#but if you think jason would get over his INCONVENIENT FEELINGS

[laufire]

also while we're at this jason is far less of an "unreliable" narrator than you always act like he is, you just can't accept the other bats ever fuck up.

#also the other bats are unreliable narrators *regarding jason* #but if you think jason would get over his INCONVENIENT FEELINGS #(trauma and righteous anger) #if ONLY he knew (prioritised) what the other bats suffered (about something that happened to HIM) #that's soooo not a conversation you're ready to have #talking to the void #my thoughts #jason todd #dc #dc comics #dc thoughts #bat clan #fandom nonsense #bitter lau tag

[whoahoney]

hi ml, I’m not sure if you’re taking requests! but I’ve seen a few people request work from you. if not that’s totally fine and I’m sorry for the inconvenience! but I have this imagine in my head😭

eddie x best friend, they get tickets to some rock/metal concert (you pick:)) & she gets insanely jealous when she finds him making out with some chick in the pit, so then she finds a random guy to flirt with in the pit, and it all goes downhill from there, then he finally confronts her abt it & they both sorta confess mid arguement😭 I feel like that’s such an Eddie thing to do. “I love you you stupid ass fucking bitch”💀

You’re so lovely, thank you for this!! 😭 this helped my writers block 💖 I’m a sucker for friends to lovers!

Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Reader

Summary: Eddie and Y/n face difficulties and repressed feelings in the pit of a Judas Priest concert.

Content Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), fem!reader, drug use (they high asf), toxic friends to lovers, language, angst/comfort, reader pushes Eddie around a lot out of anger but nothing wild, PDA in the pit, groping

Part 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie and Y/n had spent the last 3 1/2 hours in the freezing cold, waiting in line for the pit to open at the Judas Priest Concert in Indianapolis. The friends had saved for months to be able to purchase tickets, Priest being apart of the foundation of their friendship.

The two met at the beginning of high school; both outcast for their shared love of a darker aesthetic and louder music, and soon finding solace within one another one rainy day when Jason Carver broke her tape and Eddie happened to notice it was Judas Priest. He quickly offered to give her his own copy, which she happily accepted.

It wasn’t long before the two developed feelings for each other; sneaking glances, hiding the dirtiest thoughts that floated around in their brains when they were alone together in each other’s rooms, not to mention the jealousy they’d feel when seeing the other pay any attention to a member of the opposite sex.

Y/n had gotten used to Eddie’s easy way with words around the girls at the bars in the city they frequented, both of them having their ways to combat the green monster. Eddie had yet to get used to guys offering to buy drinks for his crazy beautiful and dorky best friend and wrap their arms around her front to keep her close to their chests; the way he’d wanted to forever.

Most times they went out resulted in bickering and tension for unknown or unspoken reasons; Eddie getting upset about creepy dudes touching his friend and loudly breaking it up, or Y/n seething in the corner with a whiskey in hand as Eddie leaned closer to some blonde at the bar, only noticing his friends displeasure when she paid her tab and obnoxiously reached into his pants pocket for his keys without a word to him or a glance to the girl he was entertaining.

Of course he’d always go after her, but not without exchanging words.

‘What is your fuckin problem?’

‘Every time we go out you always gotta—‘

‘So you like weird dudes looking at you like that? You think they wanna take you home to mom, really? Think again!’

‘You and sluts, Eddie, what the fuck is up with that?’

‘You could do so much better!’

Always ending with

‘I’m sorry…’

‘I just wanna protect you’

‘You only deserve the best.’

‘I wouldn’t be with anyone that had a problem with our friendship’

‘You’re my best friend’

So the last couple months consisted mostly of the two staying in at their own places, ordering take out, watching movies, and of course smoking and drinking. The evenings they didn’t get together they typically shared a phone call after work, most of the time during dinner.

Y/n would giggle at Eddie’s garbled speech over the phone as he shoveled Chinese noodles into his mouth, ranting about the disappointing ending of his latest novel and listing the ways he could’ve made it better.

Eddie enjoyed hearing Y/n’s stories of her days spent taking classes at the community college, slowly but surely crawling her way to a degree while only doing part time. He enjoyed hearing her spill endlessly about her major, learning from her the more she spoke and reveling in the passionate way she described it all.

They hadn’t been able to hang out in a couple weeks, phone calls coming by more frequently than their physical beings, but this meant the time spent together the day of the concert would be even more fun and special.

Until the cold front moved in.

The two didn’t mind getting closer, playing thumb war as a poor excuse to hold hands. It wasn’t long after that until the doors opened and the two held onto each other tightly, heading through security just fine until they hit the pit.

They bumped and cursed their way through as rogue fans went in hard with elbows. They got about midway before the wiggle room ended, though they were satisfied with their view of the middle of the stage. Eddie looked down at his best friend and smiled fondly at her.

Her eye makeup tonight reminded him of the way she used to do it when they first became friends, thick and dark on the top and bottom lash line, a little smokey on the edges.

She caught his stare and blushed a deep pink before averting her eyes, “What is it? Is my makeup already fucked? Lipstick on my teeth?” She flashed her front teeth as he chuckled and shook his head.

She quickly ran her tongue over her teeth and crinkled her brow in confusion. “Did you take your edible already?” She giggled as they shuffled forward.

“Pfft, no.” He lied.

Y/n rolled her eyes, knowingly.

“If we’re playing that game, I didn’t either.” She stuck out her blue tinted tongue from the gummies they shared. Eddie chuckled and stuck his own out, the matching blue patch sitting in the middle of his tongue.

Y/n shivered at the thought of his mouth tasting the exact same as hers did at this moment. She saw the couples surrounding them, guys holding their girls to their sides or fronts protectively, the way she wanted to be held by Eddie so badly. There was a couple times the instances occurred though it was always after drinks and under jealous pretenses.

It wasn’t real.

Eddie was just protective. Maybe a little territorial. But Y/n didn’t mind it. If anything she wished he would indulge in it more.

By the time the show started, the lights began flashing brilliant purple, blue, and yellow, the crowd was roaring so loud the space between Eddie and Y/n was quiet enough to speak.

“C’mon, follow me, we’ll get closer.” He nodded, spotting a way through a couple gaps. He stepped quickly without grabbing her hand properly—used to her being hot on his heels, when suddenly a girl cut her off midway, following Eddie through the gaps and disappearing as the crowd closed in.

“Eddie! Eddie Munson!” She called, jumping up to try to spot the usually easy to find mop of curls, but lamented when she realized there were a million of them now. She went the way she last saw him go, calling for him the whole way and searching for him in a sea of people who held no interest in her personal space or search for her friend.

“Eddie Munson, you fucking bastard!” She cursed, ducking through wandering hands and bitchy looks while their favorite songs played. She felt tears prickling at her eyes as her limbs became heavy from swimming against the current and groaned when she reached a dead end without finding him.

She leaned against the railing for a breather, a stray tear escaping before she gathered her bearings and decided to continue in a new direction. With a breath she turned to look at the stage and spotted the Dio backed vest just a few feet ahead.

Her heart soared, a laugh of relief coming from her as she took a step towards him, when suddenly a woman’s leg wrapped around his side. Y/n now noticed the fingers tangled in his hair as he stumbled backwards towards the railing. The blonde from before attached to his mouth like a sucker fish, though he seemed to be enjoying it.

Y/n stood gaping and cemented as Beyond the Realms of Death played, the song she had hoped to hear the most. She saw the way her fingers curled around his arm, how his roamed down her back and pulled her closer by her leg. Her chest ached when she saw him practically melt against the girl, his rings digging into her bare flesh.

Y/n choked out a sob when the girl moved to his neck, probably sucking a hickey at the crook of it where Y/n had rested her head many times. Eddie cracked his eyes open as he sighed blissfully, meeting her broken gaze as her makeup ran and ran and ran.

His eyes widened, dropping the girls leg from his waist and taking a step towards his friend. “Y/n!” He called as her eyes turned from hurt to pain and then anger within a second. She marched forward, the blonde’s confusion going unnoticed by Eddie as he took bounding steps away.

“Y/n—“His words were silenced with a shove to his chest and a mighty grunt from his friend, directing him into the pit where she originally wanted to be.

“Fuck you!” She spat on her way past him. He caught her arm and spun to her to face him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose you! Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah, you looked so concerned with your tongue down that bitch’s throat. Save it.” She shrugged away from him.

“Is that what this is about? Oh, come ON. What is your problem? We’re friends, right? Friends help friends get laid, why can’t you just be my friend? Why can’t you let me have anyone?” He cried.

Y/n’s eyes widened as the fucks fled her body, biting back an unhinged smile stretching on her face at his words. To be fair, she probably looked horrifying, but inside of her a switch had flipped and she suddenly felt eerily calm.

“Y’know what, Ed? Don’t worry about me. Have a good fucking show.” She said with a seemingly earnest smile on her face as she wiped the last falling tears and mascara streaks from her cheeks. Before Eddie could manage a response she turned on her heel and made her way deeper into the crowd, tuning into the noise and choosing to deal with her crumbling heart later.

Eddie followed after her, watching the top of her head swerve through the crowd for almost a whole song until he realized the person he’d spotted wasn’t even her to begin with. Worry began to set in as soon as his edible did. “Y/n?” He called, turning in circles as people chastised his tall figure for obstructing the view.

Before he could finish calling her name again, he heard her giggle. He turned, almost sighing in relief at the thought of her just trying to mess with him by playing a short lived game of hide and seek, when he spotted her under the arm of some punk with a head of fiery curls, the two practically touching noses as they sang Love Bites to one another, making daring little touches against one another’s face and hands.

Eddie seethed as the guys arm slipped from her shoulder to her ass, using his other index finger to tilt her chin to meet his lips. Eddie grabbed her hand that was poised to cup the guy’s cheek right before their lips could meet, and jerked her away and into him, barreling towards the back of the pit and ready to leave.

He could hear her shouts of protest though he wasn’t met with any resistance from her as he guided her through the crowd. He led her out of the arena and into the deserted hallway, the roar of the crowd and the muffled wailing of the guitar sounded through the stone walls.

Eddies face was hard with anger, his jaw clenched tightly as he ran a hand down his face. Y/n finally ripped her wrist away and shoved Eddie again, his back hitting the wall—a stifled groan rippled from his chest as he did.

“You’re such a goddamn hypocrite, you know that?” She barked. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Who’s the real hypocrite here? I can’t have the same reaction you did? You just had to try to—“

“You call that the same reaction? I didn’t even kiss the guy and you made us leave the entire concert but you were almost swallowed by a human goldfish and I can’t be a little upset?” She cried, her eyes betraying her anger by glossing over.

Eddie swallowed thickly. “We were just talking, and-and the crowd made us get really close—She grabbed me, I just didn’t—“

“I don’t care to hear about it.” She dead panned, wiping her face and turning to either walk back into the concert or leave the place entirely, she hadn’t decided.

“Oh my god, yes you fucking do!” He cried, hot tears prickling behind his eyes as his throat closed up, the sight of her walking away from him unbearable.

She spotted the exit at the end of the hall and turned to yell to him. “Yeah, I do, Eddie, just not the way you do!” She shoved through the door carelessly marching into the freezing cold.

She ended up in an ally, a couple dumpsters on either side. Y/n groaned and turned in worried circles as she tried to fight the choking sobs that threatened to escape her. Streams of hot tears poured from her eyes as she crouched down by the trash and pressed her fists into her forehead to relieve the pressure of the heartbreak beating into her head as she heaved.

Suddenly the door shoved open and Eddie stomped out, ready to go down swinging if she fought riding home with him, when his face softened at her broken form on the ground in front of him. She peaked up at him, shooting him a glare right before he yanked her up and pushed her against the wall this time.

“Eddie—“

“No. My turn.” He almost spat, the breath of his words hitting her mouth and nose as he spoke. His hands planted on either side of her head as he caged her in. “I have spent so long trying to show you. Trying to get you to decide—that maybe if we did our own things it’d help. I’m—Every time, Y/n. Every time someone shows interest in me, the first thing I do is compare them to you—to my best friend. My… my perfect best friend.” His voice weakened.

“For a while it felt like-like you were just trying to protect me, like you felt I could do better, but now it’s like you just don’t want anyone to have me, and—and I just can’t understand why??” His voice cracked. “Every time I think we’re going somewhere I hit dead ends and I’m okay with being friends, I’d die before giving that up, but if we’re only friends you can’t—“

“What??” Is all she managed. “What do you-what do you mean—Eddie, you’ve practically kept me at an arms length since you started dating people! But lately, it’s like—ugh!” She exclaimed in exasperation. “It’s felt like maybe you might see me differently—but then you just jump on the first chance you get. At our concert?” She hiccuped and looked to the ground when her vision became too blurry.

“Sweetheart…” He cooed.

“Stop it! I do wanna be friends but it hurts every time we—“

“I love you, you stupid fucking bitch!” He took her face in his hands and spoke over her loudly, gently shaking her with urgency.

Y/n’s eyes widened, a soft gasp leaving her at the confession. Her throat closed a as her brain short circuited, her tears spilling down her cheeks. “I—wha—“

He scoffed and crashed his lips against hers, mouthing at her stunned lips until they melted and moved against him. She let out a whine of relief, perhaps all the years of longing pouring out of her when he opened the floodgates.

She leaned back against the wall, his hands cradling her jaw while his fingers wrap around the nape of her neck, gently clenching the roots of her hair.

Her hands started the same, quickly moving down his neck and roaming his chest. His breath caught noticeably when she wrapped her arms around his torso and pulled him flush against her, raking her nails down his back gently and pulling a sigh from him.

They finally pulled away, though Y/n pressed her head into the side of his neck, the opposite side of where the blonde had spent her time. The two sat in silence, holding one another and trying to form whole sentences and figure out where to go next.

“I love you too… I always have..” She whispered, not missing the sharp inhale of surprise he drew in. “You stupid fucking asshole.” She giggled before pressing a long open mouthed kiss to the side of his neck. Eddies eyes rolled back in his head when she began sucking softly.

He was ripped from his trance when she shoved him away towards the door, grabbing his hand on her way past in his dazed state and tugging him back inside. “But we’ve waited too long for Judas fucking Priest to miss it just for you to fuck me behind a dumpster.” Eddie cackled madly and ran after her.

Part 2

-

-

Taglist 🤍

@loving-and-dreaming

#eddie munson requests #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #answered asks #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 23

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22

Part 23!

***

Jason knows he should probably still be wary, not knowing much about ghosts - let alone ghost royalty, whatever that means - but he can’t help but feel safe.

He’s felt an overwhelming sense of safe ever since Danny tackled him, but he’d been fighting it the whole time, worrying about falling for some kind of trap.

And okay, maybe it should have taken more than two feet of personal space with a portal and a conversation that painted Danny as more air-headed than malicious but could have been faked. But…Jason wants to extend his trust.

And for the first time in years he can. No Pit lingering in the background to ruin everything at the most inconvenient possible time.

He wants to put his trust in Danny, and he wants that to be the right choice.

He thinks it will.

Danny isn’t a fae; there are no ‘rules of hospitality’ binding him, to Jason’s knowledge, meaning the room and the food - sketchy as it was - and the introductions and explanations were just…him being polite.

Because he wanted to be.

The snowball fights and flight lessons and tours weren’t just part of some malicious plot to get him to let his guard down; they were genuine attempts to help him feel more comfortable or to cheer him up.

So yeah, Jason could give him a chance to explain.

Starting with-

“So what was with the syringe?” he asks as they sit, skeletons floating up dutifully to serve their food.

“Syringe?” Danny blinks owlishly as he settles into his chair after a moment’s pause to stare at the scorch marks - Sam and Tucker taking their place where Jazz and Spike had sat before.

“Back at the Far Frozen, when I was hesitant about the food…” he offers.

“Oh!” Danny smiles,“You mean the ecto-dejecto? It’s basically just fast food for ghosts - and halfas!” He hurries to add, as if Jason knows what that means.

They’ll come back to that.

“Ah, so it wasn’t a threat to eat the food or else,” Jason hms.

Danny’s shoulders droop.

“No, it wasn’t. It was just…another option. You could have chosen neither - relying on ambient ectoplasm would have slowed your recovery but I would have respected your choice. I’m sorry for not being more clear.” He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Ancients, I’m surprised you didn’t just blast me with the bazooka.”

“I still didn’t - and don’t - know how to leave on my own yet,” Jason shrugs.

“That’s… fair,” Danny concludes, wincing.

“Give me another day and I’ll have your portal gun ready,” Tucker says, holding out his wrist to show a sleek black and gold watch. “It’ll be just like mine - works based on coordinates, with separate systems for the Zone and the Living World plus the option to save frequent locations under a quick-click menu.”

Jason watches attentively as he presses a button as he speaks, causing what looks like a smaller, better-painted-job-having version of the Wrist Rays’ barrel with a small holoscreen over top of it to pop out of the unassuming watch.

When he tilts his wrist, Jason can see the bar to enter coordinates at the top and his top two frequent locations - ‘The Phantom Palace’ and ‘Technoland’ - just beneath it.

Swiping left leaves the coordinate bar, but replaces the locations list with ‘Grave’ and ‘Monument.’

He clicks one and it shoots open a portal just behind Danny. When he clicks it again the beam zips it closed.

“I can give you a different paint-job or display style,” he offers, showing him how to open the keyboard and scroll before closing it all down and slipping it off of his wrist. “Until then, you can use mine.”

He smiles, holding the portal ‘gun’ watch out to him.

He looks at the watch, then from Tucker to Sam to Danny.

They all smile and nod encouragingly.

He takes it and carefully slips it over his left wrist - opposite the ‘Ray - and it shrinks to fit him just as the Ray had.

He smiles, nerves far more settled now that he can leave whenever he wants.

Realizes he really isn’t trapped here.

They were telling the truth.

(He’s safe)

He still has a million questions he needs answered, but he should probably let his family - and the JL - know he’s okay sooner rather than later.

Bruce - everyone, really - will demand a full debrief if he goes in person. He doesn’t have enough answers for that just yet.

Luckily, they have codes for just such a situation.

“Anyone have paper and pen?”

Sam whips a void-black A4 sheet of paper out of nowhere, and Danny does the same with a snow-white pen.

He snorts a laugh at the swapped colors and scribbles out a quick explanation followed by the codes to verify that he’s not under duress, being controlled, etc.

Then he folds it up, opens a portal just over the batcomputer’s keyboard - sticking his face through briefly to verify he got the right place - and drops it through.

The usual gnawing curiosity can replace their panic and Jason can take his time getting answers.

“So. ‘Ecto-dejecto’ and the air in here are the same as the food? Which is all made of ‘ectoplasm’ which is…what?”

“It's probably most accurate to compare it to carbon,” Sam answers. “Most Living, organic matter - plants and animals both - is carbon-based - at least on Earth - whereas most entities in the Zone are ecto-based. Except it’s more ‘ecto-everything.’”

“Yeah,” Danny continues, “The, ah, ‘air’ is just a lot less concentrated than food - while Ecto-dejecto is more concentrated and is generally only used when we’re in a hurry or heavily injured. We don’t really ‘eat’ ectoplasm in the same way a human eats food, it’s more like, ah, batteries?”

“Batteries.” he deadpans, Sam and Tucker poorly smothering their grins in their drinks.

“Like if batteries had mouths,” Danny tries. “They don’t really need the electricity anywhere specific as long as they, y’know, charge? Kind of.”

“So I’m half a battery.”

Tucker loses the fight against his laughter at that.

Danny smiles briefly, but his face quickly sobers.

“No,” he takes a breath. “What I said earlier is true; you are no more dead now than you were when I found you. But when I found you, you were already what is known as halfa - half a human, and half a ghost.”

Jason’s face steels, anger rising.

“So I am dead.”

“Only half,” Danny smiles grimly.

“You can't be half dead! And if I’m so unchanged then why do I look like this!” He snaps, standing from his chair to gesture at himself. “Because I sure as shit didn’t look like a walking reminder of the worst day of my life before!”

“You can be half dead, I'm half-dead. And you were already a halfa when I found you,” Danny starts, voice empathetic as he floats out of his chair to lay a tentative hand on Jason’s shoulder, “But you were unwell. Your core was barely formed, and it’s a miracle you were still alive at all. It’s a miracle you made it to Frostbite.”

Jason sits and crosses his arms, hearing him out but hating every second of it.

(I can’t be dead)

“You must have an incredible amount of will to have kept yourself in one piece for as long as you did,” Danny commends, following Jason’s lead and sitting back down, “but if you’d remained as you were for much longer your still-forming core would have eventually cannibalized itself in an effort to finish forming, causing a collapse that would have not only killed you all the way, but would have erased you from existence entirely, nothing left but memories.”

“Entering the Ghost Zone gave your core the resources it needed, but all of the tainted ectoplasm you’d managed to absorb slowed things down. Thus all the mornings spent in the tube to filter it out. Like blood transfusions. Except it's more like food instead of blood….”

Danny trails off squinting into the distance.

“Great,” Jason says, regaining his attention. “That still doesn’t explain why I look like this - or what a core even is other than ‘dangerous if poorly formed.’”

“Oh, boy. Okay. A core is the only organ a ghost has,” Danny explains. “Like a brain and heart and liver all in one. Even if you were reduced to nothing but your core, you’d still be perfectly fine - more vulnerable, sure, but that doesn’t matter as long as you’re with any ghost that doesn’t actively want to end you permanently. As a halfa, you have both a human and a ghost form.”

Danny shifts into his own human form at this.

“But ghosts don’t form until after their cores do, so until you were healed enough you couldn’t access your ghost form. Staying in ghost form allows you to absorb ambient ectoplasm and ectoenergy more efficiently…wait.”

His eyes widen as he looks into Jason’s own shocked face.

“Did- do you- Ancients you don’t know how to transform back into a human do you?”

“I do not and would very much like to,” Jason stresses, unbelieving at the whole half-dead thing but just barely willing to hope.

“Okay. Okay. As a halfa you have both a ghost form and a human form - like two sides of a coin. Both are you, but when you’re in one, the other is in a sort of personal pocket dimension. You can swap between them by sort of…reaching for what you want. For example, I have an ice core,” His eyes glow a brighter blue.

“And my core - as most cores are - is located in roughly the same area as my heart. So when I’m in human form, I reach for the spot of cold just metaphorically ‘behind’ my heart-” he transforms back into Phantom “-and pull it to the surface.”

“When I want to swap back into human form, I reach for the warmth of my heart just ‘behind’ my core.”

Jason tries to focus on his chest, but he’s mostly just confused.

He looks up to find a hand offered to him.

“Here, I can trigger your transformation the first few times.”

Jason takes his hand eagerly.

“We’ll do three swaps - human, ghost, human - then you can try it for yourself. For now, just focus on how it feels.”

Rings of light appear around both of their waists this time, Jason is grateful for the large chairs as he suddenly takes up a lot more space than he had.

(He’s alive)

He only has a moment to take in how much smaller everything looks and how cold Danny’s once luke-warm hands feel before the lights are sweeping over them again.

The rings sweep up and down like the light of a photocopier, but he can’t help but notice it doesn’t feel that way.

It feels like a cool gust of wind blooming from a single point in his chest, swirling out until it permeates to the very last layer of his skin.

(He’s dead)

He’d expected discomfort from the cold of the description, but it’s all soothing breeze on a warm, sunny day instead of the arctic winds in winter he’d worried it might be.

Small again. It’s almost comfortable, if not for the sour memories every time he sees his reflection in this form.

And then they’re switching again - he pays even more attention this time, less distracted by the unfamiliar lightshow and determined to learn how to be human on his own.

It’s the feeling of lying in a sunbeam in spring, all warmth and comfort.

(His heart still beats)

It was comfortable, going from ghost to human and going from human to ghost.

(His heart hasn’t beaten in over a week)

It didn’t hurt.

(He’s… both?)

Everything had hurt so much the first time he died. The first time he came back.

It didn’t hurt.

(It doesn’t hurt)

His mask hides the few tears that escape.

He shakes his head and takes stock of his body; he feels different.

He doesn’t feel bad - his body is the same overall - fingers and toes all still move, no missing legs or eyes, etc etc.

No glowing.

Except his arm - which had had another 2 weeks to finish recovering from a break - didn’t hurt at all. He couldn’t feel any of the lesser scuffs and bruises one generally got from tumbling around Gotham as a vigilante/crime lord at night.

He barely registers Sam and Tuckers staring until Sam turns to Danny and says “You thought he was shy.”

Danny throws his hands into the air. “Just because he’s tall doesn’t mean he’s not shy! And he’s from Gotham! You’ve heard what it’s like! I don’t know what happened to him! I try not to judge!”

“Dude,” Tucker starts, “Danny. My moon and stars. My battery babe.”

“B-battery-”

He points to Jason, ignoring Danny’s sputtering protest.

“He is literally Red Hood. The Crime Lord.”

“Moving back towards vigilante, actually,” Jason says absently, checking his weapons - guns blessedly all there and in one piece. And comms are completely non-functional.

“Of course our son would be a vigilante,” Sam snorts, shaking her head with a smile.

“Only if he wants to be,” Danny adds.

“A vigilante?” Tucker asks.

“Our son.”

“Well, both are optional honestly,” Sam adds.

Jason realizes what’s missing: the portal watch.

He reaches for the cold spot in his chest - so much easier to find now that he knows what to look for - and pulls.

It takes a few tries, but eventually the rings - white, he notices, with a tinge of green around the edges where Danny’s had been blue - are sweeping over him again.

He’s left tiny, with only the wrist ray and the grappling hook and brace of batarangs he’d nabbed from the cave, but none of the guns. He enjoys being armed in both forms, so he leaves the weapons and tugs the watch off to set on the table, then spends twice as long scrabbling for his human form, nerves getting in the way of his focus.

The portal watch is still on the table when he’s back to big, beating heart, and fully armed.

He gently pulls the device onto his now much larger wrist, smiling as it flexes once again to a perfect fit.

As a ghost he can fly, and as a human he can portal.

Weapons and escape options for both forms.

He frowns when he realizes he can’t eat with his mask on.

Just because they know his name is Jason doesn’t mean they know which Jason - he shifts back into his ghost form just as he’s thinking about it.

It’s a bit startling, given he hadn’t done it on purpose - even if he’d been just about to - but he ignores that in favor of hastily taking a bite of his glowing salad before addressing the…adoption thing.

“So,” he starts, “Ellie mentioned…being my ‘sister.’ And this is the third time I’m hearing adoption-adjacent stuff…. I feel the need to remind you that despite my small ghost form, I’m 23. And a crime lord.”

Jason wasn’t a fan of the look they shared.

“You might be 23 in human years, but you’re barely a week old as a ghost,” Sam says, pointing at him with her fork. “For which, only the time from core formation actually counts.”

“The basis of ghost culture is combat,” Danny continues. “Ghosts are pretty much as dead as they get - it takes real, significant effort to destroy a mature core - so throwing hands kind of became a way to say hello.”

“But a formed core and a mature core are two different things,” Tucker picks up. “A core might fully form in as little as a few seconds, but it will take anywhere from years to decades to mature. Until then your core will be less durable than a mature one - not much, but enough to be worrying. It’s a bad combo with ‘still acquiring basic powers’ - especially considering mature ghosts tend to have a lot of powers at their disposal.”

“Ghosts with immature cores are called ‘baby ghosts.’ Which is what you are.” Danny adds, damningly. “Picking adult ghosts to stick close to will help your core mature faster and keep you safe from the less-kind ghosts in the meantime. Even the most independent baby ghosts tend to stick with an adult ghost until they’ve at least mastered flight, invisibility, intangibility, and ecto-blasts. As more emotional beings, ghosts also tend to get attached to each other quickly and jump into the ‘we’re family now’ thing.”

“Plus even if you weren’t a baby ghost you could still be dibsed as family,” Sam concludes.

“‘Dibsed’” Jason repeats blankly, choosing to reply to the least embarrassing part of all that.

“That’s the best way I can think of to describe it,” Sam shrugs. “Sometimes ghosts just go ‘welp that’s my kid/parent/cousin/sibling/whatever now’ and roll with it. Danny has, like, 10 ghost-parents - and only two of them are his actual parents.”

“But,” Danny adds, “There’s no pressure to feel the same. You don’t have to see us as your parents or even your friends. If you want to find different ghost parents, we can help you with that. Or if you just want to return to Gotham and be left alone, we can figure something out - send you ecto-dejecto to help with growth or mark safe parts of the Zone for you to portal to in your free time. Plus there’s an emergency button built into the phone - just click the back button five times - if any other ghosts try to bother you-”

“We can also trick you out with all the weapons you could ever need - or want - to make up the difference in powers-growth,” Sam interjects, speaking Jason’s language.

“-Whatever your choice,” Danny continues, “just know that you can always return here - whether you have questions about being a halfa, need help controlling your powers, you need somewhere safe to crash, or just because you want to be here.”

And that’s…a lot.

A lot of emotions.

A lot of answers.

Another dozen questions he wants to ask (such as ‘what other powers am I supposed to expect?’ and ‘Will they show up as randomly - and worryingly - as flight had?’ and ‘hey, I just turned back into ghost mode suddenly, how do I not do that when I’m out in civvies.’ And also ‘what the fresh ~fuck~ was pit rage, then?)

The day is nearly over, his family knows he’s safe by now - there’s almost always someone using the batcomputer (albeit mostly Tim and Barb) - and Jason no longer has any major qualms about crashing here for an extra night.

He doesn’t know how to feel about the whole…adoption thing.

(And it’s harder, now, to ignore the feeling of warmth)

(The feeling of home and welcome in this place he now knows is a set of open arms rather than a gilded cage)

(Now that he knows he is welcome to come and go as he pleases, that there was never any true possessiveness to it despite it starting out as a kidnapping)

(And his core aches to say “Yes. Family. Mine.”)

(Home. Safety.)

(But he has a family)

(He wants his human family too)

But he could always do with more allies.

He looks at Danny, grins, and asks “So about that Bazooka…”

***

🎉Happy New Year!🎉

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

#dpxdc #danny phantom #jason todd #sam manson #tucker foley #angst #the whole being dead thing #but only half #tfw ur son is a vigilante-turned-crime-boss-turning-vigilante-again #ghost lore #ghost families #ghost cores #jason loves guns #bribing jason with weapons (accidentally #phantoms - like fentons - just really love weapons)

[eddieexcellence]

SOUR CANDY

part v: accomplice or hostage

E. Munson x fem!reader

Synopsis: back in Hawkins for spring break, the reader is back from college. She gets sucked into the madness again for the fourth time with her best friend and younger friends. Plus an unexpected and unwelcome face.

Type: fixit fic, angst/comfort, enemies to lovers trope

Warnings: anxiety attacks, cursing, let me know if I miss anything??

Words: 3k

Author's note: sorry for the delay!! It’s been a busy month for me, and I haven’t had much time to myself!! I hope you guys enjoy!! I’m not too confident about this part, feels kinda cut off but I didn’t want to keep you guys waiting, but the next part has more of this scene?? Like I said in my last update, I’ve been working on the other parts as well!! Hopefully you guys like!!

You were fidgeting with your fingers sitting next to Eddie as he anxiously kept glancing out the window at whoever. The sun was now almost set and it was dark in the boathouse.

“Please tell me who’s looking for you right now!” You pleaded. He still hadn’t told you who his angry mob was, it had to be at least over an hour since they first arrived.

“It’s the assholes you and Harrington would associate with.” Eddie still kept his eyes out the window, making sure you two would be safe.

He was mad you were here, and had been dragged into this. Of all the times he could’ve been inconveniently stuck with you— it was now. You seemed to always be there to press the salt into his wounds, you always made sure of it even if it wasn’t the best time. His sanity was hating it. He wished you two had not taken so long bickering while taking a nostalgic break. If you hadn’t you wouldn't be in this mess, and it would just be him. He wouldn’t feel your shoulder pressed up to his, and your warmth radiating through his leather jacket. The smell of your shampoo and perfume wouldn’t be invading his senses causing him to involuntarily take deep breaths as if the scent was anchoring him, a much more pleasant smell than the stale stagnant fishy odor of the boathouse. Jason Carver and his cronies were only a mere 100 feet from you with crowbars and who knows what, out to get him, and he was too busy paying attention to the notes of your perfume and the pressure of your arm against his to almost not notice the danger.

You on the other hand were trying to think of a plan. “Maybe I can talk to them, distract them? My cars down the road I have weapons, another walkie, I’m sure there’s a blanket in the trunk as well. You can hide until I can get back?” You brainstormed out loud, trying to remain positive.

Not wishing Eddie any ill will, also how would you bug him and pick on him if he was beaten to death or in jail? You were the charismatic babysitter, you managed to weasel into Eddie’s trailer, and get you and your friends out of tons of messes before with your cute smile and bat of your lashes; what was so different about this? Maybe you could avert their attention from their manhunt and get Eddie out of the boathouse to your car til you were able to leave inconspicuously? Sounded thorough enough.

Eddie looked over at you, “first off, Babysitter has illegal weapons in her car? How the hell do you get any gigs?”

An annoyed look crossed your features as you rubbed your temples. “Key word illegal, Munson. Second off add secret in there. So when you get out of here keep it that way.”

He then had a grim expression, a frown setting on his full lips. “I hate to break it to you Princess, when they realize you’re protecting me you’re going to be exiled to the island of misfit toys too.” He quickly looked back up through the window before ducking down again. “Or maybe they’ll be convinced you're my next victim. First the cheerleader, then the journalism nerd, next the goody two shoes babysitter?”

You stilled, though sarcastic he had a point. Either way, you with him didn't look good for you or him. You were now an accomplice or hostage, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my god,” you breathlessly said in between nervous laughter. That was the funniest thing you heard all day. “Oh my god.” You repeated laughing louder, Eddie looked at you like you lost your mind, his frown now a scowl.

Eddie rolled his eyes, clicking on the walkie talkie in his hand. “Dustin, please? Are you there?” He looked beside him at you, silencing your nervous giggles. “Your babysitter, it’s broken.” He added with a sigh.

As you calmed down, you realized how much trouble you two were in. How you were stuck with a man that annoyed the daylights out of you, while being hunted by people you never wanted to associate yourself with after high school. Whenever you were out of this mess, you never wanted to be in this close of proximity to Eddie ever again.

You grabbed the walkie out of Eddie’s grasp. “I swear to everything, we are screwed! So screwed and I’m stuck here! With Munson, that in itself is fucked up! We need help!” You were frantic as you quietly shouted into the walkie.

Eddie then swatted your arm lightly holding his finger to his lip before grabbing the walkie from you.

“Uhm, never mind.” He said into the machine before setting it aside. Shouting could be heard from outside, you and Eddie looked at each other both of your eyes wide. He glanced at the boat. “Let’s go,” he said, walking over and starting to untie the small vessel.

“What the hell are we doing?!” You whisper shouted. He held out his hand, motioning to step inside the boat.

“The one thing I do best, run.” His tone wavered, and he sounded defeated. It’s all he’s been able to do so far, run away from the problem. If you were by yourself and knew nothing you would’ve as well. You hesitatingly walked towards him and the row boat. “If we stay low and get far out enough maybe they won’t notice?”

You gulped and nodded, what did you have to lose at this point? You took his rough calloused hand that seemed to swallow yours in size, both of your palms clammy as you climbed over and took a seat. He got in, pushing the boat out so you two could start rowing.

“Keep your head down,” he instructed as you two got out of the boathouse. Rowing in sync as fast as you could as you two went out into the middle of the lake under the pale moonlight.

“First running, now rowing. Who knew I’d need to do so much athletic activity out of high school?” You quietly mumbled mainly to yourself, but the man with the dark curly long hair next to you that kept blowing in your face, snorted.

“Yeah, as much as I enjoyed your cheerleader phase, my personal favorite is when you tried out for volleyball.” Eddie chortled remembering your valiant efforts at being athletic to fit in with Steve and your jock friends. You paused rowing for a minute. Eddie looked at you, “what are you doing?”

“You paid attention to all of that?” You asked in awe.

“Uh yeah, seeing you make a fool of yourself was the highlight of my days when I was selling to all the jocks under the bleachers.” He said it like it was obvious. Though watching you bounce around in the cheerleading uniform was a sight to see. Not to mention seeing you take a couple volleyballs to the noggin in the not so modest uniform was quite amusing. You weren't the most poised or graced girl on the team, you were one of the cutest he would give you that. He wouldn’t say that out loud. He’d take those thoughts to the grave before ever letting anyone hear thar.

“Can we get back to rowing now?” He started rowing himself.

You shook off the hurt you felt, of course it was for that reason, and nothing else. You didn’t know what else you expected. Definitely not him watching you because he might’ve missed you or to feel any other way than spite or happiness to watch you make a fool of yourself.

“Hey freak!” Someone yelled from the shore. “Where do you think you’re going?” You turned to see Jason Carver, and another one of his cronies behind him. “Holy shit, are you getting ready to sacrifice someone else?!” He yelled from the shore starting to strip out of his suit.

“Shit,” Eddie got up, trying to start the motor of the small row boat. “C’mon you piece of shit!” He got frustrated. You tried to keep rowing going back and forth between each side. The engine would sputter but not turn over. “C’mon you gotta help me out here, man!” He told it. He tried a couple more times with profanities cursing at it. “Nope? All right. Okay.” Before he grabbed his oar and helped you row.

“Maybe if you talked to it more nicely.” You jeered at him.

Even when his angry mob swam to get to him, you had to make a comment. “Whose side are you on, Y/l/n?” He yelled, his nostrils flared slightly. Maybe now wasn’t a time for your comment as you saw he was actually furious.

“Sorry,” you squeaked out and focused on rowing. Jason was already catching up to you two. You saw Eddie’s watch glow in the darkness; 9:23pm. How long have you been stuck with him? It definitely didn’t feel like it was that long, but you had spent a good majority of the late afternoon and now night with Eddie.

“Is that goody two shoes, Y/l/n?” Jason’s cronie asked him. Goody two shoes, you wanted to scoff at that.

“I think it is!” Jason shouted back as he swam faster to you two. He got near the boat and the man next to you jumped up holding his oar up.

“Hey, stay back man! Stay back!” He was swinging the wood around at Jason as he got closer.

“Don’t hurt her!” Jason yelled at Eddie. He looked back at his friend who had stopped and was wading in the water. “What are you doing? We almost have him!” He turned around and saw the boy just floating there. “Hey Patrick! Patrick?”

The boy named Patrick continued to wade in his spot before out of nowhere he went below the surface. Jason called for him again. You had shot Eddie a wary glance, and he gave you the same look. You didn’t know what the hell was going on.

After a few seconds the water erupted and Patrick came flying out into the sky. Eddie jumped startled, falling out of the boat. You didn’t flinch. All you could do was look at the airborne body. Patrick’s head was tilted upwards, arms and legs sprawled out.

You heard Eddie emerge out of the water gasping for air, but your eyes were still glued to Patrick’s lifeless body as you could hear it start to bend and break. You were mortified, unable to take your eyes off of him as you started to see his body follow the sounds. You felt someone grab your hand and pull you over into the water before you could actually see anything too mortifying. You screamed but a hand covered your mouth and you were pulled into a chest. You could feel the cold rings of Eddie’s against your lips as he kept your back turned away from Patrick, your hand holding on to the side of the boat to stay afloat. All you could hear were the bones breaking, and yours and Eddie’s out of breath panting. You closed your eyes tightly as if that would help from preventing the sound of bones breaking from entering your ears. Then it stopped and all was heard was Patrick’s body falling into the water.

“Y/n we gotta go.” Eddie whispered gently in your ear. “I’m gonna let you go now.” He told you as he removed his hand from your mouth and his arm from your waist. You floated there soaking wet, eyes staring at the other side of the shore. He hoisted himself into the boat, extending his hand. You grabbed it, letting him pull you into the boat and took a seat beside him. Eddie started rowing for the both of you, letting you just sit there for a moment.

The both of you were silent just processing what had happened. You had none of your things, no idea what you would do when you reached the shore. Jason now knew it was you with Eddie, whether you were going to be called an accomplice or Eddie’s next victim was up to him. Nonetheless you were going to be a part of the manhunt for Eddie. The sound of breaking bones had seared into your memory. No doubt the nightmares would come back. Like they had when you first saw a demogorgon, then when you watched the Mind Flayer leave poor Will’s body, and when you were almost killed by it in Starcourt Mall. Eddie Your thoughts just kept running and overthinking.

You could feel your chest tighten, and you start to breathe erratically. You had gripped onto your chest as you hyperventilated. Eddie looked over at you concerned.

“What’s going on?” He tried to ask, but you couldn’t respond just grasping onto your chest more, shaking your head. “Shit,” he stopped for a moment. He remembered when you two were friends, he’d found you a couple times like this at your locker or at a picnic table after school when you’d dread going home, because you knew your parents would be fighting or yelling at you. He tried to remember what he’d do to help you.

You were trying to do your usual 5,4,3,2,1 method in your head, but in the darkness with only the moon lighting the lake it was difficult to look at your surroundings. All you could really see was the dim features of Eddie. His skin practically glowing because he was so pale, you could see the frizz of his hair that was weirdly enough a halo around his head, his silver ring clad hands grabbing an oar to continue rowing you both to safety, and the look of concern in his dark eyes.

You smell the lake water, the dingy musty smell of the boat, mixing with the faint smell of your perfume, and Eddie’s natural scent with the note of the cheap cologne etched into his leather jacket.

You could hear sirens in the distance approaching, the sound of frogs croaking in the cattails at the shore, and the faint singing from Eddie?

Eddie always had his Walkman on him when you were younger, so he’d let you listen to whatever tape you wanted when you’d go into an anxiety attack. As much as you loved metal, you still loved pop music and a bunch of other genres that played on the radio. He’d grumble about it, but let you ‘contaminate’ his music player with whatever tape you’d be listening to even if it wasn’t metal.

The one band he remembered most you’d always listen to was Fleetwood Mac. A bit corny in his opinion since the only time he heard it was when his uncle was fixing his car or the old couple that lived in the RV next to his trailer would blast it when they were drinking. He didn’t know the lyrics well. He would really only pay attention to the chords or beat of the songs, but he needed you to get focused so you two could get off the lake. The last he needed was to be caught up in another murder, and for you to be in the mix as well.

“So there you go again, you say you want your freedom. Well who am I to keep you down? Na na na something something something.” He sang off key quietly. You were looking at him, still hyperventilating, but listening to his voice. “Like a heartbeat that drives you mad, in the stillness ehh na na na.” He drifted off, having a terrible time remembering the words rowing for the both of you, switching back and forth on the sides of the boat. “Landslide, you can go your own way?” His voice was no longer confident just basically saying any Fleetwood Mac song together.

You had stopped heavy breathing and took a deep breath, still internally panicking, but it was doing the both of you no good in the body of water. Besides, you could panic more once you were on shore and save Eddie from singing any longer and butchering one of your favorite songs. You grabbed your oar and started to row again. He visibly relaxed as you got back into the swing of rowing with him.

“Oh thank god,” he mumbled to himself. You bit your lip trying to hide a smile. You kept quiet, not exactly knowing what to say, well you had ideas, but you didn’t know how ill timed they would be. When was anything in your life rightly timed though?

“I hope you're not the lead singer for your band, Munson.” It slipped through your mouth before you could stop it. The sarcastic remarks reserved for him never having a filter.

He shook his head, “I’d like to have you know I can actually sing. Just not your shitty music choices.”

“Fleetwood Mac is not shitty, you say that about any band that isn’t labeled heavy metal.” You countered back, feeling thankful to be arguing rather than panicking.

“If it made you start rowing again, I’d sing Madonna.”

“Angel is one of my favorites,” you said in a ‘matter of fact’ tone.

“Please Y/l/n, the more you talk, the more faith I lose in your taste in music.” Eddie scrunched his nose.

“Yeah well I already lost faith in yours, when you declared Megadeth the new Metallica.” You snapped back playfully.

“As long as you’re rowing you can lose faith in my music taste all you want.” He replied. You rolled your eyes as you two continued to have a quiet heated debate about music to the shore. Ironically this is how all your other anxiety attacks ended when you were around Eddie when you were younger too. Maybe just with a little disdain and intensity now.

taglist: @sunfairyy @eddiemunson4ever @babygirlwilly @creme-delacreme @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @thicc101q @mcueveryday @ariegoldhouse

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #sour candy fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson headcanons #joseph quinn #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine

[robtopus]

(What follows is a brief review/analysis of The Beekeeper because I saw that movie the other day and enjoyed it)

Thinking about movies where A Dude is just living his best life until a more or less minor inconvenience makes him angry enough to murder everyone involved because turns out he's a retired super murder person who is now gonna unretire. It's not the newest trope, of course, but I feel like John Wick did if not reinvent then probably reinvigorate it with slick action and the bold choice to pick a man who oozes charisma and can do physical stuff for the enigmatic hero and then getting people who actually know how to act to take care of the story stuff. Then you get Bob Odenkirk in Nobody deconstructing the fuck out of the John Wick plot, Denzel Washington in The Equalizer making the bold choice to do a trilogy where the first movie is basically John Wick, the second is crap and the third one is a character study. And now we have Jason Statham as The Beekeeper also following the John Wick formula (with Jeremy Irons doing most of the heavy lifting) except they went all-in, and the Beekeeper is even less of a character than John Wick and really just a force of nature. And they have a really cool B-plot of the FBI cleaning up behind the "tornado" that is Statham. And because it was written by Kurt "Let's put all the budget into shooting one scene of Christian Bale talking to a Lady in a small room" Wimmer, the script thinks it's a bit smarter than it actually is. At the same time, the thinking about "what is just and what is justice" and "what is legal and what is right" puts the Beekeeper in a line of revenge media (because, as the character keeps pointing out, he's not doing this for society but for himself, since he's retired), and made me think of Thomas Jane's 2003 stint as the Punisher (which is a criminally underrated flick in my opinion).

I think one of the biggest issues I have with the Beekeeper is how serious the movie takes itself -- over the top revenge violence fantasy often skirts black comedy, of course, but I feel like we're supposed to not actually see the Beekeeper as a parody but an upstanding citizen, so to speak; and the kills are funny, sure, but they may actually be intended less as punchlines and more as rightful come-uppance. MovieBob touches on this when he calls the movie a "Boomer revenge fantasy on those young Gen-Zers" (quote paraphrased).

Nevertheless, it's an interesting, well-made movie that trades some of the slickness of Wick for a somewhat more urban/gritty feel and that I would not mind seeing a second part of (provided they don't go the Equalizer route of making the second one "part one again but it sucks").

#movie review #the beekeeper #literary analysis

[002yb]

thank you for your writing, it always makes my heart feel lighter 💞

for the prompts, if you're not busy, can you write about Dick asking to dance with Jason in the rain?

It's a quiet night as far as Gotham goes.  The unexpected storm that passes through seems to have deterred the worst of the usual criminal activity, but they all still make a cursory check over their assigned patrol routes just in case.  Traversing the rooftops is dangerous with how the rain makes them slick.  The soles of their boots help them find traction, but it's still risky so they all get called in before long.

Or rather, most of them are called in.

It's by chance that Dick sees him.  With how small he's somehow made himself; with how he's tucked himself beside one of the many stone gargoyles that pepper Gotham's architecture–Dick almost misses Jason entirely.

Something about that makes his chest constrict:  painful and terrible and awful.  Old regrets will always linger when it comes to Jason, but Dick takes a breath and lets it go.  There's no use dwelling on past mistakes or regrets.  Instead of wasting time disparaging himself for all those shortcomings and failings, Dick should learn from them and be better.

And he has.  He knows he has, it's just–even to this day he still struggles with Jason.  It's not that they can't or don't get on at all.  They have their moments, but there's a persistent distance between them.  Carefully maintained.  First by Dick, then by Jason.

They weren't estranged before Jason–before he was taken from them.  Dick wasn't around often; he didn't try to be so they were never close, but Jason was Robin and Robin is his.  Jason should have been...

It's Dick's calling card to withdraw when he's overwhelmed, so he's learned from his friends that persistence matters.  Annoying and irritating as it is when all his thoughts and feelings are muddied, it matters that people care enough to stay.  It's a tactic he's been using with Jason.  Dick isn't sure if it's working, but he keeps at it regardless.  Despite their rough beginning (both the first and second go around), Dick cares.  Even if Jason wants little to do with him, Jason deserves to be done right by.

Although the rain masks the sound of him well, Jason still hears him.  There's no red helmet tonight.  Maybe Jason was planning on having a shortened patrol, too.  Or maybe he just wanted to feel the rain.  The others complain about the inconvenience of it, but Dick enjoys the feeling.  It reminds him of spinning around just outside of wherever the circus caravan set up, of splashing in puddles and getting all muddied; a simple, playful childhood.

(He wonders what Jason thinks of–knows it's nothing as gentle because Jason's life has rarely been anything kind.  It was raining the night that Jason came back to them:  screaming and crying and suffocating, nails ripped and torn until he broke free and took a breath of smog-filled air and was drowned by a downpour).

It's still strange to see the broadness of Jason's shoulders now.  It was always expected that he would stay pint-sized, but that was before Jason died.  That was before a magic pit birthed Jason anew–mending traumas and healing scars; just not the ones that mattered.  Dick supposes those are for them to fix though:  Jason and all the people who have ever hurt him.  Jason and Dick.

"Hey, let's dance." Dick says.  He stands just a couple feet back from where Jason sits.  Rain pitter patters against them, around them.  The lights around them reflect across the wet surfaces, warm yellow light above, but a myriad of colors below.

The suggestion is befuddling to Jason, who turns to look back at him with a confused purse of his lips.  He's had time to get used to Dick's impromptu proposals.  Some of them he even takes Dick up on:  a jog around the city, taking Haley on a walk in the park, volunteering at a kids rec center just off the Alley.

The last time was a poetry reading Dick was just mentioning in passing because he heard about it and knew Jason would like it, but then Jason invited him and like hell Dick enjoyed it, but he loved watching Jason during it.  Enraptured.  Pleased.  It was endearing.

"Like, fight?" Jason asks.

"Like tag." Dick says.

The refusal is immediate, but Dick isn't discouraged.  Jason tells him 'no,' so Dick amends the suggestion.  Not like tag, like fighting.  It's still a resounding 'no,' but that's alright.  Dick huffs a laugh and tries again, "Then get over here and we'll dance."

"It's raining." Jason tells him.

"Why's that got to stop us?" Dick counters.

A sound argument.  Jason heaves a sigh at it and with the same dramatics heaves himself off the ground, too.  He stands on the ledge of the building, a steep drop to one side of him and Dick on the other.  It looks like Jason is considering the best escape route, but before Dick has a chance to bant about it Jason turns and approaches him.  He looks down at Dick with that slight height advantage he came back with before something ornery and wicked lights up his eyes.  The tips of Jason’s fingers press to the left side of Dick's chest, just above where Dick's heart stutters because Jason smiles–crooked and boyish and sweet.

"Guess it doesn't, huh?" Jason says, shoving Dick just enough to make him sway back an inch before Jason's smile becomes a bit more biting; all teeth and challenge when he says, "Tag then, you're it."

And then he's off–faster than Dick has time to react.

His heart still races, a smile of his own pulling at his lips:  genuine although it's wild and wicked.  Cheeky brat, Dick thinks to himself, but he's immeasurably fond and warm with affection at the unexpected playfulness.

The rooftops are slippery.  Even with the grip their boots afford them, they slip and slide and have to correct themselves in increasingly funny ways.  Jason watches Dick crash into a handful of walls.  Dick sees Jason unable to get traction and tumble straight onto his ass.  They both fall forward, catching themselves on hands and fingers, feet kicking until they’re able to propel themselves forward again.

The rain carries on around them.  They splash each other with the puddles it makes–not really muddy, but definitely dirty.  Thunder rumbles in the distance as they keep up their dangerous game, as they make unsteady leaps of faith and scramble to grab hold of each other when things get dicey.  They both take advantage at those moments, tagging each other with a pointedly cheeky touch (a pat on the cheek, a boop of the nose, a pinch of a bicep, a hair ruffle) before they take off running again.

It's the first time they've ever played like this.  It's the most fun Dick thinks he's had in a long time.  Jason keeps up with him and it's thrilling.

Jason is handsome when he smiles.  There's something sweet about it.  He looks impossibly young without the red helmet, with only a domino to maintain his identity.  The sight somehow makes Dick feel melancholic.  It makes him wonder if this is what Jason would have been like had everything been okay–or maybe he would have stayed small, still in Dick's colors.

It doesn't matter, not really.  All that matters is that Jason is here and Dick is so grateful for that.  Jason is youthful and sweet regardless of stature or scars.  It's just who he is.

Jason chases Dick through a derelict church.  The bell in the tower above them chimes loudly overhead as they duck through broken stained glass, as they dash along rotting rafters.  There's light below them–candles.  A place of sanctuary still although it hasn't been used for worship in some time.

There are pillars to hide behind that they chase each other around, playing the most obnoxious game of peek-a-boo until one of them reaches out and gets danced away from.  The further in they wander, the more steel scaffolding they come across.  It makes everything that much more fun; more areas to stand on  and slip through and swing around.  Try as he does, Jason can't touch Dick like this.  Something about it makes Dick cackle, and something about the menace in his tone seems to get Jason and–oh.  Oh.

For just a second, Dick falters.  It's all the opportunity Jason needs to charge him, chasing them both through this warm and safe place and into dark and rain–back to the skies.

Jason's laughter rings like those bells.

It takes him off guard and Jason gets the advantage, literally knocking Dick off his feet once they get steady ground beneath them again.

Dick doesn't get up after.  He stares wide-eyed at the sky, rain falling around him and Jason just above him, face pinched in confusion as he asks why Dick stopped before Jason's eyes widened and–"Shit, are you okay?" 

Jason pulls Dick back to his feet before backing off, spooked because  he doesn't know what's wrong.  Dick isn't sure if he knows what's wrong, either.  Suddenly his eyes just burn.

"It's just the rain." Dick lies around a wobbly smile and a dismissive wave of his hand.  Just some rain in his eyes.

Jason doesn't seem convinced, but concerned as he might be he doesn't push.  He's too soft and kind for how the world and so many people have hurt him.  It makes Dick feel proud, but also like he can't stand it.

This isn't something they do; it's not something Jason allows himself, but Dick feels like if he doesn't do something now then everything they’ve worked towards will all fall apart.  Someone should have given Jason this sooner–all these little things:  company, companionship, support.  With telegraphed movements, Dick reaches out.  Jason startles, but doesn't pull away when Dick wraps him in a hug, arms tight around him.

It's tentative, but Jason eventually wraps his arms around Dick's shoulders, pulling Dick's head to his chest.  The rain keeps falling, pattering against and around them.  Jason is devastating even when he's being gentle, especially so.  That hasn't changed.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks because he should have from the start.  There's a noticeable trembling in Jason's arms as he clings to Dick tighter, shaking minutely; his body tense as Jason tries to hide how a simple courtesy and expression of care makes him unravel.

"It's just the rain." Jason lies, head ducking.  Just the chill of the rain.

To think they could have had this from the start.  To think that Jason could have had this all along.  It's such a damn waste.  That laugh–fuck, that laugh.  Dick's never heard anything so wonderful.  When was the last time he heard it?  He can't remember.

-------------- Thank you so much for the support (and the prompt)! Hope you enjoy, anon. (´∀｀)♡  Kind of a loose interpretation of your prompt, but I immediately thought of little birds flitting about chasing each other and it’s kind of dance-like?  Just me?  Oh dear ahaha.

#jaydick #dickjay #jason todd #dick grayson #prompt fill #more welcome (: #words

[aresianrepose]

Can I ask about the Bruce and Jason argument scene you mentioned in your tags? 👀👀

You can find the fic here

The specific chapter that houses the argument here

I honestly did a shit job with the summary and it's the first multichapter fic I've written in probably about 3 years so it's a bit rusty with the plot hooks. So yeah, here's a little excerpt that ties into that specific post from the argument! It leans heavily into the idea that Bruce's arguments and stances are entirely based on his morals and feelings, even when he wants to pass them off as logic through stonewalling and stoicism.

Also, this fic is meant to have long-term character growth (with an intentional third-person limited POV) so if anyone yells at me about Bruce and Jay's bad relationship you get dunked in the ice bucket of critical thinking and reading skills.

Excerpt under the cut.

"Why?" Jason's voice broke around the word. His heart hammered in his chest, not wanting the response he knew was coming. "Why is he alive?"

"You stopped me once. You know why." Bruce replied quickly, but seemed to be having a conversation he already had a million times. As if he knew exactly where it went, what would be said, and the inconvenience of having to actually talk it through was painfully trite.

"I still ended up fucking dead. I stopped you to end the violence that you showed me comes with that brand of justice. And I still ended up fucking dead." Jason searched Bruce's face for any reaction to his words and came up painfully empty.

"Is this conversation really necessary?"

"Yes, it fucking is. I deserve that much. You watched a serial killer take my life and then just fucking gave him a free pass to kill more people." Jason was completely thrown off. He knew that he would have to fight Bruce on the moral viewpoint he was offering, but the idea he would have to fight him to acknowledge the need for the conversation floored him. He had been dead to Bruce for four fucking years and he didn't want to talk about it?

"The sanctity of human life applies to everyone. Even if you don't want to admit it does." Bruce was firm, unwavering.

"The sanctity of human life? Allowing Joker to live is a violation of the sanctity of human life,” Jason laughed incredulously, his bubbling anger tinging the laughter with bitterness. Jason's face and neck were getting hot. The collar of his shirt seemed to be shrinking, choking around his throat as he spoke. “It makes you responsible for the blood on his hands. Fucking rivers of innocent blood. I do value life. If someone has their chance at redemption and they can’t be contained, then the blood of those they kill is on the hands of those who should've put them down."

"Is that your reason for coming home? Revenge?" Bruce raised his eyebrows, his judgment in Jason evident.

"Justice." Jason hissed.

"There are systems of justice that meet that need. No man can not be judge, jury, and executioner." Bruce spoke as if he was teaching a child not to touch a hot stove.

"You started this because the justice system was corrupt and couldn't bring you justice. Why do you keep relying on it then? To hand over these repeat, violent offenders who have every chance to rehabilitate but choose not to. You're not a fucking idiot. You know the outcome. You know he can't be stopped. You know the cost of every breath he takes. This isn't about saving lives for you, if it was you'd take on the personal cost of taking a life to save others. That's a price I'm willing to die by. I actually give a fuck about individual lives, not the idealized concept of a city." Jason had moved to the edge of his seat, leaning forward as he spoke. He could feel every pounding heart beat in the smallest capillaries in his body.

Bruce sighed heavily. It only caused Jason's anger to flare. He knew his argument was solid and yet Bruce was treating him like a naive child. As if he hadn't spent years being a vigilante, as if he hadn't learned these lessons first hand. As if he wasn't giving up everything he wanted to bring the only kind of justice that would stop someone like the Joker.

"The sanctity of life-" Bruce started but Jason cut him off again.

"What's the point of doing what we do if we can't do what the law won't?" Jason demanded. "Little girls are locked up for life for killing their pimps while repeat offenders get off with slaps on the wrist? Or even worse, never tried at all. Do you know the percentage of assault cases that actually get pursued? What is the point of what we do?

"Everyone can change, not everyone will. And your circle jerk about not killing a man who has proven that he will not change and will continue to take lives with a staggering amount of power to do so only shows me the outright idiocy of your choice to become a vigilante. Just go put on a fucking uniform. Get a badge. You're choosing not to be a cop to get out of doing paperwork. Should've been a pig instead of a fucking bat." Jason's voice echoed through the study, chest heaving with every gasping breath between his words.

He felt like a battering ram, trying to beat past Bruce's stonewalling. Every cyclical thought since he had learned Bruce hadn't killed the Joker, every imaginary confrontation leading to this moment. Hours and hours of sitting in silence and arguing with Bruce in his own mind, trying to win. It all spilled out of his mouth in rapid fire. He would not be silenced. Bruce would hear every word.

"Where would the line be? Who gets to decide what is deserving of death? It would be too easy to cross that line and hold that power over who lives and who dies. To deal out death to whom I see fit without any repercussion is a slippery slope that would only lead to a gross perversion of justice. I thought I had taught you at least that much.” The disappointment in Bruce's voice cut Jason deeper than he realized it would. He didn't anticipate just how much he had hoped Bruce would see and understand him. The subsequent realization that Bruce would never see him cut into the tender, dead child inside of him. He railed against the pain, his jaw tightening.

"You're not listening! I don't know why I fucking try with you. Why can't you ever just fucking listen to me? It's always about you and your fucking amorphous morals. How does it feel to be the god of your own universe? Treating everyone in your life as pawns you get to swoop in and rescue, control, and push until they fall? This isn't about the stupid fucking game you play. This isn't about how fucked it is that you think you own this city. This is about your son standing in front you begging to be fucking heard. You value philosophical concepts more than your actual living, breathing son.

#clovis writes #jason todd #fanfic #this particular scene is also wayyy more dialogue heavy than i typically write but jason just had so much to say

[fbfh]

Hi I'm so sorry this probably sounds stupid 😭 but uh you're shifter right? I am too and I've been thinking of shifting to PJO/HOO (I'd probably go with HOO cause of the loml Leo) but idk what time I should shift to like should I shift to the time they were battling gaia and become the 8th part of the prophecy? but that would mean I'd have to go through Leo's "death"(yk when he rescued calypso and everyone thought he's dead and all that), and I kinda don't want to battle giants that much. Or should I shift to after that, to the time of trials of apollo? And I don't want leo and calypso together (I'm too in love with him I can't see him dating calypso) so I'd have script leo rescuing her but only liking her as a friend? So like I was wondering to when do you shift? And do you use a script? And I want him and me to be a little older, can we do that in shifting? (I'm still new to all this I've shifted like 2 times help)

I'm so sorry ik you don't usually get asks like this, please ignore this and pretend you never saw this if you don't wanna answer 😭😭

this is a very good question!! also dw I'm fine getting asks about shifting I'm just keeping it on the down low a little yk this got kinda long so I tried to put important stuff in bold lol

the short version is this is ultimately compeltely and entirely up to you (ik that doesn't sound very helpful though lol) and the best shifting advice I can possibly give you is listen to your instincts!!!! listen to your higher self!!!! follow what feels right and stay away from shifttok!!!!!!

the other important thing I've been thinking about recently is how important it is to not over script, and how important it is to keep your details realistic. Like if you're scripting that you have a baby, scripting that the baby never ever cries or needs to be fed or needs a diaper change isn't a good idea bc that's not how babies work, and part of the fundimental experience of raising a baby is soothing them and feeding them and caring for them. You can script that you have a very happy baby and you always know what they need and you're always able to sooth and comfort and take care of them, but completely scripting out fundimental stuff like that detracts from the experience and ends up making it harder to connect to your reality. you can minimize things that you're not as much of a fan of or stuff that sounds inconvenient, but romanticizing the boring and mundane and annoying and in between parts is actually really really helpful for connecting and making things feel real (bc they are)

as for when you should shift to, I personally am a fan of the post HOO pre TOA era where the gang's all together and things are finally quiet at camp for a while. The fact that you're in that reality at all means it's immediatley going to be different/better than the reality without you just bc you're there. you could always script something in along the lines of you and Leo having a thing, and you're the reason he leaves C*lypso and her shitty little island. honestly I feel like Leo would still rescue her bc he feels bad for her and he's just like,, a good person?? I think the look on Cally's face when he drags her ass back to camp immediatley and reunites with you would be hilarious. you could also throw in that he lets you know on the downlow that he's doing something risky but it's to save Jason and your friends and everyone else, so you know he'll be fine and can comfort your friends when they're worried. honestly I'm a slut for a good post heroic "don't ever scare me like that again (that was super brave and I'm really proud of you and glad you're okay)" moment so do with that what you will.

you can also make a domestic dr with Leo if you just want some chill time with him. college/leo in his MIT era is a favorite of mine, along with quarantining together and infinate beach vacation.

also yes you absolutely can age yourself and other people up or down depending on when you want your dr to be!! some things that really seperate college au/older Leo from canon/teen leo for me are details like occasional stubble, buff arms n chest, a teeny tiny bit taller, and generally a little more confident and self assured.

yes I do use a script!! here are some of my dos and don'ts of scripting but remember to follow your instinct!!!! and that you don't NEED a script to shift!!!! STAY AWAY FROM SHIFTTOK!!!!!!!!

most of my scripting is through pinterest, playlists, and making outfits on shoplook bc those are the fastest ways for me to feel plugged into my dr. I'm a little dyslexic so visual stuff works best for me, and I'm really into fashion and outfits/moodboards, so that's one of my favorite things to do. another thing I like to do is make like,, what's in my bag collages almost?? like I'll pick out a bag or backpack and pick out everything that's in it, including stuff like hand sanitizer scents, lip balm, recipets, bobby pins, gum flavors, and pen colors. usually when I type out scripts, it's either for organizing stuff I might not remember off the top of my head (like the order and release dates of movies in an actor dr, or discography and track lists and lyrics in a singer dr). ANOTHER THING I LOVE TO MAKE FOR DRS IS TO DO LISTS!!!! I use to do lists all the time here, so I make little to do lists for my drs as something to ground me when I get there. It's usually a combination of kiss this person, give this person a hug, tell this person I love them and my friend (from my cr) says hi, and tasks associated with that dr. Like in a parent dr my to do list might be kiss my spouce, pick up the kids from school, make dinner, and help the kids with their homework. Again, romanticising mundane things helps a lot, and romanticizing mundane things in your CR is both good practice to get in the habit, and makes your CR feel as special as your DRs.

#anti shifters dni #shifting

[glorified-red]

your majesty , I gots a question for you

In your opinion, what are the batboys like when they are horny? Who gets grumpy ? Who gets sad? Who gets excited ?

Fanning myself over here 😳

Bruce gets grumpy because it interferes with work and can heavily impede his proper judgement so he either "gets rid of it" swiftly or ignores it for so long to the point where it's all he can think about. So it's really either a quickie or he's trapping you in the bed for a hot minute because the longer he's stuck feeling horny the more rough he'll be.

Dick finds it accelerating most times. It's a fun adrenaline rush and he likes to see where it leads him. Horniness hardly effects his judgment or his actions so it's a fun buzz. He starts to get more flirty and touchy, just all around in a good mood.

Jason doesn't indulge in sex until he feels comfortable enough to which means he usually just sedates his horniness through make out sessions. He gets a little more explore-some when he's super horny so expect his hands to travel. He gets territorial too and likes to put you in his lap or keep you in his arms.

Tim doesn't realize he's horny until he's in a position where it hits him with full force. At that point it's really a toss up between getting needy or frustrated because nothing is satisfying enough. Face planting, grumbling, bouncing his leg, etc

Damian can get annoyed or kind of affectionate?? He doesn't get horny very often, if at all. He views it as a natural process that can be inconvenient at times but with you he starts to view it as a bonding experience. He usually deals with it quickly while he's alone so he can move on with his day or he just waits for you. The longer he waits the more intimate it would be in a "I want to savor this" kind of way.

#thanks #now im going to be thinking about this while im driving to the beach #love thirsts #good stuff #asks

[arttheclown]

   okay i’m like... having a lot of thoughts about this page. mainly how happy i am to see sam & twitch again (and how touched i am that terry thought to go to them for help in the first place), but also the entire exchange between wynn & al & what i think it means for their characters, and for terry. i’ll break it down into bullet points under the cut, because this got way longer than i intended it to.

as this page demonstrates, wynn clearly doesn’t have any loyalty to any one particular person or cause - he just follows around whoever is the strongest / has the most advantage over everyone else. right now - in a twist of irony, considering how spawn began - that person is al. jason is fascinated by terry’s courage & even had a moment of understanding with him, but those feelings aren’t strong enough to override his own desperation to survive.

however, with this in mind - wynn and/or al allowed terry to go peacefully, seeing as the last issue ended with terry’s horrified reaction to the state of al. it’s interesting to note that wynn has been given repeat opportunities over the course of king spawn to kill terry & opted not to every time. makes my gay little ass wonder if there’s some underlying affection or respect there, because wynn’s choices don’t seem to have much to do with terry’s usefulness to him at this point. terry doesn’t seem to be offering wynn anything, and yet...

his decision to tell al that terry is “on the run” can be interpreted two ways, i think. he’s either selling terry out in an attempt to save his own skin, or he’s trying to gauge how messed up al is by seeing what he’s willing to do to his best friend. not to give jason wynn too much credit, but considering that wynn goes on to talk about what terry told him he saw in his vision, i’m inclined to believe he’s trying to figure out how far gone al has become - at least for now. whether it’s because he’s scared of al or is planning to use al’s madness to his advantage remains to be seen.

terry, on the other hand, seems to be turning to anyone he thinks might help him get al & this entire fucked up situation under control. wynn reveals in the new issue that terry confided in him about his dream off-panel; likely when they were alone, seeing that wynn had to explain to al that he knows what terry saw. this really cements, at least in my mind, that terry is clinging to the hope that wynn might come around & help get al under control (you know it’s bad when terry is putting any confidence in him). an “enemy of my enemy is my friend” kind of situation. the enemy being al’s instability, of course.

and then we have al, who clearly isn’t doing well or acting like himself at all. no shocker there, considering he sat on the god throne which either a) corrupted him supernaturally in some way or b) badly shook up his already-fragile mental state. he sees terry not as his oldest & best friend, but an minor inconvenience to his scheme. terry & al have had their ups and downs since pretty much the beginning of spawn, but because this writer went out of his way to establish what close friends they were, we’re meant to find that remark disturbing.

more evidence pointing to just how unlike himself al is acting? king spawn emphasized, from the first issue, that al simmons is a protector of children and gets deeply angry when they’re put in harm’s way. wynn - who has been written as callous towards children before, but not outright hateful like some of the other villains - is clearly struggling to wrap his head around the fact al would ever hurt one, especially terry’s kids.

and even if we’re going off the idea that jake & katie are demonic or supernatural in some way - and i honestly couldn’t tell you if that’s still the case or not, because trying to follow spawn canon is a fucking headache on a good day - i do not see al taking any pleasure in getting rid of them. that grin on his face is so out-of-character for him it’s not even funny. it’s pretty obvious to me that, at least right now, he is not the hero of the story. the person who’s taken over that role is terry. al needs to be rescued from himself and fast.

the last thing i’m gonna comment on is that i find the way al describes wynn & terry’s roles (on a separate page) interesting. he calls wynn a “bishop” and terry a “rook,” comparing them to the chess pieces. a bishop is less valuable than a rook, as a rook moves in any direction horizontally or vertically and is not restricted by its square colour. the bishop is the only piece besides the king (al) and queen (wanda) that may move diagonally at any point, but the rook is the second most-powerful piece on the board besides the queen; it has even more power than the king. could this line be offering some clues as to what the future has in store for these characters? we’ll find out in time, i suppose.

#al simmons #terry fitzgerald #jason wynn #spawnposting #im aware the spawn fandom on here consists of me some buddies & a paper clip but let me be autistic about it #sid's meta

[indigo474]

61623

Madison graduated. It went by fast. Her friend Jason went with me to the ceremony, just the 2 of us. I asked her to drop tickets off to Chatham. She declined to do so. I invited my Mom, but she had to complicate things and i told her to forget it- i wasn't going to inconvenience myself for her. she wasn't willing to go out of her way even a little and who knows if she would have shown up anyway. I was very thankful for Jason. I thanked him - i obviously would have went by myself- thankful i didn't have to. I thought the ceremony was really nice and GOD- i wish nothing but the best for all those kids. Jut like that it's over. Mads was so nervous and full of anxiety. She has been brutal to be near the past few days and honestly i wish i were in work. she takes everything out on me-because she has no one else. Her anxiety is bad. I was able to get her to the dentist- the last time she was there she got charged for the visit because x has her birthday wrong. I gave the office X's name and phone number and told them they need to call him with any questions regarding payment or insurance- fuck him. While we were at the office the hygienist was asking Mads basic questions that she was unable to answer. basic basic things- i had to answer for her- i mouthed the words- you are special needs - and she started crying. We've joked about this before- both ways- her telling me i'm special and me telling her- but dam did i feel horrible. so horrible- fuck- i was trying to be funny. i try my best and manage to fail. i have to remind myself that there is nothing in this world i can do to take away the pain she feels about her siblings and her dad- no amount of anything i give her will make it go away- including love. All i can do is be here for her. she wants to move- i told her we will- in time. The condo we both liked is pending. I didn't put an offer on it- i kind of wish i did. I wish i had started looking sooner for a house but i honestly did not know if i would be getting a settlement check or not- and here we are- i feel like all the good homes are already taken and i missed my chance. it's easy for me to think that way about my life- all my good years are gone.

I was suppose to meet my Mexican friend today- i told him again and again - we needed to meet somewhere,where i would feel safe. He sends me his address- i dont know if it was the whole language thing but he assured me he understood. he just wanted to fuck. maybe thats all i'll find at this point- it sure seems like it- except for the dude who didn't want to fuck or kiss. Yesterday i couldn't make a decision to save my life- i just couldn't. it took me 10 minutes to pick at a pack of underwear. I picked out a pack of thongs.i haven't worn thongs in ages- turns out they are comfortable. I had been thinking about going to the dead and co concert- only to find out this morning i missed it yesterday- i swore the last time i went was my last time- not because i dislike the music- because the last time the abuse from X was brutal. why would i keep putting myself through that- i swore- last time- turns out it was as dead and company arent supposed to tour anymore..

I feel like im in a world of shit with work- i did NOT get coverage for myself tonight- got a text. along with a phone call on wednesday. not sure how long i will be in my position. its kind of messed up whats going on but i cant blame anyone.. it all falls on me- Monday should be interesting.

[slashers-are-us]

can we have headcanons for slashers whose s/o is kind of distant and awkward? a lot of headcanons seem clingy personality based and i was wondering how you would see them dating someone who is opposite of that. thank u! (also idk if you write freddy anymore but i noticed he's not in a lot of your hc's, do you think that you could include him? sorry for asking so much!!!) thank you :)

[A/N: I do write for Freddy Krueger if that’s who you’re talking about, I just don’t write much about him because personally I like Nancy more and find myself rooting against Freddy most times]

Freddy Krueger would be fine with a distant s/o, at the start of the relationship he’d constantly annoy you and be around you until he learned you aren’t comfortable with that. You set your boundaries with him and he respects those believe it or not.

Bubba Sawyer can be slightly distant at times, he’d understand the feeling of awkwardness or of being overwhelmed and would leave you in peace. He respects your boundaries and actively tries not to inconvenience you, he normally just walks up to you and silently hands you a gift before going back to what he was doing before.

Jason Vorhees would feel like he did something wrong, he grew up with an overbearing mother and feels that every moment he isn’t spending doting over you is one more moment that you spend drifting away from your love with him. It’d take a while for him to understand that’s just the way you are but will ultimately accept that it isn’t his fault and he doesn’t have to dote on you 24/7 for you to stay in love with him.

Michael Myers is also distant, though not as understanding as Bubba. He barely ever initiates interactions and when they do they’re normally only simple questions about your well-being. 

Brahms Heelshire wouldn’t understand at all, he’d blame it on everything besides you and him. He’d throw tantrums and cling to your arm like a child to their mother's leg in an unfamiliar place. He’d constantly seek for your affection and when you pull away he’d stomp off to destroy something or pout in a corner in an attempt to make you feel bad for him.

Carrie White is a quiet person in general, she’s overcome with social anxiety from growing up so sheltered by her mother. She can get overwhelmed easily but makes an effort to reach out to you, respecting your boundaries as well and sending small gestures of love to you like small notes found in your pockets or baked treats waiting for you when you get home.

Ash Williams would first think it was only because you either didn’t trust him or were depressed. He’d start with grand gestures of love and appreciation but finally after months of trying you’d get it into his brain that there wasn’t any reason besides that you were a generally distant and awkward person.

Herbert West wouldn’t notice you being awkward or distant, he’s so constantly wrapped up in his research that he doesn’t find time to look farther into your attitude and demeanor. 

Billy Lenz could be very loud and abrasive at times and other times very quiet and reserved. He doesn’t know what normal human interaction in so he takes your awkwardness as just something that’s normal to everybody.

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher would both have the same reaction, that you were a social outcast in school and it stuck with you. They would constantly tease you for it but apologize right after they’d gone too far with it.

#freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #bubba sawyer #leatherface #jason vorhees #jason vorhees x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher imagines #brahms heelshire x reader #carrie white x reader #brahms heelshire #carrie white #ash williams #ash williams x reader #herbert west x reader #herbert west #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #stu macher #billy loomis

[moonlit-imagines]

Misbehavior (Part 1)

Jason Todd x batkid!reader

warnings:

a/n: tysm anon!!

prompt: anonymous: “Hello Lacey! Hope your doing great! Could I please request a bat family x batsis!reader where the reader is Kind of the middle child (I was thinking older than Damian but younger than Tim) and she’s always forgotten and in the back. Maybe some scenarios can be that no one listens when she talks or they forget to invite her to do stuff. So then one day she acts up in school like maybe punching someone for no good reason because she’s craving attention but instead of Bruce showing up to get her Jason shows up and he sees that she’s actually really sad and starts to question her until she tells him everything and maybe spills some tears and it ends with just Jason comforting her and cheering her up. Just some soft Jason for my soul! Also have a great day and I hope that you feel better and more motivated now after your break! 😘”

part 2

No matter what you did, none of your deeds went unnoticed. Good or bad.

You always heard how Dick was so independent, the one everyone should use as an example.

You always heard how Barbara could do it all, she never failed to impress.

You always heard how Jason was reckless, someone who needed to get his act together.

You always heard how Tim was such a prodigy, he was one of a kind.

You always heard how Steph was so determined, she had such amazing goals.

You always heard that Cass was perfect, they’d never change a thing about her.

You always heard that Duke was so strong, he’d never give up no matter what stood in his way.

You always heard that Damian was dangerous, a kid that needed to be guided.

But what about you? What did they hear about you? Nothing. No one ever spoke of you, they didn’t have the time. It seemed as if you were just unimpressive, there wasn’t one thing that needed to be mentioned. Stuck in the middle of a bunch of bats and birds, no way to stand out in the crowd.

Maybe not in a mask or a cowl, a dress or a suit, behind a computer or among the darkness, but there was one place you couldn’t be ignored...

You sat at your desk, picking at old tape with the tip of your fingernail. The teacher had nothing interesting to say, so what was the point of being here? What made Gotham Academy so special that you just had to attend this place?

The uniform was overkill, the classes went nowhere, the students were too preppy, and you didn’t have a single thing in common with anyone here.

Anger was starting to bubble inside you as you continued your internal self-loathing. Your mind was only focused on the negative, but it was shifting from school back to home.

No one was ever there for you, not even on patrol. You’d called for backup several times on missions and nearly lost it all when you had to go in alone. If it were anyone else, a teammate would have met them in a heartbeat.

Your plans were always overshadowed whenever you tried to set up a mission or even just a day off. You wanted cookies? Too bad, Tim wants brownies. You wanted to watch a movie? Too bad, everyone chose a TV show. It was the little things that irked you the most. Half the time, you never even got the memo.

And what about when you all come back from patrol with all sorts of injuries and Alfred comes to patch you up? Well, not you. He’ll run to check on cuts and scrapes. Meanwhile, you had a broken wrist and a black eye.

You’d finally run out of things to pick at around your desk which resorted in you tapping instead. There was a brief bit of zoning out as you remembered the time that Damian’s plan for evading Killer Croc’s attack was to push you in the way. Or the time that Jason hid his guns in your bed for reasons he didn’t care to explain. Or when Dick drank the last of the milk and didn’t tell you until after you poured your cereal. Or when Tim told you that you weren’t fit for the mission he had been planning. Or when Bruce blatantly ignored the story you told out of pure excitement, giving you nothing but a “sounds like you had fun.”

While you were in a horrible daze, you felt a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of it faster than the Barry Allen. Without even evaluating the situation, your reflexes caused you to turn and twist your classmates arm backwards as he screamed.

“Hey! Stop, ow, that hurts! Stop! Stop it!” You processed his words too late and knew exactly what was coming next.

“Y/N L/N!” You teacher shouted as you drew your hand back. “Dean’s office. Right now.” Her sharp voice sent a chill down your spine, not even the Joker could do that. You’d be able to explain the situation pretty easily, you just didn’t want to make it worse. But there was one ankle that sent you off the edge. Another student tripped you on your way through the aisles, and that student caught a fist to the face. The audience gasped and shouting from your teacher ensued, but you didn’t listen, you’d take the punishment at this point. So you walked right out and headed for the dean’s office without so much as a hall pass.

“Mx. l/n? What’s this about?” Dean Williams was surprised to say the least, you’d never been sent in for discipline before. Was there a certain way to do this?

“Well, I zoned out and some kid behind me grabbed my shoulder, I accidentally twisted his arm.” You retold your story, the abridged version. “But on my way out I punched a kid in the face because he tripped me. That one’s on me.”

“...Well,” the dean frowned at his obligations, but had to go through with some kind of punishment, “I’m going to have to suspend you for physical contact with a student. I’ll call your father to come pick you up.” You shrugged and slouched back in your chair, giving up on any hope of talking your way out of this. It might as well just happen. You listened to the clicking of the buttons on the dean’s phone as he typed in the Wayne Manor phone number, obviously reaching Alfred almost immediately.

“Wayne Manor.” You eard his faint voice through the speaker.

“Hello, this is Dean Williams from Gotham Academy, may I speak to Mr. Wayne? I have his child in my office.” Your dean explained over the phone, peeking back at your for a split second. You were completely unbothered, it was baffling.

“Is it Damian?” You heard him ask, causing an involuntary eye roll.

“Y/N, actually.” There was a long pause before someone else picked up the phone. “Mr. Wayne, this is Dean Williams at Gotham Academy. I have y/n sitting across from me right now, they seemed to have gotten themself into a physical altercation with two separate students, I have no choice but to suspend them.” You heard a deep sigh over the phone, then the handheld piece was handed to you.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Really? Fighting at school?” He sounded unimpressed. Nothing new, even when you do something new.

“Something like that. Whoops.” He hung up on you right after that, so you handed the phone back and told your dean, “Guess they’ll get me soon.”

“You call your father by his first name?” Dean Williams had nosily questioned.

“I’m adopted.” He obviously didn’t know you as well as your more troublesome sibling, it was time he just minded his business.

After a good thirty minutes of silent waiting while listening to keyboard clacking and papers flipping by the front desk, the office door opened, and to your surprise, it was one of your brothers.

“I’m here for y/n.” He mumbled, signing the piece of paper and showing his ID.

“Alright, Mr. Harper, I just have to check some paperwork really quick...” The receptionist went into your file and checked for your emergency contacts. “You’re all set. Now, y/n has been suspended for two weeks. I suggest you get to the bottom of their little ‘outburst’ before they’re able to come back to school.” It actually pissed Jason off to hear her say that.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcasm wasn’t subtle. “Come on, kid.” Your brother gripped your arm and led you out of the office, noticing your bitter expression that he couldn’t even rationalize. Was that normal? “So what happened. Bruce just told me to come get you.”

“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes on the brink of tears, he didn’t even come to get you himself. Jason opened the car door for you and nudged you inside, slamming it once you were clear.

“You better have a good reason,” he warned as he started the engine, “I was in the middle of a poker game.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m such an inconvenience.” You were starting to remind him of himself. That was never a good thing.

“Okay, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason began speeding down the block, you’d never once seen him obey a speed limit. You’d think someone with a fake ID and a death certificate would want to avoid any run-ins with the cops, but Gotham was just one of those cities.

“Yeah, right.” You reached for the radio knobs and felt Jason’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“No music until you explain yourself.” You fell back into your seat to pout, muttering some curses under your breath. “I won’t tell Bruce or anyone. I swear.”

“I just zoned out. Reflexes.” You bluntly replied.

“What?” He still didn’t have any context to go off of.

“I twisted someone’s arm backwards. Honest mistake.” Jason knew there was more to this story. “But on my way out of the classroom, I punched this kid who tried to trip me. That was on him.”

“As much as I condone payback, you can’t do that at school.” He sighed. “You’ve never been sent home before. That I know of. So why now?”

“Yeah, you know, maybe that’s the issue? You couldn’t tell me if I’ve ever gotten in trouble before. None of you could. You couldn’t tell me a definitive thing about me. When’s my birthday, Jason?” He was at a loss for words. “That’s what I thought.”

“So this was all for attention?” Jason asked. “There’s a hell of a lot of better ways to go about that.”

“Tried them all, this one barely even worked.” You replied with a crack in your voice. “How come none of you care about me? Why am I always looked over? I’m just like the rest of you. I put on that stupid suit every night and kick ass, I get my job done, I get good grades, I’m resourceful, I’m special—” You’d let that last one slip in your rant to your older brother, it shocked him so bad he stopped the car.

“I know what you mean.” Jason stared straight ahead at the empty road. “I felt the same way when I came back. After everyone was used to me being back, it was like nothing ever happened. Bruce just went back to calling me careless, irresponsible.”

“At least you get noticed, Jason. Your identifiable.” You turned to him with a pained look and he risked his confidence to look you in the eye. Once he did, he couldn’t look away. It hurt him to see someone so familiar to himself have tears running down their face because they felt forgotten. No kid should ever have to feel like that. That was why Bruce took him in. That was how Jason became Robin.

“Fuck this.” Jason hit the gas and turned the car around. “We’re getting ice cream. Do you like ice cream? That’s a serious question.”

“I...I guess.” You were somewhat confused by his sudden literal change in direction.

“Good. You’re my kid for today, all my attention goes to you. I’m sure Bruce won’t notice if you’re gone for a few hours.” Jason’s jaw dropped at his last comment. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right and you should say it.”

taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x batkid!reader #jason todd x sibling!reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood #batfamily #batfamily x reader #batfamily imagine #batfamily x batkid!reader #jason todd x batsis!reader #jason todd x batbro!reader #batfamily x batsis!reader #batfamily x batbro!reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #dc comics imagine #batkid!reader #batsis!reader #batbro!reader

[gangrenados]

omg the alphabet for Dick was so hot 🥵🥵 please do one for Jason?

It took my like a whole week to finish this but it's finally here!! 😭😭

I may warn that this long and of course nsfw 😌

Everything starts below the cut!!

A = Aftercare

He isn't used to the other person staying around after the sex is done, so it's kind of awkward for him to see you lying there when there's nothing else to do.

Jason doesn't know what to say or do at first, but deep inside he admits that it's nice to have you there.

Jason is very sweet and caring during aftercare, part of this fueled by his eternal need to take care of you and show you how good he can be.

He will pepper kisses all over your face as he mumbles how good you have been to him, just to kiss your lips in such way that makes your knees weak.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jason really likes your butt and he let you know this by either grabbing it or slapping it every chance he gets.

He also likes tights and boobs (big or small he doesn't care)...well to summarize he likes anything he can squeeze.

He hasn't think too much about what he likes about his body, it's always the thoughts about what he doesn't like that takes to most space in his brain. However, if had to choose then it would be his arms because they show how big and muscular he is and after years of being an slim kid, he's really happy with that achievement.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Usually prefers to cum inside of you, it just feels nice and is like a weird connection you both can have for a brief moment. However, he really likes to cum in your chest too.

Also there's something about cumming in your face that makes this guy happy. It's like something inside of him wakes up when he see your face covered in his cum...he's just in awe.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes lingerie, that might not sound really shocking or surprising.

Jason's jaw drops every time he see you wearing a pretty set of lingerie and he has to contain himself any time you dare to match that with one of his leather jackets.

What I'm trying to day here is that he kind of want to try one of those cute lingerie on him, just to see if someone as buff as him can look nice in one those cute lingerie.

Jason hasn't told you this because he's pretty embarrassed with this desire of him, and also he doesn't want you to think of him as less masculine just because he wants to dress up in pretty lingerie for one your hot moments together. Not all the time of course, just when he's feeling exceptional pretty.

It would take a lot of time and trust for Jason to build the confidence to finally confess this to you.

He'll be so blushed his face would look like a tomato and he would even be able to look you in the eye, he's afraid that might laugh.

However, if you do agree you'll signing up to see your boyfriend to look all nice, absolutely cute and of course handsome.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Jason may not be as experienced as Dick, but he has had his one night stands so you can tell he has some knowledge of what to do in sex.

Jason is a quick learner and takes notes on what generally pleases others. However, he feels more comfortable and relaxed exploring with a trusted partner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Jason likes to see your face when he's fucking you, first of all because you're really beautiful and he's still amazed that someone as pretty as you is dating a guy like him. But the reason behind this is because he wants to know if you're enjoying this, and also it boosts his ego seeing you lose yourself in pleasure because of him.

•Cowgirl is one of his favorites since he's able to enjoy the show and hit deeper.

•It might sound boring, but he's into missionary too. You see, it's easier to set the pace and he gets to be closer with and therefore is amazing, especially for those intimate occasions.

•Speaking of romance? Jason likes having you sat on his lap with your arm around his neck as you ride him and he holds your buttocks. You're so close to each other, he thinks that's romantic.

•Okay but when you're lying on your back with yours knees bent and pressed to your chest or with your heels resting on his shoulders? That's a good one and Jason loves it cuz he gets to hit deeper and also because he gets see his cock going in and out of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It deepens on his mood, usually he's more lighthearted and romantic about having sex with you. Jason see it as a way to have an intimate moment where you can enjoy each other and have a great time.

In the other hand if he just wants to take out some of his frustration then he’s gonna be rougher, not caring much about anything else than cumming. His thrust are firm and harsh as well as the way he holds you.

Aftercare will be his top priority after taking away all of that extra stamina from his body, Jason needs to let you know how good you have been to him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He's pretty lazy when it comes to this kind of stuff, but he's well trimmed down there since it's uncomfortable to go around with a bush between his legs and also he wants to look presentable when the time to do the nasty comes.

He also have chest hair and a fine happy trail that goes from his belly button to his crotch. And yes, everything is as black as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He doesn't take sex too seriously, yes he thinks this is a special moment for you two, but it's doesn't have to be too sickly cheesy, ya know?

Jason just likes to live in the moment when you finally have the time to fuck. He'll kiss you passionatly as he mumbles sweet yet dirty things about what he's gonna do to you.

Better belive he will laugh if sometime awkard happens before dismissing the inconvenience to get back into bussines.

Of course if it's an especial occasion Jason will do his best to make this more romantic.

Maybe setting the mood with a well done playlist filled with sexy songs,  a nice room with dim lights to set the mood and rose petals scattered across the bed with a box in it with a little gift like lingerie...it sounds nice, right?

If not then a bathtub filled with bubbles, a bottles of wine and some scent candles will do the trick.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Jason doesn't do it that much since he doesn't have the time for it, besides it's better to get the real thing rather than his hand.

However, when the time shows up is either because he's bored and wants to have some serotonin running on his body or because you two are apart.

Jason is rather quiet when he's getting off, just a few little groans and whimpers are the only thing that anyone can possibly hear since he's very cautious with not getting caught.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

•Sub/Dom: he likes to be the one in charge since it allows him to have control over the situation and show you how good he can be. Although he can be a pretty good sub when you get him to let you be the dom.

•Praise kink: Jason needs to know you're enjoying this and that he makes you feel good, his insecurities tends to strike up in vulnerable situations like sex and it helps him to forget them when you tell him how good he's making you feel.

He will do the same of you without thinking too much about it. Jason wants you to know how good you're being to him.

•Hair pulling: preferably on him when he's going down on you but Jay tends to grab your hair when you're giving him head or when he's hitting it from behind.

•Semi public sex

•Choking: It's a turn on seeing his big hands around your neck and how you trust him enough to do a thing like this.

•Size kink: Jason is a tall guy that's built like a truck, he can easily tower over people and he finds hot seeing how little and vulnerable you look beside him.

It also makes him feel in control.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Jason is not picky about this, as long as you get to do the nasty and you're both okay with it, he's more than fine.

He likes fucking you in semi public areas where he knows it's gonna be hard for you to get caught but there's still that chance left, his bike, your bed, kitchen counters, the shower, his bike, the couch, even you tried it on the stairs one time!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn't take much to get Jason riled up, a good trick is wearing nothing but one of his shirts or wearing on sexy lingerie under one of leather jackets. Yeah it's a turn on for him when you wear his clothes.

He also finds really hot when you try to over power him or seeing you kicking some asses.

Also it's weird for him, but for some reason he finds arousing sometimes when you're being gently with him.

You could be cuddling, his head resting on your chest as you caress his scalp and then he pops a boner...maybe it's because he got too relaxed or maybe because he was so blushed that his blood couldn't help but go to his crotch? Jason doesn't know, but it's embarrassing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Jason hates bondage or being tied up in general. He will refuse to do that kind of things, it makes him remember bad memories and he just feel vulnerable and nervous. Therefore BDSM and rape play is a no for him.

He also doesn't want to inflict you any kind of pain, you see, Jason is terrified of hurting and that you'll hate him because of that.

It would take a lot of coaxing from your part to get Jason to agree into doing something like the above.

Also fucking you in his suit is a no, why? Well his suit has been covered in blood so many times (both from him and unknown people who only God knows where they have been), sweat, dirt, unknown chemicals and sewer water.

Jason thinks is pretty unhygienic, but hey if you really wanna try it doesn't take much to coax him in that one!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Jason loves to receive, especially after a long night of patrol or when needs to distress, but being honest any time if fine for him.

It's better to take it all with both hands and spit in it to avoid gagging. Also his hands tends to go to your hair and take a fistful of it as your trying to deep throat; he doesn't make you go further whatsoever, it just feels right for him to do it.

Also he have the tendency to brush away some strands of hair gently out of your face as your sucking him off.

One thing that drives him crazy is when you kitten lick his cock and give a kiss to the tip, another thing that he kinda likes having his balls played with.

Do you wanna know how he looks like?? Gotcha!

Ahh that gif is gonna be the end of me 😳

He's a big fan of receiving too, Jason really like to give his partner pleasure and he does his best to make that happen.

He'd be pumping your insides with his fingers as he looks for other areas to pleasure.

if you a gave pussy you better belive that he's really good at eating you out. He'll be knuckle deep as he licks on the clit, sucking on it and even nibbling it to tease you a little bit.

Jason is gentle, he doesn't want to cause you any harm, but damn that doesn't mean he's isn't going to eat you out as if you were his last meal.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Jason tries to be gentle but even then he tends to be on the rough and fast side. His hold on you his firm as he thrust into you, Jason will mumble sweet and dirty things and also will ask you between plants if you're okay since he's worried he might hurt you or make you uncomfortable.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Your relationship is filled with quickies thanks to his busy schedule. So if you got some time to have sex even if it's just 5 minutes, you better belive Jason will take advantage of it.

Jason likes them because he has to and also because he gets to be a little bit rougher with you, but he prefers to have more time with you and enjoy each other with more calm.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Jason is down to experiment as long as it doesn't harm you or bring back bad memories... and if it doesn't gross him out of course. You just need to talk about it.

Jason's life involves risk and one thing he likes is fucking you in semi risky places like empty halls of a library or an empty parking lot when you're going out of a bar, maybe getting handy in a cinema, you get the idea.

The thrill of not knowing if he's gonna get caught send chills down his spine. Of course he's not going to pressure you into doing any of this, Jason doesn't want to make you uncomfortable.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Jason can last many rounds before getting tired or starting to run out of cum. Just let him drink some water or eat something between breaks and he's all yours again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toys he has is the big collection of guns and any kind of weapon he can put his hands on. Not that you can use that in the bedroom...the majority of the time.

Leaving the bad jokes aside. Jason has a pair of cuff he got to steal from a cop one time, outside of that he doesn't have any sexual toy lying around.

However, he is down to use some toys on you, and if you ask nicely maybe even on himself too.

(He also owns a fleshlight...it was silly gift for his birthday)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Jason can be a tease when he puts his mind into it and usually he is when he's giving you oral. But he's can get impatient really quickly although he likes the build up before having sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 He's more of a grunter, and also he's low-key shy to moan out loud so he'll bite his lip to suppress them. However, the sound that comes out is a needy whine instead.

Speaking of, Jason's whimpers will make your knees buckle...they're glorious.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I can’t take away Jason dressed as a slutty maid out of my mind, sorry.

Jason swallowed thickly at the the feeling of your fingers brushing against his inner thighs, they were going up and down causing his heartbeat to speed up.

"Are you nervous, maid boy?" you purred before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. He shook his head, ready to deny your acusations when you grabbed his clothed member and started to rub it.

"I'm fine." he said breahtlessly, trying to hold back a whine that was stuck on his throat.

"You sure?" You scoffed as you grabbed his hardening dick. "Because it doesn't look like it." his mind was starting to fog and it didn't took much for him to hump your hand to feel more friction."You're acting like a needy slut, but I like it."

It was embarrasing the realived moan that left his lips once you pulled down his boxers and played with his cock. He could feel the coil in his stomach building, the white hotness taking over him as you pumped his dick, smearing the pre cum all over the tip with your thumb.

He was about to cum and was really looking foward it until everything stopped and the absence of your hand made him groan in annoyance.

"Don't be mad." You teased with a fake pout as you pecked his lips. "Get on the bed, baby boy."

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

The big dick energy he poses is real, this man little friend is not so little lol He's thicker than average and a little bit longer, let's say about 18 -19cm aprox.

It's a pretty decent looking cock with a few veins that goes from the base to the top and the head is more reddish than the rest. Also it's the same shade as his body, well in fact is a little bit darker but it's hard to tell the difference.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is pretty high as well as his stamina so he's down to fuck any time, but if you don't want to do it he will back off and move to other business.

Also there are moments when he's not in the mood not matter how much you want him. It usually happens when he's reading a really good book or when a case is consuming all of his time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

In regular basis it's hard for Jason to fall asleep and this doesn't make any difference. He just doesn't like the whole process of sleeping since it's like to being dead and that terrifies him.

So he will stay up even after you have fall asleep.

It's comfortable having you there where he can stroke your hair and feel how light his chest feels, if he's lucky enough he will fall asleep shortly after you.

Tag list @bathroom-sand @aterriblelangblr @simpery @jyarumu0619 @kellieriddle96 @adarksoul098 @rosethegothamhistorynerd @duckmylife18 @panic-attheplace @malfoys-demigod @darkraven1983 @magicisabluewish @hamdehlesmis @lucy-roo @lovelyartemisa @missmaskedwriter @c0-77 @ginevraxrogers @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut @shadygoateeprincess @nervousfandom @ghost-bitch @silverw19 @thegirlwholovesbooksblog @hecatemacbeth7 @unknowntoanyone @mistalli @screechingghostbananafarm @waroncheer @lady-stirling @ghostly-ginger @greeknerd007 @la-femme-lupita @jasonsballsack @violettessuniverse @wondergal23 @dreamxcollide @thirstiestpotato @magicalbeanie @dreamingforthosewholost @letlly

#smutty #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #Jason Todd #dc imagine #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood imagine

[angelz-dust]

Bro cowboy!jason with some smut would be beautiful 😭

yeehaw baby - minors avert y'all eyes 🤠

(as i was writing this i realized i was writing a female reader but if you'd like a male or gender neutral reader instead let me know and i'll come with up an whole new scenario!!)

minors/ageless blogs who interact will be blocked - read rules before interacting

what's a sheriff without his hat? (jason todd x female reader)

warnings: nsfw 18+ (no condom, pulling out - wrap it up y'all). angst if you squint.

...

"sheriff!"

you kicked in the doors to the saloon, gathering the attention of some of the patrons nearby. the place smelled of smoke and sweat, which was why you tried your best to avoid the spot altogether. however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so with sheriff todd making it his new hangout spot. the bastard could've picked a place with a bit more circulation as far as you were concerned.

"sheriff!" you yelled again, holding your dress up as your steps increased in speed. you saw the man in his booth with deputy harper and the rest of their little posse. they felt more like thugs to you.

"he's asleep," the woman, artemis, said to you as she opened her bottle of booze on the side of the table, subsequently chipping off some of the wood. you weren't sure if it was due to the poor structural integrity or her strength. probably both.

"i don't give a damn if he's neck deep in his grave," you spat, walking up to him. his seat was leaned back, which mean he was definitely awake. no one could balance their own weight like that and be unconscious. his hat was covering his face, some smoke coming out of the sides. asleep my ass.

you ripped the hat off of his face, bellows of cigarette smoke barreling out. his eyes shot open, the white slightly red from how he was abusing them just now. how he was still breathing, you didn't know. maybe the rumors about him coming back to life and being immortal were true.

"can i help you?" he glared, making an attempt to snatch his hat back from you. you quickly pulled back, making his seat lunge forward and his chest hit the table. you heard the deputy snort at the scene. "as my companion just told you, i'm asleep."

your glared right back at him, holding his hat behind your back. "you promised to keep those hooligans away from my place of business, todd."

"did i?" he asked you, giving you a fake grin. "well, i'm sorry little lady. it musta slipped my mind."

"don't get smart with me!" you snapped at him, the entire saloon getting quiet now. everyone was suddenly very interested in your little spat. "you're supposed to be protecting us and all you do is sit on your ass. i'm surprised you ain't collecting dust already."

"someone should sew that damn mouth of yours shut. maybe then we'd get some peace and quiet around here," he said back, getting a few chuckles from his little fan club. "give me my hat back."

you stared at him as your frustrations bubbled inside of you. that's all he had to say? his lack of concern for your issue just let you know what kind of man you already knew he was. he wanted his hat back? fat chance. you silently grinned at him before turning around and starting to walk out of the saloon. screw him and his stupid hat.

"hey!" he shouted as you continued walking off. you could feel the vibrations of his movement in the floorboards. he was coming after you. "get back here!"

you sped up, running out of the saloon and back towards the bathhouse. maybe if you got him off his sorry ass he'd be more willing to hear you out. that is, if the theft of his precious little hat didn't irritate him too much. if you weren't so preoccupied with outrunning him, you'd love to see the look on his face. you made it up the few step to the front door, where he quickly caught up with you. you pressed your back against it, securing the hat in between.

the sheriff glowered down at you, his hand pressed against the doorframe above you. you stared into each other's eyes, the sounds of your panting breath sinking up with one another. as much as he agitated you to no end, he was a very handsome man. it was the only thing that had kept you from shooting him in that pretty face.

"you've had your fun," he told you with a low tone, holding his other hand out. "now give it back."

you were surprised he hadn't just tossed you around and took it for himself. back when jas- the sheriff... first came to town, he seemed like a respectable man. you didn't cross paths very often, but every encounter with him was pleasant and memorable. he was kind, sometimes even a little flirty with you. he was a little rough around the edges. all those cowboys seemed to share that trait. but it was worse when when he returned after disappearing for a long time. you barely recognized him. it seemed he had been hardened by... whatever it was he experienced while he was gone. you didn't ask, nor did you care. he and his gaggle of dirty thugs had taken control of the town and it's been this way ever since.

"you don't deserve it," you decided to say, relishing in the instant gratification that came from seeing his expression change so quickly. oh, he was angry and you loved it. "you're no sheriff. you're an outlaw. you don't care about anybody but yourself."

you felt the hot air blow out of his nose and you had to fight back the smirk that was playing at your lips. you looked down and saw his hand moving towards your waist. the hell was he trying to do? before you could move or protest, you had fallen backwards into the bathhouse, right onto the freshly cleaned floor. he looked down at you from where he stood with a smile, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. you scrambled away from him, his hat still firmly in your grip. you got yourself off the floor, ready for whatever he was going to try.

instead of making his way towards you like you assumed he would, he looked around the place, taking in his surroundings. he eventually started walking in your direction. it was menacing watching him slowly approach you with an expressionless face. he stopped at the counter, looking down at the little bell. pressing his finger on it, it rung. he waited a few seconds before ringing it a few more times, looking over at you expectantly. your gaze narrowed as you made your way behind the counter.

"yes?" you asked with gritted teeth.

"i'd like to have a bath, please."

"... i'm sorry, sir, but we've had to close early today on the account of having no sheriff to protect my girls from harassment," you explained with a sickly sweet smile. "if we had a sheriff, which we don't, then maybe my girls would feel comfortable continuing to work. but since we don't, there's nothing i can do to help you. sorry for the inconvenience."

you saw a flicker of what appeared to be remorse on his face. he looked down at the counter, his finger tracing the grooves. "you're here, aren't you?"

"you must be out of your natural mind."

"why? because i'm requesting that the bathhouse worker give me a bath?" he asked with a snarky tone.

"that you're requesting anything of me after disregarding my concerns earlier."

he pulled some money out of his pocket, slamming it on the counter. "let's discuss it over a bath."

...

this was the last thing you wanted to be doing. you stared at the back of his head as he laid in the tub of warm water. you grabbed the rag from the bucket of soapy water, ringing it out and bringing it to his chest. as much as you wanted to be rough with him, your desire to not touch him at all prompted you to just be gentle instead. you heard him let out a content sigh as you scrubbed him down.

"you wanted to talk to me, didn't you? so talk," he said, resting his chin in his hand while you worked.

"i already told you what the problem was," you reminded him, lightly pressing against his back to get him to sit up. you scrubbed his back, watching as the dirt and grime disappeared, revealing his actual skin color.

"don't present a problem without a solution. what do you want me to do?"

"kill them."

he let out a hearty laugh at your suggestion, laying back down once you finished with his back. your fingers went to his hair as you poured some water of it, massaging it into his scalp. you could've sworn you felt him leaning into your touch. "isn't killing your clientele bad for business?"

"their existence is bad for business," you told him matter of factly, leaning down to wash his stomach. "i want them gone."

"now darling," he chuckled softly, turning his head towards you. his scruff brushed against your skin, making you shiver. "you know i can't do that. try again."

you could feel your face heating up, so you pulled away, washing his arms now. you dragged the rag along his muscles, revealing all kinds of scars as you cleaned him. "give them a stern talking to."

"about what?"

"respecting my girls."

"or else what?"

"use your imagination."

he hummed with a nod as you finished up with his upper body. "i can do that."

you threw the wet rag at his face, making him flinch. he dragged down his face, plopping into the bath water. "i'm not washing you below the belt. you can see yourself out."

...

after dramatically stomping your way up to your bedroom, you changed out of your clothes and into your nightgown. being around the sheriff was exhausting and you weren't going to waste anymore time on him. your only hope was that he'd stay true to his word. as you were getting ready to retire for the night, you heard a knock at your door.

"i want my damn hat back, y/n. i'll kick the door down if i have to," you heard him say through the door. you went and grabbed it off of your dresser, putting it on your head and looking at yourself in the mirror.

"i think i'll keep it for myself, actually."

"you have five seconds to open this door."

out of frustration, he start twisting the knob. unbeknownst to him, it was never locked to begin with. he opened the door, surprise on his face as he let himself in. he looked over at you, the same expression on his face, but for a different reason now.

"take it off."

"i actually quite like it, so i don't think i will."

he must have been fed up with you at this point, because he started approaching you with purpose in his step. you stepped back some, slipping on the length of your gown and falling back on the bed. the hat had fallen off of your head, onto the floor. instead of going around to pick it up, he found himself on top of you. the two of you held eye contact, but it was different from earlier.

"why do you do these things to me?" he asked you softly. "i'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

"i don't like you."

"you used to like me."

that may have been true once upon a time, but it wasn't the case now. the person you used to like didn't exist anymore. he was replaced with a hollow shell of a man and you wanted nothing to do with him.

his thumb made its way to the corner of your mouth and your heart started racing. "i still like you," he said with a small frown, his fingers tracing your jaw and moving down your neck. "i think deep down you still like me."

"no," you responded without missing a beat. his hand was on your chest, feeling the shockwaves of your pulse underneath. "i don't."

"i think you do."

you wanted to badly to smack him in his face but his response was different than you expected. the snark and smugness you were expecting was replaced with a tenderness you were unfamiliar with. or, more accurately, had forgotten he was capable of conveying. he sounded honest. genuine. like he really believed what he was saying. or wanted to, at least.

that's what caused you to let your guard down and let him in. his nose rubbed against yours before he leaned down, giving you a kiss. his large hand cupped your cheek while his other one lifted you off of your back and into his lap. you parted from him and he looked at you with a little smile. "see?"

"that doesn't count," you objected, despite not moving out of your new position. you actually found yourself getting comfortable, placing your legs on both sides of his lap. you could feel his erection growing beneath you.

"sure it does," he insisted, grabbing his hat and putting it back on your head. he laid back on the bed, starting to slowly undo his belt. you didn't dare look down at what he was doing, too stubborn to give him the full satisfaction, but you didn't stop him either. you felt your own arousal becoming stronger. it was hard to ignore when you didn't have any underwear on to begin with.

you soon felt his tip rubbing against your slickness and you sucked in a gasp, getting his attention. he stopped moving, looking up at you for approval to continue. still feeling stubborn, you just looked away and felt him slip inside of you. his hands moved up your thighs and to your hips, repositioning the skirt of your gown. it allowed the two of you to reserve a bit of modesty in your compromising state.

the first movements were shallow and slow, as you were both trying to adjust. it didn't take long for you both to find a rhythm. soft pants and moans came from you as you rode him, his hips thrusting upwards so you weren't doing all the work. you had been resisting from touching him, but as he bounced you on his lap, his hand went to yours. his fingers grazed yours, sloppily laced together as he brought it towards his mouth. he planted a kiss on your palm, placing it on his heart.

shifting your weight, you pressed your hand firmly against his chest and he picked up the pace, his hips snapping up into you. your arm was starting to grow tired and he picked up on it. he sat up, pulling you into him. his face rested in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning against it while his hands slid up your back, one at the top of your spine and the other at your ribs. you continued rocking against him while his mouth made quick work of your neck, sucking at the junction between it and your shoulder.

your moans became embarrassingly loud. you were just glad no one else was around to hear them. jason kissed up the base of your neck until he met your lips, swallowing up all of your sounds. you felt his hat slipping off of your head and you both reached back to catch it, his hand on top of yours. the two of you smiled into the kiss as he readjusted it for you.

feeling your release coming up, you slipped your fingers down to your clit, teasing it to help push yourself over the edge. jason moaned against your lips as he pulled out of you, making a mess on your nightgown. you were too blinded by your own pleasure to yell at him as you continued rubbing yourself. you felt his fingers probing at your entrance, thrusting in and out until you came all over them.

"sorry about the stain," he breathed out, pulling the skirt up in an effort to keep it from touching you. his other hand worked to untie the bow in the back, making it easier for you to get it off. he grabbed his hat from off your head and used it to cover his face while you slipped out of the gown. you set it aside, pulling your blankets up to cover yourself. "are you decent?"

"yes," you answered as he lowered it, giving you a grin before putting it back on your head. your eyes peered upwards at the brim. "i thought you wanted it back."

"i'll come get it later. there are a few men i need to give a stern talking to first," he said, fixing his pants and getting up. "you'll be here when i get back, won't you?"

you raised your brow at him, chuckling. "it's not like i have somewhere else to be."

"i'll be back soon," he winked before walking over to the door. "oh, and darling?"

"...yes?"

"leave that on for me, alright?"

#jason todd x reader #askbox

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 1

a/n: I've had this recurring dream of this plot but it’s mostly in bits and pieces and I had the gruesome thought of sitting down and writing it. Time to write everything I remember and make it stretch into a piece of writing. Hope you enjoy!

playlist here 

The receptionist called your name and alerted you that he was ready. Of course, the he in question was Tim Drake, the man of Wayne industries. It was intimidating to even think about, but you got out of your seat. You had to see it through. 

You adjusted your pants a bit, the wrinkles from sitting had probably already set in. 

The pretty receptionist walked until he stopped in front of a door. He reached out and opened it for you with a smile on his face. You thanked him and stepped into the room.

“Hello,” 

Tim Drake looked up from the desk of paper work and greeted you. 

“Right, Mr.Drake I’ve been told to deliver this letter to you.” You said.

At that moment your hands fish through the bag slung across your shoulder. The only piece of paper finds its way into your hand and you take it out. You reached over and handed it to him.

Tim took the paper out of your hands.

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” he asked.

You shook your head, “I’m just the messenger- or well I knew the person who wanted you to have it but not the contents.”

Tim nodded. 

“I’ve actually gotta get going, I took my lunch break to deliver that.” you said.

“Oh, sorry to inconvenience-” “On no, trust me I needed to get out of the office anyways.”

You waved your hand goodbye and headed out the way you came. Out of Tim Drake’s office, past the pretty receptionist and into the elevator. All the way down to the main floor and out the front doors which were squeaky clean glass. 

As you walked up the block away from the building, your phone began to ring. You took it out of your back pocket and clicked answer before you checked the caller ID. 

“You answered.”

A voice that you never wanted to hear again. A voice that made you feel guilty for even thinking the previous thought. But the convolutions weren’t really the priority. The call was.

It stopped you in your tracks. You almost collided with another body on the street but you caught yourself before it could happen.

“I told you to not call unless it was an emergency-”

“It is.”

“An emergency concerning who specifically?”

“The only person you seem to care about from your past life.”

“What’s the situation?”

-

Tim Drake could be summarized as multiple things, the most important one being tired. When he gets home from patrol he doesn’t actually head to bed like a normal person. It’s Tim. His laptop previously open to some specs on a case. And his favorite mug is almost empty.

His head rests on the keyboard. This doesn’t do any damage to anything he’s working on as the screen had timed out. 

This is how Bruce finds him. 

The older man worked quietly and quickly in placing Tim in an actual bed and under the covers. After, he headed over to this desk to close his laptop. As his hands pushed the screen down he caught a glimpse of an envelope. With his name on it.

He picks it up and looks back at his son. Then back at the envelope. Thinking about why Tim would have a letter addressed to him. His eyes scan the desk more and he finds another envelope turned over. His hands pick it up and it’s addressed to Tim.

An envelope within an envelope 

Bruce takes his letter and quietly leaves the room. 

It’s a few moments before he opens it. He goes downstairs into the library to clear out the mess he had mad earlier in the day. And he talks with Alfred about an ongoing situation he needs his immeasurable knowledge on. It’s after that conversation has ended that Bruce opens the envelope. 

He recognizes the handwriting immediately. One that he didn’t know he could remember for so long. One that belonged to someone he loved dearly, a very long time ago. Before he had sons, before he dawned the cowl. He doesn’t even think he had a cowl back when he was with-

His eyes finally glaze over the words. 

Dear Bruce,

I know it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken. And I know it’s because we both decided to keep our distance. But I know when we had that conversation 20 something years ago, I was the one to bring it up. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing you to begin with.

First I want to apologize to you. I stepped away from you, from us because I was scared. I was only twenty something with my head in the clouds. And you were right by my side and it felt incredible. 

But I was knocked out of the sky when I found out I was pregnant. I had a child- it’s yours. We have a child. Or we had. If you’re reading this it means that I have passed on. In between then and writing this letter I’ve had the time to actually think about the decision to go our separate ways.

In terms of me, I had to try and figure out if our child was a thing I wanted in my life. (Obviously you know the answer to this). In terms of you, I didn’t want to tie you down. You were doing great things and on the way to do so much more. You were only twenty five, you had your whole life ahead of you.

However that shouldn’t have been my decision alone, and for that I am truly sorry. Because now you have to find out this way and so does our child, and I’m not there to help either of you.

So I’ve decided to help you out a bit. This letter is supposed to be double enveloped- to your youngest son and then to you. I hope this letter finds you. Tim will have already met our child and not even known. You have a choice here to reach out. 

I can’t write in words how sorry I am that I kept this secret. And that you’re learning it this way-

Bruce’s eyes look up from the letter and latch onto the bookcase in front of him. He lets out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding since seeing the distinct letters of his high school sweetheart. 

“Father.” 

He turns around.

There in the doorway of the library, is Damian. 

“Yes son.”

“Richard called, he is arriving in Gotham in the morning.” 

“Good. Thank you for letting me know.”

Damian nods his head once. And with that he leaves. His son, his biological child is not alone. He was never alone with Dick, Jason and Tim. But this, this changes things. 

#dc x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Tim Drake x reader #Dick Grayson x reader #Damian Wayne x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #PAST LIVES