one thing about me, if french onion soup is on the menu i’m gonna order it
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won’t even lie to yall. chapter 62 absolutely FUCKS. it is so BIG.
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He didn't mind the jabberjays so much --- they seemed rather interesting from a military standpoint --- but something about the mockingjays repelled him. He distrusted their spontaneous creation. Nature running amok. They should die out, and die out soon.
-- The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (chapter 26) by Suzanne Collins
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Can you write about domestic dickjay cuddling on a rainy day?
It's not that they weren't anticipating the rain, there was just fuck all they could do about it while they were working. Crime doesn't stop for inclement weather, after all. Which somehow works out fine for Jason, but Dick? Not so much.
Poor guy braved the elements and lost bad.
Jason snickers as he saunters closer, the cape of his Robin costume pulled over his head to spare him from the worst of the downpour. Though Jason hasn't said anything, Dick still tamps his foot down in a puddle, splashing at Jason because Jason's cheeky smile says it all.
Between one step and the next, Jason closes the distance between them with a playful splash of his own. Lighthearted retaliation followed up by an easy truce as Jason raises his arms, lifting his cape higher to offer shelter.
Cold as it is, Jason's smile is warm; both biting and soft in a way that has Dick's lips curling into something just as tender. It's enough to chase the chill out of Jason's bones and make a soft flush settle across his cheeks.
Dick pushes his hair back out of his face, stooping low to duck beneath Jason's cape as Jason stretches up onto his toes. Beads of water cling to Dick, chasing down his skin to trail across his jaw and beading at the ends of his hair and - oh. Jason didn't think things through this far.
Like this, they might be too close. Jason can do little more than stare at Dick, wide eyed and flustered. A warm blush burns hot across his freckled cheeks, a contrast of color to the dreary grays around them. It's not something Dick doesn't not notice. Jason watches how Dick's gaze drops, lingers; how his lips quirk into a ghost of a smile.
Jason drops down from his toes and Dick follows him with how Jason's cape catches over his head, drawing them unwittingly closer - knocking their foreheads softly together.
And Dick laughs, faint and breathless and warm over Jason's heated skin.
Poor guy braved the storm and lost, but the joke is ultimately on Jason because time and again he braves Dick and loses just as bad.
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DOES THIS ARTIST HAVE A TUMBLR
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