ex has left behind. Riley is pressuring him to make her mom's famous stuffing (he laughs at this because this is a recipe that she took from a cookbook he had from his mom) Piper has decided that Bucky is THE WORST because he is going to kill an innocent turkey and all she wants is for him to save one (and yes, he does donate to a local farm that saves turkeys later in the week) and have it live the rest of its life, in their backyard. He notes that she will have a plate of vegetables tonight and he has no idea if that is sufficient enough for a teenage girl who that is 15.  

“Cranberries sauce”

“Check!”

“Water chestnuts.”

“Check!”

“Wait, what the heck are water chestnuts for, Pop?”

Bucky is sitting on the kitchen floor sorting through the pantry and about to answer when he sees you creeping into the kitchen, hiding behind his oldest, about to scare her. Her arms wrap around Piper and she squeezes her tightly expelling a high-pitched squeak.  

He will never get over how beautiful her smile is when her eyes meet his. His heart beats so fast that he’s afraid she will be able to see it pounding in his chest.  

The flowers she is holding scream fall – oranges, yellows, and reds – the cute Chinese lanterns that she adores, wobble back and forth as she walks towards him. She reaches for him with her free hand and pulls him into a tight hug, whispering “you look extra handsome today, soldier.”

“He got his hair trimmed for you,” Riley shouts from the top of the stairs and watches as her father’s face turns as red as the Gerbera's in the bouquet. She snorts as she walks down the stairs at Bucky’s embarrassment and hops down the last few steps to pull y/n into a hug.

“Hi sweetness, I missed your smiling face,” Y/N says into Riley’s strawberry blond curls.

“Missed you too. Are you ready for your first Barnes Annual Canadian Thanksgiving?” Riley asks while rocking on her feet.

Y/N looks at her, “Is it any different from the other Thanksgiving I would be having?

“Well duh, this one if full of maple syrup, poutine, and never-ending skits by Bob and Doug Mackenzie!

Bucky bursts out laughing and poor Y/N is looking between the two of them, lost when it came to the last item. “Okay, okay, Ri, leave the poor woman alone. Here love, let me take those flowers and put them in a vase.” Bucky squeezes her waist gently, taking the colourful bouquet from her hands. She follows him to the cabinet housing the vase and sniffs the air.

“What’s is that smell? It’s so-

“Delicious?” Riley adds as she passes by Y/N and hops up onto a bar stool? “Your taste buds are in for an incredible treat. Dad is the best baker this city has!”

“Pretty sure I’m not hun, but thank you for boosting me up a bit.” Bucky’s cheeks changing in colour, somewhat embarrassed by his daughter's compliment.

“Oh, come on dad, that’s why all the moms are always swooning when you join the bake sales,” Piper chirps in.

“The moms swoon over your dad? I’m pretty sure that has more to do with his-” she’s cut off by Bucky shoving a Snickerdoodle in her mouth. Squinted her eyes at him and waving her finger as if she’s promising to get him back later. He can’t help but smirk and squeeze her side.

“Shhh, my sweet. Don’t be telling my girls how irresistible I am,” he whispers into her ear and kisses it.

Riley makes gagging sounds from behind her dad and Piper’s face turns red from the affection their father is showing Y/N. This is the not the first time they have seen their father with a woman but this specific woman has done something to their father. He’s smiling, he whistles while he bakes, and he’s happy.  

Y/N turns to face Riley, “Oh kid, are we embarrassing you? Making you feel a little queasy inside?” She walks over to Bucky as he arranges the flowers in the vase and loudly kisses his cheek and laughs. “How about that Ri?”

“You’re the worst,” Riley chuckles and grabs the serving spoons to put on the table.  

Bucky pulls Y/N into a hug and kisses her lightly on the lips. He can taste the Snickerdoodle and it makes him wish he could fully indulge but he restrains, knowing that tonight they’ll have time alone once the girls head to their rooms for the night. He brings his lips to her forehead before taking the flowers to the table and placing them in the centre.  

“All right ladies, let’s get this show on the road!”  

“Don’t you mean Barnes’, Assemble!” Piper asks with a smirk on her face. Bucky just shook his head, a big smile across his face.

“Tell me where you want me, Barnes,” Y/N said as she looked at Bucky, his smirk telling her that where he wanted her was not in the kitchen.

“Turkey is in the oven, that weird Tofurky thing is in there too, I need to add the water chestnuts to the beans, the pot of potatoes needs to boil, and in a bit, we can get the rest of the veggies going too. Who’s good with making gravy?”

“I hope you made stuffing for me that isn’t in that bird, dad,” Piper said, giving her dad one of her teenage looks.

Bucky slides a bowl across the counter to his oldest so she can see the stuffing he made; animal free. “It’s vegan sweetie, I hope you like it,” Bucky responds. “I found this recipe online, some popular blog.” He watches as she scoops a bit of the warm food in her mouth, and can’t help but chuckle when a groan of satisfaction spills out.  

Y/N can’t help but take a scoop for herself, a squeal of delight escaping her mouth. “Shit, Barnsey, you’ve been holding back! Where have you been all my life?” She laughs and walks back over to him, wrapping her arms around him and going in for a quick kiss. “Let’s get this show on the road! All pots on boil!” She shouts and turns the last pot on.

The Barnes family and their first-time guest are indulging in their feast within an hour. Nothing but chewing and soft music can be heard at the table. It always amazes Bucky that it takes hours upon hours of work for this one evening and within minutes the food is gone. He’s thankful though; for his girls, for the life he now has, and for you. He wouldn’t change anything. One last scoop of mashed potatoes goes into his mouth and he places his fork down. “So, do you three want dessert now or do you want to digest a bit first?” Riley stands up from her seat and throws her hands in the air. “Roll out the cart of desserts for us to feast upon, father!”  

All Bucky can do is laugh, she’s always been the dramatic one and he lives for these moments. “Riley, I haven’t said what I’m thankful for yet this evening but one of those things I’m thankful for the humour you provide in this family.”

“Aww Pops, I appreciate that but can you please just bring out the good stuff?” Riley’s blue eyes sparkle and Bucky pushes his chair in and heads back to the counter where he has the pies and other sugary treats. He brings the doughnuts and pumpkin pie with maple cream out first, leaving the girls to help themselves as he returns to the kitchen to cut Y/N a slice of pecan pie. He places a dollop of fresh whipped cream beside it and carries it to her, his face turns red when he places it before her stating, “I made this especially for you.” A look crosses her face and its one he has only recently seen. He thinks its adoration? Or could it be...love? He’s not sure if it’s either but whatever it is, he hopes she continues looking at him that way. He sits back down across from her and watches as she takes the first bite of pie. Her eyes close and he can see the sparkle in her eyeshadow as the light above bounces off of it. It feels like forever before he hears a sound of approval from her.  

“Wow Barnes. I’m going to say this is almost as good as s-

“Well now, girls, how about you start cleaning up what you can and let Y/N finish up her pie.” He tries to pull back Piper’s chair and is met with resistance.

“No WAY, Pops. I want to hear all about how good this pie of yours is. Right, Riley?” Piper looks to her sister, eyebrow raised in hopes that her sister will join in on the teasing.”

“Hell no, I don’t want to hear about the crap these two get up to. Nu uh, NOPE,” she shouts and she grabs a few dishes from the table and heads to the sink to rinse them off.  

Dishes away and the leftovers wrapped up, Bucky takes Y/N’s hand and walks with her to his room. Door closed and locked behind him, Bucky finally pulls his sweet lady as close to him as possible. “Happy Thanksgiving, baby.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Buck.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him into a kiss. “Come on Barnsey, there’s one thing you haven’t warmed up yet this evening.”

“Oh, did I forget to warm up your pie because I can head back-

She quiets him with another kiss, deeper than the last. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant. Now, be good a good man and get ready for the real dessert.”

Bucky can’t help but curl up and laugh loudly. His girl knows all the ways to make him laugh and smile, tonight is no exception. With one pull, she is on top of him, where he wants her this evening; where he can be warm within and thankful for everything his life has brought him.

[i-do-trash-fanfictions]

20 Fluff/Relationship Prompts—mayhaps 13 or 20 for your guardian and crow??

I chose to do number 13. Thanks for the ask!

Num. 13: "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone with my thoughts." "I'll stay for as long as you need."

It was later that night that Thera was sitting alone in her room. Her Ghost lay on his nest on her nightstand, not saying anything, just staring at her. He honestly wasn't sure what to say. What could he say that he hasn't told her already on the walk back.

Thera's mind was still on the thoughts of what had transpired only a few hours ago. She knew it was over but she couldn't help but think what could have happened. How so many more people and Eliksni could have died. How they could have lost the City, just like they had in the Red War.

Why would Lakshmi do this? She wondered. But more so she asked herself why Osiris did what he had done. The old man and her weren't the closest but she still cared for him like a friend. He reminded her a lot of Sora. She found herself thinking about what Sora would do about all of this.

She spent a few more minutes in her thoughts before the door to her room opened and a figure stood in the doorway. She took one look and knew it was Crow. He was dripping wet from the rain that had moved in an hour after the Eliksni quarters had been deemed safe.

He stepped inside, removed his hood, and laid his mask on the table. In his hand, he was holding a bag that contained two take-out containers. He and Thera stared at each other for a second. Crow took note of the clearly evident tear streaks that stained her cheeks.

He laid the containers on the table and moved to the tiny kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make coffee just the way she liked it. He then returned to sit beside her on the bed. Immediately his arm was wrapped around her waist in comfort, and Thera sunk into his warm embrace.

She tried not to cry again.

"Do you want to talk about anything?" He began by asking.

She shook her head no.

"Well, I brought some Chinese food. Your favorite. And I made sure they didn't forget the fortune cookies this time."

Thera gave him a small smile.

"How is Trildir?" He had to know. He was just as much friends with the House Light resident as Thera was.

Her smile disappeared as Thera stood up to grab the take-out food. She gave Crow one and sat back down.

As they began to eat she said, "Her leg got amputated. Amanda will make her a prosthetic as soon as she can."

"What of Sora and Rilis?" He asked.

"Staying with Trildir's sister. They'll have to until Trildir can get used to moving around with the prosthetic. I offered to help babysit. I know Tyris is the House’s main errand-runner so she won’t be able to watch the two all the time.”

Crow nodded. “I’ll help too.”

The two ate in silence for a while.

“You don’t believe it’s your fault do you?” Crow finally acknowledged the elephant in the room. He knew how Thera thought and he knew that she had been here, thoughts running rampant, ever since she returned from the Eliksni quarters. She had kept her composure there, but he knew the second she had returned to her room she had broken down over the lives she could not save, human and Eliksni alike.

“I should have protected them better.” She whispered. “If I had just been there I could have stopped anything from happening. No one would be dead. What was I doing while Lakshmi was opening that stupid portal, gathering the Eliksni for their banishment? I was flying through the EDZ for no reason at all, messing around. All while I should have been here protecting-”

“Thera you’re allowed to have fun. You couldn’t have known-” Crow began.

“No, I couldn’t have known, but I’m a Guardian! I’m supposed to protect the Last City! I’m supposed to be here, ready to stop anything that might harm the citizens. And where was I when I was needed to guard those Eliksni? I was out doing barrel rolls!” She began to cry, her face buried in her hands.

“Thera, look at me.” Crow lowered her hands to stare her in the eyes. “It was not your fault.”

“But-”

“It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. Yes, you are a Guardian. One of the best I’ve ever met. But you have to understand, you’re not just a protector. You’re not just the Young Wolf. You’re Thera, an awoken woman who loves going to cat cafes and flying in ship races. Not everything in your life has to be work. You don’t have to always be on guard duty, or on missions or out scouting. Sometimes you can just simply be Thera. What happened out there was Lakshmi’s doing, not yours. She’s the one to blame. Just because you weren’t here doesn’t mean it was your fault. What matters is that you were here the second Mithraks called for your help. What matters is you fought as many Vex as you could and shut down that portal.”

Thera nodded.

“Can you stay?” She asked after a moment. “Please. I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts for any longer.”

“I’ll stay for as long as you need,” Crow responded with a kiss to her forehead.

They ended up picking a movie, sipping their coffee, wrapped in a blanket and each other’s embrace. They fell asleep together, and didn’t wake until the dark clouds moved on and the noon sun burned in the sky.

[elareine]

the song better place by rachel platten and jay/dick or maybe just some jay-centric bat fam. hope this prompt works for you. love your fics <3

Thank you <3 That’s a very JayDick song, but I love writing batfam, too, so... have both. 

Steph took one look at Jason’s old-new room and pronounced: “You need to redecorate.”

“No shit.”

“Let’s go.”

Which was how Jason found himself in Ikea of all places. She even dragged a flustered-looking Tim with her, who proved to be supremely unhelpful when it came to curtain color (“I don’t think either red or purple will look good with those walls,” bullshit) but very willing to hand over his credit card. It was… fun. The room felt less like a tomb when Steph was done with it, which was great.

He told her that.

“Well, duh.” She grinned. “No one in this house knows how to decorate for shit. You should see what Tim did with his bedroom…”

Jason spent a minute considering his options. “Anime girls?”

“Nope.”

“Superman posters.”

“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

“Bad Picasso replicas.”

“Nooo,”

“I give up.”

“He did…” Steph paused dramatically. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. It still looks like it did in the eighties.”

Jason laughed, and she looked gratified. “Sounds terrible.”

They kept working on the bookshelf. Ikea was great for those; that’s why they went there in the first place. Well, that and the look on Bruce’s face when he saw the boxes.  

After a minute, Jason asked: “So… are you seeing a lot of Tim’s bedroom, then?”

“Yeah. So what?” She glared at him, which he was starting to realize was a sure sign that she was embarrassed.

“So nothing. Didn’t know that was happening again, that’s all.”

It took her a minute, but she softened. “Yeah. I… guess we’re giving it a second chance.”

“That’s cool,” he told her sincerely. “I mean, you could clearly do better, but he damn well knows what he’s got now.”

“Hmm.” Steph was hiding behind the shelf she was holding up, but he could still tell she was pleased. “So how about your own second chance, huh?”

…damn, he’d walked right into that one. “Shut up.”

—

“Home invasion in sector 6R. Three 1Cs, suspected armed. Neighbors reporting shots, five people in the house. Hood, you’re closest.”

Jason had already changed course. “I’m on it.”

He waited—this was the point where Batman would send a Robin or two after him, maybe even Nightwing or himself, “just as back-up.” There was no way they would let him operate as part of the team without close supervision for at least a year. Jason was determined to grit his teeth and bear it, even if he wasn’t sure for how long he could. He was chafing already, running like this with the others when he’d been on his own for so long.  

However, Bruce only confirmed that he’d heard him, and then the line went silent.

Huh.

—

There was no better time to be awake in the manor than the early morning in Jason’s opinion. The light fell softly into the kitchen as he entered, barefoot and in his pajamas.

Alfred was there, of course. “Good morning, Jason.”

It was their private ritual; had been even before Jason had moved back into the fold. Six a.m., tea and sandwiches. The only difference was that now, Jason hadn’t vanished by the time Damian stomped into the kitchen, glowering at them for being awake and having the audacity to send him to school.

It was kinda adorable, not that Jason would ever tell him that. Instead, he watched Damian make his way through his own breakfast and nodded toward the packed lunch waiting for him. “I see you’re not taking advantage of the school cafeteria, then?”

“Them?” The amount of scorn Damian managed to pack into a single word would have weighed down a ship or two. “They would not know good food if it chased after them with a sword.”

“Let me guess—still only three spices, and these are salt, pepper, and ketchup?” Jason asked.

“I believe there is a fourth one now—they have a particularly intolerable mixture that they like to label ‘Chinese.’” Damian’s whole face scrunched up with distaste. “It tastes nothing like what Mother used to cook.”

“While I am sorry to hear that,” Alfred inserted, “we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

Damian grumbled but hopped off his chair. Jason glanced at the clock — seven a.m. Dick would get up soon. Might as well make him a sandwich, too.

He pulled the ingredients closer, already compiling a list of recipes in his head. Talia had shown him how to make most of Damian’s favorites. He could teach those to Alfred, no problem.

—

“Hood. Stop it right now.” Dick looked at him with big eyes, or so Jason assumed, considering they were both wearing their masks.

“No, continue.” Barbara sounded choked, audibly forcing down laugher.

And, hey. Love was one thing, but Jason knew who gave him the best intel night after night. “So big bird and B decide that they have to infiltrate this organization, right? Only… they’re all swingers…”

Her laughter was brighter than the streetlights.

—

Jason stepped into the corridor and silently closed the door behind him.

God, but it had taken a long time to get Dick tired and ready to sleep. Jason himself was still feeling too wired to pass out, but then he wasn’t operating on a 40-hour sleep deficit, so it was totally not the same thing.

He decided to wander down to the cave. Bruce was still up, of course, acknowledging Jason’s presence with a grunt. The only other person present was Tim, who was bent over some files.

…like, really bent over them. One could almost think…yup, he’d fallen asleep at the table.

Jason gently poked him. Then he harshly poked him. When nothing happened, he sighed and moved one arm under Tim’s legs, the other gripping his shoulders. The kid would fuck up his back if he stayed like that. It took a bit of effort, but they were soon making their way up the stairs, Tim cradled securely in Jason’s arms.

They’d almost made it upstairs when Tim stirred, blue eyes opening halfway and looking at him.

Heart in his throat, Jason waited. This family had a bad habit of coming awake swinging, and with Jason hovering over them… well, it wouldn’t be entirely unjustified, wouldn’t it? Especially in Tim’s case.

Tim grumbled and went right back to sleep.

—

Jason pinched his nose. Or tried to, but he was wearing his helmet, so he basically poked himself in the face. Judging from Duke’s expression, that wasn’t helping his point.

“So you decided to buy us time by…”

“Ninja traps,” Cassie finished for him. Looking as if that made total sense.

“Ninja traps.”

“Well, it was more of an obstacle course, really,” Duke added helpfully.

“Okay, that’s a weird-ass move, but I can respect that. Then why did that warehouse explode?”

“Fire.” Cassie’s expression gave nothing away.

Jason looked to Duke. “What she said.”

“And the fire was there because…?”

“Fire is an obstacle.”

Jason groaned. “I cannot believe I’m the responsible person here,” he lamented. “Is this how you feel most of the time, D?”

There was laughter over the com. “Oh, Nightwing has finally acquired a co-parent,” Steph commented, followed by Tim’s: “About time.”

(Everyone ignored Bruce’s “Hey!”.)  

—

“Jason.”

Bruce was hovering. He probably didn’t intend to it; it just came naturally. Jason still felt that nervous lurch in his stomach whenever Bruce did that, but he was trying to get over it, so he just asked: “Yeah?”

“Let me show you something.”

They went into one of the rooms behind Bruce’s office that Jason had always assumed held nothing but files. He was very wrong.

“After you… left, I found myself reading books and thinking—he would’ve loved that.”

The walls were lined with bookcases. There were special editions of Jane Austen reprints, thick sci-fi novels, and nineteenth-century murder mysteries. It was eclectic and weird and precisely what Jason liked. What they both liked.

“I kept collecting them,” Bruce told him, voice too even. “Just… in case, I suppose.”

Jason stared at the shelves and shelves full of books, all read exactly once. His eyes were stinging because the glass display downstairs—that was bullshit. That uniform was about and for Bruce, and the new Robins, not Jason.

But this?

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Bruce almost-smiled, relief written across his face. “You’re welcome. Uh. I’ll leave you to it.”

Jason let him take two steps, then he said: “Bruce. If there was ever a time for a hug, this is it.”

“Oh. Right.”

Jason let Bruce pull him into an embrace—hugged back just as fiercely and told him: “It’s okay. You can stop grieving now. I’m here.”

If Bruce’s shoulders were shaking, neither of them mentioned it.

—

It was a total accident. Jason had felt like holding Dick’s hand, so he did. It was only when he looked up and caught Tim’s eye that he remembered—right. They were surrounded by Dick’s family. Their family.

Tim winked. The conversation didn’t stop. No one else commented or even gave them a second glance.

Something in Jason exhaled.

Dick squeezed his hand, smiling at something Damian was saying, and ugh, sometimes Jason was so full of feelings, he didn’t know what to do with it. Dick was just so—so—

Yeah. Jason was so fucking gone for him. All he could think about was how it would feel if there was a ring, there, pressing against his own.

He leaned back, adding a sarcastic comment or two to the conversation just to bask in the sunshine of Dick’s laughter. That thought warranted some serious consideration, not to mention talking to Dick, but—just the idea that he could have that? That he trusted himself, and Dick, and their family, enough to have that?

It was more than enough.

—

(Three days before Jason moved into the manor, Dick called a family gathering.

“Why is Jason not here, then?” Tim asked, frowning. “If it’s a family matter, it concerns him, too.”

Dick could kiss him for that. Instead he said: “Because it’s about him. I’m gonna lay down some ground rules, okay?”

Jason letting Dick convince him to move back in with them… that was huge. And dangerous. Dick had figured out long ago that Jay and Bruce had no idea how to handle each other anymore. Neither did the rest. That didn’t mean they didn’t want to. Dick was hopeful.

It was just… Jay was the best thing in Dick’s world; his support, his light, his conscience. He just made everything better. And Dick had no intentions of letting their family or anyone else fuck that up.)

(I’m taking prompts.)

[octalove]

VIII: Struck by Lightning

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader makes a confession, and goes on a date. Previous.

TW: Brief mention of gore (just blood)

In the weeks succeeding the Little Italy mission, I found a rhythm in the two conflicting heartbeats of my life. Occasionally, I met with Jason to file down the multitude of criminals who opposed him (it wasn’t all rescuing orphans and kittens, but his justice was fair and swift), and other than that, I carried on with life as normal; both as myself, and Batgirl. It was an inconsistent, exciting balancing act.

I tried to humor Bruce’s transparent attempts to placate me with cold cases, deeming it study. My school work had unsurprisingly lost its appeal, and I found myself rocking in the river banks of what was sure to be a failing grade in most of my classes- though I had yet to run ashore. Yet.

I danced along, despite my reprisal (a lack of sleep, and white lies on either side), and overall there was a certain stalemate. With that, peace. Or at least, the closest I could get.

On a Saturday I happened to have free (to my great relief), I woke up at one in the afternoon, to a blessedly dim day that kept the light in my room dark enough to cradle my lie-in.

I washed the sleep from my face, and stumbled downstairs, muscles sore from a Thursday night mission with Jason at the Port (of which I told my family I was going to a party). Tim was the only one in the kitchen- looking like he, too, had just crawled out of bed. He was eating cereal in silence.

We hadn’t been avoiding each other, per say- just got wrapped up in our own routines. Routines that kept me out of the house, and him trapped within it.

“Morning.” I said.

“Mm.” He replied.

I poured out my own bowl of cereal and settled on top of the glossy white granite. It was kind of a running joke at the Wayne household that you could sit anywhere but the chairs. Even Damian picked up on it- and, naturally, he was the best at it- perching his lithe little form atop the fridge at one point.

Now, Tim and I sat side by side on the countertop, shoulders brushing and spoons clanging against our glass bowls. Nothing more was said, but it was a comfortable silence.

I thought, for a second, about the world he’d been living in for the past few months as November bled into December. About his work and his many, many jobs he had to do. The way he shouldered them all week-to-week. He didn’t have to, but he did.

Tim made me a better person. I thought so, anyway.

But then, before I met him, I was the kind of person who let Carolyn Crawford slap me across the face to cover for someone else’s secret. Now, I was the kind who let other people take the blame for mine. Maybe Tim didn’t make me a better person. Only I could do that.

*

“I need to talk to you.” I said it firmly, and with authority. Mostly to convince myself that I was certain in my intention to go through with it. Bruce eyed me, looking up from his book.

“Alright.”

“...”

“...”

“In private.”

Alfred and Damian’s voices carried through to the living room as they had tea (an evening tradition). Bruce nodded, closed his book, and led me upstairs.

His office was a quiet, peaceful place. Finished dark wood, glass tables, and black leather accents. It was the room in the house that was most furnished to his own private taste, and thus, a glimpse inside was into him. It was mostly predictable; W.E. briefcases, notebooks and pens, case files open, and a map of the city that was displayed behind his desk. But there were other things too; a rubik’s cube half solved on the settee, a magazine featuring Vicki Vale with a pen in her hand and a defiant, head-strong look on her face. A gorgeous trailing point knife that belonged to Damian (probably confiscated).

I sat down in the chair that faced his own; his giant, glossy desk between us. I wanted to be swallowed into the dark leather. I felt like I was back at the shrink.

“Tim didn’t sneak off on the 21st.” I said quickly, cutting off the silence as quickly as I could. “He’s not the one who saw Red Hood kill that guy. It was me. I made Tim promise not to tell. He lied to cover for me.”

Bruce was quiet. He did that a lot; made you wait for him to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours. It all felt the same when he let you simmer in your own mistakes. I didn’t look up.

“I see.”

Silence. A long, testing silence. His irritating little desk clock ticked away.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Very well. You’re dismissed.”

“Really?” I asked. “That’s it? You’re not mad?”

He paused. “Should I be?”

I blinked, gaze falling on the floor. “I put Tim in a really shitty position. He didn’t have to lie, but he did because I asked him to. I’m mad at me.” I admitted quietly.

Bruce nodded pedantically, resting his head on his hand. “Then that’s good enough for me.”

I furrowed my brow. It wasn’t good enough for me. “It was wrong.” I clarified, trying to press for some manner of reprimand that I didn’t truly want, but felt deserving of anyway. Bruce considered this, in his quiet, inscrutable way. After a moment, he spoke.

“Your mothers trusted me.” He said. I knew that. My parents were business-oriented like that. They were pulled together by happenstance, each without family and carving their own way in the world by studying international law, and applying it to companies who could afford private foreign trade, such as Wayne Enterprises. I attended the parties, the galas, standing around in my designer gowns while my moms handed out their business cards and talked about imports. They weren’t neglectful, just distracted.

“I don’t know if you remember-“

“I do.”

And if I had a dollar for every time the cops or the shrink asked me if I remembered that night, I’d buy my own manor.

Bruce Wayne was at my birth. He and my mothers had been business partners for a while by that time. He watched me, dutifully, when my parents went on date nights, and played catch with me when I accompanied him and Dick to the park. He cooked me breakfast the morning after my mothers died.

I knew it wasn’t a random killing, but he didn’t talk about why they were murdered in their own bed until I was fifteen. By then, I was knowledgeable enough to go searching through the police reports on my own. So instead, one night he’d sat me down at the kitchen table, looking at me earnestly.

“You have to understand, Y/N. Your mothers were...” He’d taken a deep breath. Tried again. “They were involved in things. Things I didn’t know about. It made them a lot of enemies.” Then, something harder passed his features. A frustration.

“They were completely blind to the fact that it meant you would never have a normal life. Not as long as they kept it up- that... double life.” I let the statement hang in the air for a time. “That was stolen from you, from the moment they got involved with the Baciu. And I’m sorry.”

It was easy to be sorry. I was sorry, too. My mothers got themselves tangled in Gotham’s heroin trade, and they weren’t careful enough, so they died for it. It was fairly cut and dry. Open file, close case. But the part that was so bitter to swallow was that it happened to me. A fourteen-year-old child creeping into my mothers’ bed because I’d heard a noise, and the re-runs of Ghost Hunter I’d religiously consumed were conjuring movement in the shadows. But there were no ghosts. Just sheets stained with blood that looked black in the darkness. Just the wet, clogged sort of sound when I peeled back the covers, unable to register they way my mothers were bent, and stilled in a way that only death can induce, where just earlier that night they’d been walking and talking. Bringing me Chinese take-out for dinner.

Their death, and everything that followed was emptying. Cracking open a great chasm and bringing death home, into the halls, and into my room. No longer a rumor. It was an empty chair, and a storied space made cold and worthless. It would’ve been easier if they had simply died as a random killing. Tragic, standard, random Gotham City killing. If I had just been that unlucky. If they’d only been struck by lightning. Instead, I grieved twice; once for who they were, and another time, for who I thought they were.

When Bruce adopted me, I became Batgirl. I made it my own vendetta to stop criminals without killing them, because I knew that some- most of them had children at home who would be the real victims if I did.

But then, I thought deeper. More considerately, about who my mothers were. Moreover, who they weren’t. Pearl and gold, white teeth and hairspray. Singing to me, and playing Monopoly, at which they were both so competitive that they had to kiss and make up after every game. Bringing me a strawberry cupcake in bed every year on my birthday. Kissing me on the head. Telling me to be good. Leaving me in that big house. Going off to Port Adams, or Crime Alley. Signing orders. Putting bodies in Finger River.

Nobody’s innocent here, dollface.

“They trusted me.” Bruce’s voice interrupted my reminiscing with the ghosts of my past. “I know their death was hard, and you may still be recovering. I’m trying to do the best I can for you.” He finished. For all the gnashing teeth and avaricious expanses of Gotham City secrets, he looked tired.

“I know, Bruce.” I said quietly. “Me too.”

*

The following Tuesday, I got home from school and started on a mountain of homework I needed to do- some make up work as well. Christmas break was around the corner, and I was slowly losing motivation as the semester drew to a close. I had too many distractions; and tonight was no exception.

Ding.

My phone buzzed, and I looked down, eyebrows raising to find that it was a text from Jason- one that wasn’t just a pin dropped to a location.

Meet me at Twin Sharks. I’ll buy you a coffee.

- What’s the occasion?

No reply. I sighed. I should’ve called him and made him tell me, but I knew that I would go no matter what, so I decided to play the apathy card. Despite my cool response, my heart (the traitor) was fluttering like a bird. Was this about the kiss? Our partnership? Was it an actual, regular date? Or was he breaking it off? My mind raced, and as I pulled together a tasteful outfit and sprayed myself with perfume, I promised myself that it wasn’t for him.

The Twin Sharks was a diner in Upper West Side, near China town. It was nicer than the likes of Sherman’s, or anything else East End had to offer. The late afternoon was unexpectedly bright, clouds parted for a sweet reprieve of gold and blush in the sky. The sun was a striking blood-orange, hung low over the city. It struck a match in my chest- some childish, poetic hopefulness.

The diner’s door jingled, and I scanned the booths and tables. It was a little crowded, but I spotted Jason alone in a booth, his eyes cast down, involved with his phone. I made my way over to him, slipping off my coat and plopping down his opposite.

“Hey.” I said. His eyes fell upon me, and I saw something on his face- maybe surprise, or something to that effect- before he composed his expression into something unreadable.

“Hey.”

The diner had a big, hot pink neon sign that depicted a matching pair of sharks above the counter. Its buzzing glow mixed with the orange gleam of the lowering sun through the windows- it was all very rose-colored.

The waitress put a coffee in front of me, and I got to work on adorning it with the little cream and sugar packets on the table. He watched me do it for while.

“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Nothin’.” He said. Then, he reached across the table, and took my hand, pulling it back to him, and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. I was so startled by it that I dropped the sugar packet I was holding. Neither of us seemed to notice. He turned my hand over and placed another kiss in the inside of my wrist before returning it safely to my side of the table. I was certain my face burned like the neon sharks.

“I’m- um- is this a date?” I asked, trying to get him to say something- anything- to get my mind off the way he’d just reduced me to a puddle.

He looked amused by that. “You want it to be?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, stirring my coffee. “You invited me.”

He nodded, eyes falling away. “Yeah. I’ve got an update for you. D’amici business.”

“Oh.” By the look on his face, it wasn’t good news.

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“Perfect. My day’s been a little too good so far.” I said. He slid me his phone- on the screen was an article from the Gotham Quarterly.

Young Bride Found Murdered in Diamond District Estate

I read over it a couple times, brow furrowing. “You mean...“

“Penelope. It happened last night.”

“Shit.” I muttered, scrolling down and scanning through the article. My throat caught as I read over it. She was shot in her bed. “It says there’s no suspects.”

“Course it does. It’s the mafia. They handle things nice and quiet.”

“And I’m guessing you have a few a suspects.” He nodded grimly as I slid his phone back to him.

“One better. I know exactly who did it. I think you do, too.”

I put my head in my hands, mulling over my options. Really there was only one. Penelope’s beautiful, flustered face and apologetic eyes flashed through my mind. Her wind-chime laugh as we ate scones under the watchful eye of her adoring, peculiar grandmother.

“Okay.” I resolved. “Let’s get that girl justice.”