Are you still doing the wip ask game? If so, can i ask about number 5?
I love this one and I'm so embarrassed that it's still a wip oh no!!!! This should have been completed a long time ago to celebrate hitting 1,000 followers but uh... it sorta snowballed into way more than I thought it would and this cute little oneshot is now way more than that. Whoops.
It started as a @stealingyourbones prompt that I added on to, which you can read here! Then I posted a wee little wip wednesday sneak peek, and this snippet (is it still a snippet if it's over 1k words?) carries on from there :)
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Danny doesn’t join him for what is, unexpectedly, a pretty great meal.
“Holy shit, you guys,” he murmurs, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "You’re missing out.”
“Come on, Jay, it can’t be as good as the Big Bat Deluxe.” Dick whines in his ear. “You love those.”
“No, I love the Red Hot Hood Bites. That’s all I get at Bat Burger, and don’t let me hear you telling the others that I get anything else.”
“Please, Jason, don’t think we don’t have everyone’s BB order on file, who do you think you’re talking to?”
“Fuck off, Timbits. Go eat at Red Robin.”
“Hey, fuck you!”
Jason elects to tune out the ensuing list of threats in favour of finishing his burger. He’s heard them all before and he’s like 80% sure that Tim won’t actually hide his body in a Red Robin—if only because it wouldn’t take the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out who did it and he'd be so deep in the fucking shit that he may as well join Jason.
Aside from the food (seriously, that sauce! He’s going to need to rustle up a copycat or something, he can’t leave here without a recipe), the Nasty Burger is a pretty sad affair.
It’s a little run down, the vinyl covers on the seats peeling and suspiciously sticky, and incredibly quiet. The only other people around are the two teens behind the counter, bored and on their phones, and two kids, probably around Danny’s age, sitting in the corner quietly arguing amongst themselves. There’s an ungodly amount of food in front of them, but only the guy seems to be eating.
Jason sighs and looks at the rapidly cooling Supremely Nasty Meal meant for Danny. Taking a few of the fries won’t hurt, will it?
He peels the paper bag away from the greasy mess and digs in. Huh, they really skimped on his lot, there’s only like half a carton in here.
“So, you gonna bring us back something or are we going to have to starve?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
“What a shame,” Timbo starts, with a theatrical air, “for I am still trying to decide whether or not to tell you everything I’ve learnt about the Fentons. Perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement?”
“You finally made yourself useful and got through those firewalls?”
“Yeah, once I managed to get my hands on a native laptop. It’s weird, but whatever was keeping out my tech lets anything bought directly from Amity in. Having such localised security—to the point where even my stuff can’t penetrate?— is beyond strange. I don’t like it.”
Jason leans back, and reaches for Danny’s milkshake, finding it surprisingly light when he lifts it up. Seriously, what is with the half portions here? He turns round and glares at the spotty teen behind the counter, who doesn’t look up from his phone. Whatever. It's not like Danny’s going to drink it anyway.
Looks like the two kids in the corner have made up, if their stifled laughter is anything to go by. Most of their own food is gone now, too, so perhaps the real reason it’s called the Nasty Burger is because they stiff you on the food.
“This place is weird.” says Dick, in a rare case of being right.
“You don’t know the half of it…” Tim sighs but doesn’t offer up anything else.
Jason’s been trying his best to ignore it.
The weirdness, that is.
There’s an electrical charge in the air so strong it almost feels like he’s swimming through static. Each breath makes his steps bounce like he’s walking on the moon. If he turns too quickly, if he stands up too fast, his head spins like he's breathing too much oxygen.
No matter what Tim thinks he knows, it’s not the full weirdness of Amity Park, Jason's sure about that. Being here itches under his skin, and he resolves not to delve any deeper into it. Not with the way the green swims on the edges of his vision.
The sooner they figure out what’s happening here, the better.
“What’s your price?”
“Two Supremes and a six pack of Nasty Nuggies. Cake shake with two shots of espresso.”
Jason rolls his eyes as Dick splutters in concern.
“Shake and espresso? Tim, you have a problem.”
“It’s just a frappuccino. There’s no difference.”
“Then get a frappuccino.”
“I want a shake.”
“Then there's a difference! And the difference is that Alfred will kill us for enabling you!”
“As riveting as watching Timberly’s mental and physical wellbeing disappear before our very eyes is, what’s your info?”
“The same for me, please!” Dick butts in, yet again. “Except with a coke instead, because I’m normal.”
Both Tim and Jason snort.
“Yeah, not gonna touch that. Tim, info, come on.”
“Alright, alright. Hey, so, what’s your favourite thing about being adopted?”
“Tim, I swear to God, if you don’t get to the point right now, I’ll—”
“You’re right! It’s that none of us are actually related to you.”
“And yet somehow, I’m still stuck with you all. Point, Tim, get to it.”
He grabs the burger meant for Danny and begins to unwrap it. If he has to listen to Tim being all smug about whatever he’s found out, he’s doing it with a burger in hand.
“Did you know that Willis Todd’s Great-Great-Great-Great-Great Grandfather was a Nightingale?”
“What’s a Nightingale? Aside from the obvious.”
“A Nightingale is about two generations away from becoming a Fenton.”
“Oh, what the fuck? You cannot be serious!”
“Serious as a cake shake with two espressos in it.”
“No, my… Someone ate my other fucking burger!”
Danny’s burger has a huge, bite-sized chunk taken out of it. Literal teeth marks in the bun. A slice of tomato slops limply onto the table, painting his shirt with splatters of weak tomato juice, the red half moon taunting him. Sauce dribbles out mournfully.
The two kids in the corner are staring openly now, faces red with how hard they’re laughing.
Jason sinks into his chair with a groan.
This fucking town.
Is this how they treat outsiders? Take bites of their burgers while they laugh on—but then why only do it to his spare and not both meals? The teenagers behind the counter aren't even paying any attention, so why bother pulling a prank like this if you're not going to—
Danny.
Jason whips his head around as if he can catch the invisible little shit, but just like on the street, there's no sign of him.
Has he been here the whole time, invisibly eating the food Jason offered him? Except the packaging was still perfectly wrapped, the sticker still attached, how in the hell had he managed to eat the burger without damaging it? Did he get to it in the kitchen? Or does he—
“Wait, hold up. What the fuck did you just say?”
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