#bruz3r

@bruz3r - from dis

"... I gotta remember you guys are always a bag throw away for literally everything." Hardly even a flinch over the sound of something sticking in the roof, or even the footsteps for that matter. A telltale sign that this was clearly not the first time Dr. Abbot was in this situation.

"What the fuck is all this?" Sleipnir held the document up for the other to see, thumbing through it with a shaking hand.

"Have you been...following me?" He didn't like that. His stomach dropped, hands twitching as he threw the folder across the table. "Why would you....why?" The questions failed to come. Just one word on repeat.

it’s  slow  ;  the  way  in  which  every  single  one  of  dick’s  micromovements  slows  to  a  grinding  halt.  he  waits  -  eyes  trained  to  that  unmistakable  canary  yellow  as  it  whips  around  an  adjacent  peak  before  it  finally  slips  fully  from  sight.    dick  works  his  jaw  ;  the  muscles  there    jumping  from  the  sheer  strength  in  which  he’s  currently  grinding  his  teeth.  his  jaw  creaks  from  the  strain  but  still.  he  waits.  —  waits  until  he  knows  without  a  shadow  of  doubt  that  robin’s  well  &  truly  gone.  

“you’re  unbelievable  —  you  think  i’m  being  unhelpful!?”  dick  grits  out;  the  whites  of  his  lenses  flashing  as  the  full  brunt  of  his  attention  snaps  onto  bruce.  he  can’t  stop  the  way  in  which  his  upper  lip  pulls  back  in  a  snarl.  “what  am  i  even  doing  here,  bruce?  do  you  even  know?”  there’s  no  part  of  dick  grayson  that  doesn’t  think  for  one  second  that  @bruz3r wasn’t  aware  that  cass  had  actually  taken  the  time  to  track  him  down  in  blud.  cass  of  all  people.  —  or  the  encrypted  sos  babs  had  discreetly  patched  through  to  his  device  the  night  before,  filling  him  in.  not  to  mention  the  cherry  on  the  cake,  which  was  the  impromptu  appearance  of  tim  in  the  bcpd  looking  worse  for  wear.  they  saw  the  wall  &  instead  of  beating  their  fists  against  it,  they  turned  to  him  for  help.  looking  for  what?  he  wasn’t  sure  –  a  voice  of  reason  in  the  dark?  yeah  right,  as  if  he’d  ever  been  that  for  any  of  them.  as  if  he  had  that  kind  of  rapport  with  bruce  to  begin  with.  

he’d  been  fired.  cut  -  loose.  failed  in  every  spectacular  way  when  it  truly  mattered.  he  had  no  grace  here.  no  sway.  nothing  he  did  or  said  would  matter  in  the  long  run.  their  partnership  had  long  since  died  -  snuffed  out  in  the  wake  of  his  own  misgivings.  he  knew  that.    but  —  it  didn’t  matter  what  bruce  thought  of  him  —  what  he  thought  of  himself.  they  were  his  family,  his  only  family,  &  if  they  were  coming  to  him  then  —  

“i  thought  we  were  past  this,  but  you  —  you  weren’t  even  planning  on  reaching  out,  were  you?”  his  eyes  narrow;  the  anger  scorches  him  from  the  inside  out  as  it  bubbles  up  his  throat.  “you  weren’t.”  

“of  course  you  weren’t.  well,  that’s  not  surprising  —  but  you  know  what  is  surprising.  that  you  still  haven’t  learned.”  he’s  seething  &  not  even  the  distinct  crackle  of  the  communal  comm  coming  alive  can  dissuade  him  now.  he  steps  forward,  jabbing  his  finger  right  into  the  center  of  that  damned  symbol  on  his  adoptive  father’s  chest.  “i’ll  tell  you  why  i’m  here,  because  they  asked  me  to  be.  i  came  for  them  and  i  sure  as  shit  won’t  sit  by  and  watch  as  they  struggle  to  keep  you  and  your  ego  afloat.  you  can  run  yourself  into  the  ground,  put  yourself  at  risk,  but  you  won’t  risk  them.  not  again.”  

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOGAN! || ACCEPTING

He wasn't expecting any of this. Or... Well, anything. He's not even one-hundred-percent sure how Bruce found out, but, hey - that's what he gets for being with the world's greatest detective. He knew what he was getting into. He just didn't see it coming.

It's been a long time since he took a day to really just relax. Even longer since he went to a place like this. Hell, he couldn't remember when it had last happened. Part of that might b e because he's face-down on a massage table and can't really think of much of anything by now. God, he needed this. Yes, he healed from anything, and no, he couldn't ever be in anything less than perfect shape, but it still hurt. And how often had people nagged him for his stress levels? Well, they could all stop whining now. He felt like jell-o.

Freshly made.

A muffled groan leaves him as another series of knots are undone. The only movement he bothers is reaching just enough to twine his fingers with Bruce's, but otherwise, he might as well be in a coma. The best part is, nobody does anything to ruin it. All's quiet on the western front - quiet enough, in fact, he damn near falls asleep in the sauna. He opts against the aromatherapy, but acquiesces to a nail cleaning. Almost makes a crack about getting his claws polished, too, but he doesn't wanna spook these poor girls. They made him understand the hype behind hot stone therapy, and of course Bruce shelled out for one of the ritzy joints that had the good snacks on request. What a man.

He'd thought that was it - and it would've been more than enough - but he was wrong. As the car pulled up back to the manor, the air smelled different. It smelled good. Like meat, and spices, roasted vegetables and sugars and fats- holy shit. The spread that greets him looks just as good as he smells, and it's so much better up close.

"You didn't have to do all this," he tries, but is waved off. Of course he is. The food's already made, and his plate is heaping before too long. He doesn't ask how they remembered his favourites - again, Greatest Detective, and along with him, the World's Greatest Butler. Good l' Al really earned the title with that cake. He gets a solid handshake, the sort a gentleman and fellow vet like him would appreciate. Bruce gets a different thank-you. One that involves closed doors and Logan's mouth against his neck - and anywhere else he wants it.

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe | @bruz3r

"OH MY GOD- I'M- I'M SORRY ! I DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE AND I-" A rush of warmth spreading against the apple of her cheeks, doe cchestnut hues wide and in shock. She can't help but spill apologies like an ongoing waterfall flooding past twin flesh. Being a joke to everyone here is one thing, but now looking like a clumsy fool will only adds to the embarrassment. Joining Vought had been a DREAM OF HERS, ONCE UPON A TIME... now Annie is living a nightmare that just won't come to an end. Everyone she has met so far hasn't been friendly or welcoming. So what else is a lie ? Or, more like, who else was a lie ? Feeling like she needed a getaway is how the young blonde supe got here to begin with. Slipping away and then ending up here- UNDERNEATH A MISTLETOE with one of their guests of honor- Bruce Wayne. He's something of importance when it comes to Vought's VIP list- guess all the top dogs are.

Annie isn't going to lie, as much as she had attempted to avoid eye contact with him before, she would find her eyes wandering towards him from time to time. Bruce Wayne is, well, what everyone tends to MENTION WHEN SPEAKING OF HIM. Handsome- even more so up close. The dusty pink blush coloring her cheeks began to turn to a scarlet red- now spreading down towards her collarbone and her entire face. Burning hot. MENTALLY FANNING HERSELF as Annie tries to collect herself- come on, Annie. Snap out of it. Clearing her throat as she tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, she utters a sorry. Brown irises darting from his lips to the little mistletoe hanging above them- tauting her. ' You won't do it ! ' It teases. God, she's going absolutely insane if she's hearing objects speaking to her. But maybe- part of her... wants to just let loose- live a little !

Something about this just seemed right. Annie's tongue then darts out to wet her lips, drawing in her bottom lip for a split second. Brain just scrambling on what to do- pro and cons listing. " Fuck it.." It's been decided, tossing out any self-respect whatsoever. MAYBE PART OF HER WANTS TO FEEL SOMETHING- alive, and contain this feeling of ugliness. Of being belittled by everyone in Vought. The young blonde can't entirely describe what- but she goes for it. For the kiss. Standing on her tiptoes, using all her strength to grasp at his nicely-pressed suit by his collar, and bruising her lips against his in a heated kiss. Lashes fanning against her cheeks, their lips locking- no care in the world.

A hand loosens only to wrap around his neck, a blessed hum escapes, body pressed firmly against his. But it's like she's in a DISNEY MOVIE- CINDERELLA TO BE SPECIFIC. Her phone rings- and it snaps her out of her bravery- out of this dream. Pulling back just as quick, her mouth agape as Annie tries to find her words. "I-" But before she can explain even further, the sight of Ashley looking for her only made Annie straighten up. "-Shit..." This is her moment to escape. "I'm- I'm sorry I-.. I gotta.... run." Brillant, Annie. You are an idiot. The thoughts aren't helping as she winces at her stupidity. Turning on her heels and tugging at her cape in a hurry to get out of eyesight.