Me: you need to finish what you've started, and get all of your stuff that got deleted when your computer broke back into their previous state
Creativity demon: fic where someone says something transphobic about Jason and the entire batfam shows up to the next gala in gnc outfits, they all act very confused if anyone mentions it.
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The thing is, Jason’s gender presentation as a motorcycle-tough guy is part of a costume, it was constructed as part of his Red Hood persona to project a specific image (if you’re gonna take over the criminal underground, ya gotta look the part). This is never stated explicitly in canon, but I’m intuiting it from the way his style of dress changes once he becomes Red Hood. Sometimes I wonder about how aware of this he is, like does he consciously view it that way or was it more of a subconscious thing? Most people are not tapped into the “gender presentation is not innate and is a performance” meta so it could go either way. I’ve seen some people compare it to the “over exaggerated on purpose” masculinity that some masc gay men present themselves with, and I do love that interpretation also
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//warnings// 16+, nsfw, mdni
//contents// transmasc reader, jason todd, semi-public
//synopsis// Jason can't handle it when you sent him photos, no matter what they are. - wc: 662
//full fic on ao3// wc: 1.7k
Jason absolutely loves it when you send him pictures of yourself. It does not matter what he was doing before, he will drop everything he’s doing to look at what you sent him.
This time, he’s sitting on a rooftop, waiting for something to happen on his patrol. It seems like a slow night tonight anyway so he pops a squat on a ledge of a random apartment building. He takes off his helmet revealing his secondary mask just so he could breathe better. Not that the smell of Gotham was any better than his own breath. He took out his phone and started scrolling out of boredom before a notification came up. A single photo from you. How enticing.
He opens the message, jaw almost hitting the floor in awe. It’s just a simple gym pic but holy shit. Your sweating frame in a loose grey tank and black gym shorts, nothing special but to him it’s everything. He could see your scars ever so slightly through the tank, it’s driving him wild that he can’t touch them, touch you.
His phone buzzes again, another pic. This time it’s more sensuous, a mirror pic with you in the bathroom of the gym change room with only a towel around your waist. Water droplets racing down your bare chest and the glass a little bit steamed. He feels his length start to grow just from your semi-scandalous photos.
He quickly glances around to see if anyone would be able to see him, quiet night after all. He starts to unbuckle his cargo pants and reach into them to pull out his half hard cock. He started to pump lazily as he searched the pic of you for the little details about you that would push his climax to come sooner.
He was rudely interrupted by another notification, yet another pic. It seems like you had just gotten home because you were in bed now wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Jason just couldn’t handle it, the sight was too much. Your perfect body just laying there, begging him to ruin it. Beseeching him to rip the boxers off your supple ass. He lets out a small and breathy moan as his dick jerks in his fist and lets out streams of cum, falling onto his chest and stomach.
“Fuck… now lookit whacha did.” He remarks, hurriedly trying to wipe the cum off of his kevlar suit, picking it out of the grooves. Even though he’s mad that he’s going to be picking bits of cum out for weeks, he still smiles knowing that all you had to do is send a pic and he's on his knees for you.
He picked himself up while checking the time. Seeing his shift is over, he hops onto his motorcycle and rushes home to you, hopefully still in those boxers that he so desperately wants to rip off of you himself.
Walking through the door with immaculate struggle due to the amount of excitement, he calls out for you to make sure you’re home.
“Upstairs, Jay!” you say from upstairs, obviously. He runs up the stairs, skipping every second step just to get to you sooner. He discards his jacket on the floor near the bedroom door as he shuts it. He turns around to see you still in just the boxers from the picture. You’re on your phone but looking up at him with a smile. “Hey.” you whisper.
“Hey.” he whispers back, walking to you, removing his gear and just leaving it all on the floor. He was left with only his cargo pants before he leaned down to kiss you. “You have no idea what you did to me, sending those pics, pretty boy.”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“You really wanna know how I came all over my suit on a rooftop, mid-Gotham?”
“I had no idea.” you say with a smirk, knowing exactly just what you do to him.
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Lately I've seen a number of posts written by people who are frustrated by the expression of Jason Todd being female coded. And I feel like there's some misunderstandings here.
Honestly I'm assuming the anger about binary gender codings like "jason todd is female coded" is coming from people who are also queer. And I can see why people would feel frustrated by the simplification and what seems like unnecessary gendering of trauma. Hell, maybe it's even invalidating to your gender and your trauma. That's fair.
Personally I believe gender is a social construct. No emotion or situation belongs to any one gender. However. As a trans person. I've had to confront that my reality is shaped by the binary gender I am assigned. While I reject being "female coded", the situations I've been in and the trauma I've gone through has been severely influenced by being AFAB. Social constructs do shape our reality.
Me and my cis brother grew up with the same parents. But I faced more physical abuse from my father and higher expectations from my mother. He got an autism diagnosis and arguably faced and internalized ableism his whole life, I got told I make too much eyecontact to be autistic. Both of our lives and hardships have been shaped by the gender we were assigned.
To me the expression "jason todd is female coded" means that every attempt Jason has made to express his pain has been met by people trying to have a philosophical argument about the nature of man and second chances and justice like they are not literally talking to his reanimated body. That kind of blatant disregard of your pain and tonedeaf request to be reasonable, that pressure to return to the rules of your father and the rules of a patriarchal society despite how living under those systems put you in harm's way in the first place, the lack of concern about your feelings of safety. I think that's an experience you are thrust into when it gets decided for you that you're female.
And personally, I use Jason Todd being female-coded as a way for me to reclaim my trauma while recognizing it doesn't affect my gender. Jason is a guy. I'm a guy.
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