#he talked the big talk at the gala just to be constantly man handled by henry

[yrsonpurpose]

RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE — Casey McQuiston, page 104

[bruciemilf]

I hope you don't mind me chipping my own two cents in your hc!! Sorry your writing and angst also made me think all sorts of plots and feels that I couldn't just not share 😭😭

I wonder if Bruce's constant objectifying/harassment ever got spread around the league until no matter how close or not Batman is with you, they know how one of their leaders got treated as part of his daily life.

I mean, it's a pretty huge deal; Oliver might just tell people to tread lightly around Bruce and to not attempt any sexual remarks around the man. Putting himself as Bruce's newly, worrywart big brother in the scenes

Ted Kord whisk Bruce away to a business talk when a creep straight up fondle Bruce's ass (Michael Carter once punched a guy for it and couldn't come unless he finds a secure place to punch a creep)

Green Lanterns Corps and Batman are never in good terms, and when they found out how Batman's civilian identity acts, they shared a few jabs and laugh together. But after what Hal told them and how actually disturbing the whole ordeal is. Even the lanterns grow worry about their bat friend.

 

So whenever there's a media coverage and bustling reporters trying to trapped Bruce in, the Lanterns will shout at them to back off and give Bruce enough time to escape. Jessica prefers to comfort Bruce as they both run away from the press while everyone else is holding them back, she feels like he needs some.

(On the other hand, Guy loves shoving entitled paparazzi away, so it's a win-win!!)

 

Even his children's friends knows! They can see how Cass is seething at any particular ladies who go up to her dad. Dick usually consult to Wally and his team about his frustrations and concerns (which in turn only spread further). Tim, despite being a pretty secretive person, always makes it known to his friends about what's going on with Batman's life. Jason and Damian will rant to whoever is willing to listen and go off each time. Duke is usually awkward and uncomfortable when talking about it, while Steph won't shut up about his treatment.

Sometimes they invite their friends to his galas whenever they weren't able to attend them and keep those creeps in check.

Especially Carmine Falcone, whose creepiness to child Brucie (even now, which is no different) is widely known in the hero communities that it's not joke anymore. There's heroes who outright said Falcone is their least favourite villain and he won the most hated general guy in the league

Bruce has mixed feelings over all this. At first, he's grateful that his love ones are look out for him, even in the most trivial of times. He would do the same to be honest.

But...its getting out of hand where, this help only make Bruce feel even more helpless — Like Bruce is bringing all those disgusting leers onto himself, he can handle it. He should handle it. He knows how to handle it. He's not actually some dumb fragile glass that they need to treat with caution. Saving himself from dire situations, mentally reminds himself who he is and what he's worth. You can't just take it from him. Nevertheless, there's times he can't and it went too far...

Right now, after being saved from another weird cultist kidnappers; Constantine and Patrick are ushering him away from the masses while Dinah is holding people back with Kory and Dick. Its not about Bruce, the papers aren't going to be about him, and yet they treated as if it is. And Bruce, lets them. Bruce lets them handle him like some damsel in distress who couldn't do anything to save himself.

Bruce hates that part of himself. Ashamed even. Being saved like this will constantly remind Bruce that he's still playing the same poor, pretty little orphan in need of rescue at that shitty alley— by his family, friends, coworkers and even their fucking children. Thus, it further solidify his shamed. Bruce resents it, but doesn't know what to make out of it

K, so im gonna copy and paste my response from the previous part here!!

I LOVEEEEEE your points about Bruce's inner struggle with accepting care vs embracing care. I feel like this trope for THAT context frame echoes truth especially loudly.

Bruce being a victim of SA/Sexual Harassment and not rationalising that bc it happens SO often that he just. Stopped characterizating it as Harassment hits. Because I feel like.

Men don't know how to accept a help that doesn't harm them. Weather it's alpha male coaches embarassing them and their identity that they themselves seek out, or balantly ignoring clear signs of abuse, there's a certain viciousness in how men treat themselves and their trauma.

Bruce is like that not because he wants to appear MANLY, or because he thinks it's a Women's Thing, but simply because he sees himself as a tower of protection. What's the point of protecting others if you can't even protect yourself?

[theovergrowth]

Rundown of members of The Sons of The Wilds that are Important Enough To Have Names (Some of them are already dead but don’t worry about which ones):

Elder Brother Ambrose: The main villain of Titus’ childhood, Macintosh’s twin brother, and an absolute charmer as well as a skilled combatant. He was surprised to find out The Wilds was actually real, but ran with it pretty easily. His goals are much more power oriented, not really caring what happens to those around him as long as he ends up on top. He doesn’t actually really care about bringing Titus back, but knows that making the rest of The Sons want that gives him control.

Elder Brother Macintosh: Macintosh to me is less of a villain in Titus’ childhood as much as he is an antagonist. He’s not a good person, not at all, but while Ambrose’s wrath is almost always intended or at least known to himself, Macintosh is much more oblivious and unintentional with the harm he causes. A man who’s stuck himself in his own mind for centuries, unable to interact with the world in a positive way, and unable to let go of the past. He’s devout to The Wilds, but if he were able to be honest with himself he was just devout to Macrides. He’s the resident healer, as well as being the primary source of any religious lore regarding The Wilds.

Shepherd Rome: Where do I even begin with Rome. She was a Shepherd of The Wilds, which was the closest thing the commune really had to law enforcement. Shepherds would go on shifts, patrolling the untamed areas within the circle of warded trees that kept Outsiders away to make sure everything was still right; the outside stayed out, the inside stayed in. As a child on the commune she had been frustrated with the walls surrounding her; as an adult, she was more or less resigned, too tired to keep up that rebelliousness that once defined her. She was the closest thing Titus had to a friend on the commune, as well as her often mothering him out of some animalistic instinct. When Titus became The Overgrowth, that rebellious spirit woke back up to try and convince her Brothers that what they were doing was wrong, even if they were hurt. It did not work, but we’ll talk about that later ok

Huntsmaster Golden: Golden, an older half-giant, is if that religious grandpa who constantly reminds you that you’re going to hell was strong enough to tear a man’s skull in two. He is a blindly faithful servant, the leader of the Huntsman, a person-sized tribute to The Wilds’ glory and wrath, and that definitely gives him a bit of an ego. Not a boisterous one, but one that that makes him feel comfortable enough pointing out that what you’re doing right now would not be appreciated by The Wilds and if you don’t stop he will make you. Titus and him had a rocky relationship, but also Titus was the only one on the commune who could sit through Golden’s stories until he was done telling them. Golden was also the one to teach Titus how to debone a fish in less than 5 seconds! (I think his accent is more West Virginian but that’s not important)

Undertaker Gala: Titus really doesn’t know much about Brother Gala, only meeting her once. None of the Brothers know Brother Gala very much, as she lives past The Fields (the bad ones) and works as the sole Undertaker. She tends to the few dead (I’m gonna make a whole post talking about the way The Sons handle death because Oh Boy) and always knows when a Brother has died.

Tender Fuji: A satyr, an animal whisperer, and a good friend of Rome’s. Fuji’s primary job was to tend to the fields and livestock, and they were always content with that. They had been born into the commune, and they were fine with the idea of working, living, and someday dying there. They were usually the person Rome would turn to when trying to gently tap down the rebellious spirit, being endlessly patient, pragmatic, and generally level-headed if not a bit anxious to please. Fuji wasn’t a big fan of Titus, mainly just out of a general discomfort around children. Titus was adamant to Rome that he could change their mind.

Shepherd Braeburn: I’m not even gonna be vague with him, he’s a bootlicker and a narc. He’s one of those guys who thinks he can throw the competition under the bus to get ahead, and is constantly running to the Shepherdmaster or the Elder Brothers to report any misdeeds by those around him. Ambrose likes him.

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, don’t kill me because of the ending, sebastian and reader are the definition of right person wrong time, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning, also this part has some funny moments but overall it’s a big SOB

part: 6/6 (there will also be an epilogue)

(other parts)   (masterlist)

This is how it ends: broken hearts from crashed dreams.

Sebastian holds you until his muscles ache and your lungs burn from the feeling of too little oxygen. It is cold and dark, almost midnight, too dark, a starless night.

No more stars for you and I.

“Here,” Voice hoarse, eyes heavy-lid and itching from almost crying. He gives you one of the rings he wore in the movie. “I want you to keep this.”

Keep it close to your heart. Forget me not.

He takes a breath and a step back, tries to regain all the strength he still has, steady feet and shoulders fixed. He digs his nails into his palms, red marks in his skin, air catching in his throat, he’s on the verge of falling but he stays standing.

He remembers tears glistening down his cheeks, maybe they were yours not his, and the cold autumn wind hitting his face and he remembers feeling like he’s dying.

And then he closes the door of Argyris’ car and looks at you.

And his heart stretches and stretches and stretches and then somehow splits in half.

/

It goes like this:

There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment from now on. In the living room. Sitting on the couch. And it has steel blue eyes and a familiar heart. And it whispers a love story, half-finished, and you cannot make it stop.

The ghost touches your collarbone and he’s gone but there’s a ring in a golden chain around your neck and a white shirt forgotten in your laundry. And it smells like him. The clinging scent of his aftershave sticking to your pores. Eucalyptus. And no matter how hard you try to wash it off, it still lingers.

How could I ever forget someone like you?

The ghost lives here, but the place is empty, so empty. And it’s hard not to cry.

/

Sebastian calls and texts a lot.

He tells you he’s tired but excited because he started filming a new movie. It’s very indie and experimental, I can’t wait for you to see it. He tells you he’s missing his days in Greece like hell and that one night he dreamt of you. Didn’t want to wake up. What he doesn’t tell you is that he’s coming back in a month, Argyris needs him for some extra scenes. It’s nearly killing him but he doesn’t tell you. He wants to surprise you, see the pure light in your eyes when they’ll meet his.

/

You try sexting. It doesn’t go very well.

23:50, sebastian: if you were here in my bed right now what would you be doing

06:51, you: probably falling asleep hahaha

06:51, you: oh fuck was i supposed to sext back

06:51, you: sorry seb i just woke up and i have a class in an hour, love you <3

23:52, sebastian: fuck timezones

/

(three weeks and 10 seconds later)

“I can’t believe she doesn’t know you’re here,” Argyris shakes his head as he’s driving home from the airport, “If I were her, I’d kill you.”

“Good thing I didn’t fall in love with you.”

Sebastian laughs and looks out of the car window. The stars. There are so many stars tonight. He holds his breath; he’s finally feeling whole again. His heart isn’t split in two anymore.

/

You don’t know how long you stand there at your door, staring at him, but it feels like a century before he grins, almost laughs, takes your hands in his and you start considering that perhaps this isn’t a hallucination. Perhaps it’s real.

“Surprise?”

Something inside of you bursts, your organs twitch. You can’t think, you can’t speak, but you can move. You don’t lose any more time, you take a step forward, attach your bodies, your face buried in his neck, your fingers clutching into the rough fabric of his jacket. You breathe him in like an antidote.

“How?”

“Does it matter?”

“No.”

You kiss him and it’s like poetry, like art, like honey and you can’t separate yourself from him, not even hours later.

/

(looking back, these were the golden days)

You pretending to be mad at him for not telling you he was coming back and him pressing his lips on your skin, drawing patterns on your naked shoulder. A feathery touch.

Sebastian always touches you like you’re something made of gold and porcelain, something cherished that constantly needs to be treasured. And nobody has done that before. And you love him for it.

You try to decorate your Christmas tree together. He messes with the lights for a while, eventually gives up and goes on to eat too many reindeer shaped cookies.

He massages your muscles when you write a boring essay for college.

You go with him when he has to shoot a “driving a motorcycle naked in the centre of Athens” scene and you bite the inside of your cheeks to stop smiling like an idiot.

He gives you a dress he bought for you in New York.  

“You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

He calls you sweetheart in the mornings, still half asleep and later joins you in the shower.

“Why are you so hot?”

“Climate change”

“Oh, shut up”

It’s tender and it’s soft and it’s human.

And that’s the saddest part.

/

Soon you realize that him leaving two months ago was merely a rehearsal and you still haven’t said your actual goodbyes. Your chest starts to feel as if it’s full of crushed glass.

And it’s ridiculous because you fell in love with Sebastian sometime between the first ten days you spent together.

Who falls in love in ten days?  

Ridiculous or not, you know you are in love with him just as you know that sooner or later, whatever he is feeling will fade and wither. Maybe it’ll be in a week, maybe it’ll be in a month, maybe in a year if you’re lucky. But there will definitely come a day when he will step out of a gala or a party or a fancy gym in New York with a beautiful model in his arms and two paparazzi’s following him around.

What will you be then?

A past small cameo in his life. A side character. Will he remember your name?

He is your whole world.

(a bottle of cheap prosecco helps you decide that)

He is your whole world.

And yet, there will come a day when he won’t even remember your name.

/

It was difficult. No, it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done. Telling him how you think it’d be better if you didn’t talk after he leaves.

“I don’t agree with this.”

“Seb, it’s for the best.”

Your body doesn’t feel strong enough to carry your heart. And you’re certain it will only get worse once he’s away. The world around you will melt. You’ll obsess over a phone screen and his messages. You’ll start chasing ghosts again. You can’t handle that.

“Why?” He says urgently and his fingers dance over the flesh of your palms.

“Because this”, you motion your hand between the two of you, “is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life and I don’t want it to become ugly.”

He nods, he understands.

“I love you, you know,” he says smiling and tugs you closer to him, “And I may not be here to show you but I think I’ll love you for a long time.”

Your hand grips his waist right to the bones and something flares in your eyes, something wild that wrenches you around.

“I know, I’ll love you the same.”

“Maybe we’ll meet again.”

“Only if I’m the luckiest girl on the planet.”

He laughs and you look at him, fully aware he’ll be ripped out of your life like a page from a cheap leather notebook. And when you kiss for the last time, there’s a hole forming in your soul.

And just because endings don’t leave visible scars to one’s body and soul, that doesn’t mean the scars don’t exist. You know they do, because you feel the aching pain of every single one of them.

/

(every night when you close your eyes you see him)

(every night you look at the stars and think of him)

/

A month passes and Argyris asks you if you miss him.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

“He said the exact same thing.”

You tell him not to mention Sebastian again.

Two months pass and you need to stop stalking his instagram profile.

Three months pass and you almost text him.

Four months pass and you go to watch Endgame with some friends and you cry. You cry when Black Widow sacrifices herself and when Iron Man smiles at his wife while dying, and when Bucky Barnes appears on screen.

The others don’t understand and you don’t blame them.

Five months pass and Argyris’ girlfriend wants you to meet someone. A charming boy your age with blonde hair and a lip piercing.

And he's cute but you compare him to Sebastian even before he has the chance to say his name. His eyes are not the right shade of blue and he doesn’t look at you like you’re made of the world’s finest jewel.

And he doesn’t know any constellation names.

And then more than a year passes in a second and you learn to not look for him. Not anymore.

/

It’s early March 2020 and despite the rising fear of the upcoming pandemic, you’re doing well. Scars are starting to fade. And after spending two weeks in Prague, your best friend being there with an exchange program, Sebastian Stan is the farthest thing from your mind.

Until he literally comes crashing into you. At the airport.

No, it can’t be him.

You have your suitcase on one hand and a bottle of antiseptic gel on the other. He has two bodyguards on his sides and a black hoodie on.  And while half of his face is hidden behind a mask, you can see his eyes perfectly. A frozen lake in December. You would know those eyes in your deathbed, at the end of the world.

Your vision gets blurry and suddenly you feel cold.

He won’t recognize me, he can’t.

But then he looks at you and every memory you had buried inside of you resurfaces.

He motions to his guards to wait for him and he starts walking towards you. You breathe slowly, one breath at a time. He takes his mask off and you hesitate to take yours, not sure if you truly want him to see you.

You exchange the typical and very awkward hi, how are you, i’m glad you’re doing okay and then he smiles and it feels comfortable. Familiar.

It’s the whiff of another time that you always kept around. A reminder that you were once loved by a god.

“What are you doing here?”

“Filming Falcon and the Winter Soldier”

If you hadn’t unfollowed him on instagram, you’d known.

“Ah yes I heard about that, congrats.”

He nods a thank you.

“And you? In Prague?”

“I was at a friend.”

He looks conflicted, hurt, turns his gaze to his shoes on the grey cement. You want to say something, but you feel like throwing up.

And then he laughs.

“I was right.”

You’re confused, he notices.

“Back in Greece,” he swallows, “I told you this would happen.”

“It would have been an airport, different gates for each of us, but same waiting hall. Or a Greek island, where we’d both be for the summer.”

“I would have found you.”

You remember and you cannot help but smile. He was right. He found you.

“I didn’t believe you then.”

I barely believe you now.

He touches your hair. And his touch is like a knife. And you want to cry. Magnolias under your tongue. A love long lost is whispering in your ears until it hurts to listen. He’s like a magnetic field and you feel yourself drowning in him.

“I bet they’ll ask me a hundred questions about you later.” He says and looks at the two men waiting for him.

“And what will you tell them?”

“That you’re most probably the love of my life.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

“There’s no way we’d meet here if you’re not.”

“Sebastian,” His name sounds like a prayer coming out of your lips and you're ready to tell him you love him and you can swear he looks like he’s ready to faint, “I-”

The guards yell his name. And it's the same feeling people have just before a car crash.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

One last look.

Don’t cry, don’t cry.

You repeat it over and over again. But you fail.

“No, don't cry” He smiles, one last smile, “Just look at the stars and wait for us to meet again, because we will.”

He caresses the back of your palm for a second and you think your ribcage is shattering but it’s only your heart drumming frantically. Pushing your fragile bones to break. 

You want to stop him, wrap your arms around his torso, never let him go. Not again. But you don’t.

You just watch him leave, one more time, your knees weak, your head heavy and dizzy. For the split of a moment he turns and glances at you but then he’s nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was all in your imagination. Perhaps it was nothing but a wonder.

You get into your plane and you silently sob.

/

And then it’s summer.

And you overhear he was seen with a girl, the day before your vacation starts and you find a picture of them together a week later, a pretty blonde girl clinging to his side with a colorful bikini somewhere in Spain. And he’s smiling. And you feel so ashamed. And so stupid.

They say time heals all wounds but they must be wrong because you can’t forget how he used to smile at you or how he used to call you the love of his life.

Was he joking when he said you'll meet again? You bet if you asked him now, he wouldn't even remember saying it.

I’ll love you for a long time.

So long for nothing.

/

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged :) also i’m really sorry if you asked me to tag you and i didn’t  but i lost a lot of asks and the urls of the people that sent them :( 

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[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 7 –  Polished, Public Appropriate First Date

Chapter 1     Chapter 6

“She will like whatever you do with her.  She’s pretty easy going.” Tim advised plopping down on the couch next to an upside Stephanie, poking her in her exposed side and receiving a warning kick to the head as a result.

Dick gave Tim a cynical look and ran his hands through his hair.  He groaned and ran to the mirror to fix his now messed up hair.  

“No cologne tonight?” Stephanie asked sniffing the air.

“No.  She asked if I would hold off on it for a few weeks until her stomach settles a bit more.”  He turned to look at Tim.  “And I want it to be special.  I want her to feel special.”  His anxiety apparent in his every fidget, hesitation, and tap of his foot.

“What, you don’t think making her feel constant nausea is special?” Stephanie asked with a smirk.

Dick threw his comb at her which she caught easily.  “No, I think I have to make up for making her feel like that.  She’s been miserable constantly.  I want her to feel good.”

“You think stuffy and pretentious is the way to go if she’s feeling miserable?” Stephanie asked curiously, trying to cock her head closer to right side up in order to see him better.

“It’ll be something nice for her.  This is going to work.  She’s going to love it,” he said more to reassure himself than convince the others. “She’ll get to dress up.  Get really nice food.  Everything she needs to feel better.”

“She told you she’s been miserable?” Damian asked suspiciously.  “Seems manipulative.  If she’s even really feeling sick at all.”  He batted away the pillow Stephanie threw at him without bothering to look up from his homework.

“She isn’t like that. And she’s pregnant you tiny gremlin, with your niece or nephew, if you remember.” Tim hissed.  “And she doesn’t need to latch onto anyone.  Give her ten years and she will be one of the leading names in fashion in the world.  Why do you think I partnered with her in the first place?  She doesn’t need Dick for money.”

“Enough.  I’m not discussing this tonight,” Dick thundered, scowling at Damian.  “She hasn’t said anything, but I can hear it in her voice whenever we talk and see it in her eyes whenever I see her.  She keeps saying she’s fine and plasters on this fake smile, like she doesn’t want me to worry.”

Damian scoffed, but refrained from continuing.  Tim spoke up instead.  “She didn’t fake the vomit before our meeting earlier today… or after.”

Dick’s head whipped over to him.  “She threw up in your office today?  Twice?”

“In the bathroom, but yeah.” Tim nodded in confirmation.  “I don’t think she expected Tam to see her or tell me about it.  She threw up then went into our meeting like nothing was wrong. As soon as the meeting was over and I’d returned to the office she rushed to the bathroom and Tam said was just heaving that time.”

Steph nodded. “Probably didn’t have anything in her stomach to throw up anymore.  Happens a lot.  I don’t know if it makes it better or worse.  They both really sucked.  It all really sucked actually.  The idea of eating made you unbelievably sick, but not eating made it worse.”  She righted herself on the couch, throwing her legs over Tim’s lap and leaning against the arm rest.  “And don’t even get me started on those bitches who don’t get any morning sickness.”

Dick hummed in consideration. His brow furrowed deeper the more he thought about it.  He really didn’t want her hiding things from him, which admittedly was rather hypocritical of him, but if she was suffering, he wanted to know.  “If it’s as bad as Tim says, maybe you should let her decide where you go instead.  There’s probably food she can’t eat or makes her feel sicker than others and there may be something that her body is craving.  And it may change from moment to moment.  It did for me.”

Dick gave her a small, understanding smile.  “Thanks, Steph.  I’ll think about it.  Now, wish me luck.”  He shot them a nervous smile and left to pick up Marinette for their first date.

<><><><><> 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this,” Marinette asked again.

Dick laughed and shook his head.  “I told you, it’s fine.  I like Batburger.  This is great.”  

“But you put so much effort into something nicer.  And you definitely dressed for something more elegant,” she moaned.

He pulled her into a side hug as he guided her to a place to sit in the park.  “I hate pretentious.  I’d rather just hang around and have fun… I mean, unless you like fancy restaurants, then…”

Marinette cut him off with a laugh.  “No. No, I don’t.  I mean every once in a while is fun and I love the outfits at big events obviously, but I’d rather just do something where we can relax and have fun.  Act like ourselves, not a polished, public appropriate version of ourselves.”

Dick smiled and motioned to a bench with a nice view of the park.  She nodded and sat sideways on the bench so she could talk to him better. “You mean polished, public appropriate like cursing repeatedly at the host’s son at the biggest social event of the year?” He smirked at her.

Marinette groaned and hid her head in her hands.  “Don’t remind me.  I can’t believe I did that.”

Dick laughed and wrapped his arms around her to pull her into a comforting hug.  “It’s fine.  Very justified… considering.”  Marinette made a noncommittal grunt and leaned into his chest, lowering her hands slightly.  “But I agree,” he started slowly, “occasionally is nice, but relaxed is better.  And galas especially are draining.  They’re so boring and annoying.  Maybe next time… we can go together?” he finished quietly. His heart was pounding in his chest as he asked.  Was he being too forward?  Was it too forward to ask the mother of your child to attend a family event?  That wasn’t too forward, right?  He didn’t want to scare her off on their first date.  

Marinette looked up at him in surprise.  “You…” She smiled at him for a few moments.  She turned back to her food and pulled out her batburger.  She looked back at him with a smirk.  “Pretty confident this date’s going to go well, huh?”

Dick blinked a few times. He chuckled and gave her a charming smile, pulling his burger out as well.  “I’m hopeful.”  

Marinette looked at the burger before she took a bite and shook her head.  “I can’t believe you have a restaurant themed after your heroes.”

“Vigilantes,” he corrected her.

“Vigilantes, right. Sorry.  I’m not used to that.  Paris and New York had heroes not vigilantes.”  She moaned happily as she took a bite of her burger.  “Oh my God.  I don’t know if it’s just the pregnancy, but this is the best thing ever.”

Dick laughed and took a bite of his food.  “That’s definitely the pregnancy.”

She hummed again as she rapidly ate her first small burger.  “I don’t care.  This is exactly what I needed.”

Dick watched her for a few moments before taking another bite himself.  “So, how was your day today?  I heard you had a meeting with Tim,” he asked in as casual tone as he could manage.

Marinette’s eyes lit up. She rapidly chewed the bite that was in her mouth before launching into a description.  “It was great!  We finalized the designs today, well as much as we can considering I’m just now seeing the fabrics they designed, which means I can start working on making the designs.  Tim had some really great suggestions and now we’re starting to plan for the show for fashion week.  Thankfully, a team at WE is handling all that so I can focus on the designs.  I have more than enough time for the show, but I’ll need to have options in my store for people to buy once the show is over and that will take time.”

She took another quick bite of her second child sized burger and started bouncing in her seat.  “I’m so excited to get my hands on the textiles. I’d only been briefed on what they were designed to do and felt samples before today.  Next week I’ll get to actually work with them.  Oh, and Tim introduced me to the man who did most of the designing for the textiles.  That was amazing.  I really liked speaking with him.  I’m really looking forward to working with him more.  He was so knowledgeable and had great suggestions and considered my suggestions.  It was really enlightening for both of us, I think.  He might go back and adjust his designs based on my suggestions.  It felt like a really good understanding and respect. I was so nervous about signing the contract considering I am so new and I’ve never done… well anything, and WE is so huge.  But I think this is going to be really great for both of us.”  

Dick felt his chest tighten slightly.  Not that he was jealous.  And there was no reason to be.  This was a work colleague.  It was important that she had a good relationship with her colleagues in order to succeed and he wanted her time at WE to be enjoyable.  But that did nothing to lessen the tightening in his chest. “So, who was the designer?”  Was that nonchalant?  That was totally nonchalant, right?  He was cool.  It was fine. The woman he liked and was carrying his baby was having enlightening, amazing conversations with another man. That was fine.  Good even.  That was ideal for her.  He absolutely did not want to punch the enlightened, amazing man in his amazing, enlightened jaw.

“Lucius Fox.  He’s the sweetest man and so smart.  I don’t know how he thinks of all the things he does but it’s amazing to watch.”

Dick let out the breath he had been holding and gave her a beaming smile.  “Yeah, Lucius is amazing.  We all love him.  He’s a close friend of the family.”

“I can see why.” She nodded taking another bite.

“Anything else happen?” he prompted casually.

She considered his question. “That’s pretty much everything.  I can go into more detail on things if you want me to, but yeah, pretty much.  How was your day?  You never told me what you do.”

“Oh, I… do security with Bruce… in my own division.” He gave her a disarming smile.  It was his standard lie, but for some reason it felt wrong to use it.

“You work at WE, too?” Her eyes lit up with excitement.  “Maybe I’ll bump into you next time!  Or maybe we can get lunch together.”

“We can try.  My hours are odd.” He winced internally.  The lie was going to be harder to maintain if she was going to be there frequently.  He looked up to continue deferring the possibility but got caught in her eyes.  They were so bright and hopeful.  He couldn’t let that fade away.  He was sure she would understand, but he didn’t want her to have to.  He could come into the building more often, make the lie more realistic.  He smiled back at her.  “But I can make sure I’m there for that.  I can pick you up and take you to WE.  I can walk you to Tim’s office and give you a kiss for good luck before you start your day.”

“That sounds like an incredibly lucky start to my day.” She snuggled closer to him and gazed up in his eyes.

“It will definitely make my day better.  Anytime I see you, it makes my day better, happier,” he said earnestly, running his fingers up her arm.

She beamed at him. “Yeah?”

He looked lovingly in her eyes as he traced along her cheeks and jaw, resting his hand gently around her throat.  “Yeah,” he whispered back.

She bit her lip and looked down, a blush settling on her cheeks.  She suddenly swallowed heavily and threaded her fingers through his. She moved their hands to her lap with a reassuring squeeze.  She breathed out slowly a few times before finally looking back up with a strained smile. Dick furrowed his brow.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She diverted her eyes and took a small bite of her burger.  

He didn’t need to be a trained detective to read the signs she was giving out, the sudden shift from affectionate to slightly closed off.  From leaning into his touch to leaning away from him.  Her soft, warm smile turned tight and strained.  Her breathing had turned labored.  Her relaxed posture was rigid.  He would think he had done something and she was uncomfortable but she was still squeezing his hand.  “Marinette…” he urged her softly.

“Sorry,” she grumbled, looking down with a guilty look on her face.

“Morning sickness?”  She nodded, still not looking him in the eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not going to last forever, just a few more weeks, and… I like you touching me.  It’s just the pressure on my neck triggered a reflex. In a few weeks it’ll be fine and I don’t want you to think you should stop,” she explained, the blush on her cheeks now from embarrassment.

Dick smiled roguishly at her. “You like me touching you, huh?” Marinette rolled her eyes but her deep blush betrayed her pleasure at his comment.  Dick brushed the bangs out of her eyes, and let his fingers linger in her hair, making sure not to put too much pressure on her.  “Marinette, it’s okay to tell me the truth.  I want to know.  It isn’t a burden you’re laying on me by being honest.  You aren’t just complaining.  You’re telling me the truth.  You’re letting me be part of this.  We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

“Yes, of course,” she answered automatically.

“Then I want the truth. You’re not going to scare me off. I’m not going anywhere.  I’m not going to be disappointed in you or the baby. I’m not going to get frustrated and pull away.  I’m here for the whole messy, miserable, chaotic, amazing, miraculous process.  I want to support you, both of you.  So if you’re so sick you’re throwing up before and after meetings,” he gave her a pointed look. “I want to help.  I can pick you up or bring you food or interrupt the meeting so it doesn’t go long.”

Marinette looked down guiltily and started fidgeting with her fingers.  “Tim knew about that, huh?”

“Tim knows everything that goes on at WE,” he confirmed.

Marinette let out a long, deep sigh.  “I didn’t want him to know.”

“Why not?”

“I… I can still do my job,” she insisted.  “I don’t want special treatment because I’m carrying his niece or nephew.  I want to get better and make sure this project is successful, not get coddled.”

Dick opened him mouth then shut it again.  “Tim would go soft on you.  So would Lucius,” Dick agreed.  “But only if they thought you were doing your best.  If they thought you were shirking or not putting your best effort in, they would let you know.  But they aren’t going to push you into the hospital.  They wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t pregnant.  Okay?”

Marinette gave him an unconvinced smile but nodded.  “Okay,” she agreed.

“Alright.  So, how are you feeling?”

She shrugged.  “Right now, pretty close to okay.”

“So… not good?”

“There is no good. There’s just less terrible.  And this is just the first week of it.  I’m scared I’m going to have to start taking medicine for it and I’d really prefer not to do that.  They say it’s safe but… I don’t want to take anything unless I absolutely have to.  Hey, do you think I can get another burger?”  Dick smiled and started to pull out his second burger for her before Marinette put her hand on his arm to stop him.  “Actually, ignore that.”

He shook his head at her again.  “Marinette, you can have my burger if you want another one.”

She looked at him self-consciously.  “I know. Thank you for that, but if I eat too much it’ll make me feel sick too.  It’s better to maybe come back another time or get something small on the way home.”

Dick nodded. “Okay, if you’re sure.”  She nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out the last item in it.  She giggled and held it up for Dick to see. “Hey, baby’s first toy!” He exclaimed excitedly.

She looked at him with soft eyes and nodded.  “Baby’s first toy,” she repeated dreamily.  

Dick reached out to rub her belly but stopped just short of touching her.  “Is it… is it okay for me to…” he nodded toward his hand and her belly.

Marinette pointedly eyed his arm that were already wound around her waist, but his gaze was so earnest, her teasing comment died on her lips.  “Yeah, yeah it’s okay,” she whispered softly instead.

He ran his hand over her belly reverently.  This was his first time running his hand over the baby.  Her belly was still flat, no external indication there was more developing beneath the surface.  He could feel her lithe muscles through her shirt.  But underneath the muscles was their baby.  Their baby.  Their baby was growing and developing.  And then one day in no time at all the baby would be there, in his arms, looking at him, trusting him, needing him to protect it. And he would do anything he had to in order to make sure his child was safe.

He looked back up at Marinette with a warm smile.  He tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him.  She cupped his cheek and stretched up to kiss him.

She hummed contentedly as she pulled away and laid her head on his shoulder.  He laid his head on hers and squeezed her again.  Marinette picked up the figurine to get a better look at it.  “It’s Nightwing!” She held up the small black and blue figurine for Dick to see.

Dick shook his head out of his stupor and sent her a sly smile.  “Yeah, I remember you saying he’s your favorite.”

“Oh my God.  I don’t even remember talking about him.  How embarrassing was I?”

“How embarrassing do you get?”

She stuck her tongue out at him and shoved a few fries in her mouth.  “Sorry can’t,” she motioned to her full mouth, “eating.”

Dick laughed and stole a fry from her.  Marinette gasped in mock outrage.  “You would steal a pregnant woman’s fries?  I think I need to call Nightwing to take you away.”  She winked at him.

“You’re right that was ungentlemanly of me.  Here take my fries in reparation.”  He pushed his fries over to her.

“I was kidding.  I’m not going to steal half your dinner.”

“It just means you have more for me to steal.” He smirked at her as he reached over her and past his fries to steal a few more of her fries.

She giggled and took one of his fries.  “Who’s your favorite?”

“Mine? Oh, um…” he had to think about that.  “Wonder Girl, I guess.”

“Oh I didn’t know we could include heroes.  That changes my answer.  Why is she your favorite?” She turned back to her fries missing the pout that settled on Dick’s face.

“She’s got really good moves in battle.  She uses just enough force, but not too much.  Like she is more concerned about hurting anyone unnecessarily.  But she’s really protective of her team and goes out of her way to help anyone who needs it.  Or maybe I just have a thing for black haired, blue eyed, kickass women.” He smirked at her.  He stared at her for a few moments and he knew he shouldn’t.  He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t stop himself.  “But let’s go back.  Who’s your favorite if you’re including heroes?”

“Chat Noir.”

“Wow no hesitation there at all.  That… that hurts.  I feel betrayed.  And why is he your favorite?”

“That I’m choosing a Parisian hero instead of a Gothamite?” She raised an eyebrow.  Dick mentally cursed himself.  She didn’t know he was Nightwing.  Of course she wouldn’t get the reference.  Marinette missed his grimace as she reached back to grab more fries to eat as she talked.  “He’s a really good guy.  Really sweet and kind.  I guess kind of like Wonder Girl.  He went out of his way to help everyone he came across, though I suppose all the Paris heroes did that.  He had amazing control over his powers and was so compassionate.  Always thinking of others before himself.  He saved me a few times.  Used to stop by my balcony to talk sometimes… eat some free pastries. He was a friend.  We kind of grew up together… I mean… as much as a hero can with a civilian.”

She gave him what she hoped was a convincing smile.  It wasn’t. Dick made a mental note to do some research on Chat Noir and see how close he was to Marinette.  He cringed again.  That sounded pretty creepy.  He couldn’t do that.  “I haven’t even met Nightwing,” Marinette continued oblivious to Dick’s inner turmoil, “so Chat wins by default.”  She looked at the figurine again and cocked her head to the side.  “I need to make some Miraculous team dolls for the baby.”

“Should I be jealous?” Dick raised his brow playfully.

“Over me or the Parisian hero dolls or the pastries?”  Her smile was coy but her eyes were sultry.

“How good were the pastries?” He leaned closer to her.

“Very.” She leaned in closer. “My parents make amazing pastries. So do I.”

“Maybe you can show me sometime.”

She nodded “I’d like to. I just need to know what you like.”

He traced her jaw with his finger. “I like you.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes, but moved closer to him with rosy cheeks. “You are so cheesy.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “I haven’t even started yet.  I like your eyes.” He slowly kissed both of her eyes.  “I like your nose.” He kissed the tip of her nose.  “I like your cheeks.” He kissed both cheeks and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks after he kissed them.  “I like your ears.” He gently grazed his teeth over her ear’s shell.  His felt a warming in his chest when her breath hitched. “I like your jaw.” He laid small kisses along her jaw to the other side of her face.  “I like this spot right here a lot.” She sighed happily as he ghosted nose over a spot below her ear and kissed it.  “I like you.” He pulled her in for a passionate kiss.  She whimpered as his tongue slipped between her lips to meet hers.  She trailed her hands across his shoulders and up his neck slowly until she reached his hair.  She pulled gently to pull him closer.  His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her into his lap.

After a few moments she pulled away breathing hard and rested her head on his shoulder, focusing on the ground.  Dick waited for his breath to level back out and leaned close to her ear.  “And chocolate.  I like chocolate.”

She nodded slightly, still not looking at him and breathing deeply.  His brow furrowed in concern.  He gently rubbed her back.  “Marinette?” She hummed quietly and held up a finger to let him know to wait.  He gave her a nervous smile.  “That bad, huh?”

She chuckled lightly and took another deep breath before looking back up at him.  “Maybe we should hold off on tongues for a few weeks too.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding and cringed.  “Gag reflex.”

Marinette hummed and settled back against his shoulder again.  “And everything triggers it right now.  Breathing triggers it.  Thinking triggers it.  Ugh.  I can’t wait for this part to be over.”

Dick wrapped his arms tighter around her, but made sure to leave them light enough not to put too much pressure on her stomach.  “Sorry you have to go through this.  I promise to work on making my kissing less gag inducing.”

She giggled into his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his chest shaking with laughter as well.  She pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes and rested her arms around his shoulders.  “Chocolate.  I can make that happen.”

Dick frowned at her.  “You just almost threw up again.  Maybe don’t push yourself.  I’m more worried about you than getting some pastries,” his voice was suddenly tender.

Marinette smiled up at him and ran her fingers along his cheek, settling her hand on his neck.  “I think it’s funny that you think I’m going to wait to start baking things for you or designing things for you.  I’ve already started making plans and coming up with ideas.”

“I’m not going to convince you to take it easy am I?”  She gave a resolute shake of her head.  Dick shook his head and gave a defeated sigh. “Then, I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with.” He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss.

Chapter 8

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182

[lokishornns]

Burn and Break [1]

—

masterlist

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— send requests!!

pairing: loki x reader (fem)

type: series

rating: pg13

word count: 2,101

warnings: cursing? probably, misogyny if u squint

summary:  A case, a new precinct, and a new partner apparently is the initiation ceremony into the thirty-three, a precinct in the heart of New York City that is teeming with criminals, cops, and a ginger cat named Goose. You hope to make the best of your new office, but a certain onyx-haired man seems to be doing just the opposite, constantly driving you up the wall instead. You just pray you can make it through this case.

notes: so this is definitely not a request, but it’s a concept i’ve been planning for a while so i pray that this works out

send requests

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Your fingers tapped nervously against the off-white table, the occasional ridges in the plastic setting off the tempo of your nervous habit. Your eyes glance around quickly, scanning the room and the individuals within it. A podium stands at the front of the room, chairs and tables set in rows, turned to the front. Most officers are standing around in clusters, you among the few that are sitting in the cheap chairs that are usually found stacked against the wall in a random church.

A large, – and quite honestly – gorgeous man moves towards the podium, his eyes scanning over files that he throws on the wooden stand. His eyes lift from their focus on the papers, surveying the space with blue irises until they meet yours. His eyes pause at yours, blond eyebrows raising and a smile on his lips. You return the gesture with a small lift of the lips, watching as he continues to take in the room.

“Officers, take a seat,” his loud voice booms, the noise in the room dying down as figures make their way to the seats. A shift to your left notifies you of a new presence, your eyes being drawn to the new intruder. Your eyes catch onto a man with shoulder-length onyx hair, busying himself with his phone.

“Before we start with our normal announcements, I would like to start off with announcing that we have a new member joining the thirty-three. Please, give a warm welcome to Detective Y/L/N, recently transferred from the twenty-six,” the Captain announces, his eyes turning to yours.

Your face flushes red as eyes turn to you and low applause fills your ears. You send out small smiles, all being returned except for a narrowed stare from the stranger beside you, an unsettling feeling washing over you. Your eyes flick back to the front where the Captain continues with announcements.

“Make sure to greet her after I’m finished. Now, onto important news. Romanoff and Barton, how are things coming with the vigilante case?”

“Great, you know it’s just fantastic when another body shows up after you think you put the perp away,” a man responds, frustration laced in the humor he throws out.

The Captain quirks a brow and a sigh emits from a redhead sitting in the row in front of you.

“You’re going to have to excuse Barton, he had patrol duty for crowds,” Romanoff pipes up, her lips turned up in a smirk as she looks to her side. The Captain shifts through his files, picking one out.

“Barnes and Wilson, any updates on the gang shooting?” A grumble comes from behind you and your head turns back to a pair of men sitting – or laying – behind you. A thumbs-up rises from one and you almost choke when you notice it’s a prosthetic arm. “Buck,” the Captain warns and the one with the prosthetic arm lifts his head, his hair falling back.

“What?” he grumbles.

“Updates.”

“Ugh, Steve, you’re no fun. ‘Captain Rogers’ needs to loosen up,” the one besides ‘Buck’ mumbles through his arms.

“Shell casings don’t match any gangs’ usual signature weapons. We’re going to try matching them with cartels instead, but I’m not sure. They’re almost military grade,” ‘Buck’ says and Captain Rogers nods, a hum of approval vibrating through his lips.

“Stark and Banner, I saw your reports on analyzing and processing; good job. Stark, I believe the nine-nine needs help with some fingerprints; they tried calling earlier.”

“At this rate I should set up my own tech company,” a voice near the front calls out from whom you assume as Stark.

“Odinsons, meet in my office for a briefing. The success on your last assignment shows a new path for the both of you.” A loud sound booms from in front of you that you almost think some sort of explosion has gone off before you realize it came from the enormous blond-haired man in front of you.

The man turns, extending a hand to the stranger that sits beside you as some sort of motion for a high five. The stranger only snorts before rolling his eyes and going back to his phone. You notice that the man looks a little dejected, so you stick your hand out, lightly pressing the palm that engulfs yours. The blond’s eyes meet yours and a smile lights up his face.

“I like this one,” he booms, and a small smile covers your lips, your eyes turning to the stranger beside you, almost jumping when his blue irises meet yours, a harsh stare directed to you. You only look away.

“Thor, you will be the one to show Y/L/N around the precinct,” Captain Rogers announces, and Thor turns around, an ecstatic emotion on his face. “Now, onto social events. The benefit gala is rapidly approaching, thanks to the help of the amazing organization of Pepper Stark. The attire is formal, suits, jumpsuits, and dresses, not any specific gender assigned to any. That’s all for today. Head off on your assignments, Odinsons and Y/L/N in my office after all greetings.” You give a nod to the Captain, immediately overwhelmed with the number of people approaching you.

You feel as if your lips are going to fall off from smiling by the time you slip through the doors of the Captain’s office, met with the pair of brothers and a tired looking Captain.

“Once again, I congratulate the both of you on your success with your recent case. Now, for you, Thor. You will be showing Y/L/N around today, but afterwards, you will be mentoring Parker. You know him, he always comes by and hangs out with the science boys,” Rogers says and Thor nods, a smile on his lips. “Loki, you will be working with Detective Y/L/N on an assignment that I will brief to you both tomorrow. Are-”

“I beg your pardon? With her?” poison drips from his lips, his eyes scanning over you, as if scrutinizing every inch of you. “She barely touched this precinct and I’m to be with her?” If it wasn’t for his harsh words, you would’ve paid more attention to his smooth voice and foreign accent.

Your head cocked at the rude words, not used to such standoffish figures. Some people you knew were tough, but they weren’t this jerkish at first glance.

“Loki,” the Captain said with the same warning tone that he used on ‘Buck’ earlier.

“Seriously, can I get a break? First, I’m paired up with an idiot of a brother and now I’m paired with a girl? This precinct is a joke,” Loki grumbled, slouching in the chair he was sitting in. Your eyes narrow in on the man.

“This girl is a Detective. The same rank as you. She also isn’t deaf and can very well detect when a man is letting his ego get the best of him,” you bite in a sickly-sweet voice, a smile on your lips that doesn’t reach your eyes as you look into his dark pupils. Something flashes in them that you decipher as interest and danger as his brows narrow even further.

A clearing of a throat takes your interest off the man.

“The work that you do on this assignment will determine your further placements at the precinct. Do not take this as a joke,” the Captain orders, his underlying threat directed towards Loki. You watch as Loki takes in the order, his eyes meeting yours once again. You avert your gaze quickly to Thor as the unsettling washes over you once again, your skin rippling.

The large man soon bounds out of the office, his actions closely resembling a golden retriever that has no awareness of his size. His voice booms loudly and you wonder if he has any capability to whisper. He bounds from room to room, introducing you to different departments before explaining how procedures are carried through.

“The Captain seems like a tough man, but I once saw as he cried because he lost a Mario Kart game,” Thor says with his Australian accent and a snort leaves your nose as you cackle with laughter. The unusual sound prompts Thor to laugh and soon you’re a pair of adults crying with laughter in a hallway.

“Tell me about the team. I don’t know much,” you finally say after calming yourself.

“I just told you about Rogers. Romanoff is the redhead; very dangerous and probably the best martial arts officer. I once saw her suffocate a man with her thighs. Barton is the one that always looks like he’s had too little sleep and he’s usually Romanoff’s partner. He has the best shot on the team and everyone’s a little confused on how, but he’s what you would call a natural,” Thor says, and you nod, your ears soaking in every detail of information.

“Sam and Bucky, the men behind you this morning, are a pair of imbeciles that always somehow end up succeeding. Bucky lost his arm when a fridge fell on top of it, and he likes to pull this cool trick where he takes his arm off to disarm his opponents and then he hits them with it. Really cool. Sam’s just sassy and has Big Dick Energy,” Thor’s words come out a little stiff because of his accent, but he still smiles at you.

“Tony and Bruce are the science bros; they really just analyze everything. They’re both crazy smart but they didn’t feel like actually doing anything, so they just took the police academy as a joke and ended up here. Then there are the twins, they’re not in today since they’re at a stakeout. Pietro was a track-star, so he’s insanely fast. Wanda is sweet but it’s weird – she always seems to know what you’re thinking.

“And then there’s the most important of all: me and Loki. We are brothers although Loki is adopted. I handle more of the fist stuff and he handles more of the talking and smart stuff. So, Detective, what are you doing in our precinct?” Thor asks, his lips still pulled into a large grin. Your head swims with all the new information and you almost feel dizzy.

“Got a promotion from Sex Crimes to Detective and they said there was an opening at the thirty-three. Guess I ended up here,” you shrugged, looking around.

“Well, do not worry. We are fun. Maybe except Loki, but he likes you,” Thor slaps a hand on your shoulder and you almost wince at the amount of force he has in his hands.

“Likes me? I think you’re far off buddy,” you snort.

“He likes you, trust me. Just,” Thor pauses, “make sure he stays alive. He’s my family.” Thor’s voice is sincere and there’s a hidden tone of pain.

You push your files into your bag, pressing the button on the desktop to turn it off. Most had already headed home, and you were exhausted from your first day. You sweep over your new desk, making sure everything is clean and spotless except for the small pair of sunglasses, a piece of memorabilia from your last precinct. You smiled at the memory.

A brush against your shin pulls a jump and a small yelp out of you, your chair bumping against the wall from the sudden movement. You peer down, an orange figure prancing around your legs.

“Brr,” the cat lets out the small sound, pulling a smile from your lips. You bend down, your fingers brushing over the fur at the top of the cat’s head, humming in satisfaction as the cat pushes back up against your hand. Your eyes catch the small tag that hangs around its neck, reading the name ‘Goose’.

“Where are you from?” you murmur, your fingers scratching at the small part between Goose’s back and tail.

“Goose!” a familiar voice calls from a room, tongue clicks soon following the call. Goose’s ears perk up before the cat trots off towards the sound, the collar jingling quietly.

You grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder quickly. You step out into the hallway, prepared to leave before a large chest covers your exit. You clear your throat after noticing Loki was standing in your way. Loki rolls his eyes, attempting to step past you before you somehow decidedly step in the same way. A nervous laugh bubbles past your lips, looking down to find Goose trotting around the both of you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, finally slipping past your soon-to-be partner. You don’t expect any words in return as you push out of the doors of the precinct.

—

taglist:  @quenilla @darkprincessloki92 @jessiejunebug

[the-canary]

Bel Ami - B.B (4)

Summary: You had bigger fish to fry in NYC between your new job, living in a new city and old friend – you were sure in over your head, but who’s that cute stranger that keeps helping you out?(Reader/Bucky Barnes) 

Prompt:  Person A: “Okay, I have something to confess… I like you. I have for the past two years now and it’s been killing me to hold it in this long but I think you deserve to know.” Person B: “You nerd, we’ve been dating for the past two years.

A/N: this is for @sgtjbuccky‘s writing challenge. please welcome to “you’re both idiots”. 

Feedback is always welcomed.

1 week later.

“So, she stopped showing up to the cafe?”

“Yeah, but I don’t blame her...What with the whole owner of where you work thing.”

“Buck, you seem really hungover this though. Are you sure you aren’t feeling more?”

“...”

It takes you a month to fully comprehend what you saw that morning when Bucky, whose real name was James Buchanan Barnes, had walked into your office. From what you understood, his family --an old New York family that had been building their money for years-- owned the whole building and several other within a block radius. No, James wasn’t the head hancouch of where you worked --the owner subleased the floor-- but he was a man with money and a great deal of power. You had also heard that he had dated several other woman that had caught his attention within the building over the years -- it was pass time of his.

It was extremely hard to place the picture of Bucky, sweet and cautious, along with Daisy with the one that James Buchanan Barnes that everyone seemed to be rumoring about.

The man hadn’t been seen in years, only until a few months back when his father passed away did he really starts to show up once more. You wondered if at one point he had seen you and decided to reach out when you got sick, if you were meant to be a new game for him now that he had came back to reclaim the throne of the Barnes Conglomerate.

It’s too much to think about and deep down it hurts, so you decide to push it all away. You’re a little sad, but your world isn’t meant for millionaires and playboys, so you close the book on ever meeting or seeing Bucky again.  

“Have you thought about it?” Winnie frowns as she notices that her son isn’t paying any attention to him, “You aren’t even listening, James.”

“No,” Bucky sighs out as he pets Daisy who simply looks at him with those big, blue eyes of hers, “You want a fundraising gala set up an attempt to find me a girlfriend. I know, I know.”

Blue meets blue as James gives his mother a defeated smile that can’t help her but make her pause. He had been like this for days, since they had gotten a tour of one of his father’s older buildings. Winnie knew that her son hadn’t been the same since coming back home from his tours of service all those years ago -- the charming, trade of all jacks, womanizer was gone and replaced with a more somber man. Due to this, George had decided to keep his son’s interactions with the family’s holdings to a limit and let him follow his own pursuits -- to wait until the time was right once more, though that had come sooner rather than later as George passed away early last summer.

James had been told to step up once more, but it caused more anxiety than anything else, especially with the last clause that his father had written out for him -- even in death George Barnes was still an eccentric.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Winnie can’t help but ask as she crosses the small Manhattan apartment that Bucky called his own, “I just worry about you, dear. It seems like you lost something.”

Bucky can’t help the laugh that escapes him at how intune his mother could still be with him: “Yeah, something like that.”

“Was it the dog foundation again?” Winnie asks, because the thing that seemed to take up most of her son’s time beforehand was the dog training service non-profit that he helped with.

Sometime after he came back, he thought about getting a service dog to help but instead found himself researching and getting the necessary license to help volunteer and train the animals -- like he was doing with Daisy at the current moment, who just stood still from at his side. Bucky shakes his head before passing a hand through his face in annoyance, trying to find the right words to everything.

“I think I fell for a gal I’ve been having those meetings with,” Bucky explains as Winnie gives him a confused look, “By accident, we run into each other from time to time.”

“I could see how that could be a problem,” Winnie nods in understanding. I mean, if they only saw each other from time to time -- there was no way that Bucky could really get her number or anything. His mother knew and understood that he wasn’t the charmer that made a lineup of girls sigh at his feet.

“That isn’t the main problem in all this, ma,” Bucky explain a bit more, as Winnie waits in silence, “I saw her the other day at the Tower, she works there.”

Winnie can’t help but let out a mix of a scoff and groan at her son’s revelation before placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder: “ Goodness, James. You never learn.”

“I really don’t’, ma. I really don’t.”

And with that, Winnie can’t help but keep moving forward with the plan for the fundraising gala.

However, fate seems to know that you are calling out to each other -- at least, Bucky is in the way he thinks about constantly since you stopped going to your shared cafe after the first week. The worry of whether you would reject him if he ever sought you out gave him sleepless nights and fatigue that he wasn’t sure how handle -- just a few chance meetings and Bucky could tell he was lovesick, even if he wasn’t supposed to be.

You, on the other hand, were more tamed about your pinning and while you saw things that reminded you of Bucky and Daisy in the month that followed -- you could still move on without much else in mind. You ignored that your heart lurched for a quick second.

However, fate is cruel to lovers that try to ignore that nature order of things, as you end up getting caught in the rain on Saturday afternoon with no umbrella and trying to save yourself underneath a large tree.

You’re shivering and cold when you see it -- a man and a dog (wearing a bright green raincoat)  making it down the road your way with an umbrella at hand.  You’re ready to yell out and ask for some help until you see who it really is.

Blue eyes meet your own, as Bucky heads towards your direction and placing the umbrella directly underneath you, as the dog -- a black and brown Lab mix looks up.

“Hey, are you okay?” he rushes forward, clearly not noticing who you are until you are face-to-face and the thought that he is willing to help anyone makes you smile for a brief moment. His eyes widen, as you move back for a moment, causing him to frown.

“Let’s get out of the rain,” Bucky pleas softly, as you look at him and then at the dog. He looks at you and lets out a little huff of air, almost as if annoyed, “I think Luke agrees too.”

“Okay, I’ll listen to Luke,” you throw him a bone as Bucky grins before leading you through Central Park. The walk is cold, lonely, and quiet as it seems that the park has emptied just a little due to the weather, but there was always people here and there but due to your lack of talking, it seemed lonelier than it should be.  

“Thank you,” you finally state timidly as you look up ahead halfway through your walk, as Bucky simply nods. It’s then you admit shyly: “I lost track of time at the library and I still can’t find my umbrella.”

“It’s a good thing that I found you then,” Bucky lets out awkwardly as you simply nod.

You nod in agreement, making out of Central Park along the way, before asking: “Is he another trainee?”

“Yup,” Bucky declares like a proud summer while look at the raincoat-clad dog, “Daisy is getting graduate, so they gave me a new pup to train.”

You can’t help but stare at him for just a moment, as a familiar thought raises from the back of your mind since you had heard all those rumors about him from the office ladies back at work.  

Doesn’t it hurt to move from one person to the other so quickly?

However, instead saying anything you let Bucky go on about how a good boy Luke is in his training and how Daisy has been doing. It almost reminds you of the last time you had seen him at the cafe before the “big reveal” and just how warm and caring Bucky seemed to people towards animals. And you too, is something that your heart added as an afterthought, but you ignored it as Bucky stopped in front of a bistro place and looks at you.

“Are you hungry?” he questions, “We could sit here and wait until the rain stop. I know they allow dogs.”

There’s a pleading look in his eyes, as Luke’s tail seems to start wagging over the smell whatever is cooking inside and why you want to say no -- that you should be heading into a minimarket, buying yourself an umbrellas, and heading home. Instead, you brush your hair back and nod. Bucky nods as you both enter and head towards the back.

He grabs you a menu before you sit in a medium booth with Luke standing near the end of the table. It might be because you’re out of the rain or that you actually agreed to eat with him, but there is something brighter and more carefree shining in Bucky’s face as he watches you gloss over the menu. There are a million things he could be saying or asking in this moment, but he goes with the safest.

“I know there might a lot of things running through your head right now,” he starts off as you give him a brief glance, trying to stay as calm as possible, “And I am willing to answer all your questions, but you have to promise me one thing.”

“What?” you dare to question, as Bucky pulls his hand out in front of you. Luke watches the interaction quietly.

“Friends?” Bucky questions, and that’s when you really look at him. He gives you bright but strained smile, trying his hardest to keep you in his life in some way, while push back the thought of just how cute you look in that moment.

You bite your lip for a brief moment and Bucky swears that he’s done for. However, your voice breaks his thought.

“Okay, Bucky,” you relent and pull out your own hand to shake his, “Friends.”

You smile as Bucky lets out a loud, relieved laugh before telling you that you could order anything you want on the menu and that Luke was getting a big steak -- much to the dog’s excitement.

It was a step on a different direction, but for now at least you still had each other.  

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Oblivion

Part Two: Can’t Fix Shit

A/N: We’ve seen what life of like for Logan and “Miranda” inside the park, but what about out in the “real” world?

WARNINGS: mentions and depictions of suicide, drug use, sex.

Word Count: 3,062

The room swam as your breathing slowed and the lights seemed to fade. Your head felt heavy and you couldn’t recall a time when your eyes were more tired, more desperate to close. You kept them open, trained on the thick crimson swirl in the pristine marble sink, mesmerized by the intricate patterns it made. That would be a great shade of lipstick, your barely there brain thought, I’d call it…”end it all red”. A sleepy, slightly delirious laugh slipped from your lips as your knees buckled and you collapsed to the ground, sinking against the vanity cabinet. The bottle of bourbon you’d swiped from Erik’s stash fell from the countertop as your elbow made contact on your way down, shattering and spilling what was left of it all over your legs, covering you in broken glass, little scratches and the smoky aroma of Erik’s most expensive vice. Oops... You tried to grab at the glass shards, tried to brush them off your legs, but your fingers wouldn’t do your bidding. You looked down at your hands and realized they were covered in blood. What… You watched it run down the lines of your palm and over the webbing between your fingers. You turned your hand over and saw that the diamond on your engagement ring-big, obnoxious, flashy chunk that it was- looked more like a ruby. You turned your hand over again before your eyes found the three small straight cuts running a few inches lengthwise on your pale wrist. Blinking hard against the floaters and shiners that were filling your vision, you managed to shift your gaze to the left, where next to what was left of the neck of the bourbon bottle, your mother’s pearl handled letter opener sat, the tip stained in “end it all red”.

As your head filled with static and your chest shook with each labored beat of your heart, the sound of hard soled shoes on the tile floor echoed in the cavernous bathroom. “No…” you muttered, that delirious quality still lingering in your voice. Even now, your body fighting for control of what you’d done to it, your mind slipping and your vision vanishing, the events of the evening came back to you. Your engagement party, your father’s bullshit speech about how happy he was that his little girl had found love, Erik’s stiff hold on you as the two of you danced, the way you felt like a prized pig on display at a fair, your fake smile aching your lips and cheeks. You recalled the amount that you’d drank, and how it did so little to curb the sickness that you felt when you thought about forever with Erik. His words in your ear as you danced with all the eyes in the room stuck on the happy couple; “You won’t embarrass me tonight like last time, do you hear me?” Your father taking you aside later to ensure that you were heeding Erik’s words, ensuring that you wouldn’t cause a scene or do anything to jeopardize your impending marriage... or the financial gain that merging Erik’s investment firm with his would mean. The footsteps rang closer as the static reached its maximum frequency, and a pair of arms slipped under your legs and behind your shoulders, lifting you off the floor. “No, no, no, no…” the word dribbled from your lips as Erik carried you down the hall, shouting for someone to call 911.

You couldn’t see him, eyes unable to focus on anything at all, but you heard his voice, muffled like it was travelling through water, and you could smell his cologne, burning your nostrils and choking you. He checked your pulse and brought a hand to your cheek before lowering his lips to your face and whispering your name. “You’re not doing this to me now…” The last thing you remember from that scene was the satisfied smile that crept up your lips at the fear in his voice: you knew that his firm needed the merge just as much as your father’s, and it was all hinging on the two of you getting married- keeping the business in the family. But you had no intentions of marrying Erik, and you’d do whatever you had to to make sure that you didn’t suffer that fate. Later that night in the hospital, as you lay there hooked to intravenous tubes and monitors, your father had said that he’d “fix” everything, make sure that you were relatively happy as you served your sentence as Erik’s wife. You looked at him, your face tear stained and full of pain, and answered “You can’t fix shit, dad.” He left your room then, and you didn’t see him again for a week.

That was nearly six months ago. After that incident, you had been kept on an even tighter leash than normal; under a closer eye and a more scrutinous lens. No therapy or rehab, of course, because the risk of that information leaking to the media would be bad press, but you were rarely allowed a private moment. Except for the three days a month when your father and Erik met with various Delos board members, ironing out details and working out the terms of the investment deal that they had been planning since talk of their firms merging began. Those three days were all yours, and they felt comfortable enough leaving you alone in the park while they met with people too important to bring you around, knowing that you couldn’t come to too much harm under the watchful eyes of park security. You were an asset to them, something they could trade and use to strengthen contracts, and neither of them did very much to mask that fact from you- you were used to it, having grown up with your father, having been groomed to be a prim and proper wife someday, to wear pearls and gowns at galas and smile in pictures, and perpetuate the myth that Harding Investments Incorporated was a solid, wholesome, deeply rooted American company. You weren’t sure how anyone in their right mind could buy that crock of shit. But then, you lived in a world where there existed a need for a place like Westworld- a place where you could lie, cheat and kill with no consequences; let alone the underlying interests in the technology that Harding and Delos were interested in- and you realized that in this world, no one was in their right mind, yourself included.

This was evidenced by the highly questionable game you were currently engaged in with the man who was laying ass up in the bed behind you, his quiet snores filling the room as you gathered your clothing and silently dressed. You didn’t know him, didn’t know what his story was, if he was clean or not, if he was abusive or dangerous, and therein lie the risk, the thing you craved most. He’d told you that his name was Logan after you’d made good on your promise to fuck him senseless, not stopping after that one mind blowing go, but letting him have his way with you a second time with a blow job thrown in the middle for good measure. You couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t lying about his name or playing a game like you, but something told you that he was telling the truth. You looked at his reflection in the mirror as you pulled your pants up over your thighs and noted the differences in his features as he slept. He looked peaceful, at rest, and not at all like the gruff, rough and tumble, borderline hedonistic cowboy you’d just done unspeakable things with. That’s not really you, is it, Cowboy? Suddenly you didn’t know which would be worse- if his name was a lie or the truth. You took one last look at him, eyes running over the perfect body that had just ravished yours, and quietly exited the room.

Before he’d fallen asleep, thoroughly spent not just from you but from the alcohol and the rigorous activity that you knew he was engaged in only minutes before you, he’d pulled you close and slipped his arms around your body. The feel of his skin making contact with yours in such an intimate manner was arguably more pleasurable than the last hour had been. You couldn’t remember the last time you were held like that, and you knew without a doubt that whenever it was it hadn’t felt this good. Part of you knew that this was never how he acted with the Hosts, and you wondered how much he believed your alter-ego story. You sighed against his shoulder, lips pressed to his clavicle, trying to control your breathing as he lazily trailed his fingers over your body- your hips, your abdomen, your arms...your wrists. Your eyes shot open as you felt the pads of his fingers trace the three raised pinkish lines that marred your left wrist. Shit, should have worn some kind of bracelet or something. Hosts didn’t have scars from suicide attempts. Hosts were perfect, and you were not.

“What’s this?” His voice was thick, mouth barely moving as he spoke, only half awake.

Your breath caught at his question, but you didn’t think he noticed, and you waited a few beats of your erratic heart before you answered, racking your brain for something that sounded scripted. “This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.” You twisted in his grasp and his fingers slid from your wrist to run the length of your spine, knuckles pressing into your flesh. “But let’s not talk about darkness, Cowboy.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you thought- hoped- he’d fallen asleep and forgotten about those damn scars, but then he tightened his hold on you as he spoke. “Logan...I told you, my name is Logan.”

. . . . . . .

What the fuck am I doing? It was the last thought that went through his mind as he held you and drifted off to sleep. Logan had always maintained a certain level of disconnect between himself and the Hosts that he fucked and killed, constantly reminding himself that nothing he was doing, nothing that he was seeing or feeling or experiencing was real, that it was all a very well crafted, meticulously detailed fantasy; that the power and the exhilaration and the ecstacy of it was all manufactured and meaningless- the most expensive cheap thrill around. He knew that. He’d known that from the start, from before he’d ever set his boot clad foot on that rickety train. But this one, this Host...Miranda...something felt different, and he hated the way it made him throw all that knowledge, all that acceptance of the illusion straight into the trash. They’re really making them lifelike if they’re giving them suicidal tendencies. Finally giving me something more my speed...But still...what the fuck am I doing?

What the fuck he was doing, was hoping beyond belief that Miranda...you...were real. He’d allow himself that hope for as long as he was in that room, and no further, knowing how dangerous it was to let the hope take root. Any other Host he’d been with had been submissive- sure they put up a fight if they’re prompted, they flirt and tease if they pick up on certain biometric cues, but they always ended up succumbing to whatever it was that he wanted, as they were designed to do. You, though, seemed to be operating according to your own will- calling him out on the gambling floor, taking control in the bedroom, even if it was just momentarily before you’d let him take the reins. It had been so long since he’d felt anything real, since he’d felt a reaction like the one that you invoked in him, that he’d all but forgotten that there could be more to sex than release. Outside the park, all of his conquests had been forgettable- due to the lackluster performance or the combination of alcohol, hallucinogens and speed, it wasn’t clear. He couldn’t even remember who the last person- real person- he’d fucked was: a man? A woman? Old, young? Was it someone new, a one night stand, or someone he’d kept on rotation? What did it matter- it hadn’t felt like this. He wondered if he’d ever find something real that felt like you, and for a moment he hated you for setting such an unrealistically high bar.

But unrealistic, unreachable bars weren’t new to Logan, so the hatred for you was fleeting. His father, James Delos, one of the Gods of Westworld, was notorious for dangling expectations just out of his son’s reach, and the hatred there was more deeply seeded. He claimed it was the only way to motivate a “deadbeat, drugged up, strung out, waste of time” like Logan, taking the “toss the kid in the pool” approach to teaching self-reliance and responsibility. It didn’t matter to him that this behavior, this part of his personality, this approach to life, to family, had driven his own wife to take her life. It didn’t matter that his son was never shown affection or approval. What mattered to him was his business, his legacy, and anything that could stain it was simply an obstacle that he’d find a way around and leave in the dust- even if that obstacle was his only son.

“Don’t fuckin show your face in the boardroom again until you get clean and land a deal worth running your mouth about, you hear me, boy? I won’t have you dragging down the name Delos with your foolish philandering and your weakness.”

“Weakness?” he’d scoffed, knowing all too well what he meant, but finding a sick satisfaction in watching his father actually say the words to him- in watching his father respond to him as the soulless monster that he was.

“Your addiction. Your destructive behavior…” those were answers Logan had heard time and again as he struggled to find something- anything- that he could grab onto in sobriety, something to keep him tethered to the moment and above the waves of doubt and pain and emptiness that constantly threatened to drown him. Those were the answers he expected from James Delos. The next word...just one word...was one he didn’t expect, one he hadn’t heard yet in this context. “You.” To his father, there was not one redeeming quality about Logan, nothing worthy of the legacy that James was building… nothing that told him that Logan should inherit the company one day. It didn’t seem to occur to him that that was because he’d done a piss poor job of raising him. Gods were never at fault. “And don’t tell me you’ll get clean, Logan. Don’t lie to me and tell me you’ll fix it. Show me. Because as far as I know, you can’t fix shit. You can’t even keep your own head on straight without snorting something up your nose or shooting something into your veins. So don’t waste your breath, boy, you’ll need it.”

Logan went through bouts of trying his hardest to finally catch that rabbit, but always came up short, like a tired dog after one race too many. If he couldn’t catch the rabbit, he could forget it, though, and he’d dive down the rabbit hole and into whatever vice, whatever coping mechanism, whatever poison could make him feel less like a failure; make him forget that he was reaching for something he’d never achieve. He’d nearly overdosed twice in the last four years, trying to forget that fucking rabbit, prompting the house staff to keep an accredited nurse on hand at all times- headlines announcing that the heir apparent to the Delos Corporation had landed himself in the hospital or rehab was simply something that James could not abide, consequences be damned.

Forgetting the rabbit was easier in Westworld. Sure, there were no hard drugs, nothing harder than moonshine, anyway, but there were endless opportunities to assert dominance and he took every single one that he came across in whatever form it presented itself to him. But Miranda...you... were the best distraction that he’d found in any of his many trips to the park or any of his escapades back home, and he wondered why that was...what was it about this one that made him soften his usually harsh edges, made him forget his number one rule and wish that you were real- that what he felt when he touched you, when you kissed him, when your bodies were entwined and your breath was on his skin was real? You’d gotten dressed and left that back room at the Mariposa while he slept, and he woke an hour later, naked, alone and left wanting for something that he knew he shouldn’t. Why?

He blinked his eyes open and ran his hand over the sheet where you had been, wondering if you hadn’t been a dream. Maybe he’d fallen asleep after that orgy and you’d simply been a figment of his now hung over imagination. But the tips of his fingers tingled and he vaguely remembered feeling the raised, rippled skin of your wrist and those three nearly unnoticeable scars. That wasn’t a dream...it happened...I don’t know if it was real, but it happened. Sitting up he looked out the window and saw that the sky outside had turned an inky black. He figured that Miranda had been called off to cater to the needs of another Guest. Lucky bastard, he thought about whomever that might be, as he stretched and redressed, but he felt something else rise up in his chest at the thought of your body doing for someone else what you’d just done for him, at the thought of your lips trailing along someone else’s skin, or your quiet breathing syncing with a different set of lungs- something like jealousy. What the fuck are you doing? He asked himself one more time, remembering your words when he’d asked you about the scars.

“This darkness I acknowledge is mine,” you’d said.

What did the Hosts know about darkness? Plenty, and he knew that. But the tone of your voice as you answered, the little intake of breath when he’d asked…

What are you, Miranda? Who are you?

@something-tofightfor @my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @ymariejp

Sorry if you were double tagged- something went fuckey and the whole post deleted. 🙃

[mythvoiced]

@enchcntd - THE OG GAYS, OFC — ultimate ship meme!

---

Send in two (or more) names and I’ll fill all this out about the ship!

General:

Rate the Ship -   Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - Uh? Forever? Obviously?

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight but it was definitely “good god, this is something”, at first sight (at least for Patrick) so I’m thinking it didn’t take that long, they were infatuated pretty early on, and they both feel Very Strongly, SO HERE THEY ARE

How was their first kiss? - It had the intention to become steamy because at first Patrick thought “yes, this’ll do it, this’ll show him my feelings” but then their lips touched in that random-ass bathroom stall in the men’s toilet at a gala event organised by one Anthony Sullivan, and it was just... slow sparks, it was the “we have to pull away after a literal second because neither of us can believe this is happening and oh god this is what i’ve been missing all my life, isn’t it”

Wedding:

Who proposed? - The absolute idiot that is Patrick Finch (said, of course, affectionately) he just kinda suggested it and well, hey, once you’ve put it out there, all you gotta do is get a ring and PUT IT ON IT because I’m mad Pat didn’t show up with a ring right away >:( but then again, it wasn’t exactly a planned proposal

Who is the best man/men? - We haven’t discussed this yet BUT ALLEN’S DEFINITELY THERE, I don’t know who’d apply for Spencer so feel free to scream the names at me <w< I don’t think either of them would want people who aren’t like, super close to them, though, right?

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Not applicable, but to be honest Liv should be IF yknow

Who did the most planning? - Patrick struggled a bit here because he’s used to planning things SOLO (comes from having a naturally strategical mind AND being alone for so long and all the time) but he wouldn’t want to just leave Spencer out of it when he’d know he’d feel bad if he couldn’t participate, so they probably balanced it according to their abilities... And then Pat’s mum Susan flew in and had to be physically restrained by Allen because planning a wedding is on her bucket list and she adores Spencer so she literally is usually sitting there, in a corner, waiting until she can help with something

Who stressed the most? - This would go to Spencer, right? Patrick does his own fair share of stressing on the daily (can’t he rest) but he having Spencer nearby calms him down ALSO because he wants to be calm enough to help Spencer when he’ll start stressing (this is probs the planning only, because I feel like if we’re talking about the idea of marriage itself, Patrick wouldn’t sleep for a week, but I dIGRESS, Allen is here during that period, he’ll smack some sense into him, don’t worry)

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Anthony Sullivan, Reginald Finch, and Patrick put off inviting Robert until his mother ripped him a new one

Sex:

Who is on top? - They both are... ON TOP OF THE WORLD because they are very deeply in love with one another

Who is the one to instigate things? - They haven’t worked their way up to that topic/situation yet and they both seem fairly comfortable with just letting it rest wherever it may be for a while longer, lmao

How healthy is their sex life? - Well, healthily nonexistent, LEAVE THEM ALONE Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - No Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - Fellas, I don’t even know if Spencer masturbates, I know Patrick doesn’t even do that, HOW AM I SUPPOSED-

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - Hypothetically speaking, because this is literally all we’re doing here (I’m tryna swerve this section, not gonna lie) the answer would be YES, although Patrick would be more inclined to take care of Spencer’s because for obvious reasons

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - None! Biology doesn’t work that way!

How many children will they adopt? - AT LEAST one, I don’t feel like they’re thinking of adopting another at the moment, BUT DEFINITELY one! Her Royal Highness Samantha Finch

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Sammy didn’t use diapers anymore when they adopted her!

Who is the stricter parent? - Patrick! Outwardly! He tries to be! He’s a big softie but he’s also terrified of losing her

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - BOTH! They’re quite apprehensive BUT at the same time, Patrick believes if a kid’s feet aren’t dirty at the end of the day, have they really lived the day? Falling of a low branch off a tree every so once in a while is okay, it depends entirely on what Sam can handle, because she may be on the spectrum, but he’s not made out of glass neither should she be treated as such, mic drop LMAO

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Kitchen is Spencer Terrain! Therefore, by extension, SPENCER!

Who is the more loved parent? - She loves them equally for different reasons! You can’t really compare them, because they’re two completely different beings and she adores them for who they are as individuals.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - Patrick would make it a habit to be around for them CERTAINLY because he wants not only to be there for Sam, but also for Spencer the first few times, thinking the idea would stress Spencer out. Not to mention, Patrick has a deep-rooted passion within him to go against every and all systems out there, so he’d want to be there right away if the school Fucked Up because that’s his daughter they’re talking about (but he’d also try to get Spencer to come every time because it’d be important to Spencer as well to be there, right?)

Who cried the most at graduation? - To be honest they probably spent 20 minutes just all three of them crying into the best family hug in the history of all family hugs

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Patrick, because he INVENTED trouble with the law, NAH omg hopefully neither

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Spencer! Patrick can cook well enough to keep himself alive, but Spencer is basically a CHEF at this point and well, it’s his thing :3

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Maybe Sammy? Patrick isn’t picky in the slightest, he’s very likely to eat something he doesn’t like either (at the end of the day he always be “everything’s better than trench food, so”) and Spencer doesn’t seem very picky? So if anybody had to pick that title, it’d probably be some child-pickiness

Who does the grocery shopping? - Who happens to! Depends on schedules and such, but I also believe that Spencer is more likely to, also because he’s the cook so Patrick would be constantly calling him anyway

How often do they bake desserts? - Any time Spencer would feel like it >:)

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Well, Spencer is a vegetarian so there’s that, Patrick definitely enjoys meat

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - SPENCER! Although, it depends, are we talking a dinner out or a dinner in, although it’s a dinner in either way right, SO SPENCER! Because he cooks. Patrick would surprise him with something else.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - PATRICK! But he means... OUT out, as in out into nature, on a field, for a picnic, or to star-gaze, he’s more likely too because if he can’t breathe fresh air at least once a day, he withers away (like a dog, yknow)

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - NEITHER! 

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - BOTH!

Who is really against chores? - NEITHER! I can see it being rather relaxing for both of them, just getting things done around the house

Who cleans up after the pets? - WHOEVER HAPPENS TO!

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - APPLE! Lmao

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - SPENCER! Because Patrick is just gonna boot them out if he doesn’t like them, he’s a master at skillfully kicking people out of places, but also because he’s taken to trying to be calm during situations like these so that Spencer can rely on him, so even if he WAS stressed, he’d probably get over it

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - SAMMY! It’s her Treasure

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - SPENCER! For the sole reason that Patrick’s showers are fast as lightning lmao and he doesn’t take baths

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - THEY DON’T OWN A DOG!

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - THEY DON’T MISS A SINGLE ONE EXCEPT FOR THANKSGIVINGS PATRICK DOESN’T PARTICIPATE IN THAT ONE LMAO

What are their goals for the relationship? - EVERYTHING THEY GOT RIGHT NOW TBH

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - NEITHER! Both seem pretty early risers

Who plays the most pranks? - PATRICK! I’m kidding IT’S APPLE

[haosvteen]

model!mingyu

requests: open

mingyu x reader

~ - fluff

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

kim mingyu 

the most well known model in the world he’d been in ad campaigns for the likes of gucci, balenciaga, and ralph lauren, among many others 

not to mention the numerous magazine covers he’s done 

some would even call him the most recognizable man in the world, becoming a household name due to his face being almost everywhere you look 

unfortunately, the press liked to create an image of him being a diva 

they’d report that he constantly threw fits on set and was just a nightmare to work with 

but you knew differently 

being mingyu’s assistant, you knew better than the press 

he was just a big goofball 

you can’t count the amount of times he’s asked you to go get him coffee and when you gave it to him, he tripped over his own two feet and dropped it 

he’d apologize profusely to everyone on set, insisting that he clean the mess up himself 

you couldn’t understand how anyone could say negative things about someone like mingyu 

 maybe it was because of the intimidating stare he give the camera which would later be plastered all over billboards, news stands, and televisions around the world 

but you knew him better than all of the news outlets and people that admire him from social media 

you were with him basically all day, every day 

you saw him happy, sad, angry, and even in that overly sleepy mood where everything is funny 

you knew he had a soft side too 

one day you were in the worst mood while at a shoot 

you’d barely gotten any sleep the night before, woke up late so you had basically no time to get ready, and head was pounding 

mingyu noticed that you seemed kind of off, so he told you to take a few hours to yourself 

that he could handle himself for a bit 

you took some medicine for your headache and had a short nap on the couch in his dressing room 

when you woke up, you were feeling much better 

but right when you walked out to the set, mingyu ran up to you even though he was right in the middle of modeling 

“i’m really sorry i tried taking all of the calls and scheduling some things but i think i messed it up and i don’t know what to do” he blurted out 

you gave him a reassuring look and told him to get back to work, you’d handle it 

after fixing the scheduling mistakes, the day was over and you were so excited to go home 

just as you were about to collapse on your bed, there was a knock at your apartment door 

you groaned and slowly made your way to the door 

when you opened it, there was no one there 

but there was a bouquet of flowers set on the welcome mat 

you were confused at first, but then you read the small card attached 

“y/n- i could tell you were having a rough day. i’m sorry for messing up the scheduling. i couldn’t do this without you. thank you. -mingyu” 

you smiled to yourself and brought the flowers into you apartment and put them in the middle of your dining table 

he did things like this often 

bring you little gifts, telling you that they reminded him of you 

or deciding to have lunch at your favorite place, even though he didn’t like it that much, because he wanted to treat you 

so you knew better than the media and it made you sad when he read what people said about him online because you could tell he was hurt, even though he tried his hardest not to show it 

you were sitting in a chair at mingyu’s current shoot, going through emails and making changes to his schedule when you got a call from his agent 

“hello?” you answered 

“hey y/n, what does mingyu have lined up for tonight?” they ask you 

you scroll on the calendar on your computer to double check, “nothing, he’s free after 4:00” 

“good, pencil in that he’ll be attending a gala tonight at 8:00” 

you hesitated for a moment 

you knew mingyu was looking forward to just spending a night in 

he even talked to you about how he was going to order food from all his favorite places and get caught up on some of the shows he’d been watching 

after debating in your head, you sighed, “okay, i’ll tell the stylists to be at his place at 6:00” and you hung up the phone 

mingyu came over and sat next to you at the table 

“who was on the phone?” he asked as he was unboxing the lunch you got for him 

“your agent” you said with an apologetic tone he rolled his eyes and sulked in his chair 

“it’s some sort of gala this time…” you said, being met with silence from the boy 

“but, hey, i’m sure it’ll be fun! maybe…” you said trying to be hopeful 

he looked at you with the most annoyed look you’ve ever seen, a piece of lettuce hanging out of his mouth 

you giggled at him, “plus, i’m sure they’ll have some kind of good food there” trying to lift his mood 

you sat in silence for a little bit while he was eating is lunch and you were looking at the calendar for the next few days 

“why don’t you just come with me?” he said out of the blue 

“huh?” you responded 

“yeah, why don’t you come with me? you know i hate going to these things alone,” he said, scooting his chair closer to you 

you just laughed at him there was no way you were going to go to a gala 

you didn’t even have the proper attire 

as if he knew exactly what you were thinking he said, “i’ll buy you an outfit” 

now it was your turn to roll your eyes 

“you don’t have to buy me anything because i’m not going” you responded, picking up your things, making your way towards the dressing room 

mingyu started following you like a lost puppy saying “please” about five million times 

eventually you turned around, “okay fine! i’ll go! but nothing too fancy, i don’t want to stand out. just something simple” 

“yesss! thank you so much” he said and planted a kiss on your cheek 

you froze in your tracks 

as he walked away he shouted, “you won’t regret it!” 

even though the tall boy had left the room, you were still in shock 

yes, you and mingyu were close 

you spent every day together basically 

but he’d never done….that before 

i mean, of course you were attracted to him 

everyone was, he’s kim mingyu 

but there’s no way he’d see you in that way when he could get literally any person in the world 

you shook your head to rid your mind of these thoughts and tried to get back to your work 

even though you had to suppress your blush for the rest of the shoot 

later that evening you arrived at mingyu’s apartment to help prepare him for the gala 

stylists were already there working on his hair when you walked in 

“oh, hey y/n!” he said, getting up out of the chair to hug you, much to the annoyance of the stylist 

before you had the chance to even have a conversation with him, you were whisked away into another room by two more stylists 

you didn’t know you’d actually have people doing your hair and makeup for this thing 

you thought you’d just put on an outfit and show up 

but that was dumb of you to think when you were arriving with model kim mingyu 

after about an hour of your hair being tugged and half a bottle of hairspray used on your head, you finally got to put the outfit on 

and, boy, mingyu sure did know you well 

it was simple and black, with a few lace details throughout 

once you had finished putting everything on, you looked at yourself in the mirror 

you’d never seen yourself this dressed up before 

mingyu definitely hadn’t either 

when you walked out into the living room, all you heard was a small, “woah” 

you looked up to see mingyu standing with his jaw hanging and eyes wide 

“what?” you questioned 

he just stood there looking at you 

“i, uh, nothing. you look really great,” he said, coming back to his senses 

“come on, goof. the car is here” you laughed walking towards the door 

sitting in the car on the way there, you started to get nervous 

this was all kind of thrown at you at once 

why were you doing this? 

you hadn’t even thought this through 

you weren’t “gala” material?? 

what made you think you’d be suited for this?? 

mingyu 

you’re doing this for him 

and looking at him next to you in the car made you feel more comfortable 

soon enough you were at the event 

when you stepped out of the car there were immediately flashing lights in your face and people yelling 

you looked around frantically for mingyu 

when you felt an arm snake around your waist looking up, you were relieved to see it was him 

he quickly guided in through the doors, but before the doors shut you heard people yelling, “mingyu, are you two dating??” 

you shrugged it off, telling yourself that you’d have a great time at the gala 

and you did 

being with mingyu was fun 

it wasn’t as boring as you thought it was going to be 

he’d make silly faces at you during some of the speeches among other antics 

but you couldn’t help notice the whispers and abundance of eyes on you two throughout the entire night 

after socializing for a little bit, you both got in the car to go back to your apartments 

the car pulled up to yours first and mingyu got out to walk you up 

“hopefully tonight wasn’t too terrible” he said 

you shook your head, “it wasn’t bad at all…and what did i tell you? that food was good” 

he laughed looking down at his shoes 

you did the same 

breaking the silence you said, “did you hear what some of the paparazzi were saying?…that they think we’re dating or something crazy like that?” 

“is it really that crazy, though?” mingyu asked, looking up at you 

you were at a loss for words 

you didn’t know what to say to that 

of course you had feelings for him, but you had no clue where this was going 

he continued, “i mean, it wouldn’t be that crazy for us to…ya know” 

“would you…want to? date me, i guess?” you asked having a spark of courage 

shifting his weight from one foot to the other (a nervous habit of his), “i’d be lying if i said i never thought about it before…i’ve thought about it a lot, actually” 

you felt your face begin to heat up 

“so, yes,” he said. “yes, i’d want to date you” 

a smile slowly started to form on your face 

you wrapped your arms around his neck and said, “why don’t you try properly kissing me this time” 

he laughed at you and started to lean in 

seconds later, you were the happiest girl in the world 

[batfam-imagines]

Single Mom

Let me know what you think!

Being a single mom was not something that you had ever expected your future to hold. Having to leave your home in Star City and go back to Gotham in order to get you and your baby away from an abusive ex even less so.

“Thanks for letting me stay with you, Roy”

“It’s no problem, Y/N, you and Jackson are welcome to stay as long as you want. Trust me, I know all about needed to get away from Star City”

You reach out and pull your cousin into a tight hug, “We won’t be staying long, I already have a job and just need to look for an apartment”

“Don’t worry about it. I know that Gotham can be a difficult city to find a safe apartment in.”

“Tell me about it, luckily your dad sent in a good word to Bruce Wayne and I’m going to be his new secretary. It’s a surprisingly good salary, hopefully I’ll be able to save enough to get us out of Crime Alley – Not that your apartment isn’t nice! I just -”

“You just don’t want to raise a three year old in Crime Alley. Don’t worry, I understand”

“You can come live with us, get to a better neighborhood”

Roy ruffles your hair, “Nah, cousin, I like it here, this place has grown on me. And plus, if I leave whose gonna make sure that the girls on the corner ain’t pushed around?”

“So you look out for the hookers?”

“They’re sweet ladies, they just gotta do what they gotta do. I just make sure that the Johns don’t get too rough, and if they need a snack I’ll toss down a few things”

“You’re such a bleeding heart, Roy!”

“I can’t help it! They have kids and some guys can be assholes”

You let out a dry chuckle, “I know all about guys being assholes. Trust me”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N” Roy pulls you down onto the couch, “Do you think Jacks will remember anything?”

“I hope not, the only time he really saw Lyle hit me was when we were trying to leave, at least I hope that’s the only time he saw it. Jackson’s a smart kid though, hopefully he’s too young to remember anything.”

“You think he’s gonna try and sue for custody?”

“I sure as hell hope not”

Roy smirks, “For his sake I hope to hell he stays far away from Gotham”

--

Six months later finds you in your own apartment in a much nicer side of Gotham than Roy’s apartment in Crime Alley. Jackson’s been enrolled in pre-school, and then goes to daycare while you’re at work.

“Mommy!”

You kneel down, easily catching your son in your arms, “Hey, pumpkin! I missed you”

“I missed you too, Mommy!”

Scooping up the now four year old boy you turn and head back to your car, “I have a little bit of work that I still need to do at the office, okay sweetheart? Will you be a good boy and draw me a picture while I work?”

The smile your son gives you is bright enough to warm your heart, “Yeah! And I can tell you about my new friends!”

“Of course, Jacks, of course. You know I always want to hear about your day”

Jackson continues to talk while you drive back to WE, “And everyone’s my friend! Even the teacher is really cool! She says that I’m super smart because I already know how to write my name and read some!”

Thankfully Jackson’s always been eager to learn. He took to reading relatively quickly, and even wants to try learning how to speak another language. The woman down the hall from your apartment likes to speak to Jackson in Italian, and has started to teach you and Jackson a few phrases.

“Did you show her that you can add and subtract too?”

“No, Mrs. Ellie said that we get to do math tomorrow, so I have to wait”

“Well, if you want you can practice your math when we get inside, just to make sure that you haven’t forgotten anything”

Jackson’s eyes light up, “Yeah! You’re so smart Mommy”

“Thanks, pumpkin”

Once you get Jackson set up with his math problems, several sheets of paper, and a cup of juice, you can finally finish your work for the day. Most people think that being a secretary is easy work, and it might be if you worked for anyone other than Bruce Wayne. Mr. Wayne who was constantly canceling or rescheduling meetings, having some kind of scandal, or hosting some kind of party, was a lot of work to keep up with.

“Mommy?”

“Hmm?”

“How long are we gonna be here? I’m hungry”

“I’m almost done, sweetheart. I just need to make a few more of these invitations so I can send them out tomorrow and then we can go.”

“Y/N?”

You whip around, coming face to face with your boss. “Mr. Wayne?! What are you doing here so late? I though you left at 3 today”

Bruce raises an eyebrow, “I could ask you the same thing considering I know you left at 5 pm, but here you are at 6:30pm and still working”

“I – I had to pick up my son” you make an aborted gesture towards the four-year-old, “and I had to come back to finish these invitations for the gala in two weeks …”

“I didn’t even know that you had a son”

“Well, I try not to bring up my personal life at the office, I mean I’m just your secretary Mr. Wayne”

“Yes, but you’ve been with me for over six months and I still never knew that you had a son. Hasn’t he gotten sick or anything?”

“Well, my cousin Roy can usually watch Jackson when he’s sick so I don’t have to take time off work. I mean I can’t really afford to miss much, it’s a little difficult to be a single mom and pay rent. I was only just recently able to move out of Crime Alley and I’d like to be able to stay out of there”

“I’m … sorry. I always asked you to work weekends, or come in after hours. I never realized you had a son” Mr. Wayne pauses for a minute, “You mentioned your cousin. Roy? Would that happen to be Roy Harper?”

“Yeah, actually. Do you know him?”

“He and my sons, Jason and Dick, are good friends”

“Yeah, he mentioned a Jason and Dick, but I never got the chance to meet them before I moved out.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry”

“Sorry, baby, I’m almost done. Do you want some fruit snacks?”

“Yeah!” You quickly pull out a pack of fruit snacks and pull it open. “Thanks”

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Wayne, but I need to finish this up so I can figure out some dinner”

“Actually, I was going to go to dinner with my sons and I wanted to know if you and Jackson would like to come. It’d be my treat”

“I can’t ask that of you, Mr. Wayne”

“Call me Bruce, and I insist. You’ve made my life so much easier these past few months that dinner for you and your son would be the least I can do. What do you think, Jackson? Would you like to go out for dinner with my sons and I?”

“Yes, please!”

You narrow your eyes at your boss, “What was a dirty trick, Mr. Wayne, using my own son against me”

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just dinner. And three of my sons are close to your age, I know that you don’t have very many friends your own age, not with how much time you spend here and then with how much you must spend with your boy”

“Please, Mommy? Can we please go? I promise I’ll be good and I’ll use all my manners”

“Fine, we can go, but you have to clean up after yourself first”

Jackson scrambles to get everything in order. He puts all of his papers in his backpack, and throws away his juice cup and snack wrapper. “All clean”

“All right” Quickly logging out of your computer and gathering your own things, you turn back to the billionaire, “So, where are we going?”

--

You all arrive at the small diner at the same time. “Boys, I’d like you to meek Y/N and her son, Jackson. She was working late tonight and though it would be nice if they joined us”

“Hi, I’m Dick” The man grins, his blue eyes sparkle with the light of a man that’s seen a lot in his life, but still manages to see the good in everyone. “It’s really nice to meet you guys” He doesn’t seem to know how to handle Jackson though, so it’s obvious that he’s never been around kids.

The second man that steps forward is huge. He’s about as big as Bruce, but he has gunmetal grey eyes and a strange white streak in his hair. “I’m Jason” As soon as you let go of his hand Jason crouches down and smiles at Jackson, “Hey, big man. My name’s Jason, what’s yours?”

The little boy grins and to your surprise darts forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Jason’s neck. “My name’s Jackson, but mommy calls me Jacks”

Jason pulls back slightly, a soft smile on his handsome face, “Oh yeah, bud? And what does your daddy call you?”

You twitch not expecting the question, but before you can even open your mouth Jackson answers, “Well, my father liked to call me bad names, like bastard and little shit, and he used to hit mommy, but mommy and me left to come here and live with Uncle Roy”

Everyone paused, either in shock or in horror at what Jackson had just said. Slowly crouching down and pulling Jackson away from Jason, “Baby, we talked about this, remember? We said that we weren’t ever gonna tell people about your father and what he did.”

“I know, but -”

“You promised that you wouldn’t tell people, Jackson. When people ask where your father is you tell them …”

“That I don’t have one” Jackson’s lip wobbles, “’m sorry, mommy”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come on, lets meet everyone else and then we can eat, alright?”

“Okay”

--

Dinner is a surprisingly fun affair. It’s full of the brothers constantly picking at each other, Bruce trying to control his sons, and your own son’s laughter. Jackson seems to bond even more with Jason and, to everyone’s apparent surprise, Damian.

Damian places the menu on the table, “No, Jackson, chocolate milk is obviously superior to plain milk, so that is what we shall get”

“You like chocolate milk too?!”

“tt – of course.”

“Mommy, can I have chocolate milk?”

“Only a small cup, I don’t want you to have too much sugar before bedtime”

Jackson’s smile is bright, “Thank you!”

Jason smiles at you, watching his youngest brother and your son debate which is better, grilled cheese or chicken nuggets. “He’s a cute kid”

“Thanks”

“He’s pretty damn smart too. He was telling me about his math and reading when you were talking to Tim and Bruce about work.”

Your eyes soften when they fall on your boy, “He’s always been smart and he soaks up new information like a sponge. He likes to watch animal documentaries instead of cartoons, and one of my neighbors is teaching him a little bit of Italian.”

“Even smarter than I thought” Jason’s eyes meet yours, “You know you’re pretty awesome too”

“I just your dad’s secretary, Jason”

“You’ve also gotten yourself out of an abusive relationship, and are raising a pretty awesome kid”

A blush starts creeping up your cheeks, “Thank you. You seem to be pretty good with kids you know”

“Before Bruce adopted me I lived in Crime Alley, there were a lot of kids on the street that needed to be looked after. I honestly think that kids can sense that I’ve had experience, that I like to be around kids”

The chocolate milk comes for Damian and Jackson, when Damian just tries to drink it Jackson shows him the wonder of blowing milk bubbles, “I was surprised when he hugged you. Ever since we left his father he’s been wary of strange men, the only man he really likes is Roy. Damian I can understand because he’s young, but you’re huge and basically a stranger”

“Kids have pretty good instincts, especially ones who’ve witnessed abuse”

Jackson lets out another shrieking giggle, this time at Dick and Tim fighting over the last French fry, “You guys are just really good with him” Dick starts whining when he realizes that Jackson stole the fry among all the fighting. Bruce calls the waitress over and orders another three servings of fries.

“So, I know that we only just met, but I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime? Like on a date?”

“Yes!” Both you and Jason look at Jackson in surprise, “Say yes, mommy!”

“You want me to go on a date with Jason?”

Damian snorts, “tt – you would be an acceptable partner for Todd, much better than any other woman he has brought around. The child is also acceptable, I quite enjoy his company”

“Glad we have your approval, Demon Brat, but it’s up to Y/N whether or not she wants to go out with me”

Giving Jason a shy smile you nod, “I think I’d really like to go out with you, Jason. I mean Roy had some pretty good things to say about you, and if you’re his best friend than I guess you must be a pretty good guy”

Jason’s grin is blinding, and Jackson cheers, “Yay, mommy!”

--

Jason’s out patrolling, making one last round before heading in for the night. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since Y/N said yes to a date, but that smile is quickly wiped off his face when a red arrow hits his helmet.

“Hood!”

Jason yanks off the helmet, looking up in shock at his best friend, “What the fuck, Roy?! Did you just shoot an arrow at me?!”

“That was a warning shot. You hurt my baby cousin or her boy and the next time I shoot, you won’t be wearing the helmet. Understand?”

“Yeah – Yeah I understand”

Slowly Roy unnotched his arrow, sliding it back into his quiver, “Good. Jay, I love you like a brother, but I’m serious, you hurt either of them and I’ll kill you”

[differentjokes4differentfolks]

WTFIT Chap 10

Chapter ten!! I think it’s safe to say the fic is more than halfway done :) As always, thanks for the comments and likes/reblogs. I’m glad y’all like the story. Enjoy!!

Bruce swears if Vicki Vale was a villain she’d be unstoppable. He spends an hour alone trying to dodge her questions, his phone ringing incessantly (How did she even get his number?). When the mob of reporters shows up on his front step he tries to have Alfred shoo them away, but they’re like vultures. The camera flashes annoy him to no end, you don’t need camera flashes in broad daylight anyway (he thinks). The interview goes on for about an hour. He doesn’t mind some of the questions, no, he’s not straight, yes, he’ll donate to LGBT organizations (he donates to them anyways). But some are insulting and honestly? Some are just straight up kinky. He ends up just staring at one reporter after a certain question about leather, at a loss for words. So, in a curt fashion he ends the interview, loosening his tie as he enters the manor and heaving a sigh of relief.

“What was that about?” Dick asks, dressed to head out to Barbara’s. His hair looks stiff with gel, which makes Bruce frown and mess it up. Dick protests but Bruce cuts him off.

“You look better like this,” he says, “You’re not going to an interview, you’re going to hang out with your girlfriend.”

“Fine. But why was the press here?”

“Why do they ever show up? For information and uncomfortable conversations.” Dick looks confused, so he decides to enlighten him. “People saw me dancing with a man yesterday at that restaurant and Gotham was in an uproar.”

Dick blinks. “You’re gay? Or bi?”

“Maybe. Probably.” Bruce laughs awkwardly. Dick shrugs.

“So what? Why do they have to make a big deal out of nothing?” He kneels down to tie his shoelaces. “I mean, it’s just who you love, not that world-changing. You should call them when you find out who Batman really is,” he jokes.

Bruce hums in agreement. “So what do you and Barb have planned?”

Standing up, Dick runs a hand through his already messed up hair. “You know, I was thinking we could sightsee. Or maybe watch a movie. Or stay at home and do something. I’m not picky.”

An idea springs into Bruce’s head. “Take her to a cafe. There’s a great one across Wayne Tower, they have really good cheesecake.”

“Really?” Dick furrows his brow. “I think I know which one you’re talking about. You’ve gone? Doesn’t seem like your kind of venue.”

“I had nothing else to do. And if I hadn’t gone I would’ve missed out.” He edits out the real story, but the last bit is true.

“Alright. Well, I should go. I’m taking the Lamborghini.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Don’t get it scratched up.”

“C’mon Bruce, you know me.” Dick winks. Yes, he does. As skilled a driver as he is, he’s still totaled a couple of Bruce’s best cars. “I’ll be back before nightfall.” He exits, leaving Bruce to slip out of his coat. Today is going to be a relaxing day, he promises himself. No going out, no phone calls, no anything. His eyes are half-shut when he falls onto the couch.

And then his phone rings.

With a groan Bruce looks at the caller ID. No name; it could be anyone really. Fine. He answers.

“Hello?”

“So I heard you were in the East End last night.” Selina. Bruce can hear the annoyance in her voice.

“I had a good reason. Scarecrow and Black Mask were there. They were going to poison the water system if I didn’t stop them.” Bruce turns on the TV, idly clicking on the remote.

“Really. And you didn't tell me?”

“I had a lot on my mind.” He stops flipping at a Harry Potter marathon. How many times have they marathoned this on TV in the past couple months? It’s almost constantly running. And if he’s exaggerating, it’s not by much. He leaves it on as background noise.

“Look, I appreciate you stopping them. Just tell me next time. When I saw Nightwing there I was about ready to knock him out. Didn't he tell you?”

He’d failed to mention that, actually. “Did he explain why?”

“Yes. I don’t like this, Bruce. It’s been so long since something like this has happened. Don’t get me wrong, taking a few millionaires down a peg or three doesn’t sound awful. But killing them all?”

“I know. But I’m going to fix it.”

“Tell me when you’re done, maybe we can do something, it’s awfully cold and the fireplace is roaring,” she purrs. Bruce rolls his eyes, but he can’t help a smile.

“You don’t have a fireplace.” The woman on the other end of the line laughs, and Bruce joins in. Once the laughter fades he says, “I’ll see you later, Selina,” the mirth in his voice audible.

“Bye, Batman.” She hangs up, her laugh the last thing Bruce hears before the phone clicks. She’s a valuable friend, he realises. He enjoys her company for what it is, upfront, witty, and relaxed. But it’s just that, that softer feeling of friendship, not unlike what he feels for Clark, or even Jim Gordon. He leans back on the couch, watching as Harry faces off against Voldemort. He can’t help but feel critical. Villains are rarely that one-sided.

Sitting on the couch got boring pretty fast. Countless pushups and crunches later and he feels more productive, though when he checks the clock it’s only eleven in the morning. What could he do to pass time? He glances at the phone. His finger taps at the leather of the couch rapidly. It might not be a good idea. It probably isn’t a good idea. But…

He turns on his phone, Joker’s number already in the contacts. The phone rings once...twice…

“Hello?” Damn, he’s not ready for this. It feels too casual all of a sudden. He hesitates. Joker’s voice is bright though. “Bats, is that you?”

“Hi, Joker.”

“It’s been a while.” It really hasn’t, it’s only been a few hours, but Bruce isn’t about to tell him that. “Oh, have you seen the newspaper, dear? We look amazing.”

“You saw that?”

“Saw it? I scrapbooked it!” Bruce can imagine the smug look on Joker’s face. He also thinks he knows the man enough that yes, he did in fact scrapbook it. He’s seen pictures up on the walls of his hideouts before, newspaper clipping and old Batman sightings from when he was just getting started. He still doesn’t know how to respond. It’s strange. “...You did call me, Batsy. Getting cold feet?”

“No.” Bruce’s defensiveness spikes. “You sound like you’re in a good mood, though.”

“Oh, I am.” Joker giggles. “Can’t compare to whenever I see your devilish good looks, but it’s a close second.” Shameless flirting. Okay. He can deal with this.

“Miss me?”

“Always.” Bruce can hear the smile in Joker’s voice. “My other half, the one who beats the crap out of me whenever I wreak havoc. When are we getting back to that, by the way? I miss our little sessions.”

Bruce snorts. “You miss that?”

Joker laughs. “Well that was an attractive sound. And yeah, I do actually.” He sighs. “Don’t you?”

As a matter of fact Bruce does. He hasn’t thought about it much, but it’s true. Fighting on rooftops in the rain, kicks and punches as fluid as a dance. Moves like reflexes. Adrenaline. “Yeah, I guess I do. This is the longest you’ve been around me without an actual fight.”

“Too monotonous.” A voice calls out in the background, Joker’s voice quieter as he tells the speaker to shut up. The voice answers back more animatedly, to which he replies with exasperation. Bruce figures it’s Harley in the background. He waits till the talking stops.

“So? What are you doing? Should I be worried?”

“It’s a secret. You’ll find out soon enough.” There’s a crash on the other end. Bruce frowns.

“What was that?”

“Darling, don’t worry about it. Trust me, you’ll like the surprise. I know I do.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so.” Another crash. “Gotta go, I’m working right now. Ciao!” Joker ends the call abruptly, Bruce blinking at the short response. He’s suspicious, but knows he won’t get any answers until tonight. He slowly sets the phone down. And wishes the sun was setting.

*

He decides to let Tim come along tonight. He did a fair job in helping him and Dick out last night, and he does keep a level head for the most part. He’ll be working with Jason though, making sure there isn’t anything wrong at the Gotham Observatory, where the Gala will be held. Dick will be coming with him and Joker to the docks, but first he decides to check out Ace chemicals.

The weather is actually nicer today, the night still safe a slight breeze. There’s no report of snow, yet he can see a few flakes drifting in the cold October atmosphere. He breathes in the cold air, the sharp chill of it waking up his senses.

Bruce hasn’t visited Ace Chemicals in months. It hasn’t changed much, the plant only up and running half the time. Recently it’s been closed down for “remodeling”. He assumes that’s still the case, if it’s being used as a base. His instincts tell him it’s rigged in some way, but he won’t know until he gets closer. So he does, grappling to the top and looking in through a window.

The whole place is decked out in greenery, vines twisting about on the floor. Ivy. But there are also hints of something else, more Joker-ish in nature. A colourful box here, some toys strewn about. He purses his lips. Okay, so Joker has a hand in this. This must be the surprise he was talking about. He can’t say he wasn’t expecting it, the way he was talking earlier, and the fact that Harley was there. It’s a challenge. Just not one he has time for.

Bruce glances around, seeing a grate he can enter through. The closer he can get the better.

He’s inside when he hears Joker’s voice through speakers.

“What do you think, Bats? Interesting, right? Just wait.” A laugh.

Bruce takes out a few men, dodging and cutting at vines that rush at him. The factory only holds about a dozen thugs, not counting Harley, Ivy, and Joker. And it isn’t too big a complication. Though Ivy is obviously getting a kick out of it. There are plants everywhere. He can handle it, but those on top of armed henchmen he’s wasting time. He brushes by them, not discriminating, his goal just on the control room.

Harley lands in front of him, grinning. “What’s up, B-man?” She throws a punch, Bruce dodging and retaliating. Her blows don’t land, Bruce avoiding them easily, landing a hit. Harley grits her teeth, but instead of recoiling she uses the momentum for a kick. It hits Bruce’s side. He grunts, but the pain isn’t enough to stop him from knocking her back.

“Get back before I knock you out,” Bruce warns. Harley pretends to think about it.

“I think I’m good, you know? This is way more fun!” She jumps at him, landing a solid kick to his side. Again and Bruce blocks a second kick, knocking her away. She comes back in with a flurry of punches laughing as Bruce tries to block them. It’s when she lands a hit to his jaw that Bruce decides to act, ducking and throwing a punch at her stomach. In her haste to avoid the blow she missteps, and he takes that opportunity to pulls her towards him, twisting her arm behind her back.

She cries out in pain, and that’s when Ivy decides to join in. Large thorns erupt from the ground around them, Bruce stepping back with Harley. He makes quick work of tying her hands together, watching the floor warily.

“Gotta say, this is way more interesting than any movie I’ve seen!” Joker’s voice rings out. Bruce aims a look at the control room, narrowing his eyes. A vine snakes towards him, Bruce cutting it in two with a batarang. When Ivy reveals herself her eyes are blazing.

“How dare you hurt my babies?”

“And me,” Harley calls out. Bruce lets Harley drop to the floor, the woman falling with an “ow”. One of Ivy’s vines picks her up, placing her to a side before rushing at Bruce. He kicks at the plants, making his way closer to Ivy. Leaves slash through the air like throwing knives, a couple knicking Bruce, sharp like papercuts. He pushes on, avoiding thorny barriers and feeling as though he was walking through a deadly jungle.

It’s too late when Ivy realises Bruce has the upper hand, a few steps ahead of her. He knocks her to the ground, hand pinned on her neck. She hisses in anger, but he quickly places a blow to her temple that knocks her unconscious, her plants writhing before dropping to the floor. He glances up at Harley, who pouts.

“You’ll get what’s comin’ to you Batman! Just wait!” Her smile turns sly. Bruce drops Ivy off next to her, making sure they’re both bound tightly enough that they won’t get free any time soon. Time to go up into the control room. He steps over plants on the stairs, the windows streaming light. He guesses whatever he came for is there, as is Joker.

When he walks in there’s no sign of anyone, but he finds schematics of the observatory, as well as explosives and masks. Good, it’s all there. He places a tracker, knowing Joker is behind him the moment he hears a quiet click. He turns slowly. And his reflexes take over to avoid a kick to the head, a flash of purple that rushes past his eyes and causes him to jerk back. Bruce grabs at Joker’s leg, throwing the clown off balance and tossing him across the room. Joker hits the ground laughing, on his hands and knees. He stands up to run at Bruce again, a spark in his eye. Ducking before Bruce can knock him down, Joker doesn’t hesitate in throwing a punch that brings stars to Bruce’s eyes. He lunges again, a quick strike that gives Bruce only seconds to deflect. Another punch, a cuff to the head. He’s aggressive with his attack, Bruce waiting for the opportunity to retaliate. When he does Joker’s leg is just close enough for Bruce to kick at, throwing the man off balance. Bruce pushes him back with a hit to the chest that knocks the breath out of his lungs. Joker stumbles back, giving Bruce the opportunity to pin him against the wall, unable to attack again. The man gives a breathless laugh, eyes level with Bruce's.

“So, now what, Dark Knight?” he asks, resting his forehead against Bruce's. They're both breathing heavily, exchanging breaths in the messy room.

“You realise I'm running out of time, right?” Bruce frowns at Joker's careless little shrug.

“That's what your bat-brats are for, Brucie. You needed a little... distraction.” Joker smirks, Bruce not relaxing his grip. “Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it.” He places his hands on Bruce's waist, sending shivers through his body even through the layer of armor.

“Not the point.” He pulls back a bit, but Joker doesn't let him go, eyes half-lidded. His expression unnerves Bruce, but it also makes his heart beat rapidly, chest still heaving. “What are you doing?”

He barely has time to react as Joker presses his lips to his. Bruce makes a small sound of surprise.

This. This is crazy. He’s thought about it but now that it’s happening it’s all he can do not to short-circuit.  A rush of warmth suddenly hits him and he melts, deepening the kiss and pressing against the wiry man. He cradles Joker’s face in his hand, feeling warmth through his gloves. Joker’s trying not to smile into the kiss, he knows that, he can feel it, that slight pull to his mouth that only makes Bruce want to kiss him more. He tastes of cotton candy and something slightly chemical, a metallic tang that should be a deterrent but isn’t. It’s just something that fits, surprisingly.

Joker loops his arms around to pull Bruce down towards him, nails scratching at his cowl. Bruce almost loses himself completely, but the nagging in his mind reminds him of the task at hand. Which, if he weren’t Batman he would ignore it, but being a hero...

“We have to go,” he tries to say, the words turning to a mumble as Joker recaptures his mouth. Bruce lets himself enjoy a few more seconds before he puts his hand to the wall to steady himself. When he pulls away, Joker lets out a quiet whine of annoyance. “Joker. The docks.” Joker opens his eyes, his makeup more of a mess than usual, his pupils dilated so that only a thin ring of green is visible around them.

“Five more minutes.” He grabs at Bruce, who pushes him away firmly. “Bats.”

“We need to get to the docks, J.” He makes to turn away when Joker tugs him back.

“Wait. You have lipstick on your mouth,” Joker says with a satisfied little smirk. “Now that’s a look I could get used to.” Bruce’s knows his face is flushed but Joker continues, pulling out a handkerchief. “Wouldn’t want your little bat-family to see though.”

He helps Bruce clean it off, Bruce protesting, “You don’t have to say ‘bat’ in front of everything.”

“Well let’s see. Batman, Batmobile, Batsuit, Batarangs, Batwing...kind of a running theme,” Joker points out. Bruce is unable to come up with a good comeback. The clown looks over Bruce until he can’t see any traces of paint. When he’s satisfied he nods, reapplying his own. Their breathing is steadier, though Bruce still feels like he’s floating. It’s an odd, light feeling, his nerves are on fire but in the nicest way possible. He smiles uncertainly at Joker. The man beams before kissing him again lightly. “Alright, we can go to the docks now. Nightwing is going to meet us?”

“That’s the plan.”

They head down the stairs, where they find Harley free of her bonds and cradling Ivy’s head in her lap, Ivy murmuring about how next time they should just plan a picnic at a garden. She glares when she sees Bruce, but Harley’s eyes are on Joker, whose smug expression is clear on his face. She winks at Bruce, who suddenly wants to sprint out of the factory, grapple onto a very tall building, and jump.

Instead he settles for a warning. “If I hear anything else from you two the rest of the week I’m dragging you down to Blackgate myself.”

Harley leans back, smiling crookedly. “We got it, Batman. We’ll be quiet as mice, won’t we, Red?”

“Stop hurting my plants or you’ll be in a body bag, Batman,” Ivy says, the severity of her gaze not lessening. Bruce nods.

“Noted.” He gestures to Joker to get a move on, the clown walking up to the Batmobile before him. They get in, Joker turning the radio on. He cringes when the only thing that plays is the police scanner.

“Please tell me you have music.”

“I don’t have time for music when I’m in this car,” Bruce says, thinking it obvious. He’s not going to jam out to tunes when people are in danger. That’s pure evil.

“It adds to atmosphere! Imagine racing after baddies listening to ACDC! Or maybe some obnoxious pop song, I don’t know. What kind of music do you like?”

Bruce doesn’t reply. Usually he listens to older tracks, unless Dick or Tim plays the newest song. But he doesn’t like anything specific really. Joker looks at him expectantly. “...Eighties music. Journey.”

Joker nods. “Not what I had in mind, but I can see that.” He opens the window, cold air rushing in. Whooping and laughing in delight, he sticks his head out, eyes closed. He only comes back in to ask how fast it can go. Bruce smirks, pushing down on the gas till they’re a blur. Joker finds himself pushed back into his seat, cackling at the rush.

One of the perks of being a vigilante? No one questions when you’re speeding.

*

The docks look the same as they did on Monday, though this time Dick waits for them near the entrance.

“You guys took your time. I’ve been waiting for at least fifteen minutes.”

Bruce glances at Joker, who raises an eyebrow. “There were...complications that held us back. Anyways,” he gestures to the clown. “Lead the way.”

Joker cracks his knuckles, rolling back his shoulder like he’s about to put on a show. “Gladly. Ozzie’s got eyes everywhere, but if we go through the docks he won’t expect it.” He strides into the maze that is the docks, humming the mission impossible theme. Dick looks at Bruce out of the corner of his eyes, but Bruce doesn’t respond, starting after Joker. They’re headed in completely the opposite direction, more towards the shipyards themselves then around the shipping containers, the slight creaking of the ships putting Bruce on edge. It makes complete sense that Penguin would have a ship though. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to be extra cautious, some of his worry from earlier this week making a reappearance.

When they arrive where they need to be Joker stops them, holding his arms out. He then points to a large ship that towers over them.

“That’s the one. If Ozzie is there then your job is done,” he says.

Dick squints at him. “Are you trying to jinx us?”

Joker scoffs. “Believe me, if I wanted you to fail you wouldn’t be here right now. I’m rooting for you guys.” He wraps an arm around Bruce, the latter jolting away. Joker just grins.

Dick looks at them oddly. “Right. I’ll just scope around the other side, see if I can find a different way in. Divide and conquer, right?” Bruce inclines his head in agreement.

“Be careful.”

“You too.” Dick runs off, Bruce following him with his eyes until he disappears. He turns to Joker after, crossing his arms. Joker raises his hands defensively.

“I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary you know. You’re the one who gets flustered. It’s a wonder you can keep any secrets.” He pouts. “Maybe you should just tell Grayson.”

Bruce sighs. Joker’s right, but there are more important things to take care of. “I will. After the gala. We need to finish this though, come on.” He sneaks on board, scanning the ship. Oracle hasn’t said anything yet, but he knows it’s just a matter of time. She’s usually on top of this.

Once on the ship they split up, Joker taking on half the men on the ship with ease, if not discretion. But at least the distraction helps Bruce take out his half. He joins Joker at the door, the man wiping blood off his mouth, sticking his tongue out at the flavor.

“These guys aren’t pulling their punches. Kiss it better?” he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.

Bruce rolls his eyes, turning to open the door and enter the ship. This is going to be a thing now, isn’t it. He should’ve expected it. “Later, maybe.” Joker closes the door after him quietly, Bruce just making out the words he murmurs.

“I can live with that.”

*

“How’s it going, Grayson?”

It’s Jason. Dick makes sure no one is around before replying. “It’s all going good. How’s it looking on your end?”

“It’s quiet. If this is where they plan on blowing up the wealthy then they aren’t very prepared. I assume that’s Batman’s doing.”

“Yeah. Hey, I gotta go, I’m on Penguin’s ship.” He hears footsteps coming towards him and hides behind a container, knocking them out the moment they step close enough.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell us if you need help.”

“Sure thing.” Dick shivers as he opens the door, the cold rushing out. Has Cobblepot never heard of heating? Just because your persona is Antarctic doesn’t mean you have to live at negative temperatures. Gotham isn’t even that cold yet either, why is there ice on this ship? Taking the cosplay way too far, Penguin.

The ship itself is huge, more than enough for one man. And henchmen. Dick barrels his way through at least ten just on the first deck, going down through a dark hall. Penguin is most likely in the center of the ship, if at all.

He sneaks through the ballroom, used now as more of a storage area, crates piled haphazardly on the once polished floor. He imagines the rest of the ship looks the same way. The ship creaks as it bobs on the water, Dick wondering just how old it is. Oswald Cobblepot isn’t known for buying things second hand, but it’s worn down. Not suited for a life of crime.

Bruce joins up with him further down, Joker still with him. Since Tim had mentioned the clown acting different Dick’s been studying him. He thinks Tim may have been right. Joker just leans against the wall like it pains him to stand upright, waiting for the next step. His eyes still have a dangerous flicker to them, but Dick isn’t so sure it’s aimed at him anymore.

“Have you found anything?” Bruce asks him. Dick shakes his head.

“No. He’s probably in the lowest part of the ship. It’s been a breeze so far, which worries me.”

“I guess we’ll find out.” Bruce opens the door to the left of the trio, a door that Dick guesses is the boiler. He steps through, not waiting to see if the others follow.

It’s all grey. Cold metal everywhere, not a soul to be seen. Dick tries a different door and finds it locked, going instead through the grate on top. Bruce and Joker come after, and the three find themselves in a small room, another door at the end labeled Office.

“He’s in there?” Joker whispers. “Seems a little drab.”

Bruce does a quick scan. “He’s in there all right. The only thing is I know he wouldn’t just be here alone.” He looks somber, Dick not liking the expression but used to it by now.

“Should we just open the door?”

“You find a back way,” Bruce says. “I’ll go through the door...as a distraction if need be.”

“Shouldn’t be too hard if it’s just Penguin. I’ll wait out here,” Joker says. He slides down the wall, sitting cross legged on the scuffed up carpet. He closes his eyes in something that almost looks like meditation. Dick stares, the man before him more of a puzzle than ever, but he shakes it off. A look at Bruce proves it’s nothing the older man hasn’t seen before.

Dick sighs. “I guess I’ll go now, should be a grate or something right? I’ll tell you when I’m ready.” He exits the tiny outer room, back in the boiler. As it happens, there is an air conditioning system that spans out to the whole ship. And it’s just big enough for Dick to crawl through, frowning at all the dust and trying not to cough.

Penguin’s voice can be heard from somewhere underneath him, and he finds an opening in the corner of the room, where he can see the stout villain on the phone.

“They’ll never know what hit ‘em. This plan is foolproof... Yeah, I got the stuff, that blasted bat took a lot, but we should still have enough...no, it’s not here. You think I’d trust in these idiots enough to keep it safe. Don’t worry, I have it somewhere they won’t find till it’s too late.” Dick listens intently, a spike of worry travelling through him.

If the rest of the supplies he has aren’t here then we’re just wasting time!

He comms Bruce, murmuring “Ready.”

Bruce slams into the door to open it, Penguin jumping up in outrage. This was what Dick always enjoyed, Bruce making an entrance to unsettle the bad guys. Make a scene and people are either so scared or distracted that they won’t know what hit them. He opens the grate quietly and drops down behind Cobblepot.

The villain is obviously angry, but he’s smirking through his cigar all the same. “You think you’re so smart coming here?”

“Where are you keeping your cargo?” Bruce demands, closing in on Penguin’s desk.

“What cargo?” He puffs smoke into Bruce’s face, but his nose barely wrinkles in disgust. He grabs Oswald by the collar. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you where it is. After this!” He whacks Bruce in the head with the butt of his umbrella, having a heavy swing for such a portly man. Bruce drops Oswald, Dick wrapping his arm around his neck so he can’t move. The man squawks in indignation and surprise.

“Where is it?” Bruce says, glaring.

“It’s too late, you’ll never find it!” Dick tightens his grip on Oswald. “I won’t tell you, you can threaten me all you like! You think I’d just give it up...after all this...? Do you actually think...I wasn’t using everyone as distractions?” His breath comes in short gasps. Bruce nods at Dick, who drops him.

“You’re done here, Oswald.” He ties the man up, Penguin barking curses at him.

“You won’t make it, you’re too late!” Bruce growls, slamming him into the wall. Penguin growls, shaking his head in pain. Dick takes him from Bruce, glancing up at him.

“They’re not at the observatory, Robin and Red Hood would’ve found it by now.”

“I know.” Bruce snarls, punching at the wall. Dick starts, not used to this side of Bruce.

“You know we’ll figure it out, we always do.”

Bruce shakes his head. “I knew something was wrong, but I kept trying to push the feeling away. Bane had a plan, his chemicals, but it fell through. Then with Crane and his toxin, but we took care of it. Maybe... they haven’t been working together at all. Maybe we’ve been on a wild goose chase, and for what?” Dick scrutinises the man.

“Maybe this time you shouldn’t trust your gut. If you think you’re gonna fail what’s the point in trying?” Bruce glances at him. “This isn’t about Joker is it?”

Bruce shakes his head almost vehemently. “No. This is entirely different. I’m just...”

Dick’s seen Bruce go through this before. Though he can be a drama queen at times, he does also get weighed down by the job at times, loathe as he is to admit it. He places a hand on Bruce. “You’re tired. I get it, you can’t always put up a front. Trust me, I’ll be taking a break after this, and so should you. But Batman is bigger than this. And you’re going to have to put aside any uncertainties.”

Bruce stays silent for a long time before he nods. “You’re right. We can do this. We have time. But we won’t get anything done standing around.” He looks at the door, expression resolute.

Dick’s comm goes off before either can move. ��Dick?”

“What’s up, Babs?”

“There’s a lot of activity over by the Asylum, might want to take care of that. Tell Bruce.”

“Yeah.” Bruce looks at him questioningly.

“Something’s come up at the asylum. Can anything else go wrong?” He sighs.

Bruce scowls, hand on the doorknob. “We’d better get over there then.” He opens the door.

Dick carries Penguin, who drifts in and out of a daze as they exit the room. Joker’s standing when they get to him.

“Nothing?”

“Just him,” Dick says, gesturing at Penguin. The clown grins, coming over and bending down to look at Penguin. The villain blearily looks at Joker, brow deeply furrowed and a scowl prominent.

“You finally caught him. One less thing to worry about, right?” He taps at Penguin’s head. “Shame he lost his hat though, I wanted a souvenir. What now?”

“I need to find the rest of the supplies, they spread everything around, most were just diversions. Now there’s something going on at Arkham,” Bruce explains, a tinge of anger in his voice.

Joker tilts his head to the side. “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

Bruce clenches his hands into fists. “What else? We’re going to stop this and figure out what’s really going on.”

After all, if he doesn’t there won’t be a Gotham to really save, just rubble and chaos. And maybe Gotham could take it, but Bruce doesn’t want to let it experience that much destruction while he’s still around. He’s got a job to do.

[berjhawn]

Bucky Barnes X Reader - Little Black Dress

This was a nonny’s request. Nonny i hope you like it. i loved writing it for you. (Not my GIF)

Request based on the prompt: “You’re Jealous, are’t you?”

Summary: You like Bucky but are afraid to let him know. So when a Charity Gala gives you the chance to wear a new dress you soon find out how easily jealous the brooding dream is. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You do a quick twirl reveling in the feeling this little black dress gave you. It had been a birthday gift from your brother’s girlfriend and you had to admit she had great taste. You pull the hem of the skirt down a little more as you try to make it cover a little more of your thighs. You look in the mirror again and your smile fades as the words, ‘You look like you’re asking for it’ pop into your head. You shake your head trying to force your step father’s words out of your head.

You’d been living on your own for years now but the trauma from the verbal abuse you’d been a victim of was still very much there. You hear a knock on your door and turn to see your best friend and co-worker, Sam, standing in the doorway a smile on his face. “So, what do you think?” You ask worry and panic filling your body.

“I think you look hot.” Sam replies a smile on his face making your own smile grow bigger.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” I ask as I sit down on the edge of my bed to put my heels on.

“Who cares what Barnes thinks?” Sam says irritation filling his voice. You chuckle as you remember that Sam doesn’t really like Bucky. Like he doesn’t hate him but he still hadn’t gotten over the fact Bucky ripped the steering wheel out of his car and wrecked it, on top of other things.

“I care, and you know it.” You reply slipping the last heel on and then stand up to do a last minute check to make sure everything looked good together.

“Yeah, yeah, I know all about your little crush.” He replies moving into the room to sit on the edge of your bed. “Of all the guys we know, why him?” Sam asks making you reach up and placing a hand on your chin you pretend to ponder the reasons.

“Well for one, Tony has pepper, plus I’m not one for the playboy type.”

“Plus, he’s too old for you.” Sam says and you shake your head.

“Scott’s cute, and funny, but again not my type. Steve is ridiculously handsome, but there’s something about him that shouts big brother, so he’s out of the question; and you, I’ve know you since grade school, you’re like a brother.”

“Yeah, I’m not into you either.” He replies making you chuckle. “What about Natasha?”

“I know I’m Bi, and she is hella hot; but I feel like she’s not over a previous lover.”

“I got that impression too.”

“Thor has Jane; and Banner has Betty; plus, he likes to dad me and that’d be really weird.”

“So why Barnes though?” Sam asks making you smile softly to yourself.

“Because he looks at me.” Sam cocks an eyebrow clearly not getting what you were trying to say and you chuckle. “That meaning, he notices everything about me. When I feel happy, when I feel… well you know. He’s always there helping me through it all. We help each other. He makes me feel so happy. Him being sexy as hell is just a bonus.” You add the last part just to annoy Sam as he fake gags. “Hey you asked. It’s your own fault.”

“I know, and I instantly regret it.” He replies standing up to walk to the doorway. “So, you gonna tell him how you feel?”

“Not sure yet.” You reply suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I want to; but then again, I wouldn’t be able to handle the rejection.”

“I know, but if he has any feelings for you at all, that dress will make him let you know.” Sam replies as you follow him to the kitchen where his suit jacket was hanging off the back of a chair. Tonight, was an important gala to which all he members of the Avengers, plus some of the faculty, that included you, were invited. Since you were too scared to ask Bucky to escort you, Sam had offered to be your date instead. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, let’s do this.”

~~~~~~~

“Okay I was expecting paparazzi, but nothing like this.” You say as the limo Tony had sent to get you and Sam pulled up outside the gala. The place was crowded as all get out. You couldn’t look in any direction and not see a flashing camera. You feel Sam take your hand and you let out a nervous sigh. “Are we even gonna be able to make it to the door?”

“Here’s to hoping.” He says as the limo comes to a stop and our door opens. Sam’s the first to climb out. He gives a bright smile and a little wave before he turns back to reach into the limo to take your hand. You gladly take it and let him help you out of the limo. The flashes instantly start to hurt your eyes making you offer a quick but forced smile and then quickly walk down the carpet and into the gala.

Once inside you let out a sigh of relief until you realize you had left Sam outside to fend for himself. “Oops.” You say as you glance behind you to see him stuck talking to some reporter. He glances up the carpet and as his eyes meet yours he glares. Shrugging your shoulders, you offer him an apologetic smile to which he just shakes his head. He’d be there for a while. You glance around looking for the rest of the avengers and spot a few of them on the other side of the room. Gripping tightly to your clutch you start to walk through the crowd to them.

When you make it halfway Steve spots you and waves you over. You offer him soft smile as you make your way to him. When you reach him, you notice that he was standing with Natasha, Tony, Pepper, and Bucky. “Where’s your date?” Tony asks as he hands you a glass of champagne.

“I left him with the paparazzi.” You say making them all chuckle. “He’s gonna be so pissed at me when he finally gets inside.” Everyone nods and you glance over to see Bucky staring at you and your cheeks flush pink.

“I don’t blame you for ditching him,” Pepper says pulling your attention from Bucky. “You never really get used to the reporters, that is unless you’re Tony.” He nods slowly agreeing with her.

“Why hasn’t anyone complimented (Name) on her outfit yet?” Natasha asks as she walks over and hugs you in greeting.

“I was just about too,” Steve says over her shoulder offering you a soft smile. Natasha pulls away only to be replaced by Steve who hugs you softly. “You look beautiful (Name).”

“Thank you, Steve,” You reply as you hug him back. When you pull away you glance over at Bucky, whose eyes never leave you, looks deep in thought and tilt your head. You are about to ask him what’s wrong when Scott walks up beside me and says, “Hey (Name), you look pretty tonight; any special occasion?”

“Well we are at a party.” You reply a smile covering your lips.

“Is that what this is?” He asks then fakes a moment of understanding as he adds, “Ahh that’s why the doorman asked me my name, it all makes sense now.” You let out an involuntary giggle causing him to look rather pleased with himself.

“Anyone want a drink? God knows I could use one.” Bucky asks as he starts to move toward the bar making you quickly finish your champagne and say, “I’d love one.” He holds his hand out to you and without a second thought you grab it and let him lead you to the bar. Once arriving you let him order a drink for you before asking, “Are you having fun?”

“Not as much as you are.” He snipes making your smile disappear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask hurt filling your voice.

“Nothing, forget it. It’s just me being an asshole.”

“But why are you being an asshole?” His eyes find yours and you add, “Your words not mine.”

“I don’t know,” He answers honestly as the bartender places a whiskey double in front of him and a jack and coke in front of you. He quickly downs his glass and orders another one. Before he has a chance to add more you feel someone lean against you and wrap their arm around your shoulders. You look up to see Sam standing there and you blanche.

“So, about leaving me to the wolves…” He starts and you offer a smile of sympathy.

“Sorry about that.” You reply before turning back to Bucky only to see him clench his jaw and look away. “Sam, Steve and everyone are over there. Do you mind leaving me here with Bucky?”

“I can take a hint.” Sam replies before glancing at Bucky. “You need anything I’ll be over there.”

“Thank you.” You reply. As he leaves you turn back to Bucky and are about to say something when some stranger walks up and taps you on the arm. You groan inwardly as you turn to him. “Can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink?” He asks as I try not to sound annoyed.

“Thank you for your offer but I already have one.”

“Then I’ll buy you the next one?”

“No thank you.”

“Then how about-”

“She said no,” You hear Bucky interject and slowly turn to see anger and rage in his eyes. The man takes one look at Bucky and dismisses himself. When it’s just the two of you, you move closer to him and say, “I could have handled him on my own.”

“I know,” He answers his eyes focused on his drink. You are about to ask him what he meant earlier when yet another stranger walks up and taps you on the arm making him reach his limit as he says, “Oh for the love of god!” He grabs your hand and instantly drags you away from the bar and the party. He leads you down a hall until he finds a quiet spot before he lets go of your hand.

“Okay, what was that about?” You ask his back as he faces away from you.

“I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like what?” You ask furrowing your brow.

“I don’t like them constantly hitting on you.” He answers and your eyes widen slightly.

“Bucky, you can’t…” You pause momentarily as he turns to face you. “You’re jealous aren’t you?”

“I don’t wanna be.” He says quickly making an invisible knife plunge itself into your chest. He notices your expression and instantly adds, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it.”

“I don’t know. Just not like that.”

“Makes a lot of sense Barnes.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it’s just that you came here in that dress and now all I can think about is-” He cuts himself off as his face turns bright red from embarrassment.

“What?” You ask as you slowly close the distance between the two of you. You take a deep breath as you realize it was do or die time. “Do you like me Bucky?”

“Do you like me?”

“I asked you first.”

“(Name),”

“Bucky,”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what?”

“All I asked was if you like me? If you do then you better tell me, or I’ve spent the last few months harboring an unrequited love for-” Your words are cut off as he reaches out and pulling you into his arms leans down letting his lips crash down onto yours. A wave of passion rushes through your veins making you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. After a few minutes he pulls away and says, “Does this answer your question?”

“It does, but I’d still like to hear it from your lips.”

“I don’t like you (Name),” He says and your smile fades. “I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He adds and you let out a heavy sigh making him chuckle.

“You’re right,”

“About?”

“You are an asshole.”

“Yeah, but you love this asshole.” He adds a smile filling his face.

“God help me I do.” You reply as you gently take his hand.

“Okay, let’s get outta here.” He says as he starts to walk away.

“Don’t you want to go back to the party?”

“No,”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel like killing anyone today.” He pauses for a moment and turning back to you says, “You played dirty wearing that dress.”

“Oh really, I like it.”

“From now on, only wear it for me.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

[thebibliophagist]

⭐ Goodreads ⭐ Amazon ⭐

Sparks fly when hockey hotshot Lucas Fournier and museum curator Stephanie Frazier meet at a fancy gala.  A night of unbridled passion turns into something more when the condom breaks and suddenly, Steph and Luc share a connection for the rest of their lives.  The only problem -- aside from the obvious -- is that Steph doesn’t do commitment.  Can Luc push through her walls and get her to accept the love he wants to give her?

I’ve picked up some Sawyer Bennett books over the years, but they’re just gathering virtual dust on my Kindle shelf.  I know that Sawyer Bennett is a pretty big author in the romance genre, so I was excited to be approved for this ARC on Netgalley.  Unfortunately, aside from the rather heated beginning, this book fell flat for me.

First of all, at least half of the blame lies on me.  I really, really dislike the “surprise baby” trope, and somehow missed that in the blurb.  And this book is really, really focused on the baby aspect.  It’s not that I dislike kids (I love babies) or that kids in my romance novels bother me (they don’t).  I think it’s more that I read romance to escape from my daily life, and the reminder that something as simple as a condom breaking could change my life forever just does not relax me one bit.

Honestly, this book stressed me out.

Now, Luc seemed like a great guy.  I appreciated how open, honest, and straightforward he was.  Stephanie, on the other hand, totally rubbed me the wrong way.  I get that she had a bad childhood, but her whole standoffish vibe and refusal to let Luc in grated on my nerves.

Throughout the book, Luc constantly tries to break down Steph’s walls, and she will not let him in.  When Luc confronts her, there’s this whole attitude of “you can’t upset a pregnant woman” that really bothered me -- let me tell you, I am of a certain age where literally everybody I know is having children.  I have had five coworkers give birth to seven children over the last two years.  Relatives and friends have also had babies.  You can upset a pregnant woman.  I mean, obviously, don’t try to stress her out, but absolutely call her out if she’s acting like an idiot!  And Stephanie acted like an idiot throughout a good 75% of this book.

There’s this one conversation which basically goes like this:

Luc: Could you please open up a bit?  I feel like I hardly know you. Steph: Um, excuse you, I had a bad childhood and I am literally pregnant right now? Luc: Yeah, but maybe you could like... talk to me? Steph: HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF NOT TALKING TO YOU WHEN I HAVE ACTUALLY SHARED VERY MINIMAL FACTS ABOUT MY LIFE! Luc: But... like... I want to know more. Steph: This is why I don’t date. I’d rather be single.  You are so mean. Luc: Okay.  I am legitimately sorry and I can’t believe I actually asked you a question while you’re pregnant with my child.  Carry on.

Yes, there are also scenes where Luc acts like a total jerk, but it’s not completely unwarranted.  There’s always something leading up to it.  His actions never come out of the blue and are, while possibly poorly worded, legitimate responses to Steph’s actions. All Steph does is sit around and complain about how nobody could ever love her when she has a man she even admits is perfect sitting down next to her, trying to love her despite her reluctance.

Anyway.  Can we move on to the plot?  Or, rather, the lack of plot?  Because this book is mostly just gratuitous sex tied together with a very flimsy plot of a) a surprise baby, b) Steph’s familial issues, and c) Steph’s job prospects.  All in all, not a lot of plot for a book that’s ~300 pages.  And, the thing is, the sex scenes aren’t that great.  Sure, the first one is pretty hot, but then they start getting repetitive and I found myself skimming them.

Serious question: Do actual adults in actual relationships really spend this much time having sex?  I mean, I get that it happens when you’re in your first real “adult” relationship, no longer living with your parents, trying to assert your independence or whatever.  But do actual adults really have sex marathons that last for four days? If so, how is that even pleasant? How does your body handle that? Do you really have nothing better to do?

The majority of the book revolves around the fact that Steph is pregnant, and actual pregnant women comment on the fact that they’re pregnant less than Steph does.  Actual women that I know with hyperemesis gravidarum, who are hospitalized for their condition, talk about throwing up less than Steph does.  (I hope that super graphic vomit scene is cut out of the final version of the book because it was absolutely disgusting and does not belong in a romance novel.)

There were a few things within the story itself that rubbed me the wrong way.  I’m just going to break this part up into bullet points:

The former curator’s “scandal.”  I’m not going to delve into any spoilers about what happened, but suffice it to say that I don’t really and truly understand what the scandal was.  As long as they’re not hurting anybody, what people do in the privacy of their own home or outside of office hours should have no bearing on their position at work.

The old-fashioned OB-GYN. I work in a medical office, so I’m really sensitive to the portrayal of doctors in fiction.  Steph’s OB is completely unprofessional, like to the level where I’m not sure how he’s still practicing.  He makes snide comments about “I didn’t realize you were married” (I didn’t realize that babies couldn’t be conceived without a ring on the finger) and “Stephanie is probably going to want you to leave the room now” (maybe let her make her own decisions).

The stripper. Honestly, she came out of left field and gave off these clear “I’m only here as a plot device” vibes -- obviously, since we never saw or heard from her again.

Simone and Van. The problem I had with these two is that I cared about them more than Steph and Luc.  I saw their relationship coming from a mile away and, at Simone’s first appearance, made a note about how I was sure that she was just there to set up the next romance in the series, and, lo and behold...

The name dropping. Lucas is #8 in a series, and though it supposedly functions as a standalone, I felt like I was missing quite a bit by not already knowing these characters. There are comments throughout about how X and Y got married or are expecting and there was a clear implication that this should mean something to me, but it just didn’t.

One thing I do really have to commend the publisher on is finding a cover model that actually looks like the description from the book. The last two books I read with faces on the cover looked nothing like the description of the hero, so this was a welcome change.

I guess, all in all, I was disappointed with Lucas.  I wanted to like it a lot more than I did, but it’s not necessarily a bad book if you’re into this kind of story. I can’t see myself going back to read the previous seven books in the series, but I’m still planning to read the Sawyer Bennett books that I already own.

Final rating: ★★☆☆☆

I received a free ARC of Lucas from the publisher (via Netgalley) in exchange for my honest opinion.