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#NINETEEN!!!!!
bacchanyalia · 2 months
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there will Never be a feeling as gut-punching as finding an artist leagues better than you and seeing in their bio that they're fucking 19 years old
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snowoiive · 2 years
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this is cruel n unusual punishment
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voidoffline · 3 months
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!This is a drawing! Not a screenshot!
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This is nineteen hours of work. (Not the build I based this off of- it only took me like a few minutes to build it XD)
(This is the next build of mine that I will draw)
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redsray · 1 month
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I love those fics where the JL learns about Jason (or the entire batfam, wtv) and realise that the Red Hood, who ran Batman in circles for a good while and keeps him on his toes, took over the entire crime-ridden drug empire of Gotham in just a few months, ran (or is still running) the Iceberg lounge and is just objectively terrifying: is also a nineteen-year-old with this baby face. THIS is who multiple drug lords answered to and who protects Crime Alley.
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hanasnx · 5 months
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MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | age gap, reader is nineteen | mild exhibitionism | size difference | choking | objectification (f receiving)
BRUCE WAYNE was in the hot seat. Well, more appropriately, Batman was in the hot seat. Which meant it was time for the billionaire playboy to make a public appearance so controversial, any press worth their tacks would cover his televised blunder rather than some depressing masked vigilante’s dealings. People prefer gossip over politics, and Bruce knows how to work an angle.
You’re a fresh adult, but the people already know you. A perfect Gotham sweetheart: a little darling on the front cover of lingerie magazines, starring as a bombshell in motion pictures, named the honor of the Ice Princess last month. You wore your little feathery outfit, next to nothing in the freezing cold, and turned on the city's giant Christmas tree lights just as the Ice Princess does every year. Known for your youth and beauty, Bruce knew you were the perfect candidate to take all the attention away from where it shouldn't be. Tabloids couldn't decide whether to praise the seasoned billionaire for landing a nineteen-year-old catch, or condemn him for having a mid-life crisis.
"Bruce Wayne seen with Gotham's Ice Princess." was everywhere anyone looked. It seemed the city had taken quite a protective role over you, which is exactly what Bruce needed.
Now that he's got you, he flaunts you. He lets you lug him around town, any local events that could be televised are his priorities. There, he makes a big show of touching you in ways only a lover is allowed to. Things that make you pat his huge bicep scoldingly. "Brucie!" you chide with a gasp, "You're so shameless." you say, but you fucking love it. How he openly mouths at your neck, lapping and sucking on your pulse point enough for lewd pretty sounds to slew from your parted lips. Little whimpers that any onlookers eat up.
He'll grope you unabashedly, big hand grabbing at your ass or giving it a swat. He needs those cameras to see how gross he is, how crazy he is about his nineteen-year-old situationship. If you get kissed, it's fucking sloppy. Mostly tongue, tongue outside the mouth as much as he can appropriately get away with. His "dirty sense of humor" will bleed into the public scene as well, hugging you from behind only to jokingly engulf your neck with his hand to fake a choke.
Every single one of these things he does for attention, leaves you hot and bothered. Frustrated from his treatment of you that's so warm when there are prying eyes, but so cold when you're finally alone together. You want Bruce Wayne to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, but when doors are closed suddenly it's: "Something's come up." or "The sushi hit me wrong." Or the worst one of all: the polite, civilized, but uninterested act. You're all over him, begging for him to finally fuck you after stringing you along and teasing you so ardently all day, and he treats you as if you are an acquainted business associate who has overstayed her welcome. You don't get it. An hour ago he was pulling your neckline towards him for a peek down your dress, and now he's showing you the door with a smile on his face.
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riot-ghost · 6 months
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Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.
Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.
"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.
"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.
"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"
"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.
"Getting around the town well enough?"
"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.
"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"
"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.
"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.
"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."
Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.
"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."
"Why are you eating it cold?"
"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"
"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."
"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.
"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.
"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."
"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.
"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.
Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.
"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.
"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.
Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.
"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."
"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"
Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.
Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."
Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"
"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."
"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"
"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?
"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.
"You brought him pasta."
"He never learned to cook."
"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.
Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."
Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"
"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.
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dcxdpdabbles · 19 days
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First of all your writing is amazing 🤩🤩!!!
You give so much life to your writings.
So I've been seeing a lot of snippets that have Danny claiming Dani as his child and also somehow carrying the cores to her clone siblings. And I was wondering how you would depict that. Maybe with a Dan maybe not. He could be living with Vlad or maybe he had to flee Amity and gets found on the streets by one of the bats if he's in Gotham or Alfred is the one who brings home the stray. Maybe he's Bruce's kid maybe not. He doesn't even need to be in Gotham. Maybe it lines up with Lian and he somehow saves her (I forget what happens to her).
Danny had only been in the new dimension for about thirty minutes when a terrorist attacked. He had originally traveled there with them since Clockwork promised if he relocated in a timeline so far away from Dan. He would allow Dani- de-age to five though her mental state stayed the same- and the cluster of her clone siblings' cores to live.
Clockwork claimed that Dani and the clones were destined to be corrupted, causing more devastation and death than Dan. They would expand their mercenaries' attack across dimensions and timelines, wiping out millions and millions, and so the clock ghost had enlisted Danny to destroy them.
He had gone under the condition that they would leave Dani alone, but when Danny saw the clones' cores, something in him had not been able to kill them off. Seven of them rested in a nest-like ectoplasm cave, and even though they were locked within their cores, Danny could hear their little heartbeats.
Could sense the being within, resting like a child in a mother's stomach.
It sounded a lot like an ultrasound, but he quickly found out only he could hear them, for Tucker, Sam, Jazz, and Dani had only seen glowing egg-shaped targets. He had thrown himself over them, begging them to not harm the children.
Danny didn't know where the connection came from, but there was no denying that there was one. He had bonded with the cores, and he wanted nothing more than to care for and nurture the children that were forming within.
Clockwork's deal hung heavily over his head, but after speaking to his friends and family, he decided to move far away for the children. He would be a single father to Dani and her seven siblings, worlds away from everything he knew and loved.
It is Difficult, but other parents have left their home countries to try and give their kids a better future before. He could do it, too.
Danny would even share his natural ectoplasm with the cores to help them grow like a ghost incubator. Yes, it would weaken him, but no more than any other person who was pregnant, and he would not have to deal with mood swings or food cravings!
He bid his family fair well, taking with him funds from Sam and Vlad, and had hopped over. Dani held his hand, and his core children were safely tucked into his backpack in warm towels. They had five suitcases with them, taking their essentials - such as government documents Clockwork swore would be what that world used, clothes, food, and the few techs they could carry- and had stepped through the spinning portal.
He had stopped between the two worlds, turning back only once to wave goodbye and ignore the tears rolling down his face.
His mother had called out, "Don't look back, sweetie. If you do, you'll never be able to see your children in front of you!"
Danny had turned and not looked back again. He and Dani were dropped in what looked like a large city. The first thing he wanted to do for them was find shelter, so he wiped away his tears, helped a sobbing Dani clean her face, and then marched them away, hoping to find an apparent complex with a vacant room that would be open.
They had just been passing by a sweet of houses when the bombs went off. Dani screamed, throwing herself against Dani's leg as houses started to crumble around them.
For one heart-stopping moment, he imagined the cores shattered like eggs, shimmering against the red of Dano's squished body. Danny had dropped their bags, gathering Dani in his arms and flying to the closest shelter.
He invaded a house, pressing his daughter and her siblings against his chest as more and more bombs went around the city. With a cry, he threw the strongest shield he could muster around them, encasing his ectoplasm in ice, but still, the blasts rocked the house and tore apart the building. Trust Clockwork to throw them into a war zone!
"Danny!" Dani screamed as large bits of the ceiling fell onto the shield. It caused cracks on his shield, and the ghost boy gritted his teeth to strengthen them. He had just feed a lot of his power to the core not even twenty minutes ago. He's basically tapped out. "Danny, I think there is someone in the house!"
I don't care, Danny thinks ruthlessly. You and your siblings come first.
"Danny! I think it's a kid!"
Danny's tunnel vision of keeping his kids safe suddenly shatters as he registers the screaming. It's high pitch and frightened, someone young. It's coming from upstairs, just slightly above the rocking and booms of the city.
"Danny! I can't go ghost; you need to help them!"
But his kids-
"Danny, please!" Dani screams, looking up at him with her tiny five-year-old face and the burning protective core in her eyes.
He can't say no to that. With a flick of his wrists, Danny freezes the inside of the shield, encasing it a second time until only a small hole is left. He throws the backpack carrying his other children into his eldest's arms with a command: "Protect your brothers and sisters!"
He had to force himself and reach deep within to grab hold of what little Ectoplasim he had left, but twin rings of lights formed around him, shifting him from human to ghost. He could tell that the transformation wouldn't last. His limit is likely fifty seconds, but that's all the time he needs.
He flies through the hole, going intangible to the rumble and blaze, flying through the crumbling building until he spots a little girl humbled up and crying as the ground breaks underneath her. It feels as if everything slows down as she starts to fall, descending into the flames that burst around her- a bomb had been flung to the house, and it detonated upon impact- and Danny knew that if she hit the ground, she would die.
Danny knew what he had to do.
He would be cutting his transformation time, but it was a sacrifice well made. Phantom pushed everything he had into flying as fast as he could, reaching her just before her feet hit the flames. He curled his arms around her, pressing her to his chest and encasing her small body as best he could with his ice like a hastily made baby carrier. Then, he flung himself backward towards the first floor, where his children were waiting.
His vision started going blurry, and his flying was uneven. Intangibility failed him as rocks and fire slammed into his back. The little girl he rescued was protected from most hits, but he still curved around her, ensuring that if anything went to her, it would need to go through Danny.
They slammed into the shield, his ice retreating long enough for them to phase before the entire building collapsed. Danny hit the ground hard on his side, absorbing most of the impact as best he could for the girl, who was covered in inguires.
"Danny!"
Dani's horrified scream was the last thing he heard when the world faded to black.
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No. No. No. No. no
Roy ran as fast as he could through the destroyed city, racing towards where his safe house and his daughter once stood. When the reports of Prometheus first arrived, he had known that Star City was among the target places, but when they showed him the map of the areas, his heart fell through his body.
He hadn't stayed for the briefing, had ignored the outraged cries of the heroes, and he knows he just hurt his chances of being in Justice League, but none of that mattered.
Lian needed him!
He heard Dick and Jason not far behind him, likely noticing the same thing on the map, but he could barely think as he leaped over destroyed buildings and rescue crews. He almost had no idea where he was; nothing looked the same, and dust and devastation were everywhere.
Only when he spotted a lump of crumbling wood and rocks he realize this was supposed to be his street. The broken building before him was his house, and it had been wiped from the face of the earth.
"Lian!" The scream that was ripped from him was inhuman, grief-stricken even as he crumbled to his knees, trying to push the wood out of the way to reach his daughter. "Lian! Daddy's coming. Danny's here! Hold on!"
He threw everything out of his way, desperately clawing at the heavier bits, but even as he spoke, his sight was blurry from his tears. Dick and Jason quickly helped him, letting pieces and moving stones with steady but sadness clouded their faces.
He's seen those particular expressions on the Bats before. It was during their search and recovery missions.
They were looking for a corpse.
No. no. no. no. no Please not my little girl
"What is that?!" Jason called out, pointing to a large caved-in roof with a faint green glow. Roy looked up, half numb from everything, to watch Dick and Jason push the roofing off with a grunt of effort.
A dome of glowing ice appeared, and he could make out the three figures inside it. The ice cracked, shattering as Roy stumbled towards it, eyes unfocused.
Then his gaze sharpened when his daughter's tear-covered face turned to him. She held out her hands with a sob, " Daddy!"
"Lian!"
He raced towards her, stumbling over a few steps, but he had his daughter in his arms, warm and safe and, most importantly, alive.
"Daddy, the alien saved me!" Lian said, "He's hurt!"
Roy can bring himself to leave his head from his daughter's hair, but he hears Dick take control, racing over to the alien that was crumbling on the ground.
"Stay away!" a young voice said- which- was the alien a child? He peaked one of his eyes up, only glazing at the sight of a body and a little girl hunched over them in a defensive posture.
"Hey, we mean you no harm. We just want to check on your friend there," Dick tells it.
"He isn't my friend, He' s my dad!"
"That's great. Does he need medical attention?" Jason said, stepping closer only to back away as the girl bared her sharp teeth. "We just want to help."
"You promise you won't hurt him?"
"We promised. He saved someone really important to us."
"You won't hurt my siblings either?"
"If we find them, we won't-
"They're right here with Dad. They just aren't born yet." The girl cuts him off, patting her father's back and the little bag.
Shit. The alien was pregnant? And he risked not only his own health but his unborn children for Lian? Roy doesn't care which side this alien is on, how they got to Earth, or what they planned to do.
He would protect them with their lives.
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Community Notes to the rescue.
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“Every record has been destroyed or falsified, every book rewritten, every picture has been repainted, every statue and street building has been renamed, every date has been altered. And the process is continuing day by day and minute by minute. History has stopped. Nothing exists except an endless present in which the Party is always right.” ― George Orwell, 1984
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Kaladin Stormblessed has the most I'm Too Old For This Shit energy of any 20 year old that has ever existed. He's not even old enough to rent a car and he's already years into his midlife crisis.
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canisalbus · 1 month
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What if Vachete holded hands as LPS
.
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itsdelicate · 6 months
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just saw a comment on tiktok say they were 4 when 1989 came out and it’s their fav album cause it reminds them of their mum driving them to kindergarten and jamming out….i need to lie down
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kexing · 3 months
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From now on, always stay close to me. You have to stay by my side. Because you are only mine.
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derangedrhythms · 7 months
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I enjoy talking to you. Your mind appeals to me.
George Orwell, from 'Nineteen Eighty-Four'
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ao3-crack · 1 year
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(x)
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laatmaar · 5 months
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"'Five years ago it was noncitizen. In the future, who knows? Perhaps not-citizen-enough?' She waved a hand, a gesture of surrender. 'It won't matter. Such boundaries are too easy to create.'"
A very loose rendition of lieutenant Awn's conversation with the head priest in Ors.
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hanasnx · 4 months
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brucie and his 19 year old girlfriend who he flaunts around Gotham like it’s no big deal. he takes her everywhere and anywhere there will be press. everyone is so shocked and they don’t even know what to say. especially the kids. dick and jason are (high key) jealous of it… -🍓
PART ONE ✩ PART TWO MINORS DNI 18+
BRUCE WAYNE has been keeping you around to garner attention around himself and off of his dealings as the Batman. You were the perfect candidate given your social influence, your popularity, and it helped you were easy on the eyes. If Bruce Wayne was the center of controversy for dating someone half his age, Batman could keep a lookout on Penguin’s latest caches without distractions like the Cobblepots releasing a statement that Batman is wrongfully investigating a man based on appearance. Prejudice doesn’t make the news, but an age gap does.
You practically float off the floor when Bruce is around, whether it be an arm around your waist; leading you or twirling you like a dance with music he hums; sweeping you off your feet, easily up over his head. It becomes clear why he’s so dangerous, he’s such a charmer. Somehow he has romance dialed in, and you fell for someone so put-together. You love going everywhere with him, and when a fan asks for a picture, he’s the first to hug you from behind and curl his huge body around you, cheek-to-cheek with his chin over your shoulder. He’s so shamelessly touchy. It gets to a point where he likes when you scold him with a pat. Hitting his sturdy bicep when he tugs the neckline of your dress to him for a peek at your tits, and all he does is growl at you playfully, like you’re asking for it later.
To be honest, you are. Yet, Bruce won’t get it to you. He dangles it over your head in public, but alone he makes up some excuse and calls his butler to drive you home.
One time when you’ve been invited to the Manor, it was so you could get ready and drive to a gala with Bruce. Arriving together is a big statement, and you’re excited, but in a much realer sense there’s a tickle of dread in your stomach. Bruce told you to make yourself comfortable and wait for him, he’s terribly sorry that he has to attend to something first and if he’d had it his way a lady wouldn’t wait on a gentleman. You’ve already fantasized this might be it, he’s finally going to ask you. Sitting on this chaise in front of a fire you clench your legs together at the reminder. Perhaps he’s getting ready so he’ll finally sleep with you. Briefly, you imagine what the paparazzi would bark at you if you arrived to the gala with sex hair. It brings a smile to your face.
Just in case, you had outfitted yourself with a tasteful nightgown underneath your clothes, and you decide now is the time to enact it. Shimmying off your garments, you then arrange yourself seductively on the chaise. Bruce’ll be here any minute, and he always acts so insatiable in public. Maybe if you surprise him, he won’t be able to steel himself. Your fingers play with the hem, already short but your ride it up even more, and trace circles onto your bare hip. You’ve felt his hands on your hips when you wore a stringy little bikini for him on his yacht, and those callused hands had pulled you right down on his lap to stick his tongue in your mouth. You can still taste it, closing your eyes to revisualize it. He was so big underneath you—
“… and this is a one time thing, understand? My debt is paid.”
“Don’t worry, birdboy, I won’t tell your old man—“
Voices come into focus, alerting you as the door opens and not one but two people come in. Two people you do not recognize. Without thinking it through, you stand to conceal your seductive pose meant for someone else, and everything else slips your mind.
Two men. Boyish. Both with black hair that’s grown out, and one of them with a white stripe sprouting from the front of his hairline.
“Oh,” DICK GRAYSON says. He’s no stranger to walking in on something he shouldn’t see. “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”
“Nice outfit.” JASON TODD adds, and you can tell he’s making fun of you. Your cheeks grow red hot, and you scramble for something to cover yourself up. A thin throw blanket folded over the back of the chaise is hastily straightened out to cover yourself.
Wary he might cause you grief, Dick points to a bookshelf behind you. “We just have to… get something.” He waits for something, and you realize he wants you to reply. You nod, hoping to just end this as soon as possible.
The blanket covers most, but a lot of your thigh is exposed. You try to turn with them as you they pass you, but Jason cranes his neck to catch a glance of your ass. The undersides of it hang out of your tiny nightgown. An indignant crease in your brow forms, and you make an obvious move to yank the blanket over your ass, turning it away from him. Dick keeps going, Jason hangs behind. “What’re you doing here, missy? You look a little young.” Condescension. The last thing you need right now is a conversation.
“Yeah, are you looking for someone?” Dick asks over his shoulder, more polite than his companion as he searches the spines of books with a finger.
You hesitate to say anything, you don’t know these people. “I’m waiting on someone.” A tremble shivers through you, the back of you cold from being away from the fire, and your nerves didn’t help.
“You’re not a hooker, are you?” Jason’s blunt nature shines through in his question, not that he’s intrigued or judgmental, just curious.
Your first instinct is to be offended he’d say something like that to a lady, frowning at him with a scoff. “What? No! And—!” It dawns on you that you shouldn’t put down sex work, you’re overreacting. So you wiggle your shoulders and stick your nose in the air, prissing up your attitude. “It wouldn’t matter if I was.” you say, quieter this time.
“Sure, it does. I’ve got cash on me.” Jason replies, only to get that cute offended look back on your face.
“Jason, shut up. She doesn’t know you’re trying to get under her skin.” Dick plucks out the book, and flips through it. He joins you and Jason, and you take a wary step back. He doesn’t notice, snapping the book shut and handing it off to Jason. Those blue eyes are back on you again, and you swear you see him give you a quick once-over. “Whoever you’re waiting on is a lucky guy.” he says, and by his tone you’re unsure if it’s a genuine flirt. When he smiles, dimples define, and for a brief second you’re weak in the knees.
A third voice pipes up, deeper than them both. “She’s with me.” Bruce says, walking in as he adjusts his cuff links. “Jason, always a pleasure to find you sneaking around my house.”
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