Master List
This list will include my ideas and the chapters for the fic I am writing right now
Bee movie au
How Did This Happen?!?!?
Short stories
ramos123 reblogged
Get to Know You Better Game
Thanks for the tag @hollie47 !
Answer the questions and tag people you want to get to know better.
Last Song I Listened To: Wuthering Heights by Kate Bush (technically I listened to the Pat Benatar version)
Currently Watching: Rebels (Star Wars), Drag Race season 15, Farmer Wants a Wife season 2 (US version)
Currently Obsessed With: reading Clint Barton fanfics, organizing my house, PT exercises and fixing my damn back
I tag @the-mad-dame @nokomiss @superbattrash @there-must-be-a-lock @summerfrwrks @skylarkblue @abyssal-ali and anyone else who wants to play, consider yourself tagged by me!
Just realised I never did this 🙈
Last Song I Listened To: Back to Me by The Rose; their album Dual is super comforting right now 🖤
Currently Watching: I just binged 2 kdramas and I'm likely to do another...probably Strong Girl NamSoon (I've heard it's bad but A) Min-min and Bong-bong cameo 😍 and B) villain is hot 😉)
Currently Obsessed With: getting plot ideas for fanfics and then ignoring writing in favour of watching kdramas
No pressure tags: @disaster-biraven @trying414 @lonestarfangirl2014
I'm going to try? But no guarantees because I have no consistency 🤣
Last Song I Listened To: I listened to snippets of different songs, but the last full song I listened to was Bad Idea - Reprise from Waitress the Musical
Currently Watching: I...have no clue because I'm behind in all of my shows. I don't watch TV a ton, and my bedroom TV isn't even set up since we moved 😂 I've been watching some things on ReelShort, though. Not sure which ones off the top of my head.
Currently Obsessed With: ...reading? Probably? That's what I spend most of my time doing. Reading fanfics. Though I really need to spend more time writing 😅😅😅
No pressure tags: @queenkaiju @hamsteriffic @writer-rider-dirty-thirties and anyone else who wants to join! (I'm really just lazy and don't feel like tagging more 🤣🤣🤣)
Hmm...
Last Song: I Dreamed a Dream - Les Misérables.
Currently (Re)watching: Doctor Who - Twelfth Doctor, specifically.
Current Obsession: Batman (nananananananana)
@kibastray, @mightbeawriter, @thewollfgang, anyone tagged @izanae yet?
Last song: Pokémon theme song
Currently watching: Pokémon (With kiddo)
Current obsession: maribat (always)
Last song: Panic by NSB
Currently watching: Nothing ig, preparing for my exams, but last watched The Flash.
Current Obsession: Uhh, ribbons?
Last song: Mess it up by Gracie Abrams
Currently watching: nothing at all, I use what free time I have to read fanfic lmao
Current obsession: sleep
Last song: teardrops on my guitar
Currently watching: nothing
Current obsession: procrastination
ramos123 reblogged
✨My name is Taylor and I was born in 1989 ✨
ramos123 reblogged
In manga style (2)
ramos123 reblogged
Incorrect Batfam Quotes
*Dick texting the other Batkids
Dick: Hey guys, guess who just got ✨injured✨
Steph: Obviously I hope you’re okay, but I want you to know that was the most in-character text you’ve ever sent.
ramos123 reblogged
Champagne Tango
The club was raging. Even for a weekend night, it was busy. They had exceeded capacity an hour ago, but people were still lined up down the street. Anyone who mattered in Gotham’s black underbelly, and even a good portion of the ‘legitimate’ influencers, were there, yet Jason’s eyes kept going back to the woman sitting at the bar, a woman who for all intents and purposes had no established influence in Gotham. And yet, he couldn’t force his attention away from her.
He had no idea who she was, but the perfectly tailored, silky, green dress that clung to her curves in all the right places revealing a hint of her curves without exposing too much, suggested she had money or connections or both. By all appearances, she should be a player, but there was nobody in Gotham who mattered, illegitimate or not, that he didn’t know, which meant either she was brand new to Gotham, or she was that rare specimen; a legitimate, hardworking, person who wasn’t working an angle.
He tried to focus on the club, he really did. The club needed it with all the activity going on and competing factions present. But his eyes kept shifting unbidden to her spot at the bar, like a beacon of light in the dark night. He would almost focus his attention back onto the rowdy crowd, after all she wasn’t the first woman oozing sensuality in his club, though she might be the most effective, and he had a job to do, but then she would turn his direction, and he would catch sight of her radiant smile and her eyes sparkling with humor and innocence. Every time she would laugh, truly laugh, not just giggle, but truly laugh from her heart, she would throw her head back, her dark hair sweeping back in a mesmerizing cascade of movement that he was powerless to turn away from.
For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why she would be in the Iceberg Lounge, in his place. Despite what the crystalline exterior indicated, the club was a beacon to the dark and bitter. The exact opposite of everything she seemed to personify. She could not have been more out of place. He couldn’t even blame it on her date… Partner? Acquaintance. Acquaintance sounded much better. He couldn’t even blame it on her acquaintance, because his energy seemed to match hers; bright and light but his was cloyingly sweet.
Much to his dismay, he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t keep their eyes off her. He watched as person after person came over to her to strike up a conversation, all lingering a bit longer and a bit closer than he was comfortable with. Quite a few of them he wasn’t comfortable with being in the same building as her let alone close enough to touch her.
Fortunately, he wasn’t alone in his dislike of the attention. The man with her did not look at all happy about that turn of events, glaring daggers at the interlopers and more than once, physically removing them from their presence. But he seemed to be dealing with his fair share of unwanted attention as himself, but he was having none of it, refusing to divert his attention from her, much like Jason.
It was entirely due to that attention that Jason caught the move that set his skin on edge. The man had handed her a drink with a smile and a mischievous glint in his otherwise boyish gaze. Jason had been working with and against low-lives long enough to know that look indicated nothing good was about to follow. Something was about to happen, something the woman wouldn’t particularly enjoy, if he didn’t monitor the situation.
Unfortunately, nobody in the club was willing to allow him to do so. He almost bit his manager’s head off when she mentioned yet another crisis that demanded Jason’s attention. It was like the entirety of Gotham was out to mess with him. He couldn’t catch a break and just fucking breathe… while he intently watched the gorgeous woman whose name he didn’t know.
But as soon as that crisis was averted, another inevitably popped up. Don’t get him wrong, he had no issue with low-lives taking each other out, just not in his club. Doing it in his club left a lot of paperwork for him and it meant even more dealing with police, a task he avoided as much as possible. The endless crises were a constant frustration, one that was putting him more and more on edge until his staff was afraid to report to him.
It was getting late in the night, not quite early hours of the morning when he was finally able to take a moment to return to his observation post, seemingly just in time. The man was intently watching the woman, the mischievous glint had turned diabolical. And the woman was noticeably less in control of her movements, sloppier in her laughs, wider in her smiles. Even without having watched her for most of the night, he would have known something was off.
“Jorge!” he greeted casually, but his voice held a tell-tale tightness the bartender instantly recognized.
Jorge finished making his drink and collecting the money before making his way quickly but nonchalantly to his boss’ side. “Hey, Mr. Todd. What’s going on?”
Rather than directly addressing him, Jason scanned the room as he spoke. “How many has she had?”
“Who?” He looked up and down the bar quickly before his eyes settled on the popular, dark-haired woman at the end of the bar. “Oh, her,” he chuckled. “Only two, boss.”
Jason narrowed his eyes at an insignificant spot on the far wall. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” Jorge answered confidently. “She was getting into an argument with her date there over it. He didn’t want her to have any alcohol and then kept trying to talk her out of getting more.”
That made Jason pause. “He was trying to talk her out of it?” he asked carefully.
“Yes, sir. I know what you’re thinking, but if he was trying to get her sloshed to take advantage of her, wouldn’t he be trying to get her drunk?”
Jason hummed in consideration. “Maybe. Or maybe the alcohol would interfere with the drugs he’s using.” He studied her again to catalog any indication of how far gone she was. But he didn’t need to look so closely as in the same moment, she turned toward the man and almost fell into his lap, giggling raucously at the slip. “Have you ever seen anyone that drunk off of two drinks?”
“No,” Jorge admitted begrudgingly. “Not without a bit of assistance.”
Jason nodded in agreement and was moving instantly with a discrete motion to his security when the man eased her up, encouraging her to lean into his embrace as he moved her toward the exit and away from witnesses. The security team had descended on the man, arms pinned to his side and mouth enveloped, before he had taken more than a handful of steps. “Take care of him, as a guest of our establishment,” Jason instructed one of his men, motioning toward the man.
“How severely?” he asked as his men rapidly ushered him off of the floor.
“I don’t have a read on the situation yet. Just hold him for now. Once I find out, I’ll text you.” He watched the woman as she looked around in a circle that she couldn’t seem to break out of, almost stumbling off her heels as her body started to lean a bit too much to one side as she spun. Jason was at her side and supporting her with a hand on her elbow before gravity could take effect.
“I might want to handle it myself,” he growled almost to himself as he turned back to the woman, his scowl fading into a soft smile. “Hey, sweetheart,” he had to fight the chuckle that built up in his chest when she looked up at him just to wrinkle her nose at the name, and he made a mental note not to use that again… unless he wanted to see the cute nose wrinkles again. “I think you should sit down.”
She looked around sloppily, her whole body moving with her head, causing her to stumble deeper into Jason’s embrace, which was the only thing keeping her from falling. She looked back up at him, eyes wide. "Am I not?"
“No, you are not, but you definitely should be.” He helped ease her back onto her seat before he continued. “Look, I’m not going to mince words…”
“Why would you mince words?” she interrupted, her nose wrinkles making another appearance. “Oh! Do you have mince pies here?” She looked up and down the bar expectantly. “I’d love a mince pie.”
“No,” Jason started slowly. He waited for her to realize there were no mince pies but she continued to search the bar until she stood up on the rungs of the stool so she could lean over the bar, braced on her hands, for a better view. At least until she apparently forgot her hands were supporting her and sloppily shoved the hair that had swung into her face, behind her ear. Jason dove to stop her momentum, only breathing a sigh of relief when he wrapped his arm securely around her waist and yanked her back before she could topple ass over heels behind the bar.
She was right about one thing anyway, he grumbled mentally, she desperately needed something in her stomach to soak up the alcohol. He nodded to Jorge as he eased her back into her seat and waited until she began to eat one of the rolls Jorge placed in front of her before he continued. “What I meant to say was, I think you've been drugged.”
“What?” she gasped loudly, both her hands darting to her mouth a bit harder than she intended, one still holding a roll, but she didn’t seem to notice. “Oh no!” She scrunched her nose. “With mince?”
“With mi…” he exhaled deeply and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No. Not with mince. With your drink.”
She eyed the glass in front of her suspiciously for so long Jason could have sworn she’d forgotten what was going on. “No, that doesn’t sound right,” she shook her head slowly, eyes never leaving the glass. “I didn’t have a lager and that’s a lager glass.”
Jason stared at her for a beat before he could force himself to continue. She could get the glass type right but not follow the conversation. “No,” he corrected patiently and pushed the glass away from her. “That wasn’t your drink…” He paused to allow her to fill in her name, but instead of responding, she continued to stare at the glass accusatorily. “What’s your name?” he prompted.
She turned her accusatory stare from the glass to him. “I’m not telling you my name. I don’t know you and you called me ‘Sweetheart’,” she pouted dramatically even as she ripped a chunk of the roll with more aggression than necessary.
Jason grinned at the expression. “Sorry. I’ll find a better nickname in the future. I’m Jason. Jason Todd.”
She grinned brightly and held out her hand for him. Her eyes were back to sparkling, lighting up this portion of the already well lit bar. “Hi, Jason. I’m Marinette.”
He couldn’t stop the laugh this time as he shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Marinette.” He held her hand a few beats longer than necessary but dropped it quickly when he realized what he was doing. “Okay, Marinette, I’d like to see what you were given then take you home.”
She gasped and her eyes lit up even brighter, so bright he swore they could light the way for him to wander through the darkness until he found his way to her. "You're taking me to your home? Ooohhh! I’m so curious what your home looks like." He was about to correct her when she scrunched her nose again and he lost his train of thought. "It isn't all dark and broody like you, is it?"
He raised an eyebrow at her, but she had already looked away and was motioning toward Jorge, who started filling a glass for her. "I have a bet going with Adrien. I said I don't think there's blood stains." She happily took the glass from Jorge with a quick ‘thank you’ and an appreciative grin, which disappeared as soon as she took a sip of the clear liquid. “This doesn’t taste right.”
“No, it does,” Jorge assured her.
“Are you sure?” she asked suspiciously.
“Yep,” Jorge answered with a wink to Jason.
“Where does he think there's blood stains?” Jason interrupted before she could continue.
Marinette took another drink before responding, humming happily at the cool liquid. “Oh, he thinks they're everywhere.”
“I do not have blood stains in my home!” he objected.
“Yay!” she cheered as she bounced in her seat… a little too hard, as it turned out. She didn’t entirely miss the seat on her last bounce, just enough for her to tip off the seat and into Jason, who grabbed her just in time to stop her from landing face first in his lap, and returned her to her seat in one smooth movement. “I win my bet! Adrien owes me a drink,” she continued without missing a beat.
“Yeah, I think you've had quite enough to drink,” he chuckled, his heart still racing slightly from the almost fall even if hers wasn’t.
“I've only had two,” she pouted indignantly and kept pointed eye contact with him as she lifted the glass to her lips.
“Yes, I'm aware. Let's go.” He motioned toward his office.
“Where are we going?" She gasped excitedly. "Are we going to dance?" She grabbed his arm and started to pull him toward the dance floor. “I always wanted to learn to tango.”
“No,” he used her grip in him to direct her back to her chair. He settled his hands on her shoulders. “That song definitely isn’t a tango and you're going home.”
She gasped. “To your home?" She furrowed her brow disapprovingly. "I'm not interested in having sex with you." She turned away to grab her purse, which Jason had to return to the rather distraught owner. "I mean I am, but not tonight. I don't know you. I need to wine and dine you first. I’m more of a coffee shop AU kind of girl than a one-night stand girl anyway. This booty does not receive calls." She paused at the snort Jason let out and turned to him slowly, eyes wide, cheeks darkening. "What I meant to say..."
"Don't worry about it, Pixie,” he waved her off with a chuckle, “you're..."
"…is I’m more of a friends to lovers kind of girl. And you have to meet my friends before we can become lovers. They have to approve. ‘If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends’,” she sang terribly off key and waved her fingers like conducting an orchestra, thrusting her arms far out wider than necessary and almost smacking the woman next to her.
He stared at her. "Right. I’d love to do that. Are your friends nearby now? Can I talk to them?”
“I don’t know why I just sang that song. I hate that song. It’s so annoying,” she pouted as she popped a piece of bread in her mouth… or at least she tried to. The bread missed her mouth spectacularly, flying past her face and hitting the man behind her in the back of his head.
Jason managed to glare the man into submission, waiting until he walked away to return his attention to her, and nodded flippantly. “Yeah, yeah. It worms its way into your brain like Scarecrow’s gas. So, are your fri…”
She turned to him; her expression serious. “I think there may be something in this drink. I can’t taste the food anymore.” He opened his mouth to respond but snapped it shut when her nose did the adorable scrunching thing as she returned her focus to her glass, holding it up to the light and examining the liquid suspiciously.
“Why don’t we get a new one,” he offered with a motion to Jorge. “Now, your friends?”
“My friend was around here somewhere,” she trailed off as she looked around the room, her head whipped about uncoordinatedly and suddenly stilled. She scrunched her eyes closed with a groan, seemingly not noticing how her body was lilting to the side.
Jason just managed to get his arm between her and the bar before her body made contact. “Okay, you're going now."
"You're kicking me out?” she gasped, her head whipping toward him and her eyes immediately scrunching closed again with a groan. She grabbed her head, messing up her hair’s perfect Veronica Lake sleekness. “That was a mistake,” she moaned. She slowly lowered her head to the bar and let it rest there for a few moments before taking a deep breath and sitting back up again, her eyes back on Jason, wide and pleading. “I've never been kicked out of anywhere! What did I do wrong?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," he assured her.
She shook her head, eyes starting to turn glassy. "But I must have if you're kicking me out."
"I'm not..." he let out a long, labored breath. "It’s so I can test you for what drugs you were given."
Her eyes that had been glassy moments before were now wide with alarm. "I’ve been drugged? Oh no!"
Jason pressed his lips together so tightly nothing could be seen but a thin white line both from exasperation and trying not to laugh. "Look kid…”
Marinette let out an offended gasp and looked around hastily, attempting to rapidly catalog who was nearby, but quit and rested her head with a groan again almost immediately. Jason rested his chin on his fist and pushed her back into her seat with a weary sigh. She leaned toward Jason to establish some secrecy. “You let kids in here?” she demanded in a slightly louder than normal voice to be heard over the music. “You should be ashamed of yourself. I thought better of you.”
“We do not let… We have a strict policy…” Jason sputtered. “I meant you!”
She quirked her head to the side and watched him curiously. “You thought I was a kid, and you still gave me alcohol?”
Jason opened and shut his mouth. “No, I didn’t.”
She stared at him analytically, eyes narrowing to help focus her attention. Finally, she seemed to accept his words as her expression softened. “Your eyes are the most unique shade of blue,” she noted breathlessly as if in awe.
Jason snorted and quickly looked away. Or she didn’t accept his words so much as forgot what they were talking about. He turned back to her, eyes slightly narrowed as he considered her, watching attentively as she picked up the new glass of water Jorge set in front of her. “How did you end up here?” he asked before he could stop himself. It was something he’d been wondering about all night and there was no better time to ask.
She grinned brightly. “I know what you’re thinking,” she chirped. “What’s a place like this doing in a girl like me.”
Jason had to focus on not steadying the drink in her hand as she waved it while she talked. “Something like that,” he answered distractedly.
She settled the drink on the bar and leaned closer to Jason, excitement clear in her eyes. “We wanted to celebrate. We wanted to go somewhere we could have fun and not be judged.”
“Certainly, there were better places to do that,” he insisted incredulously. His place was not the place sweet kids went to celebrate. “You have to have known the reputation of this place.”
She scowled and leaned away from him, brow furrowed in disapproval, all signs of excitement gone. “Just because someone says someone else is bad doesn’t mean they are. People can be assholes and usually it isn’t the people with the worst reputations. It’s almost always the people who are the loudest about it.” She rested her elbows on the bar to stabilize herself as she took another drink. “I like to make up my own mind, thank you very much. And I’ve been having a damn fine night. Nobody judging us… until now.”
She stared at him pointedly with her last statement, which honestly impressed him. He hadn’t thought she was capable of it in her state. He might have even let her know how impressed he was but he was too distracted by her words. “And,” he started slowly, “is there something to judge you about?”
She scoffed and looked back at her drink. “I’m Chinese, a woman, and an immigrant. Everything I do is judged. And Adrien is…” she eyed Jason suspiciously. “Doesn’t matter. I think I need another drink.”
Jason quirked his head to the side, placated for the moment. She didn’t sound evil, though they never did, did they? She sounded like she just needed a break. Maybe this place was the prefect place for her after all… except for the drugged thing, which he still needed to resolve. “Okay, Pixie Pop, I'm gonna need you just stand up.”
Marinette looked around her slowly, trying to catalog all the details around them. “Am I not?” she asked emptily. After a beat, she shook her head. “No, I'm not usually this tall when I sit down and I'm pretty tall right now so I must be standing.” She grinned brightly at her brilliant use of logic.
“Okay, that’s it,” Jason grumbled. “This has gone on too long. You’re about to be a lot taller.” He scooped her up and carried her to his office.
She squealed and clung tight to him, her head hidden tightly in the crook of his neck. They were halfway to his office before her grip loosened and her body relaxed. Her head popped up and bobbed around a bit as she observed the room. “Oh, this is much taller,” she agreed. She turned back to him, not noticing how close their faces were as she did.
Jason, however, had to focus on keeping his breath steady and not turning his head just the fraction of an inch it would take for his lips to brush against hers. She rested her head in the crook of his neck and let out a contented sigh as she snuggled in. “So nice,” she hummed.
Jason just barely kept himself from tripping on the stairs to his office. She felt so natural in his arms, like she was meant to be there, like she fit perfectly… or he needed to sleep. That was more likely. Far more likely than that he was already falling for a woman who he’d only interacted with while she was intoxicated. What if she was always drunk? What if she was a junkie? He discretely checked her arms as he placed her on the couch. No track marks, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. She could just be really good at hiding it.
She looked around slowly. He could have sworn nothing was registering until she looked back at him with a smile. “See, no blood stains! I was right!” Her smile quickly turned into a frown. “Not very homey though. Do you feel relaxed here?”
Jason very consciously forced himself not to look at the rug, which definitely was not hiding several separate blood stains from several different occasions. “This is my office, not my home. But yes, I do get to relax here.”
She eyed him skeptically then looked around again, her head lolling to the back of the couch as she did. “You said you were taking me home,” she pouted.
“After I tested you to see what you were given,” he corrected, quickly making his way to a box on his shelf. He held up a little rectangle and a strip of paper. “This is going to prick your finger,” he shook the rectangle, “so this,” he shook the paper, “can collect your blood. Then that,” he motioned toward a machine next to the box, “will tell me what you’ve been given. State of the art. The best my ex-father’s money can buy.”
Marinette frowned. “That sounds painful.” Her eyes suddenly lit up and she straightened up but moved a bit too far forward. She swayed backward to counteract her momentum but overcorrected and slammed back into the couch. She sat back up slowly with a glare at the couch as she moved until she was sitting up straight without swaying and threw Jason a hopeful smile. “Oh! I should get another drink before you do it! To help with the pain.”
Jason snorted but knelt down in front of her to meet her eyes with a comforting look. “Absolutely not. It’ll be okay. It's just a little prick. You'll barely feel it at all,” he promised.
Marinette snorted inelegantly falling over on the couch as giggles racked her body. “That's… that’s not usually… what men say to me,” she gasped out between laughs. “They certainly never used it as a selling point, but you should get points for honesty.”
Jason huffed and rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the bemused tug on his lips. “I'll keep that in mind. But in this case the needle,” he emphasized the words heavily and shook it in front of her, “won't hurt at all.” He waited for her to settle down and sit up straight again before he cleaned her finger and pricked it, quickly collecting the blood in the sample strip.
Marinette watched his actions intently. It wasn’t until he had already put the strip into the machine that she yowled and stuffed her finger in her mouth. “You lied!” she accused with a deep scowl that for the life of him, reminded him of an angry kitten.
He cocked his head and his lips quirked to the side as he considered his options given the behavior he’d noted over the last half hour or so. He plopped onto the couch next to her. “Lied about what?” he asked innocently. It was a gamble, but he felt it was a safe one.
She scrunched her brow even further then rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling as if trying to search her mind. “I don't remember,” she pouted, “but I know you did.”
Jason's grin widened. “You know I did what?” he asked slyly. He couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face, perhaps the first real one of the night. Hell, probably the first real one of the month.
She opened her mouth to respond but snapped it close correctly. Her scowl eased into a soft smile. “You have a really nice smile. Did you know that? You should smile more. I love seeing your smile. Well, this smile.” She looked away, her head slightly wobbling about as a frown tugged her lips down. “I’ve seen the smile you give some people. Those aren’t nice smiles. They’re like the ones Adrien would give to executives he didn’t like.”
She looked back up at him, her pout softening again as she looked into his eyes. “But this one is pretty. It makes you look childlike and carefree. It makes me think you like to laugh and love.” She raised her hand to gently rest it on his cheek but accidentally slapped him instead. “It’s a good look on you.”
Jason got lost in her eyes, the sting from the slap quickly fading into a warmth that spread throughout his body. He wanted to nuzzle into her hand. He wanted to nuzzle into her hair and let her scent wash over him, which was stupid because he didn’t know her. If his past had taught him anything, it taught him everyone has an angle and those that don’t will let you down. There was nothing about this, about her, that would change that.
But the brightness in her eyes drew him in, beckoned him forward with promises of transparency and virtue. Everything about the way she had been acting, with inhibitions too lowered to pretend, indicated to him she was the last option he’d considered; a legitimate, hardworking person not working an angle. It was the most curious thing he’d seen in a while, maybe years. It was enough that he wanted to know her better, really get to know her, maybe in a situation where he gets to touch her and hold her close, because everything he’d seen so far had blown him away, but in a good way this time.
He opened his mouth to return the compliment but was interrupted by a ding from the machine. He let out a deep breath and gently removed her hand from his cheek, lightly returning it to her lap. This was the moment of truth. The moment he found out how angry he got to be with her acquaintance; how violent he got to be with him. He scanned over the report quickly but returned to the top to read it again more slowly… and again. That could not be right, but no matter how many times he reread the report, the results remained the same.
“Oh my God!” he exclaimed with a laugh as he dropped down next to her again. “You're not drugged, you're just drunk... off of two drinks!”
Marinette scoffed and waved him off with an uncoordinated wave. “Don't be ridiculous. I'm French.”
“Well, Mademoiselle Frenchie, you are Le Drunk.” He barked out another incredulous laugh. That pretty well assured him that she was not in fact a drunk, and likely not a junkie either, though he desperately wanted to take a hair sample to just verify, he managed to stop himself. If two drinks could have this effect on her, there was no chance she drank regularly. Hell, even one glass of wine a week should make her at least a bit more immune. “You, Pixie should not drink.”
She glowered and dropped her head hard against the back of the couch. “I knoooow,” she groaned. “Adrien tried to talk me out of it, but I wanted to have a nice night. A carefree night. I’m always so responsible. I wanted a night where I let loose.”
Jason nodded in understanding. That is what his club was supposed to offer people. “Adrien was the man you were with?”
She screwed up her eyes as if focusing very hard for a solid minute before nodding awkwardly. “Yes. It was definitely Adrien and not Felix this time. He's in London with Kagami and Evan.” Her eyes suddenly lit up and her whole face brightened as she straightened up and bounced in her spot, missing Jason tucking his phone back in his pocket. “Can I tell you a secret?” She stopped, her face morphing into a serious expression. “You don't know any of my friends, right?”
“Uh... right,” Jason agreed, fairly confident in his response. He must have chosen correctly because Marinette grinned brightly in response.
“Great, then I can tell you. But you still can’t tell anyone.” She leaned closer to him, weaving a bit closer than he was sure she intended to. “Adrien is looking for an engagement ring! He asked me to help design it. Isn't that amazing! I'm so excited!” She fell back against the back of the couch with a dreamy expression on her face, missing the way his body subconsciously followed her. “Adrien so deserves to be happy.”
“And what about you?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“Me?” She scrunched her nose in confusion again. “I don't need to design an engagement ring for myself.”
“No, I meant...”
“What would I even do with it? Propose to myself?” She giggled hysterically and lifted up her hand as if to examine an engagement ring on her finger. “Who are you engaged to? Myself. Could you imagine? It would be hilarious. I should do it. Do you have paper and a pen?” She looked around on the couch, separating the cushions to look there, her body still shaking with laughter.
“So, there’s nobody else who wants to propose to you?” he clarified.
Her laughter died down immediately, her smile morphing into a deep pout. “No, nobody who would want to marry me. Not even anyone who wants to kiss me. Everyone's getting kisses but me.” She met his eyes for a moment and brightened up. “Hey, do you want to kiss me?”
Jason started for a second before answering. For a long moment, he considered agreeing to it. He was definitely interested. She was beautiful and funny and sweet, and she made him want to try. She was the first person in a long time to do so. The first one that sparked something in him, something he’d feared had been beaten out of him. And she was drunk.
He sighed and shot her a wry smile. “I haven't gotten your friends' approvals yet. I don't think I'm allowed. Plus, we aren't friends yet. We have to be friends if we want to make the friends to lovers transition.”
She pouted again and slumped in her chair. “I hate slow burns.”
He snickered and gently brushed her hair behind her ear. “You don't have to be friends long before you make the change. We decide how long the burn is, right?”
She considered and nodded determinedly. “Right.”
He fought a snort and moved to meet her eyes, fixing her with an earnest look. “How about you come back when you're sober and if you're still interested, we can go out on a friend date?”
“A friend date,” she repeated slowly.
“Yeah, we get like dinner or something and talk. Become friends with no expectations. Then in a few weeks, if you're still interested, we can start the lovers part.”
She quirked her head to the side, accidentally knocking it into the back of the couch and rubbing her head absently. “Doesn’t that mean we have expectations? And is it a date then or just hanging out?”
He bobbed his head to the side in agreement and opened his mouth to respond but a knock at the door stopped him before he could. Marinette looked around and stared at the large fish tank concernedly for a moment before her eyes widened. “You have a secret room! That is so cool!” she gushed excitedly. “Can I go in it?” She was up and trying to make her way to the wall next to the fish tank faster than he thought she could move, which clearly he was right about because she started to fall forward.
Jason jumped up instantly, at first to intervene before she found the lever that opened the door to the secret room, marveling and a bit concerned over how she knew not only that there was a secret room behind the fish tank but also the exact right area to look for the lever. But ultimately, it meant he was there to grab her before she fell, scooping her up into his embrace again. “Come in,” he called once he’d set her firmly on the ground.
“M’lady!” Adrien called, instantly in front of her and pulling her into a tight hug. He glared over her shoulder at Jason, who merely shrugged at the glare. Honestly, a pretty good glare. Not up there with Batman or Alfred, but a solid contender and definitely deserved. Jason certainly hadn’t responded well when he’d thought Adrien had plans to take advantage of her. He could only assume Adrien felt the same. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?”
Marinette quirked her head to the side. “No?” She looked over at Jason with a pout. “He won’t even kiss me.”
Adrien blinked a few times before nodding. “Well… that’s…” He looked over at Jason with significantly less hostility. “Thank you for that.”
Jason shrugged. “Not my thing. And not allowed in my club. It’s why I had you removed. Sorry about that. I suspected you may have drugged her. But in my defense, I’d never seen anyone that drunk off two drinks.”
Adrien snickered and nodded in agreement. “It is quite something. Very amusing… when you aren’t out in public. She absolutely cannot handle champagne. Sorry she disrupted your night.”
Jason waved him off. “She really didn’t. I very much enjoyed it actually.”
Adrien gave him a knowing look. “Right. Well, I’m going to get her home. Thank you again for looking out for her.” With a final nod, he started walking toward the door.
“Bye, Jason,” Marinette called to him.
Jason followed them out the door and watched them as they crossed the floor to the exit before responding, pretty confident he wouldn’t see her again. “Bye, Pixie,” he whispered.
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It took six days for Marinette to work up the nerve to return to the Iceberg Lounge. The first day had been spent recovering from her hangover. The next few had been spent attempting to get over her embarrassment. And by then it was the last day of Adrien’s visit and she couldn’t give that up to go check on some guy. Which was not a pathetic excuse, no matter what Adrien said. The next few days had been spent working up the courage to return.
And now here she stood, at the Lounge doors trying to convince the bouncer to let her in to see Jason. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to be successful or not, but regardless of her desires, the club manager appeared and immediately let her in with a smile that looked suspiciously grateful.
Marinette00 shook her hands to get rid of the nerves causing them to tremble as she made her way across the floor. It was ridiculous. She’d fought akumas. She’d fought monsters and literal nightmares. She could certainly speak with a man who, if she remembered correctly, which Tikki had assured her she did, had already assured her he was interested. And it wasn’t like there was any pressure anyway. It was just a friend date. She loved meeting new friends. New sexy, respectful, smart friends that made Marinette’s heart race and skin burn whenever he was near.
Jason was in the middle of giving instructions for the night, a considerably slower night than the weekend had been, slow enough that he might even be able to get out for a bit as Hood, when he noticed his staff looking over his shoulder with a mix of amusement and relief, which was a significant change from their behavior all week. They had been on edge and he knew it was his fault. He’d been snapping at everything, even the most innocent things since Marinette left. When she didn’t return the next night, or the night after, Jason was reassured of the accuracy of his assessment and it hit him harder than he had expected.
So, when they suddenly looked excited, he had to stop mid word to see what was causing the reaction. He was glad he was faced away from his staff so they couldn’t witness the way his jaw dropped at the sight of her. Whereas before she had been the embodiment of Veronica Lake, oozing sensuality that almost seemed to conflict with the innocent look in her eyes, now she embraced it, appearing closer to the embodiment of Audrey Hepburn, exuding class and virtue with a demure sex appeal from which he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Hi,” she said shyly with a small wave.
“Hi,” Jason grinned back. “Daphne, I’m going to have to go now. You’re in charge for the night.” He clapped her on the back and walked away without ever taking his eyes from Marinette. “Let’s get out of here,” he paused, suddenly losing the confidence in his eyes. “If you’re still interested. If that’s what you want.”
She grinned brightly and nodded, taking a step closer to him. “I am. It is. I’d like to get to know you better and see what happens. I could use another friend in Gotham.”
Jason breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m very friendly.” He ignored the incredulous looks from his staff he was sure were pointed at his back. “How would you feel about a friendly plate of food… and no wine? Come on, I’ll drive.”
She rolled her eyes but chuckled nonetheless. “I can handle wine, just not champagne.”
He stared at her incredulously from the corner of his eye as they walked side by side toward the exit. “How about we not test that tonight? You know what we should do though?” he asked as she passed by him as he held the door open for her, his voice betraying his childlike excitement at the idea, a feeling he hadn’t felt in longer than he cared to examine. He stopped at the driver’s side door and looked at her expectantly.
“What’s that?” she asked suspiciously, her mouth quirked up betraying her amusement.
“Tango lessons!” he grinned as he slid into the car.
She stared at the space he had just inhabited slack jawed for a few beats before she rolled her eyes and joined him in the car. “Tango lessons,” she scoffed.
“Tango lessons,” he confirmed with a bright grin.
ramos123 reblogged
Do We Dare to Dream? - Chapter 4
…didn’t realize i didn’t post this before sleeping…I got work in like 6 hours…enjoy :D
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Tag: @hammalammadamdam
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The invasion of the League’s headquarters quickly made Ra’s reconsider the security and loyalty of his men, Ra’s quickly worked to fix that issue…even if it meant killing every person who showed even the slightest bit of uncertainty.
As for Jason, after being dipped into the Lazarus Pit, he was put to work, being given his first solo mission in a long while.
“Meet Damian.” Talia introduced, Jason simply looking at the 7 year old boy staring back at him.
He had seen the boy a few times, having always been ushered away whenever Damian would want to use the library or training grounds for his own. He was never allowed to interact with the boy…not that he would have cared if it weren’t for the reactions the others would have around them.
He would hear the murmurs and whispers that would follow when instructors would look at Damian and then at him. Stares that judged and compared Jason to Ra’s grandson…
Something was up, but he didn’t dare to try and figure it out. After all, he didn’t want to die again.
“I don’t trust him.” Damian told his mother as he started to fumble with the handle of his newly gifted dagger.
“Damian.” Talia warned, turning back to Jason. “For your next assignment, you are in charge of my son’s safety.”
”Safety?” Jason dared to ask, earning a glare from Ra’s.
“You will be escorting him to his father’s place.” Talia finished, watching as Damian looked at her wide eyed.
His father?
“We will be providing transport up until you get to Gotham.” At that name, Jason felt his mind muddle. “From there on, you will go to this address. That is where you will find Damian’s father.”
Jason accepted the package Talia handed him, which judging by its weight, was probably filled with a letter and some currency.
“Upon arriving there, you will keep a close eye on him until Talia or I come back to get him.” Ra’s clarified.
“Understood.” Jason said, accepting the assignment with no further questions, knowing what would happen should he ask any other question.
“You leave in an hour.” With that, Jason left to prepare to head to Gotham, with an odd feeling looming over his head and heart.
ramos123 reblogged
A friendly reminder: If you are in any way annoyed or upset that the shows you're excited for have had their production halted by the strikes, the ONLY people who deserve your anger are the CEOs and studio executives who forced the workers' hands. These people had no choice but to strike if they want to survive. Getting paid literal pennies in some cases (I have seen residuals as low as a single cent) and being threatened with replacement by an AI that runs on theft and only serves to make assholes a quick buck with bad, mashed-up stolen content while screwing you out of your job does not leave you with a lot of options.
DO NOT blame striking workers for the fact that production of new media is being halted. DO blame the greedy cartoon-villain-ass motherfuckers who essentially forced them to strike.
ramos123 reblogged
Taylor Swift lockscreens + The Eras Tour part 2 (requested by anonymous)
- four lockscreens, 1284x2778
- click to load full size
- please like and reblog if using
- please message me if you’d like a different color
- DO NOT re-edit, repost, or claim as your own
ramos123 reblogged
ramos123 reblogged
Refugee (Jasonette July)
There are those who say the world will end with a bang. Something big, perhaps an explosion. Something loud and undeniably bad. Something that happens and you know, right from the second it happens, that it's the end. That there is no coming back from it. Then, there are the others. Those who claim it will end in a whimper. The silent killer. An end that sneaks and creeps by until everyone and everything is gone. Marinette wasn't sure how to categorize the actual end of the world. In fact, it was impossible to know if it was actually the end of the world or just the United States of America since all communication had ceased shortly after the lights went out. It had never been her intention to die so far from everyone she loved. Her trip to Gotham, despite the fact that it was Gotham, was supposed to be relatively easy. Just a short trip to check out the University before going sight seeing in the neighboring cities. She'd gotten as far as the University when the first attack happened.
ramos123 reblogged
You know who you are.
Which is great because I don’t.
