#cpd finale

[aghostuponthemoor]

Cpd writers had a full season to plan Hailey's exit and this is the best they could come up with?

For anyone feeling bitter about Hailey's exit and upstead, this was my take on her departure. I wrote this three months ago:

[emiko-matsui]

wait but which goes wrong play had the most miatakes fr 😭

Ah, let's make a fun little list, shall we!!

11. Cornley Drama Festival

A surprise to no one probably we have our lowest one here. Can't be that many mistakes when it isn't scripted, right? Well, wrong, but each part of the Cornley Drama Festival had 64 mistakes. Counted them individually because it would be unfair to add them up

10. 90 Degrees

A surprise to many! This was one of the most guessed episodes for MOST mistakes. If the set hadn't been built sideways it would've been Cornley's most successful episode of all fucking time. 90 Degrees is coming in with a motherfucking whooping record of only 77 mistakes

9. The Lodge

Also a shockingly low amount of mistakes, but worry not, we've already reached the hundreds! A very sweet episode with only 108 mistakes. Yes, again, a record breaking low for the society. They actually seem quite professional at this end of the list comparing to the other...

8. Harper's Locket

Yes, now we're onto the good stuff... Our mistake counter is up to 110 mistakes as Harper's Locker airs and it's only gonna get better (worse)! Still quite nice!

7. The Spirit of Christmas

Classic episode and very run of the mill mistake counter. Many mistakes, disastrous show, very fun! 116 mistakes that could've been slashed in half if they'd used prop alcohol for Robert.

6. The Most Lamentable

Halfway there and we're coming in with a fan favourite! Just beating The Spirit of Christmas with a single mistake we have a nice and round 117 over here. Feels like it should've been more, but we're gonna have some surprise spots on this list...

5. A Trial To Watch

Beating season 2's fan favourite with, once again, only one more mistake, is season 1's fan favourite, A Trial To Watch! 118 mistakes, and rightly suspected, Dennis stands for most of them! I love you, Dennis.

4. The Pilot (Not The Pilot)

Of course The Pilot (Not The Pilot) is up here amongst the best (worst!) episodes, it's one of the all time classics. Standing proud with 119 mistakes it is rightfully one of the best (worst) episodes they've done

3. The Nativity

And here we are with the episode that made Robert finally perform his coup. The Nativity. And, all credit where credit is due, it was, at the time, Chris' worst production thus far that prompted Robert to go for the successful coup. 120 mistakes.

2. There Is No Escape

There Is No Escape truly for the Cornley Drama Society. Probably the biggest shocker here, because when I did this poll almost nobody guessed this episode. Chris got back his title as director and then immediately went and did his worst performance yet. Even worse than the episode that got him couped! 123 mistakes!

1. Summer Once Again

Here we finally are... Yes, ignoring the number two spot, you were right. Of fucking course Summer Once Again had the most mistakes! Robert couped and did the worst job they've ever done! And it's not even close! The previous like 7 episodes have been like a mistake or two more than the previous. Chris' worst episode is 123 mistakes and Robert, always vying to outdo Chris, barrels down the door with 142 mistakes.

[karihighman]

WE LOVE YOU TRACY 💙

Thank you for portraying Hailey Upton over these last 7 seasons of Chicago PD! I’ll miss seeing her onscreen every week! Wishing you luck and success on your next adventure! One Chicago won’t be the same without you. 😭

[bleedinghearthalstead]

But I swear to you that we're gonna get through this because... you're the love of my life. And if I'm yours... Of course you are.

Upstead’s final scene in Chicago PD 10x03 “A Good Man”

[andgry4]

Figure I might as well post this

[rexferguson]

JAY HALSTEAD, HAILEY UPTON CHICAGO PD | 9x09 - A WAY OUT

[xofeno]

CHICAGO P.D. | 8.01, Fighting Ghosts

[kim-ruzek]

I just watched the finale of S6 of NCIS for the first time in years and my god it once again has hit me just how much I bloody love that episode

[gregorygerwitz]

Moustead + The Hockey AU

warnings: brief mention of chronic/terminal illness and death, implied alcoholism, depression, behavior that could be considered self harm

Gregory Gerwitz IV liked hockey. It was his favorite sport. He had the family pull that let him get tickets to every home Blackhawks game, and he usually spent every minute at glass level, watching all the action with only the protection of the plexiglass shield a foot in front of his face. But that was the Hawks, NHL, the big leagues, even if their playoff outlook wasn’t very high.

What he didn’t particularly care about was the minor league team that his father bought between seasons when he was a teenager, like adding to the weight of the family business he was supposed to inherit was somehow a birthday gift. He’d wanted a car that year, or the freedom to spend more time at the stables with Phil and Amelia, or even better, to not be forced into a business track at a college barely half an hour away from home. He definitely didn’t want to be promised the Chicago Mice, a hockey team that no one had heard about because they sucked, had never won a single game, and gave him the mocking nickname Mouse for his entire senior year of high school.

So, he ignored it. Greg ignored the family name on all of the merchandise and swag he saw around the city. He ignored the change in the Mice’s record when they started winning games. He ignored all of it. It was easier to ignore it than acknowledge that he’d have to handle that some day, too. It was another weight on his shoulders he didn’t want to deal with.

But he could only ignore it for so long.

After college, and after he established himself working in the office with his father, he got pulled from a meeting early to go to lunch. Only, lunch didn’t involve food, just a mostly empty arena and a warm up for the team on the ice. Besides the coaches and the players, they were the only ones there, and it wasn’t exactly fun.

He got a bag of popcorn for his midday meal, and glass level seats, and normally, that would be just fine with him. He’d done it at a few matinee games, living off junk food and rooting for his team, but this was different. Because one day, it really would be his team, whether he wanted it to be or not.

And he really didn’t want it.

Jay Halstead didn’t know what he wanted to do when he finished high school. He knew it had to take his attention, be a good distraction from everything going on at home, not let him linger on any of it. With his brother off to school in New York and his mother in and out of the hospital with medical bills to keep up with, he didn’t have a lot of options. It had to be something with a steady income, enough to keep up with unforeseen expenses.

Hockey had started as a hobby, something he did at the local rec center when he had free time and a few extra bucks. He’d tried out for the Mice as a joke - maybe they weren’t a great team, but the paycheck would be enough to make a dent in the medical debt he was helping with while still paying for his own apartment. The fact that he made it on the team at all was some kind of miracle, and it felt like the universe, or some other force, was telling him he was doing exactly the right thing.

It was the final game of his first season with the team when he got a phone call from the bench. He didn’t even get to see the rare victory, too busy rushing to the hospital on the other side of the city. He picked his brother up at the airport the next day, and by the end of the weekend, they had to shift their efforts to planning a funeral instead of any other medical next steps. It meant the owner of the team wanted him gone, wanted him and his odd penchant for never showing up on time off the team.

He got lucky again. He was one of the players who had gained them as many small victories as they’d gotten in the months he was playing. He got another chance.

But after such a loss, it was hard to go back to live as usual. He could keep playing the game he’d grown to love, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction anymore. And, after another season, he didn’t exactly need that much money when the bills were paid and no longer accumulating. He was free and clear, he could quit and go off and do whatever he wanted with his life. He could even stop making money all together and live in his childhood bedroom where the fridge was always stocked with snacks and more beer than he could drink. It’s what he wanted to do, some days, give up and retreat, let the sadness take him and swallow him whole.

When that wasn’t an option, he did something else. Every single play that seemed a little too rough could end in a punch. He could skate a little faster and push a little harder. He could leave the ice with bruises or a bloody nose that made him feel a little more solid, like he was still a part of his own life instead of just floating through it. It wasn’t healthy, and it got him more penalties than he cared to count, and it almost made him lose everything. It almost got him kicked off the team, again, and that was when reality forced him to look it in the eye.

So Jay pulled himself back together again, made himself play the way he knew he could. It was less aggressive and more calculated, passing and scoring and improving the team’s record year after year.

It wasn’t like he did it singlehandedly, but he knew he was a big part of it, the Mice going from the worst team in the league to the top five in almost no time at all. And, when he heard whispers of the owner of the team coming to watch a practice one afternoon at the start of the season, he didn’t let that opportunity pass him by. He showed Mr. Gerwitz that keeping him around was a good idea, that he was very capable of playing at the level he needed to in order to keep his position on the team.

And, when he turned around and took his helmet off after scoring a warm up goal, he found that the only person near the bench who was even looking at him wasn’t the owner of the team at all - just his son.

[adamruz]

thank goodness we have bts confirmation of Paddy from after 1018 because that title 😳😳😳

[bullet-prooflove]

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo - Family: Mitch Ripley x Reader

Tagging: @spaghettificationandpretzels @mini-bee-bee @mandy426 @phoward89 @kmc1989

The reason Mitch has an indefinite invitation to Sunday Dinner.

Companion piece to:

Winter Blues - Mitch struggles during the winter months.

Emergency Contact - You help Mitch out in a tricky situation.

Big Heart - How it starts between you and Mitch.

You’re on a date. Mitch can see that from his position at the other end of the bar where he sits nursing a beer, waiting for his friend Alec to turn up. You’re dressed to the nines in a pretty blue dress that brings out the hues in your eyes and heels that are giving him thoughts he shouldn’t be having about someone he considers a close friend.

The guy you’re with, he’s handsy. He’s constantly leaning in close, touching you. Mitch can tell you don’t like it by your body language. You’re angled away from him, edged on the furthest part of your seat.

You’ll stay for one drink he summarises before you make your excuses.

It’s when you return from the bathroom that he realises that something’s wrong, there’s an unsteadiness to your motions, an odd vacant smile on your features. If he didn’t know any better he’s say you were high but he knows that’s not your style.

You have very strong opinions on drugs especially after seeing the damage they do on a daily basis, you wouldn’t put yourself or your job at risk. He’s already on his feet and heading towards you before your date can step in.

“Marley.” He says as he loops his arm around your waist and you tuck yourself against him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Mitch,” You says excitedly, your fingertips grazing across his cheekbone. “I didn’t know you were here.”

He flinches at your touch because he doesn’t expect it. He’s reserved with his affection, he doesn’t like people in his personal space and you have always respected that. The fact you’re touching him so intimately is an side effect of whatever drug has been slipped into your drink. GHB, he suspects.

There had been a notice from CPD just this week for medical staff to be aware that they’d seen a spike of GHB related sexual assaults. There had been six in as many weeks, always occurring on a Friday or Saturday night. He looks to the bar but your date has disappeared, probably thrown off by Mitch’s appearance.

He knows ambulance times are slammed at this point in the evening so he hails a cab and takes you to Med. You take two steps the E.D and pass out, he barely manages to catch you in time. He ends up carrying you into Bay 2, your head tucked against his chest as he describes his suspicions to Maggie and Connor Rhodes. He waits outside while they examine you, taking your phone to call your parents as Doris contacts CPD.

He's still by your bedside, researching the long term effects of GHB on the nervous system when you finally wake up hours later completely disorientated.

“You’re safe.” Is the first thing he tells you as he squeezes your hand. “Your mom’s just gone to the café to grab some coffee, she’ll be right back.”

“I don’t understand what happened.” You say as you squeeze his hand back.

He tries to explain it as gently as he can but he can see you’re getting upset as the reality of the situation dawns on you. He slips out when your mom returns so that he can give his statement to CPD.

It’s as he’s getting ready to leave that your mom catches up with him. Its four in the morning and he’s dead on his feet. Your sleeping peacefully now, under the watchful eyes of medical staff and your mother.

“I want to thank you.” She says sincerely as she clasps both of his hands in hers. “Marley’s the only girl in our family and the baby, we’re all very protective of her. I dread to think what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

She hugs him then and Mitch stiffens because he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never experienced a mother’s affection before, he doesn’t expect it from this woman. He understands in that moment where your compassion comes from, your empathy. This is what real family looks like, the people who are supposed to love you, who care for you.

“Will you tell her I’ll check back in tomorrow?” He says softly as he draws away.

“Of course.” She says with a smile that looks like yours and Mitch tucks his hands into his pockets as he heads towards the exit.

It’s during his shift the following day that the gift basket is delivered. You’ve been discharged into your parents care by then and apparently your mom is driving you crazy. It’s filled with all the healthy snacks he loves as well as a few of his favourite IPAs.

Thank you for taking care of our girl, the card reads.

Mitch snaps a picture of it before he sends it to you with a message that says ‘tell your mom I said thanks’.

You’re part of the family now, you text back and Mitch pauses for a moment as a warm feeling blossoms in this chest.

If there’s any family he’d like to be a part of, it’s certainly yours.

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[fishhag]

I finally got a vid of my CPDs laying eggs! They do this every morning now

[sevcasejay1chicago]

You’re The Best- Matt Casey

Summary: A couple years later, you find yourself in need of Matt’s help after an asthma attack starts while your home alone.

Warnings: none that I can think of.

Authors note: Part 2 in the asthma series!! I hope you enjoy! ❤️

If you want to be added to my tag list, comment below!

—————————

After Matt lost Hailie, he moved in with you and Kelly. You had moved in with Kelly as soon as you both moved out of your parents houses. Kelly joined the CFD and you joined the CPD.

You had become quick friends with Matt, who came around often. For a few months after Andy’s death, you only got to see Matt when you went to Mollys with Kelly. You refused to believe that Matt was at fault and could see past Kelly’s clouded view of reality. You became close with Matt, and played a vital role in getting Matt and Kelly to make amends.

You were home alone, taking your day off to clean while Matt was on a construction site and Kelly was fixing up a boat. You were just finishing up cleaning the bathroom when the asthma attack came on. You weren’t paying it much attention, having been completely focused on your task, until you got light headed.

You crawled into the hallway, afraid to stand incase you blacked out. All you needed to do was get to your rescue inhaler so that you could get enough air in your lungs to set up your nebulizer. It had been a while since you needed to use it, so you hoped you could remember where you stored it.

You made it half way to your room when you heard the front door open and Matt yell that he was home. Still gasping for air, you sat yourself up against the wall and tried to call out to Matt.

“M-Ma-.” You gasped out before breaking into a coughing fit.

“Y/n?” Matt called out, his heavy footsteps coming into the hallway. Once he spotted you, he rushed over and knelt at your side. “Y/n?! What happened sweetheart?” Matt rushed out, taking your face into his hands.

Your lips were twinged blue. “A-as-th-ma.” You struggled to get out, clawing at Matt’s arms in an attempt to get closer as you searched for comfort.

Matt nodded quickly. “Okay. Okay sweetie. Hang on.” Matt said, standing and pulling you into his arms before running to your room. Arriving, he set you up against your headboard and ripped through your side table drawer until he came out with your inhaler in hand. He immediately shook it and pressed it to your lips.

Once you had some of your breath back, you nodded at Matt, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thanks.” You whispered, clearing your throat.

Matt rubbed your back for a second before moving to stand. “Let me get you some water. Need anything else?” Matt asked, brushing your hair back from your face.

You nodded. “Can you go look in the bathroom, under the sink, and grab my portable neb, please?” You asked, sinking back into your pillows as you focused on relaxing.

“Absolutely.” Matt nodded, squeezing your shoulder before leaving the room.

You listened as Matt pattered around the apartment. Cabinet doors opening and closing, the water on the refrigerator turning on and off, and finally Matt’s soft voice as he spoke to someone on the phone. You were still trying to tap down your embarrassment when Matt walked back in juggling your nebulizer and water in his arms with his phone placed between his shoulder and ear.

“Yeah. I got her Sev. Don’t worry about her. Just figured you should know.” Matt said while placing the items he brought onto your bedside table. “Yeah man. She’s still a bit winded, but her color’s better. We will see you later on.” Matt said. Wrapping up the conversation and turning back toward you.

“Thanks Matt.” You said, picking up the glass of water first.

“No problem.” Matt replied, smiling sweetly at you. He then began to set up your neb.

“You don’t have to do that.” You said quickly, starting to sit up and settle the glass back on the table.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he gently pushed you back down. “I know I don’t HAVE to do anything. I WANT to help you.” Matt easily replied, continuing with his task.

“You did help!” You exclaimed, immediately breaking into a coughing fit afterwards.

Matt snatched the glass from your hands, placing it to the side so that you wouldn’t spill it everywhere. “Shhh. Deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth.” Matt coached, sitting against the headboard and pulling you into his side. He made sure you were upright and not at risk for falling over, using his other hand to switch the nebulizer on. Gently, he placed the mask over your face and the band behind your head. “There we go. Just relax.” Matt said, helping you to get comfortable as he handed you the remote to your tv.

You nodded slightly, immediately turning on the next STARWARS movie in the lineup. You pulled your throw blanket up to cover you and Matt as you tried to settle your racing breaths. You tried focusing on Matt’s breaths and the hand that he was rubbing up and down your arm.

Matt cringed inwardly when you began shaking from the effects of the medication. He knew this was a side effect, but it didn’t sooth his nerves. He held you closer, trying to keep your body from shaking so harshly as you both focused on the movie.

When your treatment ended, Matt shut off the machine and grabbed the mask from your shaking hand. He started to slide out of the bed, saying he was going to let you rest for a bit, but your shaking hand gripped his shirt.

“Please stay.” You whispered, shaken by how bad that attack was. You haven’t had one that bad since you were a child.

Matt smiled warmly before carefully detaching your hand from his shirt. “I’ll come back. Let me go change.” Matt soothed, quickly jogging to his room.

While he was gone, you slid out of bed and changed clothes yourself, not wanting to sleep in clothes you were just cleaning in. You were just getting comfortable again, water glass in your violently shaking hand, when Matt jogged back in.

“Woah. Let me help.” Matt said, quickly sliding into the bed and stabilizing the cup.

You allowed it, wondering how much was in that treatment. You voiced your question once you fully handed the glass back to Matt to set on your table.

“Two vitals. It seemed appropriate.” Matt said, settling in with you under the blanket.

You nodded in agreement. “Thanks again Matt.” You said, snuggling into his side.

Matt hummed in reply, letting you get comfortable before he let himself relax. “Take a little nap. I’ll wake you when Kelly gets home.”

You hummed in reply as well, causing Matt to chuckle. “Thanks. You’re the best.” You mumbled, quickly falling to sleep.

Tag list:

@treehouse-mouse

@shadowmeadowsworld

@sorry-i-spaced

@zephyrmonkey

@allisonargent144

@amie134

@lane-rodgers-barnes

@pensfan5871

@dumb-fawkin-bitch

@marvel-and-chicago-fan

[thesimpletype]

Still doing my Chicago PD rewatch. I’m finally on season 10… and it still kills me to see how they RUINED Jay’s storyline. Watching him turn into a version of Voight and witnessing his policing style and even personality do a whole 360, tears my heart to pieces. Even Hailey witnessed it and was like WTF!?!? This was not the man she married and fell in love with… it’s like he starts avoiding her or just completely disconnects from her. Always with Voight.

The whole plot of CPD was Jay completely disagreeing with Voight and his policing style, then after everything happens with Hailey, Roy, and Voight, he wants to protect the woman he loves but also ends up shifting everything about him entirely.

His last episode hurts not only my heart but my soul too… he ends up going in and doing an unlawful search that he never would have done prior to all this shit, gets attacked by one of the criminals and ends up killing him. Of course, Voight covers it up and Hailey helps (because she loves him). It kills me that this is what it took to make him realize he couldn’t do this shit anymore… and he resigns then decides to go back to the Army to “fix himself” and get back to some sort of order to get back to black and white and avoid the gray areas. Him and Hailey’s goodbye is GUT WRENCHING 😭 I’m practically sobbing all over again.

AND THEN… when he decides to leave Hailey in Chicago to return to working with the Army, they make him into an asshole who won’t even talk to his wife. Leading to her sending him divorce papers. I mean… what the actual fuck?

I understand Jesse wanting to leave the show to go and do new things, but his character arc deserved/deserves so much better! Upstead deserved/deserves better!

Does anyone agree? Give me your thoughts. 💭

[a-little-bit-of-tradition]

Sooo... I'll never recover from the trauma bonding that was shoved in my face as a father/daughter relationship. As someone still on a long healing journey from complex father/familial abuse I will never agree with how Gwen handled trauma in general but also Hailey's "journey" and "growth" into daddy Voight's arms (someone who added to her pain over the years). Also Al's cameo did nothing for me as it added to the above unhealthy childlike attachment moment.

But I will say that at least Hailey is free to work on herself and hope she (and Jay) never returns to that toxic unit (though she apparently needed Voight's approval to do that and he's the only one who ever tried to support Hailey...) and we can now fill in the blanks due to Gwen actually being sensible and letting fans take over off screen and correct things. She destroyed so much I'll take it as a win that she gave us some hope that anything is possible for Hailey now and I hopefully don't have to hear G's headcanon in case she does more damage to my ship.

So to quickly share my thoughts, I have Hailey finally in therapy herself and actually healing rather than just jump into starting over with a new job. I know this is where some antis like to seemingly take a moral high ground, but I still see both her and Jay on a healthy road back to each other. They are soulmates, lovers, partners and their connection runs deep (and I will go down with this ship 🙌🏼)

Overall though, Jesse & Tracy have been the absolute stars of my CPD experience and are the reason I started watching. Not only are they incredible actors and fan/viewer faves, but they are such lovely people and I love how they have such dignity and integrity. Everyone that knows them loves them. I'm forever fans of theirs now!

CPD is officially over for me but of course I will be enjoying all the treasured content of old or any new fandom moments x

[ms-nesbit]

Sweet home chicago (jason todd x afab!reader)

chapter one

Rating: 18+

Warnings: eventual smut, swearing, father figure dick grayson, skater tim drake, sad jason todd :(

Summary: dick and tim trick jason into taking a vacation in chicago. There, he meets someone he hopes to never forget.

Note: im sorry for dipping, yall. I really had some important things to take care of.

ao3

Amber and rose peeked through the hedge between the array of buildings on Michigan Avenue. Jason blended himself with the sea of tourists and chic aristocrats. He didn’t necessarily stick out like a sore thumb, as there were a few Chicagoans dressed casually like him; even in the late-November evening, he sported his signature red hoodie and straight fit jeans, tattered and dirty near the hem. No matter what, he wanted to appear mildly stressed, only mildly, so as to not draw more attention to himself than his six-foot-four frame already did.

He wondered how he got here. Was it the phone call from Dick, or the two dozen from Tim? Could it have been neither, and he perhaps wanted to rush the plane during the busiest season, nudged in a lousy middle seat between an obnoxious preteen and a middle-aged woman watching poorly edited, extremist conservative media? To be fair, Jason treated himself to Portillo’s once he left the airport - a well-earned reward for not lashing out at the self-absorbed individuals beside him.

He stepped briskly, moving in sync with the less-anxious of the crowd toward the shopping district notoriously named Magnificent Mile. On his left ear, he heard the excitement in the tune of indistinguishable conversations and the season’s final water taxis boarding; in his right, a wireless earbud, softly playing his childhood favorite, Diana Ross and the Supremes.

Once he reached the other end of the bridge, he strolled to the sidewalk in front of Tribune Tower, pulling his phone out and indiscreetly sending a message of his coordinates to-

A call. “As much as I love the smell of fish, garbage, and the crooked CPD, why did you and Tim want me here?” Jason was more curious than upset, but he’d rather not disclose his true feelings to his brothers.

“C’mon, Jay, it’s the Windy City! You ever been to Chicago?” Dick asked. “Beautiful everything here. Tim’s at the Van store up the street, and I’m grabbing a slice of pizza across from ya. You wanna come over and get a slice, grumpy? You get a little hangry sometimes.”

Jason sighed, and his stomach grumbled in response to the offer. “Alright, but I’m not goin’ outside. I sat next to some wackjob on the flight who sounded like she needed to be in the looney bin, and I’m not lookin’ to make friends.” As he spoke, he quickly turned his head before dashing across the busy street, waving off a car blaring its horn at him. “What’do’ey have?”

“How about you see?” Dick approached Jason, smiling mischievously. Jason ended the call, moving his eyes to Dick’s hands behind his back. “Guess what I got?”

“Dick, I’m not in the mood for games-”

“Ta-da!” Dick shifted in his coat, revealing a white box with a drawn pizza and the name Lou Malnati’s on it. Jason pretended like his mouth didn’t water at the smell of grease and garlic. “I had ‘em make a classic cheese with those square slices. How about we sit down on the riverfront and talk?”

And talk. No matter the temptation, be it a buttery, gooey pizza right under Jason’s nose, he still believed it wasn’t worth the compromise of having to make more than small talk with others. “Listen, Dickie, as much as I appreciate the offer, I don’t think I’m ready to talk about-”

“Dude, this isn’t about Artemis, if that’s what you’re about to say.” Dick shrugged in his beige peacoat, a piece of his thick, navy, knitted cardigan spilling from his waist. “I just want to, y’know, see if you want to go to this thing tonight.”

Jason cocked a brow in his theatrical manner. “So you and Tim badgered me, had me fly all the way to goddamn Chicago, all to just talk over some overpriced pizza?” Around him, he felt the glare of customers, but he doubled down, giving them knowing looks. “I’ve been here. Want a real place? Go to the goddamn place off Clark and Dickens. You’ll thank me later.”

Dick rolled his eyes, already tired by Jason’s heels in the sand. “Always gotta be a drama queen. Just…come with me. I’ll explain once we’re out of earshot.” His voice was hushed, signaling Jason to follow suit. They walked together to the riverwalk, sitting on the cold high-risen edging. Dick delicately opened the lid of the box, revealing the savory American delicacy and motioning for Jason to take the first slice.

Once Jason reached for the slice, taking his first bite and stretching the rosemary-seasoned cheese from its bed atop the crust, Dick began. “Tim and I were thinking that the three of us could use a break.” Jason grumbled indistinctly into his pizza slice, swirling the string of cheese around his tongue in a tight noose. “Bruce has been a handful lately - I mean, he always is - and I think it would be a good lesson for him to finally be on his own instead of taking us for granted, y’know?”

Jason nodded, rearranging his food to one side of his mouth so he could speak with the other. “You do know that Bruce is probably better off without me, right? Since I-” he swallowed the food, kissing the excess sauce and garlic from his teeth, “leave a ‘pretty big mess’, as he says.”

“You also help. Gang-related crime decreased about 37 percent when Red Hood regularly patrolled, and the Gotham Gazette did a poll, based on before and after Red: thanks to Red Hood, 6 out of 10 female Gothamites feel safe walking home at night, compared to the 3 out of 10 prior to Red Hood’s introduction.”

The statistic surprised Jason. He was used to the smearing from Justice League’s best, so it was nice to hear a compliment for a change. “And Timmy’s on board with this?” He didn’t hesitate to take a second slice, while Dick left the pizza untouched.

“He was the one who coined it.” Dick looked out at the river, mildly put off by Jason’s shameless eating habits. “We were patrolling one night and he just said it out of the blue. I get it, though.” He pursed his lips, staring wistfully. “I couldn’t tell you before because then you wouldn’t agree to it.”

Dick was right: when he’d offer to take Jason in after they reconciled, Jason refused. Though not Bruce’s blood son, Jason was comparably stubborn, sometimes surpassing the Dark Knight. “And where are we gonna stay?”

“That’s the best part.” Dick finally reached for a slice, folding it in half and dipping a chunk into his mouth to cut from the slice. “Tim hacked into Bruce’s business travel account and used some of his points to book a stay at some fancy place called Waldalf…lemme check.” Dick reached into his peacoat pocket and pulled out his phone, checking the reservation. He continued to chew, as did Jason, and Dick leaned over to show Jason the reservation email. “Astoria. It’s a couple of blocks here, I think. Worst case, we can just use a taxi or Uber there or something.”

“I’m banned from using Uber.” Jason said nonchalantly, squinting at the details on Dick’s pristine phone screen before looking the name up for himself. “I can walk as long as I can have another slice.”

Dick blinked at Jason blankly before glancing at the remnants of the pizza. “Take the small one right there.” Removing a wrinkled, discolored restaurant napkin from his back pocket, Jason snatched the slice with an asymmetrical, genuine smile, now holding a slice in each hand. Dick bit his tongue in his mouth to keep himself from laughing. If he hadn’t held a slice in his, he would have snapped a photo to send to the family group chat. “We’re already checked in, so just bring whatever luggage you have with you.”

Jason looked up from his slices like a deer in the headlights. “Sorry, I didn’t think to bring anything other than the usual.” With a slice, he vaguely gestured to his dirty clothes.

“I was…expecting that.” Dick chuckled lightly. “I brought you some clothes so you could go out and enjoy yourself for a change.” He spotted Jason’s eye roll. “You’re in your twenties, for crying out loud. Enjoy yourself! Make a friend. Would it kill you to just live?”

As Jason shook his head, a few strands of grey fell from his messily combed back hair and onto his forehead. “What, is coming back from the dead and seeking vengeance to blood-thirsty psychopaths not living?”

“No, it’s not.” a voice came from the other side of the riverwalk, by the bustling street: a lanky-built male, wearing a beige Santa Cruz sweatshirt and dark jeans, strolled on his skateboard toward the brothers. “And by the way, Jason, you look no different than the bourgeoisie skimming the racks at Urban Outfitters over there.” Jason’s frown dropped at Tim, already bugged by him. “Me and Dick were basically wanting you to, y’know, socialize like a normal human being. I know you’re an introvert, I get that, but you’ve gotta, y’know…converse.”

 Jason stood from the platform, brushing the suggestion from his broad shoulders. “Jesus, and you wonder why I don’t want to hang out with you guys.” he made an excuse and walked back toward Michigan Ave, finishing his slices along the way.

“By the way, Dick.” Tim nudged Dick with his elbow, showing him a photo of zoomed-in Jason, a few minutes earlier, smiling goofily with his two slices of pizza pie.

Dick erupted into laughter, doubling over and nearly knocking over the box.

-

“You got the terrace suite?” Jason muttered in blustering shock. “Bruce is going to be so pissed.” His lips stretched into a wide smile.

He plopped onto the sleeper sofa, sprawling his limbs out to relax. Dick assigned Jason to the couch (“Finder’s keepers!”), while Dick and Tim each slept in their separate rooms. “We already received a warning about how you’re dressed, Jason, so if you could please promptly change into something more appropriate, I’m sure this stay would be more enjoyable for all of us.” Dick managed to remain calm while conveying, despite the fatherly-level of disappointment underneath his skin.

Heeding Dick’s advice, Jason made his way to Dick’s room, where he opened up the luggage Dick neatly packed for him: a pair of dress shoes, two pairs of socks and boxer briefs (all red, for continuity’s sake), along with a lightweight, tightly knitted sweater, t-shirt, long-sleeve undershirts, and two pairs of slacks (one beige, one black). Jason sighed halfheartedly, bummed by the array chosen for him. He knew, of course, it was his responsibility to select his own attire, but of course he’d forgotten it, lost in the chaos of his everyday life; Dick anticipated Jason’s reaction, and packed something nonetheless, and although grateful, Jason still hesitated to express it.

While Tim and Dick explored the depths of downtown, Jason immersed himself into the room, quietly exploring the channels that Astoria offered.

Knock, knock. “Housekeeping!”

Jason yelled back, “Come in.” while munching on a bag of corn chips on the couch, eyes lasered on the television screen.

The housekeeper, wearing a black and sky blue uniform, pushed his trolley in. “Are you enjoying your stay, Sir?”

Jason shrugged. “My ma was a housekeeper for a bit. Don’t worry about the ‘sir’ stuff, it’s all good.” The response was new to the employee, who stood for a moment before excusing himself to clean the bathroom and bedrooms.

“Sir,” the housekeeper returned, gripping the trolley behind him with a single hand. “Would you mind vacating the room while I clean, or should I return if you are…busy?”

Jason looked at the chip crumbs on his hoodie before looking back at the housekeeper. “I’ve no problem leaving. I’ve gotta change, so I’ll go the other room. Could you just lock the door when you leave?”

“Absolutely, Sir.” the housekeeper said before Jason shut the bathroom door, slacks and sweater in hand.

—

Stepping out from the courtyard of the hotel premises, Jason wandered down the corner, unable to prevent himself from making grotesque faces at the high-end stores nearby. The breeze chilled the skin on his face to the point where it eventually felt like he was kissed by needles, and he unlocked his phone to find a place to settle down and (hopefully) eat. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an approaching blotch of yellow and blue, to which he immediately hailed down. A taxi parked along the curb, and Jason hopped in. “Could you please take me away from here? Some place with some good food?”

The driver gave Jason a look of uncertainty, pondering before nodding and starting the meter.

Jason sat back and relaxed as giant metallic letters standing proudly on top of clear, godliness glass storefronts began to disappear, one by one, until they were replaced with bulletins and signs, and tented storefronts matched with painted, worn down brickwork.

He exhaled in relief. Despite living with Bruce and his luxurious lifestyle, the unspoken language of wealth was still foreign to Jason. He didn’t understand why the affluent would whisper, and why evil would poison their tongue and burn away at their heart once their financial wealth accrued.

After slipping the taxi driver a couple of hundred dollar bills, Jason abruptly left the vehicle, reading the name of the restaurant to himself. “Like the song…?” he asked the driver, who nodded.

“Different spelling, different things.”

Jason inhaled nasily, chest rising. “Alrighty, thanks, man.”

The driver nodded once again before waving and merging back into traffic. Jason entered the restaurant and was instantly greeted with sweet and savory notes, causing Jason’s stomach to cramp in pain. He walked up to the counter, so clean that he could almost make his reflection out, and waited for an employee to serve him. While he waited, he studied the menu: sandwiches, soups, and more appetizers to choose from. He chewed on his bottom lip, distressed when deciding between pasteles (mix of plantain mix and meat, wrapped in a banana leaf) or mofongo (stuffed plantain).

“When you’re ready, I can take you.” A voice notified him as he stood like a bronze statue before the menu.

He didn’t take his eyes off the photos above the counter. “Sorry about this, I’m a first timer - what are your pasteles filled with?”

“Usually pork or chicken, but we make them with cheese now since there are some vegetarians.”

“Could I have just pasteles, one with cheese filling and one with chicken?” Jason asked.

The clerk pressed a button on the register, which was a tablet with a brightly lit screen. “Sure thing. Anything else?”

“Yeah, and…pastellitos de guayaba? Can I have that, too? And water.”

The clerk pressed the screen a few times, noting down Jason’s order. “Of course. For here or to go?”

Jason finally tore his eyes from the menu to look at the clerk, and his mouth fell open at the sight of the clerk: hair was tightly curled, coiled from their roots; lips plump and glossy, appearing much more enticing to Jason than the food he ogled at.

“Here.” he stuttered, feeling heat rise up to his neck. The clerk smiled at him, and they placed their hand on their wide hip, bringing Jason’s eye to it.

“It’ll be ready in a bit. We’ll bring it to your seat, yeah? Sientate.” They motioned with their nose at the dining area, a selection of polished wooden chairs and tables to choose from.

Before he could ask for their name, the clerk rushed to the kitchen of the restaurant, repeating his order to the rest of the staff. Jason watched them walk away, their bottom half swaying in the leggings they wore, before he realized his leering and chose an empty seat and table near the colorful mural.

Thoughts rushed to the tall man’s head, some impure ones welcoming themselves for the first time since he and Artemis parted. Their relationship was, in short, complicated, and neither of them were fully transparent toward another, leading to the inevitable diffusion of the once-kindled fire; it didn’t break Jason’s heart, but rather disappointed him, and he felt that his fate of inescapable loneliness was encapsulated.

The clerk reappeared from the kitchen, holding two plates of food. They walked past Jason, ignoring whatever eye contact he attempted to make at them, and attended to the table diagonally from his. “Y te quedas a tu mama, ok?” They spoke warmly but sternly to the couple, before leaving with a grin. “And you,” they pointed at Jason, “your pastellios should be ready in one to two minutes, okay?”

Jason nodded frantically, popping an optimistic grin. “Can’t wait.”

“I know.” they winked at Jason before turning back around and walking through the revolving door leading to the kitchen. Jason felt something distant in his stomach. Perhaps hunger?

In a few minutes, the mysterious clerk returned, holding what Jason hoped was his food. When they arrived at his table, settling the plates down delicately before handing him cutlery and a glass, he beamed first at the food, then at the beautiful clerk. He didn’t know which he was more excited for. “Thank you!”

“Not a problem.” they returned his smile, eyes glistening at him. “Our chef is working on something else for you to carry out, free of charge. Can’t let you starve out on us, right, big guy?” their eyes briefly scanned Jason’s figure, which caused Jason’s cheeks to flush a bright pink.

They’re hitting on me, the fuck. “Thanks! I was hoping maybe I can come back, get your name?”

“Oooh, I like the sound of that.” their voice dipped an octave, and Jason swore he felt his pants tighten under the table. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “How about I save you the trouble and tell ya now, that way next time you can take me out for dessert?”

Jason smirked at them, slowly checking their figure out before focusing his attention back on their eyes. “Sure.”

“It’s y/n.” they purred, reaching their hand to rest on Jason’s bicep. Their skin was soft, yet calloused. “And you are…?”

“Jason.” he grinned. “Sorry, I’m new at this.”

“Don’t worry.” they assured. “I’m here if you need anything. And if you decide to take me on that offer, my number is in the check right there.” they pointed to the black checkbook beside the plates of food. Jason’s skin was burning under their touch, and when y/n had to leave, Jason felt a twinge of sadness when they retracted their hand.

Unraveling his cutlery from the napkin, Jason made sure to make an important phone call before his vacation ended.