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#enough to even let me run it smoothly via whats it fuckin called
reformedmercymain · 2 years
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Really wish my brother would abuse his friendship with the lone echo devs to get me a free copy of the new one
#i don't even own the first one tbh. fucked up and evil moments#i rlly don't have a lot of VR games bc I don't have a lot of space available to play in my house#if i didn't have dogs i could use the living room but i can't sadge#and to be fair lone echo would require being hooked up to my comp and i can't run a cable that far and idk if my internet would play nice#enough to even let me run it smoothly via whats it fuckin called#c talks#so envious that my brother used to work for oculus ages ago. he has the like original demo product somewhere in storage. he could probably#sell it for a lot to some Brand Fanboy type person#it's so weird to now be on the low end of PC graphics. at least for VR that is.#my 1080ti used to be king. but now it's like entry level for the best VR games#however even Back In The Day™ subnautica melted peoples 1080ti's and they had to like. lower the shit down so it wouldn't do that#(even when it wasnt vr)#why do i get so rant-y when i'm tired. i can just talk all night to myself in fuckin tags#if he still worked for oculus we could probably get some badass deals on vr shit but nah#at the time he lived in a house made up of like entirely other employees at oculus#I got to go into Facebook HQ late at night to sign NDAs just to play with shit that they hadn’t even began to whisper about to the public ☺️#but I actually respected the NDA bc it was my brothers job who’d be on the line. but it drove me crazy to not tell people about how it#felt to use vr controllers. since they didn’t exist back then#it was like a year before anything was announced to the public too#fuck Facebook but I will say the headquarters campus was p nice
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breanime · 4 years
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Arms
More for my Miguel Galindo story! I need to find a common title to call this verse... Quick pre-note: This part occurs before Eyes, I italicized the Spanish, but there are a few parts were the characters are conversing in Spanish and I didn’t want to have you guys scroll to the bottom for translations, so I just italicized the whole section. 
WARNING: mentions of cheating, my first time writing the MC boys, language
*gif not mine*
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You were fucking freezing. In order to sneak back into the U.S, you had to hitch a ride in a frozen meat truck, and your jeans and jacket weren’t thick enough to keep you warm. The truck delivered you to the MC, and you let the guys fuss over you—more concerned mother than collective dangerous bikers—as they led you into the clubhouse.
“Adelita’s on her way with Galindo and his crew,” Bishop informed you as he held the door open for you, “We’ll meet with them and come to some kind of agreement on our next move.”
“Yeah, sure,” you hugged yourself, not even trying to keep your teeth from chattering, “Sounds good.”
“You want a drink, chiquita?” Angel asked, already heading to the bar with Coco and Gilly.
“We got that nasty prison wine you like,” Coco added, grinning.
“I can’t help that I have taste,” you laughed back, “but nah, I’m good.”
“How about a coffee?” EZ asked, coming over to you with a soft smile. “I can get you a hot chocolate if you’d like.”
“Coffee would be great,” you replied, “thanks, Prospect.”
“No problem… here.” EZ took off his hoodie and offered it to you, shrugging his kutte back on with his free hand. “You look cold,” he explained.
You smiled. EZ was a sweet guy. “Thanks,” you put it on, laughing when you both saw how big it was on you, “’Preciate it.”
“Don’t mention it,” he led you to the bar, going behind it to make you some coffee, “So… A meat truck?”
You shrugged, smirking. “Adelita gets a private tour through the tunnels with Miguel, and I get to crouch down between dead cows. But that’s what it means to be Number Two.”
“Eh, you’re not missing much with Galindo,” EZ said, leaning against the bar, “He’s a prick.”
You bit your lip; you liked EZ, but you didn’t want to get into the whole Miguel Galindo thing with him. You knew the two of them had bad blood between them, and the MC wasn’t that fond of him in general, and even Adelita only worked with him because he was the lesser of two evils, but you… You kind of liked him. He wasn’t at all what you imagined he’d be like: he was poised, smart, witty and exhaustingly attractive. A part of you thought maybe Adelita thought so too, but you saw the way she was with Angel, so you knew she’d never actually go for Miguel. And neither would you—he was El Diablo, after all. You would just lust after him in secret like any self-respecting rebel would do. “Yeah,” you said, zipping EZ’s hoodie up, “he is…but he’s kind of… interesting, too…”
EZ raised an eyebrow, and you regretted giving Miguel a compliment to the one guy with a photographic memory. “Interesting?” He repeated. “You think Miguel Galindo, the cartel boss, is interesting?”
“She thinks he’s got an interesting cock,” Coco butt in, coming to sit beside you. He grinned at your glare. “What? You think we don’t notice the way you look at him, chiquita?” He tapped the bar twice, and EZ supplied him with a beer.
“Yeah,” Angel added, standing next to Coco and taking the beer EZ was drinking out of his hands, taking a sip as he spoke, “Every time you see him, your pants catch on fire.”
Your eyes narrowed. Your friends were more perceptive than you thought. “At least I don’t trip all over myself when I talk to him like you with Adelita.”
“What? I don’t do that—”
“You do, man,” EZ chuckled.
“It’s cute!” Coco added.
“Anyway,” Angel turned back to you, “Galindo’s married…” He glanced over at EZ quickly before looking back at you. “So if you hook up, you’re gonna have to do it on the other side where his wife won’t find out.”
“Or, you know, not at all…” EZ muttered.
“Why?” You bat your eyelashes at him. “Are you jealous, Ezekiel?”
“Oh, he’s jealous, just not of you, chiquita,” Angel smirked against his beer bottle.
“Don’t you two have something to do?” EZ asked Angel and Coco. “A secret to keep or rumors to spread?”
“What are we, the chicks from Mean Girls?” Angel asked back.
“Nah, we do have some shit we should handle before the meeting,” Coco said, standing up and pushing away from the bar, “Let’s give the two lovebirds some alone time.” He winked at you before walking away, a laughing Angel at his side.
“Fuckin’ idiots,” EZ muttered with a smile, turning to pour your coffee, “You take it black or with sugar?”
“I take it any way I can,” you grinned, laughing when EZ rolled his eyes.
He made your coffee, handing it over to you, shaking his head. “I know you speak Spanish and English, but is flirty your native language?”
“I got a talented tongue, Prospect,” you purred.
EZ said something back, but you didn’t hear him because the door behind you opened and the air changed, and you knew…
…Miguel was there.
You didn’t turn to look, but your hunch was confirmed by the frown on EZ’s face.
“Your boyfriend’s here,” he muttered.
You sipped your coffee, flipping EZ off as you did. You could hear the sounds of hands on hands and the slapping of backs as the men greeted each other. Adelita was with them, and you saw Angel practically run to her from the corner of your eye. Because Miguel never went anywhere alone, you heard Alvarez speaking to Bishop (“good to see you, primo”) as Nestor and Taza shook up.
“He’s looking at you,” EZ said as he pretended to wipe the counter, “I don’t think he likes us talking.” He smirked, that classic Reyes smirk. “Oh, he definitely doesn’t like us talking.”
“He could give a shit,” you said, rolling your eyes. But your heart was starting to speed up a bit. You hopped down from your seat. “Come on, Prospect. We have to say hello.” You waited for EZ to come around the bar so you could walk with him.
You went to Adelita first, and she—in an unusually open show of affection—hugged you. She was frowning when she pulled back, and she put her hands on the side of your face. “You’re chilled to the bone, lobatita.”
You shrugged. “I came via meat truck.”
“You’re shivering,” Adelita noted, speaking in English and frowning over at Angel.
“It was the only way to get her here undetected, Adelita,” Angel explained sheepishly, even though the method of your transportation hadn’t even been his idea at all.
“In a meat truck?” Miguel asked, eyebrow raised and voice unimpressed. “That was the best you could do?”
“Well next time, maybe you can handle the minor details,” Bishop shot back.
“Why don’t we have a drink,” Alvarez interjected smoothly, putting his arm around Bishop and already leading him away, “then we can discuss business, eh?”
“We need to get you warm,” Adelita said, dropping her hands to your arms and rubbing them.
“I’m good, Adelita,” you smiled, “The Prospect is taking care of me.”
“Supplying her with caffeine and dirty clothes,” EZ reported with a grin.
Miguel eyed your outfit, and you saw his eyes narrow. Maybe EZ had been right when he said Miguel didn’t like the two of you talking. You turned to EZ, deciding to test his theory. “My hero,” you bat your eyelashes again, and you could see Miguel cross his arms over his chest, “Hey, EZ, can I hang in your trailer while I wait for Adelita to be done?”
“Yeah, no problem,” EZ grinned, dropping his arm around your shoulder, “Chucky will come get us when it’s time.”
You let EZ lead you out of the clubhouse, but you glanced back to see if Miguel was maybe looking…
…and he was. His arms were still crossed, the fancy material of his shirt straining against his muscles and a frown on his face. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and he was glaring at you.
The meeting ended up taking much longer than you’d thought, and EZ left the trailer to do some chores before being scooped up by Felipe and disappearing into the night. EZ had told you to make yourself at home, so you took a nap on his couch-bed, snuggled in his hoodie, still cold from your ride. You figured EZ wouldn’t be back for a while, and you didn’t know how/when/if you’d be going back to Mexico, so you wanted to catch up on some sleep. You were still in that hazy state between consciousness and unconsciousness when you felt hands on your arms.
“Wake up, princesa.” You blinked yourself awake, eyes widening when you saw Miguel leaning over you, his hands running up and down your arm.
“Miguel…” You said, voice low as you sat up. It was very rare for you to be speechless, but you were. His eyes were boring into yours, and there was an intensity in his gaze that you hadn’t seen before. “…What are you doing here?”
“I came to get you,” he said simply, looking down at his hand on your arm, “and to see what you were doing with the Prospect.” He looked back up at you, and his grip on your arm tightened a bit. “Aiming kind of low there, don’t you think?”
“What?”
“With the Prospect. EZ.” His hand moved from your arm to the zipper of the hoodie under your chin. “You’re too good for him.”
“How do you know that?” You asked, staring at Miguel as he stared at his hand on the zipper. “That I’m too good for him?”
Miguel looked up at you, a small smirk on his face. “I’m good at reading people.” He unzipped the hoodie, and your heart was pounding so hard, you thought it might beat out of your chest. “Most people,” he amended, his hand moving slowly as he tugged the zipper down, “You’re not so easy to read…” He paused, having successfully unzipped EZ’s hoodie, and looked up at you. “Did they really have you in a meat truck?”
You nodded. “It was fucking freezing.”
“Yeah, I bet.” His hands went to your shoulders, and he slid the hoodie off of you, letting it fall to the floor. “That’s the last time that’s happening,” he promised, “I thought it would be smart to have you and Adelita travel separately, in case anything happened, but…” He shook his head. “I’m making the arrangements for you from now on.”
“You or Nestor?” You teased.
Miguel chuckled. “Me, princesa.” He raised his chin. “So you can tell the Prospect to take his shit back.”
You bit back a smile. “But I’m so cold,” you whined, putting your arms over your chest.
“I got something for that,” Miguel said. He pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around you, making you melt against him instantly. Miguel was warm and solid; he smelled like expensive cologne with hints of exotic spices and sandalwood, and you dropped your head on his shoulder.
You closed your eyes, trying to commit this moment to your memory because you were certain it would never happen again. “This… Is much better than the meat truck.”
Miguel laughed, pulling back. He laughed again when he saw your frown. “I’ll escort you back to the other side myself,” he promised, and you knew he meant it, “I’ve been meaning to have some… one on one time with you…” He shrugged off his jacket, and you licked your lips.
“You want one on one time with me?” You asked. “Why?”
Miguel looked at you, his dark eyes traveling down your body and back to your face, making your heart skip a beat from the heat of his gaze. Carefully, he draped his jacket over your shoulders, engulfing you in his scent. He put a hand under your chin, and you leaned into his grasp. “Cariño,” he said, his voice low and deep and intoxicating, “I think you know why.”
“You’re married,” you whispered back.
“I am.”
“You’re the Devil.”
He smirked. “Depends on who you ask…”
You leaned in closer, and so did he. It would only take a small nudge to move you from your position and back into Miguel’s arms, and you wanted back in his arms—bad. “What exactly is it that you want from me, Miguel?” You asked, trying to think smart about this, even though you wanted nothing more than to crawl onto his lap and defile EZ’s trailer with him.
He laughed, shaking his head as he did so. “I don’t even know,” he said honestly, “I just know that I find my mind wandering back to you more often than not, and that I can’t keep my eyes off of you when we’re in the same room… And I think it’s the same for you, too, isn’t it?”
You swallowed. “It’s… similar.”
Miguel smirked at you, and you had to remind yourself that he was the Devil, and everyone knew the Devil was beautiful. You couldn’t let yourself fall for that face. “So, what should we do about our… similar feelings here?”
“I—”
A knock on the door had you both separating quickly, Miguel jumping to his feet, and you ripping his jacket off and sitting back.
“Y/N? Mr. Miguel Galindo of the Galindo cartel?” Chucky called from the other side of the door. “Adelita is looking for you both.”
“Coming!” You shouted back, handing Miguel his jacket and picking EZ’s hoodie up from the floor. You moved to walk past Miguel, but he put a hand on your arm and stopped you.
“Keep it,” he said, referring to his jacket. He took EZ’s hoodie and dropped it back on the floor, handing you his jacket. Then he leaned down, his mouth almost on your ear. “We’ll continue our conversation later.”
You nodded, once again unable to speak—a frustrating symptom of Miguel’s closeness. He watched you put his jacket on, his eyes taking you in, lingering on your arms in his sleeves. He put a hand on the small of your back and steered you out of the trailer, opening the door for you and rolling his eyes at the sight of a smiling Chucky.
You couldn’t help but stare at Miguel’s arm on the door as you walked out…
…wondering what it would feel like to have those arms wrapped around you with no jacket or hoodie or single piece of clothing in the way…
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So my intention is to post some of my oneshots for this verse, and if you guys like it, then I’ll write some connected fics and put in a little more detail. Just let me know what you think, cause I have a lot of ideas for this pairing! Also, if there’s a specific scenario between them that you’d like to see, just let me know, maybe I can fit it in somwhere. 
Translations: chiquita- little girl/little lady/shorty El Diablo-The Devil  lobatita- little (she) wolf
I’m still working on updating my taglist, but here’s what we got now:
Current/Old EverythingTaglist: @lexxierave​ @loveintheroyalfamily​  @fanfictionrecommendations-com​  @maxslime-blog​ @songforhema​ @lucielandss @themadhatter92​  @the-blind-assassin-12​ @christinawxxx​ @anabella-baby @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @luminex3​ @littlemermaidprobz​ @ashkuuuu​ @luckysstrikes​ @carlaangel86​ @floralpeaceofmind​ @dylanobrusso​ @iaintnofurry​  @ymariejp​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @mrsjaxtellerfan​ @holamor​ @drinix​ @rhabakoli​ @stories-you-wont-hear​ @king4thesirens​ @leahnicole1219​ @evanlys19​  @binbons-is-theloml​
New/ Working Everything Taglist: @jigsawlover10​ @gollyderek​ @charlylama​ @realduckvader​ @teacuplotus​ @whovianayesha​
Nick Amaro/Miguel Galindo Taglist: @glimmerglittergirl​ @cococruz-mayansmc​
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chibinightowl · 6 years
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Home for the Holidays
For the Batfam Christmas Stocking 2017:
For @connanro-chan​
Prompt: vigilantism with a light side of burglary (to be fair, this didn’t turn out the way I wanted, but I think it worked out in the end!)
Cassandra crouches on the edge of a building in the Bowery, her cape wrapped tight around her in the chill winter air. Fresh snow had fallen during the day leaving the landscape all pretty and white under the clear skies. But it’s also bitterly cold and she wishes she still wore her original Batgirl suit as at least that had a full-face mask, unlike her Black Bat uniform. But she’s here with a purpose and she will not be deviated from it, not on Christmas Eve.
Earlier this week, Cass learned what Bruce wants most for Christmas and she’s bound and determined to make it happen. But bringing a wayward bird home is no easy task, especially one who will fight tooth and nail to avoid it. She’s willing to try, especially since it will do both of them good in terms of patching their relationship. It’s as plain as day to her that Bruce misses Jason and that Jason wants to come home, but doesn’t know how.
She knows that not everyone sees things the way she does, but even Stephanie has picked up on it. Her best friend says they’re being stupid boys, which is true, but there’s more to it than that. Years and years of harsh words and even harsher actions have brought the two men to where they are now. It’ll take more than just an apology from either of them to start fixing things.
It’ll take action. And that’s something Cass knows she can help with because to her, actions speak louder than words.
Tim has mentioned before that Jason has an uncanny ability of knowing when someone Batty is in his territory. She hopes she counts, even though they’ve rarely crossed paths on the streets before. Jason is not someone she needs to be wary of, at least physically. Tim has also commented on how quick their brother is with his mouth, which is still something she struggles with. Words are hard for her while Jason wields them like a weapon.
She waits with an inborn stillness that’s been drilled into her since childhood. It’s not too long before she senses movement behind her. There’s no sound, but Cass knows she is not alone.
As the person gets closer, there’s a purposeful crunch of gravel and snow under a heavy boot. It takes skill to move silently in conditions like this, skill Cassandra appreciates. She doesn’t move, but she doesn’t have to. Jason steps up beside her, dressed in full Red Hood gear, including his helmet. She glances over and suppresses a smirk at the slightly poufy look to his clothes. Just like with her uniform, there’s a layer of winter thermals beneath the armor, not that it’s doing much good in this weather.
Jason eyes her carefully. He’s not sure what she’s here for and it makes him…not nervous, but he’s uncertain. It’s easy enough to read even with the purposefully relaxed stance he’s forced himself into.
“What’re you doin’ here?” he asks finally, his voice lower and raspier with the modulator in his helmet.
“I am here for you,” Cass replies, not seeing a point in lying. She turns to face him directly.
“For me?” Jason doesn’t even try to hide his surprise. “Why?”
“Because it’s Christmas.”
The man stiffens and takes a cautious step back. He knows he’s trapped even if she has barely moved a muscle. “So what?” he snaps back. “I got a bar I’ll be headin’ to shortly. A few beers and a bottle of Jack are waitin’ for me.”
Cass stands and shakes her head. “No. Eggnog. Alfred says it is tradition.”
“Are you gonna try and drag me back to the Manor then? I don’t fuckin’ think so.” They both know that’s a lie. It’ll be hard, but Cass can carry him if she needs to, even if he’s been nerve-struck into unconsciousness.
“Bruce wants you there, even if he won’t say so. I will settle for tonight and am willing to bargain for it first.” It goes unsaid what the second option is.
“What am I, your Christmas gift or somethin’?” Jason snaps defensively. He’s looking for an escape but there isn’t one. Not here, not with her; the one Bat he’s truly afraid of.
Interesting. Cass knows she’s never done anything to him before, so he must have heard about her from the others. Or even the League as he’s got old ties to them, just like she does. But as with any telling, her story grows more and more impressive. This can work for her. Finally, a leg up on Jason that doesn’t involve violence.
“No. I already bought gifts for everyone. Including you.” From a pouch in her utility belt, she withdraws a carefully wrapped package and holds it up. “You are my brother after all.”
Jason chuckles darkly, the sound more ominous through his helmet. “No, I’m not.”
“You are,” Cass insists. “We are both adopted by Bruce.”
“I died. Pretty sure that makes my adoption null and void.”
“Not to Bruce. Or Alfred.” She knows better than to say any of the others. “You are Bruce’s son the same way I am his daughter. We are family.”
Her words are making Jason angry. “We’re not shit. Leave me the fuck alone.” He takes a step back, which forces Cassandra to jump down off the ledge. She doesn’t close the gap though.
“Tonight is all I want,” she says. “I am still prepared to bargain, little brother.”
Jason snorts in disbelief. “Little brother? You’ve gotta be kiddin’.”
Cass shakes her head. “I am older than you by two months.”
“I was dead for longer than that.” Jason’s way with words is distracting her. She knew this could happen and it annoys her a bit that he’s doing it without even trying. What did Tim say Jason was good at? Yes…deflection. He does it too. All of her brothers do. They get it from Bruce.
Her voice hardens as she speaks, “I am still older so you’re the little brother. Now, my bargain.”
Jason doesn’t run, but it’s still a close thing. Cass can see that he wants to. Very badly. It’s only his pride that’s keeping him here now. “Fine,” he snaps. “What is it?”
Cass allows a small smile to appear. “I will owe you a favor. Any favor you want, save for killing someone or hurting someone in our family.”
She hears a low whistle from under her brother’s red helmet. He understands how big this is. A favor owed. A debt. It can be anything that Jason could call upon her for, if he accepts. Even with the restrictions, there is still a wide range of possibilities.
“That’s almost anything I can think of,” Jason says slowly. “Not just the standard vigilantism with a light side of burglary either. You must be desperate.”
“I am not,” Cass replies simply. “I want you to come with me willingly. Unconscious is still an option, but is harder on both of us.”
She waits while Jason thinks it over. Her favor is something he wants, that much she is certain of. It is what he has to do to earn it that is tearing him up.
“How long?” he finally asks. “How long do I need to show up at the Manor for?”
Cass grins and walks smoothly over to Jason, making no sound as she does. She holds out her present for him to take. “Two hours. Eggnog and cookies. Maybe a movie.”
Jason fingers the wrapping on the small box as he looks at it, then at her. “I didn’t get ya anything.”
“I know.”
He toys with the wrapping some more before ripping it off. Opening the small box, Jason takes out the slip of paper and reads it. He starts laughing. “An IOU note? Really, sis?”
“Why not?” Cass replies. “Next year I can get you a better gift.” The only things she knows Jason likes are guns, knives, and books. She won’t get him the former and the latter is difficult unless someone helps, which she can’t ask for without giving the whole thing away.
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Cassandra sits curled up in an armchair, her hands wrapped around a warm mug full of hot chocolate. She’d decided eggnog isn’t to her taste after her first glass. That’s okay, Tim was more than happy to finish it for her. Next to her on the edge of the sofa, Bruce sits with his own eggnog and stares in amazement as his four sons battle it out over who’s getting the last of the spice cake Alfred made. Behind her, standing, but not looming, Alfred watches them all, a cup of tea in hand. He’d said he sampled the eggnog during it’s making and didn’t need more.
“How’d you do it, Cass?” Bruce asks quietly. His eyes never leave Jason, who is currently shoving his hand into Damian’s face to push him away from his prize. That’s a risky move as Damian can and will bite, even at thirteen.
“We made a bargain,” she replies, wrapping her free hand in the overly long sleeve of her Christmas sweater. Tim told her the sweater Dick gave her earlier is an ugly sweater (and explains the story behind why ugly Christmas sweaters are a thing), but she doesn’t think it is. The red reindeer on the green sweater is cute.
“Do I want to know what it is?”
Cass shakes her head. “It is between me and Jason. You only have an hour left, Bruce. Enjoy it.”
Jason had announced to Bruce in no uncertain terms when they arrived via the Cave entrance earlier that two hours is all he’s giving him (them). Alfred didn’t waste any time and promptly brought everyone together in the private living room reserved just for family (the one where the family Christmas tree stands with its mismatching ornaments, riotous lights, and one side that has more tinsel than the other). A movie is playing in the background, but no one is paying attention to it. Dick is glued to Jason’s side, trying to get in as much brother time as he can get. Tim and Damian are warier, but so far, no blood has been shed.
But Cass sees all and senses the undercurrent of…what’s the word…bittersweet. Yes. It’s bittersweet because they all know Jason won’t stay for long. Her brothers know better (for now) than to ask what brought him in the first place but she doesn’t miss the glances sent her way.
Damian knocks over a plate of cookies in his battle with Jason over the last piece of cake. That’s apparently the signal they’ve all been waiting for as Dick whoops loudly and picks up Damian, tossing him across the coffee table and onto the other sofa with a laugh.
“Richard!” Damian shouts as he tries to recover, but Jason’s there in a heartbeat, grabbing him by the foot with one hand as he finishes his cake with the other.
“So this is what it’s like to be the big brother,” he muses and raises his arm.
Damian dangles limply for a moment, in absolute shock that someone is doing this to him. But the moment doesn’t last long as he wriggles and lunges for Jason’s legs. “I will end you, Todd!”
But Jason doesn’t miss a beat and drops the teen back onto the sofa. “I need more eggnog,” he announces and walks back to the trolley Alfred wheeled in earlier.
Dick laughs even harder and Tim quietly puts away his phone and winks at Cass. There will be a video of this sent to everyone later.
“Excuse me,” Bruce says and finishes his eggnog with a quick swallow. He rises to join Jason in getting more.
Alfred takes Bruce’s place on the sofa. “Thank you, Miss Cassandra, for the wonderful gift you’ve given us tonight.” His voice is low, almost too quiet to be heard over the din. Dick is trying to get Tim eat more.
“You’re welcome,” she replies, just as softly. “He wants to come home. Just doesn’t know how.”
“I hope this is the start then.”
“Me too.” With that, Cass finishes her hot chocolate and sets the mug aside. Rising, she darts quickly across the room and jumps onto Tim’s back. He staggers at the unexpected weight and almost falls before he grabs her legs and recovers. “Cookies,” is all she says as she rests her chin on his shoulder.
Tim grins brightly at her. “See, Dick? Here’s someone else you can feed. I’m stuffed.”
Cookies in hand, Cass directs Tim to the trolley where she can get something to drink. Jason and Bruce are having a stilted conversation, but Jason starts laughing when he spots them. “Damn, Pretender. When did you grow an extra head?”
“Two heads are better than one,” Tim replies without missing a beat. “This one is thirsty.”
“She’s definitely the better half.” Jason pours a cup of eggnog and hands it to Cass, ignoring the face she makes. “This is all that’s left. Bottom’s up.”
Cass drinks it quickly. Alcohol isn’t something she enjoys and this cup tastes stronger than the last one.
“You don’t like bourbon?” Bruce asks. He is amused by her reaction.
“No,” she replies and hands the cup back to Jason.
He laughs and takes a metal flask out of one of his pockets, shaking it lightly as he holds it up. “It needed some help.”
Bruce nods and doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest.
Tim laughs some more and tries to set Cass down, but she tightens her arms around his neck. “A little help here?” he asks plaintively.  
“Nope.” Jason shakes his head. “I already learned my lesson tonight, I don’t need another one.” His words say one thing, but Cass sees deeper than the surface as his eyes lock on to hers.
Thank you is what he really means.
She grins and mouths the words back to him. Perhaps next year, he’ll be able to say them out loud.
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