#Todd has heard this joke many times before

[kimberly-spirits13]

Break Ups and Make Ups

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: Jason breaks up with you to keep you safe only to get saved by you a few weeks later.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Jason being angsty

Word Count: 3233

Jason couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in a bed that felt too large and dreamed of futures he lost from his grasp. Every night was the same. He’d spend his energy patrolling to forget you, drag himself through his apartment, and then come to the realization that he was entirely alone the second the AC hit in the face. What made him even angrier was that it wasn’t even your fault, not entirely at least. To Jason, you were the epitome of perfection and had done nothing wrong. You were meant to be protected at all costs and Jason was sure that he could never protect you when you were with him. Every body he saw, every victim of Gotham he encountered had your face. Maybe it was a fragment of his delusion that caused him to worry so intensely, but to him, it came out of a place of real possibility. 

That’s why he broke it off with you when things started getting serious. All he really remembers from that day was you screaming something he doesn’t remember (or tries to forget) at him and telling him to leave. It was the worst day of his life, and he would have died a thousand times over again to avoid it ever happening. He’d never seen you so upset before and hated that it was because of him. Every night, this was what he saw before he fell asleep, and once sleep had finally taken over there was no rest from his regret. He’d dream of all the futures you could have had together, bringing newborns home from the hospital, you, walking down the aisle with tears flowing from everyone’s eyes, and the endless possibilities of bliss that he threw away that night. 

                  That was what was keeping Jason up last night. He was exhausted, struggling to stay awake as the cycle of regret repeated every time he shut his eyes. 

                  “You alright Jaybird?” Dick asked, standing in the mirror adjusting his tie.

                  “Fine.” Jason gruffed in response.

                  Jason was sitting in one of the many armchairs in the manor staring at the window, brooding. Usually, he’d hear your laughter with the girls from down the hallway, joking about whatever appealed to them at the time. Tonight was different and all he heard were the voices of his sisters, sometimes bringing you up, lamenting the loss of your presence. 

                  “Do you think she’ll show up eventually?” Steph asked, “I mean she kind of has to for press.”

                  “I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t” Jason heard Barbra reply, causing him to cringe.

                  He was in the wrong for breaking it off with you. Jason saw that now, regretting the pride that came in with thinking it was only up to him to keep you safe, or that you couldn’t play some part in it. To your credit, you’d survived Gotham for so many years before meeting him, even as a socialite. Why did he think it would be any different? 

                  “You know, it would be worth just talking to her.” Dick said, “If that’s what you’re brooding over. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re brooding over.” Dick said.

                  “It’s none of your business.” 

                  “Yea, not really, but you’re acting like you’ve been tossing up the idea of swan diving off Gotham Bridge.” Dick chided, “So maybe you should talk to her. Sounds like she didn’t want to break up anyways, so you’d probably have a chance.”

                  “She’d kill me.” Jason replied coldly.

                  Dick didn’t say anything in response, but Jason knew what he was thinking, “Yeah, and right now, you’d deserve it.” 

                  When the car pulled up to the carpet at the front of the gala, it was all Jason could do to not sink and melt into the floor. There would be plenty of questions from reporters asking where you were. It had been three weeks since he dumped you and the internet had been stirring. 

                  “Just walk past them.” Dick said, “And don’t beat anyone”

                  “No promises.” Jason answered, stepping out of the car, and giving his hand to Cassandra to help her out.

                  Cass nodded at him giving him enough signal of, “I’ll walk with you.” 

                  Reporters and fans shouted at the family. Jason wished that anyone else was the center of attention, but instead all the questions were centered around his relationship with you. 

                  “Where’s Y/N?” 

                  “Are you and Y/N still dating?”

                  “Why haven’t we seen you together?”                   Bruce managed to shove in front of Vikki Vale to protect Jason from her invasive questions and everyone else made their way inside. The lights of the flashing cameras faded through the crowd inside the gala. Jason felt like all eyes were on him. It was one of the first times that he felt like hiding in a corner, wrapped up in a ball at one of these events. Women with hair overdone and plunging V-neck dresses approached him, assuming that he was no longer off the table. It’s not like they cared when we still dating you whether it was appropriate to hit on him. 

                  If you were here, you two would be making fun of everyone here acting like they were on top of the world instead of the true trash of Gotham, but you weren’t, and now he was awkwardly standing next to Dick ignoring the conversation he was engaged in. Jason was pretty sure they were talking about something related to Wayne Enterprises, but he focused on the bitter cold at his side where you were meant to be on his arm. You’d be making some comment about an increase in recent sales for some company WE were working with, and he’d be staring at you wondering how he got so lucky. Now he stares at the floor wondering how he got so stupid.

                  “Dude, you look like a dog that just got its favorite toy taken.” Dick said once the person he was talking to left.

                  Jason left out a gruff in response. He didn’t have a response to that. Instead, Jason was counting down the minutes until he could leave and go crash in his apartment, though, he wasn’t sure that would be any better. Twirling a toothpick from some fancy snack he just endured, he thought about what he’d do if he tried to make it up with you.

                  “Seriously, go home, take a shower, and call her.” Dick urged, “We all know she liked you; you’re just going to have to explain a few things.”

                  “She probably hates me.” Jason answered, running his hand across his face, “I can’t blame her though.”

                  “Maybe she hates you, but maybe she’s just waiting for you to get your head out of your butt.”

                  Before Jason could respond to that, he heard glass shattering in the building and gun shots echoing. He looked towards Bruce, trying to gage whether they would spring into action. Bruce was busy ushering guests out of the building and not paying too much attention to where everyone else was. Dick and Jason ducked for cover, trying to see where the shots were being fired from. As they scanned the room, they saw a dark gas creeping towards the table where they were situated and there was nowhere to run.

                  “Tim’s still on the mission with his team.” Dick said

                  “Can’t blow our cover.” Jason responded, “Isn’t there that new vigilante running around town that Bruce has been trying to pretend he isn’t working with?”

                  “And you think that will help?” Dick snorted,

                  “You’re right. We’re screwed.” 

                  You were currently speeding through the streets of Gotham, riding at full speed towards the hotel where the gala was tonight. Bruce had asked you to avoid it since all the others were on a mission or at the gala. It was a precaution he had in place just in case something happened. You were still bitter about what happened with Jason. He was an idiot. Jason thought you had no idea of his persona as Red Hood. He had no idea that you were the recent vigilante in Gotham, Batman took in for your skills. Here you thought Jason would be a better detective. 

                  Flying towards the police lights, you pulled your bike near Gordon’s patrol car and jumped off, helmet in hand. 

                  “What do you have?” You asked.

                  “We’re waiting for Batman.” Gordon replied, “Hostages have been released other than the Waynes.”                   “Batman’s not coming.” You countered, “He’s on a mission with the League.”

                  “He never told me about that.” 

                  “You think he’d tell you about a classified mission with the League?” You lied, “I’m all you have, so get over it.” 

                  “You really are with the Bat.” Gordon sighed, “Bane sent his men to capture the Waynes and is demanding a ransom of $1 billion.”

                  “He does realize that most of that is kept in separate investments, right?” You mumbled.

                  “Apparently he doesn’t” “He’s got them in an east river warehouse and will begin executions at 12am. First one to go is Jason Todd.” 

                  You looked at the time blaring on his phone, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead, “Two hours.” 

                  “Surely he doesn’t think we could retrieve $1 billion in two hours.” Gordon responded.

                  “I don’t care what he thinks as long as you convince him that the money is coming.” You said, “I’ll recover the Waynes.” “Keep him ignorant, it’s our best option.” 

                  The drive felt like hours even though it was thirty minutes through the traffic. All the while you were thinking about what Gordon said, “First to go is Jason Todd.” You were still upset with him, but that didn’t negate the fac that you loved him. Jason breaking it off with you felt like someone tore your soul out of you. You were pretty sure once you explained everything to him, he’d understand, but you didn’t have the energy to track him down and convince him to listen to you. Serving around a slower driver, you sped onto the side road that led straight into the warehouses. Bane has a usual point of operation here that you were sure he was staking out in. He wasn’t the most intelligent guy on the block, but it was too risky for the special ops team to come flying into the building with such a threat. 

                  You haphazardly parked your bike and sprinted towards the warehouse you knew they’d be in. The comm in your ear began buzzing and you clicked the button to turn on the feed. 

                  “He’s about to start executing.” Gordon said.

                  “What? There’s still an hour and a half left?” You whisper yelled, “Did your men screw it up?” 

                  “Haven’t found out yet, Bane has demanded that the time be dropped.” “Are you in there?”

                  “Almost, how much time do I have?” 

                  “Fifteen minutes.” Gordon replied. 

                  “When I knock him out, I expect that you put him in the most uncomfortable cell in Black Gate.” 

                  “Without a second thought.” Gordon said, confidence lacing his voice.

                  There were 10 guards outside the warehouse heavily armed. Bane must have been juiced up which meant he was more confident in not needing security, just someone to collect the money and bring it inside. If you were on your own, you’d probably kill them all and let GCPD handle it, but you were in Batman’s turf and had to respect his bounds. Instead, you opted to tranquilize them and leave the clean-up to GCPD to save time.

                  “I’ve got 10 unconscious out front, make sure they’re in cars before they wake up.” You said, “Don’t come in with sirens and lights on.” “I’m going in”

                  “Understood.” Gordon responded quickly. 

                  Going to the roof, you looked a window down to see Bane dragging Jason with a bag over his head, to the front of a room where a camera was. There was one other man with a mask on holding a rifle pointed to where Jason was now kneeling. He ripped the bag off Jason’s head to show reveal him with a busted lip and a fresh bruise appearing on his jaw. He must have said something that rubbed one of the recruits the wrong way. Your heart began to race as you watched in horror. With your boot, you kicked the glass once and watched as the shards fell to the ground. From below, Jason heard the crashing of the glass and didn’t look up in case it was falling on him. A loud pop echoed through the building and the sound of metal hitting the floor sounded in his ears. Another shot was fired and after a few seconds, the man standing behind him stumbled backwards and finally fell. 

                  With the immediate threat to Jason neutralized, you jumped down, landing on Bane’s shoulders. 

                  “You picked the wrong day Bane. I’m not in the mood” you said.

                  “I’ll kill you all!” He screamed, reaching his arms around his back, trying to grab you off him. 

                  “Is that the most intelligent thing you can think of right now, big guy?” You laughed.    

                  Reaching into your utility belt, you pulled out a large knife and positioned to cut into the tubes that pumped his venom. Before you could do that, Bane reached around and grabbed your leg. With a grunt you were thrown to the ground but recovered quickly. Jumping back up, you ran towards him, launching yourself in the air to kick his jaw. A tooth flew past you and blood began to run out of his mouth. These were the moments you were grateful for steel-toed boots. Bane stumbled for a moment before regaining his strength and barreling towards you. You ran back from him, giving yourself space and leading him to a place where you could get back on top of him. He started reaching his arms back again causing you to glide your knife over his arm. Blood was drawn again, and he recoiled in pain. Taking this opportunity, you ran the knife through the pipes, venom spewing out everywhere. He fell back right as you flung yourself off him and out of his reach. Quickly, his muscles started constricting and falling back into their regular form. It was a disgusting sight to and you found yourself grimacing at the sight. 

                  In the commotion of it all, you weren’t aware that the camera had knocked over. Bruce and Dick were still sitting patiently, waiting for you to uncuff them. 

                  “Target neutralized, I’ll bring out the Waynes and Bane.” You said into the comm.

                  “Got it, ETA five minutes.” Gordon answered 

                  You grabbed the keys that were hanging on the wall next to where Bane had been standing and began to uncuff Bruce and Dick. 

                  “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” You asked, a smirk evident in your voice despite your mask.

                  “You know it.” Dick said.

                  “Thanks for the rescue.” Bruce stood up as you helped Dick off the floor, “We can drag Bane out. It seems you’ve got some explaining to do.” 

                  Jason was sitting and staring at the wall, contemplating his life. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could bet it was something about being glad he broke it off with you after something like this happening. You watched for a minute as Bruce and Dick dragged Bane out of the room, giving you two a moment.

                  “Jason.” You said, trying to get him to turn around.

                  “You gonna uncuff me?” He asked.

                  “I was getting there.” You knelt behind him and unlocked the cuff.

                  The clank of metal quietly rang out. An awkward silence fell, and you weren’t sure what to do so instead you started assessing injuries. You moved to kneel in front of him and examined his lip and the bruise that was getting darker by the second.

                  “Anything feel broken?” you asked.

                  “No.” He moved away from your touch, something that hurt your heart, “Who even are you? Batman’s new recruit?” 

                  “Jason- do you?” You huffed and began to pull off your mask, “You’re an idiot.” 

                  Once you had your mask off, he started at you, lost for words. So many emotions ran through his eyes, confusion and then realization being the two most prominent ones.

                  “Y/N?” He asked bewildered, “How did you keep this from me?”

                  “I figured you knew, Red Hood.” You said, tucking your mask under your arm.

                  “You knew about that?” 

                  “You’re not very inconspicuous about it, Jason.” You laughed, “I mean every time patrol ended, Red Hood would head in the direction of your apartment and then you’d drop by thirty minutes later after taken a shower and typically with some sort of wound dressing. Plus, it helps that I went to the cave a few times.”                   “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, hurt lingering in his voice.

                  “I realized you probably didn’t know anything about it and planned to talk to you about it but you kind of dumped me before I got the chance.” Your smile faded and was instead replaced with a stoic look. Jason knew you were upset, “What do you think I was yelling at you for?” 

                  “I thought you were just yelling because you were mad.” He answered, shame now replacing his look of hurt.

                  “Yeah, I’m pissed with you. I feel like you thought I can’t handle myself, even if you didn’t mean to come across that way. I was trying to get you to stop so we could talk about it. You were bound to get in and get out.” Tears began swelling in your eyes and you quickly wiped them away. 

                  “Y/N I’m so sorry.” He said.

                  “Yea, so am I.” Your head hung low for a second before you picked yourself back up, not wanting to break down in front of Jason right now.

                  “No, it’s not your fault.” Jason grabbed your hands, “This has been the worst few weeks of my entire life. I can’t live without you. Day and night, you’re the only thing I think of. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t do anything right now. I’d rather die a thousand times over than not have you.” 

                  At this point you started crying and Jason grabbed you, pulling you into his chest. You cried into his suit that was already ruined by the dirt and tears from tonight. He was crying to, no matter how much he didn’t want to be.

                  “I’m so, so sorry Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just thought this was best for you. I didn’t want you ending up hurt or dead or- I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”                   “Jason” You laughed through tears, “I’m a Gotham CEO, I was already unsafe by myself.” 

                  “I didn’t think about that.” He said, making you laugh more. 

                  “Do you think you’d have me back?” Jason asked, a now solemn look coming across his face.

                  “Yes, absolutely.” 

                  Jason pulled you into a kiss that felt like it lasted forever and once it was over, he rested his head in the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

                  “I missed you so much.” He said. 

                  “I did too.” 

                  Jason’s family was going to be ecstatic about this. They probably weren’t going to let him live down you realizing he was Red Hood before he realized you were a vigilante.

#dc x reader #dc comics #dc characters #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagine #jason todd imagine

[chaanderperry]

Todd and Neil go on a date after school to a chinese restaurant. Neil then says the funniest joke he just thought of.

Neil: So you’re telling me, (begins to giggle)

Todd: Don’t say it Neil.

Neil: (Not able to hear him because of his laughter) A shrimp fried this rice?! (Is dying of laughter)

Todd: 😐

Neil: (Confused as to why he isn’t laughing)

#anderperry #dps fandom #neil perry #todd anderson #dps #dead poets society #todd x neil #goofy neil #Todd has heard this joke many times before #anderperry au

[hanluex]

Hi! I loved the fic you posted about Jason today, it's so purely sweet 😍 Jason Todd has been may kind of secret fictional crush since I watched Titans and having someone writing for him is a amazing! I saw you were asking for some fic ideas for our fave bird boy, so here I am!

Maybe a little story in which he cames bleeding after a fight to the tower and fem!reader (maybe she can be a superhero with healing powers) takes care of his wounds?

Jason half-joking teases her saying that it's actually comfortable to have her so close wanting to help him and this later leads to a fluffy confession

Lots of love <3<3<3

♡ I PROMISE — JASON TODD

jason x fem!reader | wc : 0.7k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, friends to lovers (?), mentions of injuries, use of petnames, crying | loki's lines — ahh, i was super excited upon receiving this! thank you, anonie! i love you loads! stay safe and take care <3

“y/n … it’s me.”

your brows furrowed as soon as you heard the familiar voice, feeling your heart beating in your throat.

it was almost like clockwork at this point; jason getting hurt because of his recklessness when he’s fighting crime and returning to the tower so he can get his wounds treated by you.

after all, your healing powers came in handy, especially at times like this.

you took a deep breath, walking towards your door. just like you had expected, jason todd leant against the doorframe, forcing a smile upon seeing you.

your eyes scanned his appearance, gritting your teeth as you saw the various wounds scattered all over his body.

his outfit was in tatters and soaked in his own blood, showing exactly how much he had gone through during the fight.

yet he stood before you, a smile on his face, because he knew you’d heal him back to health — just like the other hundred times you’ve done so

“gosh, sweetheart!" jason exclaimed, smirking. “at least invite me inside before checking me out.”

you turned on your heel, walking to your bed and sitting on the edge, waiting for the brunet to take his seat in front of you.

the lack of speech from your end didn’t spark any attention from jason, who was kind of used to you being quieter than quiet on some days.

without another word, you gently lifted his arm, using your free hand to channel your energy onto his wounds, slowly working on healing him.

“i’m honestly glad you are here, just willing to help me,” he confessed. “like my very own personal nurse, in a sense,” he joked, chuckling lightly.

you nodded in a daze. “yeah,” you muttered quietly, your hands shaking as you tried to heal his wounds.

why does it always have to be like this? why does he depend on me so much?

you couldn’t help but let the thoughts wander through your mind, your breaths getting uneven as you struggled to focus on your healing energy due to your emotions going haywire.

“… so yeah, that’s pretty much what—" jason paused, realizing you weren’t paying attention to his words. “princess? you alright?”

“mhm.” you nodded, raising your hand to work on the wounds on his face. “i’m fine.”

but no matter how many times you repeated that phrase to yourself, upon seeing how scuffed jason’s face was, you struggled to hold back the tears that pooled in your eyes.

why would you do this to yourself? why would you let this happen?

the brunet noticed your glossy eyes, unable to get a word out before you burst into tears, burying your face in your hands as you sobbed.

“y/n? what happened?” he asked, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “sweetheart, talk to me.”

you stifled your cries as jason held your face. “i don’t like doing this. i don’t like seeing you get hurt so badly.” he softly wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“oh?” his voice was quiet, barely audible. “i can always ask dick or gar for help. i didn’t think i’d be troubling you.”

you shook your head. “it’s nothing like that, jason,” you denied, letting him know he misunderstood you.

“then why are you crying?”

“because i care about you!”

the brunet winced, surprised, as you raised your voice. he opened his mouth softly, unsure of the words he wanted to say. “but why?” he asked, his voice just above a whisper.

“because i like you, birdbrain,” you confessed, sniffling. “i like you so much that i hate seeing you hurt.”

jason only smiled to himself, warmly pulling you into his embrace. “i like you too,” he added. “i like you so much that i run back to you every time i get hurt just so i can see your face,” he admitted.

the only reason jason todd always had the energy to make it back to the tower, no matter how badly hurt he was, was because he knew you’d be there, waiting for him.

“you don’t have to get hurt to see my face, you know?” you frowned. “please, try not to get hurt, okay? promise me, yeah?”

jason todd smiled as he nodded, pulling you into his embrace once again before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“i promise, sweetheart. i promise to take better care of myself, so you won’t have to see me hurt like that ever again.”

taglist : @maverick-wingman (to be added, please send a dm or ask!)

#[📝] works #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #titans jason #jason todd imagines #titans imagines #titans red hood #red hood imagines #red hood scenarios #red hood x reader #red hood drabbles #titans drabbles #jason todd scenarios #jason todd #titans tv show #titans scenarios #red hood

[hearts4golbach]

Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader.)

part 16.

-

"but you made me want to plan out my last days on earth eating you."

-

I sat in my bed, debating which outfit I should choose. I looked at both options, taking into consideration which one sal would like more. I eventually made my decision and changed out of my pajamas. I felt excitement built up in my chest as I heard my mother call me. I made quick movements out of my bedroom, wanting to avoid being late because of her.

My mom sat in the living room alone, her eyes burned with panic and worry. "y/n, something bad has happened."

I felt the blood drain from my face. "what? is it dad?" my thoughts raced as panic started to set in.

"your father is fine." her forehead creased. she set her head in her hand. "we have to move. I don't want you to worry. we'll be fine. we just have to leave these apartments for our own safety." her eyes glistened. "I'm sorry I have to take you away again, hun. it's just right up the street, though. you can ride your bike up here every day if you must." she gave me a small smile.

"but we're happy here? we cant just uproot again, even if it's just right up the street. it's not fair." I tried to reason as I shook my head. I felt my face heat up with anger.

"you're not seeing the bigger picture, y/n. it's a must, it's for our own safety."

I dug my finger nails into my palms. "okay, so tell me why we're in danger."

"i- you just won't understand. you're too young." she brushed me off.

"thats not fair." I said sternly.

"you need to pack."

I turned away, fighting off tears so I wouldn't ruin my makeup. "I'm going to Larry's birthday party."

"that's fine." she muttered, turning back to her planner.

I rolled my eyes to myself and slipped on my converse. I ran down to Larry's apartment, my mood completely ruined. I continued to fight the urge to cry. I felt like I was being dramatic. I was moving a block away, why was I so upset?

"yooo, y/n!" Larry cheered, wearing a cheesy party hat and a smiley face pin that says 'birthday boy!'

"I want a birthday boy pin." I teased, pushing his chest to remove him from the doorway."

"someone's a little cranky." Larry retorted.

"someone needs to shut the fuck up." I rolled my eyes.

"were meeting everyone else at the place." he mentioned, brushing his fingers through his tangled hair.

"alright." I flashed him a fake smile.

Lisa walked out of her room in mom jeans and a white tee. "hiya, y/n! how are you?" her bright eyes met mine.

"I'm okay, Ms. johnson." I hugged her. "you?"

"oh, I'm just dandy, y/n. my little boys growing up too fast." her eyes watered.

I hummed in response, following them out the door to their car. majority of the ride was spent listening to Larry ramble about he was going to kick my ass in lazer tag. all I managed to do was roll my eyes at him.

ash, sal, Todd, and Neil were all waiting outside of the building. "well, you're awfully early!" Lisa called cheerfully, locking the car.

"we wanted to watch you give Larry his birthday spankings!" ash hollered, walking over to larry and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"I think you're the only one who wants to see that." todd said matter-of-factly.

"I've seen it many times before, this won't be anything new." sal joked.

"oh, shut up." Larry pushed past sal and walked inside. "I'm not that naughty."

"naughty?" ash repeated in a taunting tone. I snorted.

"naughty little lad, of course!" Neil smiled.

"you guys are bullies." Larry muttered.

we quickly checked in and paid, eager to 'kick eachothers asses' but I was positive that I was going to win along with whoever was on my team.

"I call sal and neil." Larry shouted, dragging them away.

"Wow, okay." ash scoffed. "at least I got Todd and y/n."

"sorry baby." Larry cooed.

sal looked at me and giggled. I smiled back at him weakly. he glanced at me once more, a worried glare in his eyes, before following Larry to the other side.

the three of is walked to the opposite area. we were the red team, I assumed, as the lights flashed and read 'red team.' the wall had an assortment of 10 vests messing hung up on hooks next to a rack holding toy guns.

ash and todd slipped on their vests easily as I stared cautiously at mine. "sals going to laugh at me, I'm going to look so stupid." I trailed off.

ash rolled her eyes. "be so for real."

"sal isn't like that, y/n. I'm sure you know that better than anyone." todd commented, wrapping an arm around me.

"I mean, yeah. but still-"

"y/n." ash interrupted. "don't overthink it." she gave me a gentle smile.

"okay." I sighed, putting on the vest and grabbing my assigned gun before following them out to the play area.

I heard Larry's maniac cackling from across the big room. "oh, fuck." ash face palmed.

"they're going to eat shit." Todd smirked. he rarely cusses, but when he does it never fails to make me laugh.

"okay, todd." I said sarcastically.

"what?" he was cut off by the buzzer, signaling for us to go.

the two of them branched off separate ways as I walked straight forward. I whipped around, hearing rustling behind me. I slowly took a step back gripping my gun like my life depended on my. hypothetically, it did. the silence that followed made my heart race faster than before. I quickly turned the corner to cover myself, making sure to watch my back. I bumped into a figure with a yelp. I quickly picked up my gun and aimed it at the blue haired boy.

"oh my god, sal. shoot me and I swear to God, I will-"

"I'm not gonna shoot you. truce?" he cut me off.

"I'm not so sure about that." I whispered, taking a step closer to him. I gave him a once over, i adored how the vest hugged his body. I would have been drooling if I didn't keep my composure around him. "go on, shoot me." I smirked.

sal laughed quietly, "I'll let you go this time, little missy."

I snorted. "little missy?" my hand ran down his arm.

"why are you fucking with me right now?" he hissed, lashes fluttering. "n-now is probably the worst time to seduce me."

"oh yeah?" I quickly lifted my gun and shot him in the chest. "that was my goal."

sals eyes narrowed. "You little traitor. I'm going to get you back."

"how are you going to do that?"

"just wait until my dad leaves for work." he leaned in, whispering. I turned to watch as he walked away, feeling giddy. I shook myself out of it, quickly turning the corner. I was stunned to see Larry peering around the corner. my heart skipped a beat. luckily, his back was towards me.

with a small smirk on my face, I called his name. he whipped around, gun pointed. I shot him first. "you little shit!" he shrieked.

I flipped him off. "eat shit!"

Larry looked at me stunned. "fu-" The buzzer went off, as if it was censoring the shit he was about to yap at me.

I can to the doors as Larry chased after me screaming profanities. I smiled as the light coming from the open exit doors drew closer.

I tripped. Larry let out a psychotic laugh, staring down at me on my hands and knees. i quickly turned around, grabbing the back of his knees, making him fall as well. While he was temporary disabled, I made a sprint for the door. I threw myself behind sal and Ash as larry came up the walkway red as a tomato. he glanced around before finally noticing me.

"come here, y/n! I'm going to-"

"What a sore loser!" Ash teased, catching Larry off guard.

larry just rolled his eyes in response and crossed his arms. he jutted his bottom lip out. "shut up."

ash rolled her eyes and turned to me, giving me a high 5. Larry rolled his eyes so hard, it looked as if he was trying to see his itty bitty brain.

I looked down at my crusty old shoes while the others bickered. I remembered the way my mom told were moving. it wasn't a huge deal, of course, we were only moving a few blocks down the road. but I knew it's affect everything. Maybe not in a bad way, but things

would change. I started hold back tears, I thought about how I was finally comfortable in the apartments. It but as if the rug had just been swiped from under me.

"y/n, you okay?" sal whispered, patting my shoulder.

"Uh, yeah." I stuttered. he squinted his eyes at me and tilted his head, signaling to the hall adjacent to the group.

I sighed and gave in giving a small nod before following him down the hall. I glanced back, watching larry is he pretended to make out with himself. I rolled my eyes and turned my head back to the blue haired boy walking in front of me.

as we approached the end of the hall. sal stopped and leaned against the wall, looking at me "whats wrong, love?"

I sighed, looking at him through my

lashes. "im moving. Not far, but im still angry about it. Everything finally started feel okay."

i could tell he was frowning under his prosthetic. "where are you going?"

"Right up the street." I leaned against the opposite wall. "It's less than a 10 minute walk."

"See? there you go. everything will be okay, y/n."

"Yeah, I know." I smiled softly, feeling the weight begin to evaporate off my chest.

"let's go back, sweetheart." He smiled.

-

I sat across from sat in his dimly lit dining room. His face was still mostly bandaged, leaving his bad age covered. my mother and his father chatted as we sat and stayed silent. I didn't want to interrupt, so we stayed silent as we made silly faces or played footsie, forgetting about our food.

"that's enough, you two." Henry sighed, rubbing his full belly. "either finish or off to bed."

we collectively groaned and made our way off to bed.

#ash campbell #larry johnson #sally face #sal fisher #fanfic #friends to lovers #fanfiction #melanie martinez #sal fisher x y/n #light shower

[thedawningofthehour]

This may be strange question, but how are Aprils parent dealing with everything going on? How much do they understand what Donnie means to April and how do they still feel about it all?

Guys, there are no strange questions! We're all weirdos here. Embrace it. Love it.

April's parents know the whole scoop by now. At first I just had her tell them because I realized that April was going to be heavily present and it was either constantly reference the various excuses she uses to keep them out of her hair or just make it look like they ignore the shit out of her, and I didn't care for either of those vibes.

I think of April more as a latchkey kid than truly neglected-I mean, yeah, her parents leave her alone a lot, but they've also raised her to handle that responsibly and will absolutely drop everything for her if she needs it. They just work a lot. They knew that April had a group of friends she was very close to that they couldn't meet for whatever reason. And like...they were suspicious, but they also wanted to trust her. (Some people have commented that without context it really looks like Splinter is running a cult, with his color-coded children who don't go to school and aren't vaccinated and shit, and goddamn they are right)

Keep in mind, the story starts mid-March and Mystic Mayhem happened in like late summer/early fall the year before, so there have been mutations happening all over the place for at least six months by the time April tells her parents that the reason they haven't met her friends is because they're mutants. And they're like, "oh thank god." That was the most harmless explanation they could think of. (they didn't actually think that April was in a gang, but like...there's only so many explanations that fit) Also they're New Yorkers. So April tells them that there's a magical city underneath New York and they're just like, "yeah, that makes a lot of sense."

I can't remember how much of this actually made it into the story and how much I cut, but hearing what April had been doing actually really freaked them out. They're proud of her, of course, and they have faith in her capabilities, but they had no idea. I mean, their daughter has a crane license. They didn't know she could do that. It really made them reevaluate their priorities. That's part of the reason why Carol started working on the mutant town up at Todd's-she realized that she was giving so much of her life to her job and it just wasn't worth it. She feels awful for what the Hamatos had to go through due to their mutations and she feels way better spending her time making sure other mutants don't have to go through that.

As far as the boys go-they fucking love them. I wasn't joking when I said that they're socializing parenting. Splinter told them that he's always wanted a daughter and kind of considered April a bonus child, and they were like, "fuck you, we get bonus kids out of the deal too." The boys really activate that Parental Instinct deep inside them, especially after hearing how isolated and neglected they were. (they really don't blame Splinter for this-like, they had one baby and there were two of them, along with extended family/daycare/etc and that shit was still hard. They understand what an absolutely impossible task Splinter had been handed. Frankly, they're impressed that all four of them are alive) It also helps that Mikey was the first one they met, so they were instantly charmed. April's their priority, but they do genuinely love the boys.

And they haven't met Donnie, but they know that he and April were the closest, they've heard so much about him and seen the things he's built. They already love him and want to meet him so badly. I also wasn't going to confirm that her dad worked at the same research center where Donnie hatched, but I have thought about her dad getting all Emotional about it (it was a bad year and very few of the hatchlings survived-everyone was sad when the one guy they were all rooting for was seemingly eaten by a hawk or something) and showing Splinter Donnie's baby pictures and shit. Splinter would probably cry. Donnie would be so fucking done.

All in all, April's parents are like 90% of this fic where I didn't plan for anything to be A Thing and a narrative just grew when I wasn't looking.

#doth #doth asks #sorry this is one of those asks where my brain just unloaded

[moonchild-writes]

Sally Face x DBD concept (The Plague of Shadows)

The Addison Apartments have a long and sad history. Every person who dies in the apartments is condemned to wander the place where they died for eternity. The demon who calls itself God tortures every poor soul trapped within the walls, using them as a means to gain enough power to kill the entire world.

In 1991, Sal Fisher moves to Nockfell with his father for one reason or another, inadvertently thwarting the Red-Eyed Demon's plans. The young man befriends some of the spirits and learns more about the possibility of what happened from a young girl named Megan. He gets fully involved when he goes to room 504 and finds a strange hole, crawls inside and meets Red-Eyes for the first time.

Sal, Larry, Ashley and Todd become involved with the cult that worships the Red-Eyes. They find the temple underneath the apartments and realize that the reason why everyone in town is strange is because of the cult. They also find that the bologna for school is made from human flesh and that the math teacher, Mrs. Packerton, is a part of the cult, as are many others.

After disappearing for years, the red-eyed demon returns, and before he can continue his reign of terror, the demon, Sal, and Larry are taken into the Fog by The Entity to play its sick game… and the Red-Eyed Demon is all too happy to play.

Characters: Sal Fisher and Larry Johnson

Killer: Red-Eyed Demon / The Plague of Shadows

Sal's overview:

Character Bio: Sal Fisher has always been adventurous and kind, but time has made him jaded and distrustful of others. Still, he lends a helping hand to his friends and ghosts alike.

Years after the Red-Eyed Demon's disappearance, it seemed as if things were finally starting to calm down, only for things to suddenly heat up. With the sudden return of the Red-Eyed Demon and the return of the Devourers of God cult, Sal believed that Larry had killed himself after sending some terrifying messages. Sal ran back to the apartments, searching for Larry and desperately hoping he was joking.

Unaware that Larry was no longer in their realm, Sal found Larry's note and assumed he was dead. However, Rosenberg was able to reach into the Fog and pull Larry out just long enough to help Sal stop the cult. During the battle with the Endless One, Sal was engulfed by the fog and pulled into the Entity's realm.

When he awoke, he found himself near a strange cabin. He heard someone calling his name, apparently searching for him. When he finally makes his way to the voice, he's reunited with Larry, who reveals that the Entity took him before he could commit suicide. Now Sal finds himself with new people and a strange new mystery on his hands. With the help of Larry and his new team, Sal plans to uncover the secrets of the Entity and the reason the Black Veil exists. It almost feels normal.

Sal's perks allow him to trick and confuse the killer, as well as help his team wherever he can.

Role: The Spiritual Empath

Unique Perks:

The Forgotten Ballad - When a survivor is downed within 5/10/15 meters of you, you gain a 10/15/20% haste effect. Only after reviving the survivor does the effect persist for 10/15/20 seconds for both you and your teammate. Once it's over, the Exhaustion effect activates for 20 seconds. "I can't believe this is real. I can't believe you're really gone." - Sal Fisher

Shadow - After years of dealing with the supernatural, you've learned to work with the other side. When Shadow is active, you gain a 20/30/40% chance of not being detected by a killer's sense ability (if the killer has one), and crows are less likely to fly away in your presence. Shadow will not activate if you are wounded, affected by the Broken status, or if you are the last survivor. "Leave me and my five teeth alone." - Sal Fisher

Spiritual Empath - You have a unique connection to the supernatural and have learned how to hone it and use it to your advantage. When a generator reaches 40%, Spiritual Empath activates and you have the ability to call upon a spirit from the other side to create an audio and visual distraction. Spiritual Empath can only be used twice in a single trial. "It's okay, Mrs. Sanderson. Go hide." - Sal Fisher

Larry's overview:

Character Bio: Larry Johnson has always been known for his rebellious nature. He loved to cause chaos and do whatever he wanted, whether it was considered legal or not. Stealing, graffiti, and pranks were just a few of his favorite things to do.

But he wasn't always so rebellious. Since his father disappeared, Larry found it difficult to live a normal life. He assumed that his father had been taken by some kind of curse, but he later found out that his father had legitimately disappeared.

As he grew older, he stopped getting involved in petty crime and instead began to focus on what he wanted. After living in the Addison Apartments for most of his life, he thought it was time to move on and move in with his best friend and brother, Sal… but all of that came to a halt when the Red-Eyed Demon began trying to connect with him. Scared of what would happen, and feeling that he wasn't as strong as Sal, he decided to try to take his own life to prevent the demon from taking him as a host.

But when he woke up, he wasn't a ghost and he definitely wasn't dead. He was in the woods, but it didn't look or feel like the woods around Wendigo Lake… it was darker, unwelcoming, and cold. He started walking and found the glow of a campfire. As he made his way toward the welcoming light, he found others like him, trapped. Now, with a second chance at life, he's determined to help his new team escape this strange new realm.

Larry's powers will help him protect his team at all costs and fight back against the evil that surrounds him.

Role: The Delinquent

Unique Perks:

Delinquency - You're known for your criminal record, and you're not afraid to get your hands dirty. After being hooked once, Delinquency will activate and the next time the killer comes near you, a skill check will appear and you can stun them for a few seconds by throwing a rock at them. Delinquency can only be used once per trial. "I tried to talk to that detective, but he wouldn't listen to me without evidence. As if my word isn't enough." - Larry Johnson

The Other Side - You may not be dead, but your connection to the Other Side is uncanny. You can see the aura of your allies within 7/13/20 meters of you, and if the Obsession is injured, you will see their aura no matter what. The Other Side will not activate if you are the Obsession in the trail. "Let's put an end to these fuckers." - Larry Johnson

Time To Go - You sacrifice yourself for those you love. When taking a protection hit after unhooking a survivor, you will not be affected. The next time you are hit, you will be put into the dying state. "It can't rain all the time." - Larry Johnson

Plague of Shadows overview:

Character Bio: A creature of unknown origin, the Red-Eyes is a creature that preys on the weak and fearful in order to feed… something. The reason why it does what it does is unknown, but one thing is certain; it wants to destroy all life.

The Red-Eyed Demon had destroyed Jim Johnson's planet with little to no regard, seeing them as simply in its way. The demon has also proven to be very cunning, manipulative, and obviously sadistic. The demon goes after weak people, people it can mold and use to get its way and cause more and more destruction.

The help of the Devourers of God had made it even stronger, but it quickly grew impatient and disgusted with humans, claiming that flesh "irritated" it. The demon is thwarted by Alyson Rosenburg, Stacy Holmes, Greg Montague, and Sandy Sanderson. In retaliation, the Red-Eyes take over another vessel to kill Mrs. Sanderson.

Sal and Henry Fisher move into the apartments, and the Red-Eyes becomes irritated with Sal's interference with the spirits in the Addison Apartments, using them as its vessel. When the teenager finds the ghost of Luke Holmes, the Red-Eyes reveals itself, but is banished by Larry Johnson. After regaining its strength, the Red-Eyed Demon is made an offer it can't refuse: an endless supply of victims to torture and terrorize in the world created by The Entity.

Now the Red-Eye is preying on a whole new collection of poor fools who can't escape, growing stronger and more restless as time goes on. It will achieve its goal of destruction. It will.

Title: The Plague of Shadows

Unique Perks:

Power - Spiritual Infection You have the ability to grasp what is beyond the reach of others. The more you wound the survivors, the greater your hold on them becomes. Spiritual Infection begins at the start of the trial and continues to grow with each hit you make on a survivor, filling the gauge 5% each time a basic attack lands.

Special Attack - Possession Possession allows the Plague of Shadows to temporarily take control of a ghost on the map to scout the map or deal extra damage to survivors. Possession initially lasts 10 seconds, but increases by an additional 3 seconds with each successful attack.

Healing Alters Survivors can cure themselves of the infection by healing alters scattered around the map. The alters will reset the infection to 0%.

Flesh and Blood - Your hatred of humanity drives you and teaches you things others cannot see. When activated, Flesh and Blood allows you to receive a visual and audio cue from one survivor within 3/8/15 yards of your Terror radius. Flesh and Blood has a 120 second cooldown.

Sick Tricks - You are cunning, manipulative, and all around twisted. You thrive on the discomfort and terror of others. When Sick Tricks is active, you can create a visual hallucination for the survivor of one of your victims, causing them to scream and reveal their location. Sick Tricks can only be activated 3 times per trial.

Scourge Hook: The Dark - You're not the only one who can cause harm. Four random hooks will become Scourge Hooks. When a survivor is unhooked from a Scourge Hook, the following effects apply: The survivor is affected by the Blindness and Broken status effects for 15/20/25 seconds. When healed, the survivor suffers from Exhaustion and Hindered for 7/10/13 seconds.

Weapon - The Hand of Infection

#don't get me started on the artwork #i fucking hate drawing men so much sometimes wtf #why are they built like that???? #sally face #sally face x dbd #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd concept #concept #artwork #fanart #fan art #my fanart #digital art #art #artists on tumblr

[secondgenerationnerd]

This is gonna be so fucking sad but I'm curious ... How did Lian find out about her parents' death, who told her, how did she take it (I know she was sad but like did she break down or what)

…I wrote a fic about this a few years ago…but I wanted to redo it so….suffer.

I cried writing this as a heads up.

——————————

Nothing like target practice to take the edge off finals. Walking to the living area, Lian checks her phone. Dad had said he’d be back in a few days, but she hadn’t heard from him. Probably nothing, just Dad getting distracted by the job. She shoots him a quick text before shoving the phone into her pocket.

As she enters the living area, something’s…off. Her teammates can’t take their eyes off the uninvited guests—Jason Todd and Donna Troy. Lian’s godparents, her dad’s exes. Sure, she more than anyone knows how scary the two can be, but to her? They’re as normal as the quiver on her back. So why does everyone look sick?

“Uncle Jay? Aunt Donna?” The moment they face her, the moment she sees their expressions, her stomach sinks. How many times did she give a civilian that same look? “Who died?”

“Lian.” Her aunt takes a steady breath, “We should speak privately—“

“Who. Died.” Lian barely hears herself over her pounding heart. But seeing the others flinch at her tone, at least it’s not showing. She might not have Irey’s sweet face or Mar’i’/Milagro’s diplomatic skills, but she’s a performer. She knows how to use her voice. “Jason. Peter. Todd. Who. Died.”

Wait. Why are they here and not—

“Your parents.” Jason’s rumble of a voice freezes time.

“…That’s not funny.”

“Lian—“

The young archer steps back, yanking her phone free, “That’s not fucking funny!”

With shaking hands, she dials her father’s number. Please, Dad, pick up.

This is Roy Harper. If I missed your call, probably my daughter’s fault. (Dad!) leave a message and I’ll hit you back.

“Baby Doll,” A large hand rests on her shoulder, “He’s not going to pick up—“

“Yes. He. Will!” Breathe, Baby doll, her mother’s voice soothes, you have to breathe. Mom. Lian dials the ‘emergencies only’ number. Mom always picked up. Always showed up when Lian called this number. The one thing she can always count o—

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

“Lian,” Donna moves closer, “There was a fire.”

Lian tries to ignore them. Dialing the number over and over.

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

Jason’s rumble again, “Your mom was being chased. They caught up with her.”

I’m sorry the mailbox has not been set up. Please try your call again later.

“Your dad went back inside to save her—“

“You’re LYING!” Phone dropping to the floor, Lian shoves Jason backwards. Despite his bigger build, Jason still staggers back. “YOU’RE LYING! HE AND MOM ARE FINE!”

“We confirmed with DNA.”

“SHUT! UP!” Lian covers her ears. It’s not true. They’re playing some horrible joke on her. Mom and Dad are going to come into the room any second. Acting like nothing can touch them. Nothing can-

Mar’i’s soft, understanding voice that breaks her, “Li.”

The tears come fast, blurring her world as she falls to the ground. Someone catches her. Someone holds her close as she screams and screams and screams. Wordless, thoughtless pain burning her throat. This can’t be real. It’s not real. It can’t be.

But it is.

The thought brings a fresh wave of pain, fresh screams and tears and pleas for her parents. They can’t be gone. They’re still young, long lives ahead of them. Lian still needs them. She needs more nights with Dad, goofing around as they cook dinner. Needs to tell Mom she didn’t hate her. Why did those have to be her last words to—

Last words.

Because she’d never talk to her parents again. Never smell Dad’s aftershave again. Never see Mom’s Chesire Cat grin, exactly like her own. Never hug them again. Never tell them she’s engaged or pregnant or any of the other life shit she thought didn’t matter. Now it does and they’re gone.

It’s not the screams that worry the others.

It’s the moment they stop. Lian laying motionless in Jason’s arms. Dark eyes a thousand miles away. If it weren’t for the rise and fall of her shoulders, they would know if she was alive…

…Even if they can see she doesn’t want to be.

#lian harper #lian nguyen harper #jason todd #donna troy #roy harper #jade nguyen #tw death #omega squad #arsenal #chesire #little red hood #the red hood #wonder girl

[findtomorrow]

( muse j / 25 / cis woman / she, her, hers ) — did you see CARLOTA “LOTTIE” HERNANDEZ PÉREZ wandering around the island today? they kind of look like BECKY G from certain angles? i heard around town that the RECEPTIONIST is CLEVER, and FRANK, but also CYNICAL, and INSENSITIVE. people say that they remind them of LAST NIGHT’S SMUDGED EYELINER, A SHINY UMBREON, and A FERAL KITTEN, and DISLOYAL ORDER OF WATER BUFFALOES by FALL OUT BOY is definitely their theme song. they seem like a nice enough person, but we all know how hard it is to keep a pristine reputation in a small town. ( admin jay / 26 / cst / she, her, hers ) 

✧*･ﾟ𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒚

first of all, lottie wants to butt in and inform you that it’s lottie, not carlota––and if that’s too difficult for you to remember, don’t talk to her at all. this is not a joke. you have been warned. 

clearly, this attitude stems from somewhere, and it’s from being the middle child of her family of four (( ya girl had to get attention Somehow )). she has an older sister who she loves to hate and hates to love, and a younger brother who takes after every early 2000s disney channel show’s annoying little brother character. lottie was the resident goth stuck in the middle.

her dad split when she was in middle school with no explanation and left her mom to pick up the pieces and his massive credit card debt. lottie’s really close to her mom, but her mom is kind of a mess lmao. her mom writes trashy romance novels, and she’s really whimsical and fun...but she’s also impulsive and forgets when the bills are due.

a lot of that is because her mom grew up really quickly. her grandparents expected her mom to be perfect from a very young age, so her mom reverted to the child she never got to be once she got away from her parents––but y'know...we don't talk about generational trauma in this household.

lottie assumed the responsibility of being her mother’s keeper, and she’s pretty jaded because of it tbh. lottie vc: if you want something done At All, do it yourfuckingself. 

she was Super motivated in high school and college. like she had to be the best at everything in school, and she had to get into the best universities with the best programs to prove to the world how fucking great she was. 

it worked for a while. she graduated valedictorian from high school and with honors from boston u, and then she got accepted into the harvard medical program. she lasted a year and then flunked out. 

lottie doesn’t talk about it ever bc like she’s so fucking humiliated that she failed, so most people wouldn’t know she went to med school at all. she kind of gave up on life after she dropped out of harvard. 

her dreams were crushed, so when the hotel was hiring just about anyone with a bachelors to be a receptionist, she applied so that she’d have a paycheck to buy video games and comic books. 

thanks for coming to my ted talk. 

✧*･ﾟ𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕

so i know you aren’t technically Supposed to open with a disclaimer, but, disclaimer–lottie is annoying as fuck for a variety of reasons: 

1) if you get to know her, she doesn’t shut up. like, i’m just apologizing for her in advance. even when she got her tonsils out, she just used a text to speech app to pontificate on eeveelutions and jason todd despite Many protests to stop. 

2) she’s incapable of admitting she’s wrong. it will never ever happen. you know that scene in malcom in the middle where they show lois the tape of her pulling out in front of the car when the cop pulled her over, and she was like the tape is wrong. that’s lottie–and she’d like to point out that lois was proven to be right, thank you very much. 

she’s a giant nerd. obvi. she’s obsessed with quantum theory, organic chemistry, and biology, specifically, but also, y’know, ridiculous superheroes and anime. 

she’s also a punk nerd; music is v, v important to her. her favorite bands are probably fall out boy pre-mania, blink before tom delonge left for the final time, green day always, the offspring, and sum 41. pls roast her. who does she think she is.

also, not a personality trait but v important, she was a goth in high school, and not a cool one lmao. 

she doesn’t believe in relationships bc she’s like that’s so much effort for so little reward, so she mostly sleeps around with men who she knows are completely wrong for her no matter the consequences.

she’s a not-so-secret pessimist. it’s v annoying, and i’m sorry. 

✧*･ﾟ𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅

best friend: ( m, f, nb ), squad ( m, f, nb), childhood friends: ( m, f, nb ), roommates: ( m, f, nb ), fwb: (m, nb), casual hookups ( m, nb), ex: ( m, nb )

all the connections tbh. slide into my dms, or like this and i’ll hit you up !

#khintro #bio

[deadlockorignalfilms]

Are there modern rock communities on the internet?

I assume that there have to be but I don't think I've ever seen a single person on the internet enjoy a rock song after 1999, almost every single YouTuber I've ever watched dedicates a good chunk of their comedy to making fun of every rock or metal band from this century. Most of fontanos lowest reviewed albums are rock albums, todd in the shadows hates new metal and emo, and The Game Grumps YMS and pan pizza make many many many jokes at the expense of Evanescence and Lincoln Park and godsmack and shinedown ect ect

There are plenty of popular metal bands that people generally like, like ghost and ramstein, and it seems like people generally like My Chemical Romance and System of a Down ,and rage against the machine, but it seems like that's it. I don't think I've ever seen anyone say a single positive thing about

Evanescence,

nickelback,

shinedown,

rise against,

sum 41,

the offspring,

Avenged sevenfold,

Black Veil brides,

Theory of a Deadman,

Linkin Park, fallout boy,

flyleaf

Ect ect ect

The only time I've ever heard these bands come up it's to trash them

I think this is the only area where I've ever seen something like reverse nostalgia, it's like everyone in my generation with any level of cultural influence has seemingly unanimously agreed that the early 2000s produced nothing of artistic value in terms of Rock or metal. Which I've never seen before with any other form of Art, usually people are very very protective of saying that stuff that they liked as kids holds up, even when it clearly doesn't, but it seems like the general consensus is "nope, we had the worst generation of Music in the history of mankind "

I mean I've met individual people who like some of the songs that I like, but I have never seen any type of legitimate culture critic indicate any level of quality from the music of this time period.

[faintblueivy]

So Imagine...

A world where Bruce Wayne died as a child in that alley that day, Martha and Thomas Wayne grieve as normal parents. They DO NOT BECOME BATMAN AND JOKER. 

Nothing ever remains the same after losing their little boy. So, Thomas buries himself in his work and Martha drowns herself in depression and pain. They do therapy and it works a little and life becomes bearable but...not happy.

One day, Alfred badgers the couple to go out and relax a little and buys them tickets for a circus - Haly’s circus. Everything was going nice and dandy and Martha was in awe of this little acrobat as much as the rest of the crowd when suddenly the rope snaps and the boy’s parents fall to their deaths - right in front of him and the gathering. Thomas is quick to jump in to see if he could help them in any way but Martha can see it in his eyes that they are as dead as they can be. 

They return to home with heavy hearts and Martha can’t get the image of the little boy out of her head. His skin was a light shade of bronze but his dark hair and bright cerulean blue eyes reminded her so much of Bruce that her heart wouldn’t rest. So a few days later she uses her connections to know if the child is safe and well cared for, when to her immense horror, she is replied that he was shipped to Gotham Juvie due to the lack of foster homes. She is enraged.

She calls Thomas and Alfred and lets them know about the little acrobat’s situation and declares that she was going to adopt him. They hesitate a little but she is not to be deterred as she goes ahead and brings the little boy home. 

Richard John Grayson - Wayne. Or Dick, as he likes to call himself. 

He is adamant that he wants no parents and Martha is fine because not only that she is old enough to be not his mother but also because no child can ever be her Bruce.

“You can just call me Grandma then.” She tells him.

His eyes are wide but he nods and then smiles and Martha, in a long while, has never felt this happy. 

Her new Grandson, despite losing his parents, is a ray of sunshine with unlimited supply of energy and the cold and empty manor is warm and happy again. 

Dick is a little charmer and even after Thomas and Alfred’s initial reluctance, they immediately fall in love with the boy and one day, when Martha comes down to the morning breakfast, she hears a happy, deep rumble - one she has not heard in many years. Thomas is laughing. 

There on the dining table, seated beside Dick, was Thomas laughing. Her eyes water at the scene and Alfred, who is standing beside her offers her a handkerchief. None of them mention how his own eyes are wet too.

 ...

Dick is sixteen, a brilliant boy in academics as much as they disinterest him but an invincible athlete. Martha has been told time and time again that her grandson is undoubtedly a international level gymnast. But he is a teenager.

And teenagers steal their grandparent’s ‘coolest’ car and rush off into the night. But they don’t come back with a little battered and bruised, homeless kid tucked under their arm.

“He had jacked three tires off your car. When I confronted him, he tried to hit me with a tire iron.” He says, amused, as Thomas tries to convince the child to show him his injuries.

“I didn’t do nothin’! He’s a fuckin’ big boob liar!” They boy screams, his blue green eyes glaring daggers at Dick.

“Language.” Both her and Alfred warn simultaneously.

After hours of struggle, interrogation and fuck you’s, Martha learns that the child’s name is Jason. He is twelve. Mother died form drug overdosing and Dad is a petty henchman of some crime lord. He ran away from multiple foster homes because they are so abusive that the child feels safer on streets. 

Martha goes on a rampage over Gotham’s foster care after that. She did not donate millions of dollars annually for children to feel safer on streets. After of lot of talks and reassurances and promises, Martha acquires her second grandchild.

Jason Peter Todd - Wayne. 

Jason is tiny. Malnourished like Leslie said. But he is sharp, observant and hungry for knowledge. Martha and Alfred joke that Jason is Thomas' soul child. Where Dick had loved activity and movement, Jason liked quiet and stability - Martha thinks that running and fighting for survival on streets every single day does that you. So evenings often found her and Dick in the garden but Thomas and Jason in the library pouring over as many books as they can.

And to nobody's surprise, despite their rocky start, the boys become inseparable. They are outwardly different, with clashing interests and behaviors but Martha can see that they both carry the same cores of light.  

When the morning of Dick’s Parent’s death anniversary comes around, both her and Thomas find Jason on Dick’s bed, arms curled protectively around his big brother. For the first time in so many years, Dick wakes up to warmth surrounding him, not nightmares. 

...

Both her grandsons attend Gotham Academy so when she receives a phone call from the Principal, she is half surprised and half not. When she enters the Principal’s office, both her boys are standing on one side, Jason with his head hung in shame and Dick glaring daggers at the other side. The boy who seems to be injured is being coddled by his mother who is shooting nasty glares at her grandchildren periodically. 

Then she notices another small boy standing beside her boys, trying to melt into the wall.

Tim Drake. The only son of Jack and Janet Drake of Drake Industries.    

She arches a questioning eyebrow at Dick who shakes his head and then she turns to the Principal. 

“What happened here?”

“Glad to see you’re here Mrs. Wayne.” The Principal says, pushing his glasses up his nose, “I regret to inform you that your ward Jason Peter Todd attacked this young man here.” He gestures to the other boy. 

“Madam, Gotham Academy is a prestigious school and we do not encourage physical violence here. Yes, it might have been acceptable from where he came from but it won’t be, here. I hope you give us the right to punish Mr. Todd here appropriately.” 

Martha inwardly bristles at the jab at her grandson and says crisply, “Mr. Wayne.”

“What?”

“He’s not just Todd. He is a Wayne. Please remember that.”

“Principal Sir.” Dick cuts in and Martha is confused because as hyperactive as Dick is, he is a mannerly child and knows better than to cut in a conversation like this but what draws her attention is the chilling tone which Dick almost never uses. Dick continues, “Why don’t you tell our grandmother more of your regrets? Or the prestigious Gotham Academy believes that bullying is acceptable.” 

Martha has been told what she needs to know. 

“Jason?” she calls out to her youngest grandson softly, “What happened?”

Jason is quiet when suddenly Tim Drake moves forward. She can see he is scared the way his hands shake but determination shines in his blue eyes. She likes him.

“I want to say something.”

He narrates the tale of how he was being bullied and how the boy on the other side with his mother threw his science project model away and broke it and physically tried to attack him when Jason stepped in to save him. Martha felt nothing but pride at Jason’s righteous indignation. 

Tim also explained that Jason exercised immense control even after these bullies called him ‘street rat’, but the verbal spar intensified after Dick was insulted for his Romani heritage, but it came to fist fight after Thomas and Martha were insulted, and Bruce’s death was made fun of.

Her gaze snaps to the other three occupants of the room and they are all in various shades of pale. Apparently, the Principal had not done his homework.

“Principal” She says icily, “Yes, I give you the authority to punish Jason appropriately but only when this young man here”, she gestures to the boy who was now cowering behind his mother, “Is dealt with in the same way.”

After threatening the Principal in soft words but harsh tone about not tolerating to having her grandsons bullied the next time, she grabs Jason’s hand to drag him away from these people who don’t deserve his company, when her eyes fall on the little trembling Tim. 

She offers him her hand.

He stares at it, shocked but after an encouraging smile from Dick and a small shove from Jason, he takes it shyly.

And since that day, Tim becomes a member of Martha’s family. The boys stay together so much that even Thomas forgets that Tim is not theirs. 

Tim’s upbringing sends Martha’s grandmother instincts on a haywire and she resents the Drakes for their criminal neglect towards Tim. 

It is rewarding that Tim flourishes in their attention. 

She learns that his hobby is Photography and he is excellent at it. And he is a genius when it comes to science, computers and gadgets. He likes crime thrillers movies and books and often picks them apart with his scarily good knowledge about forensics that leave the rest of the family in awe and slightly disturbed. 

The dam breaks when one day Jason and Dick return back from school telling her that Tim was absent today and they are worried about him. When they later sneak into the Drake mansion in the evening, Thomas receives a frantic call from their oldest grandchild that Tim was burning with fever. Because Thomas is a doctor, they save Tim before anything serious happens.

This time, it is Thomas who sues the Drakes for Tim’s custody after him and Jason had, had enough of ‘Timbo’s shitty parents’.

“Timothy?” Martha brushes his sweat soaked forehead gently. “Would you like to be a member of our family legally?"

Tim is hesitant about this but he admits that he likes Wayne manor much better than he ever liked Drake mansion. He confesses that he loves Jason and Dick as brothers and sees Martha, Thomas and Alfred as his grandparents as well.

The long custody battle ends with both Jack and Janet Drake dying at the hands of two different tragedies, leaving Tim an orphan, but also with a loving family consisting of three grandparents and two brothers by his side. 

Timothy Jackson Drake - Wayne is adopted into the Wayne family as her and Thomas’ third grandson.

...

A year after they adopt Tim, Thomas comes home with a small girl on his side. She is clearly an east Asian in heritage with dark hair and dark eyes and is speech deprived. Thomas is clearly distressed after Cassandra - her name is Cassandra - is safely secured in warm bed in a nice room across Jason’s. He calls her, the three boys and Alfred to his study to explain about the small girl. 

He talks about how Gordon brought the girl to him and after hours of wordless, signed and clumsily sketched on paper conversations with the little girl they were able to determine that Cassandra was hiding from her father who was an assassin and wanted to drag the little girl down the same path before she ran away. The more he talks about the damage and abuse the girl had experienced at the hands on her own father, the more furious Martha becomes. When Thomas’ explanations ends, Jason slams a punch into the wall making a dent but no one has the heart to reprimand him for that. 

The following morning, Martha can see that her three boys have unanimously decided that they are adopting Cassandra as their sister. She is treated like a Princess, and given the nick name ‘Cass’. 

Slowly but surely, Cass learns what it means to love through Dick’s bright kindness, Jason’s quiet protection and Tim’s infinite patience. After her father is finally apprehended, the family celebrates.

Cassandra Wayne, soon after, becomes the beloved Wayne Princess of Gotham. 

Martha and Thomas often accompany their only granddaughter to her speech therapy lessons, so after six months of her adoption, at dinner, she places a kiss on everyone’s forehead - her three brothers and three grandparents, stands at the head of the table and croaks out, slowly, “Thank...thank you.” All of them stare at her flabbergasted, but it appears that she was planning to shock them even more.

“You...Love. Love you...”

The silence that follows her broken but sure words is deafening. Surprisingly it is Tim who breaks it as he scrambles out of his chair and launches himself at Cass, wrapping his arms around her and both Jason and Dick follow him, grabbing both their youngest siblings fiercely.

A quiet sob breaks her out of the trance and she smiles when she watches Thomas furiously wiping his tears from the sleeve of his shirt. The last time he     had cried was at Bruce’s funeral. And Martha is infinitely grateful that this time these are happy tears. 

...

Sometimes Martha wonders what would have happened if Bruce had lived. If these children are her grandchildren then does that mean they are Bruce’s kids? Had Bruce lived, would he have accepted these gaggle of kids that her and Thomas have collected over the years as his own? Would he have kids of his own? 

Her questions are answered when one day she hears a slight commotion in the entrance is surprised to see a young woman with a sword threatening Alfred.

“I want to meet the Master of this house. Let them know immediately.” She demands in an authoritative but silky voice, and Martha suddenly sees the Toddler clutched in her arm. 

“What is it?” Martha speaks as soon as she can when the woman notices her. She looks surprised for a second but immediately schools her features as the baby fusses.

“You’re alive.” She whispers and before any of them could make an indignant comment about her wordings, she says, “It appears that I might have traveled in to the wrong universe.”

Now that is interesting. Martha lives in a world where they are protected by aliens...so, it is certainly worth hearing for. 

Martha offers the young lady an invitation for tea which she accepts. She notices how the woman carries herself with lethal grace and dignity as if she was a Princess but much more. As they sit and Alfred leaves to bring the promised team Martha notices how the woman’s eyes sweep over the place. 

“How may I help you?”

Her voice attracts the attention of the toddler and this time, he is not clutched tightly enough to his mother’s chest to turn his small head and look at her. Martha gasps. Because the child looks too much like Toddler Bruce. But instead of the blue eyes like her son, this child has glowing green ones, like his mother. But still, the resemblance is uncanny. 

“Yes, he is your son’s.” The woman answers the unasked question.

She is explained the existence of Multiverse, and it’s workings and how Bruce survived instead of them in that world, met Talia (the woman’s name is Talia Al Ghul) and had a child but had to leave. Talia mentions the reason she came here was because her son’s life was in danger and Talia’s father wanted to raise her son as an assassin Prince and a tool for him to use. Talia’s solution to protect her son was for her to give her son to the Bruce of this world to raise, since the Bruce of that world had gone missing.   

“I can raise him.” Martha suddenly declares and the woman looks at him shocked. “I will not raise him into a life of violence but I can certainly protect him and give him a happy civilian life.”

Talia looks unsure, hesitant, but says, “I...have been a warrior since the day I can remember. Never once have I ever thought of my son not being a warrior. He was...born to be one.” 

Martha smiles. “He doesn’t have to be one. Yes, his life will be infinitely different than the one you imagined but...he will be well loved and protected. I can assure you of that.”

“Damian.” Talia whispers as he deposits the baby in her arms after a lot of consideration. “His name is Damian.”

She looks at her son tenderly one last time and places a kiss on his forehead and Martha’s heart breaks a little for the young mother. 

“Will you return back for him?” Martha asks as she follows the Talia to the door.

“No.” Talia whispers, her voice strained. “I will not. Any action taken by me is monitored by my father closely. If I return back, then he might know that I have left Damian here and I cannot let that happen. He is yours, forever.”

Martha gives her a sad smile. “You’re a brave and good mother Talia. Thank you for doing what is best for your son.”

She nods, not turning to look at Damian one last time as she leaves the manor grounds, never to return. 

Martha looks at the baby secure in her arms and her lips quirk up into a grin at the sight of two curious green eyes watching her with interest. 

“Welcome to the family, little Damian.”

When she introduces the new addition to the family, Thomas is dumbfounded. Dick is ecstatic at the prospect of having a new baby brother, Jason is secretly pleased, Cass is happiest and Tim looks unsure.

That’s how Damian Wayne - Al Ghul joins the family.

Damian fits in their home spectacularly. After few days of hesitation, like he had with Dick, Thomas takes to Damian quickly. He has an epic competition going on with their eldest grandson to become the baby’s favorite. Damian refuses to sleep without Thomas but his tantrums are only controlled and won over by Dick. Damian loves Jason manhandling him and giggles happily when the older boy throws him in the air or swings him around. Damian loves Cassandra because she knows what he wants before any of them do. And Cass loves to carry her little brother around to watch birds and animals in the manor grounds.

The only person Damian seems to not get along with is Tim and the older boy seems not be fond of him either. Because Damian wants everything Tim does and the older brother has to compromise for Damian every time. But Martha has to bite laughs a lot now a days because almost everytime Damian falls asleep, it is with Tim in vicinity. And she has caught the older boy tenderly covering Damian in his favorite blanket more often than not. Martha thinks that this is kind of cute but keeps her opinion to herself. 

Her little grandson is quite protective of his siblings though. Anytime someone upsets any of his siblings, they are threatened with scowls, growls and even bites and stabbings in extreme cases.

Like last time when Mrs. Park made fun of Cassandra’s  speech impairment, Damian almost bit her finger off. Damian hates one of Dick’s racist colleague (they all do) so much that anytime the man enters his field of vision, the first thing Damian gets his hand on is thrown at the guy’s head. With deadly precision. And last time when Mr. Link had called Jason ‘street rat’ for personally volunteering charity work for poor and homeless, Damian had smeared his juice and drool covered hands on the Man’s thousand dollars suit. And when one time, a reporter had infiltrated a Gala and chased Tim around to ask uncomfortable questions about his parent’s death and the Wayne’s involvement in it, Damian, noticing Tim’s distress had stabbed the reporter with a fork with no hesitation. 

Martha is still not sure if she should encourage or reprimand Damian for that.

...

As she sits on the head of the table with Thomas on her side and Alfred on the other end, she wonders how miraculous it is for her to have all these children in her life. 

Dick is engaged in an animated conversation with Stephanie who was introduced to the family as Tim’s girlfriend. Barbara, the daughter of James Gordon and Dick’s girlfirend/or not was helping Cass pile up food on her plate. Damian and Tim were bickering over something as usual but Jason trying to hide his snickers in guise of drinking water which made Martha sure that the something was Jason’s doing.

These people were her family. The ones she had gained after losing Bruce. She wonders, if there was a universe where Bruce got to meet her grandchildren. 

Would he accept them? As family? 

Would he love them? As family? 

She brightly smiles when the multiple sets of eyes turn to her waiting for her to blow the candle.

“Happy Birthday Martha.”

Thomas says warmly, his voice thick with emotion and she meets his gaze and sees the love, affection and thankfulness in his eyes for this family that they had created after their earth shattering loss. She knows what she wants as she blows the candle on the cake flickering in front of her.

I wish for us to be family in every universe.

#batman #martha wayne #thomas wayne #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #Damian Wayne #wayne family #batfamily #batfam #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #nightwing #red hood #robin #batgirl #spoiler #black bat #orphan #this is fic? or not #batfam fanfiction #bat siblings #bat brothers #i like this idea #imagine if Bruce stumbles into this universe #dc #dc universe #found family

[teddyduchampsglasses]

Interesting headcanon request because I think it could be entertaining:

Embarrassing headcanons for each of the poets.

Something That Embarrasses Each Of The Dead Poets

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Neil~

Once he thought a muffin was a hamster. Cameron burst through the door of Mr. Keating’s class one day, totally late, and as he sat down, Neil spotted something brown laying in his grasp. As Mr. Keating went back to teaching, Neil discreetly leaned over and whispered to Richard “You can bring a hamster in here?” To which Cameron, looked down at the muffin laying in his hands, then back at Neil, and said “Neil...this is a muffin.” Knox, who heard this from down the row, burst out into laughter. And after Cameron quickly explained the whole situation, because Knox drew attention to himself, the whole class also burst out into laughter. Even Mr. Keating. Neil’s face turned red as he looked over at the wall, avoiding all eye contact at any possible measure. So, for the next week, people would jokingly pet muffins as Neil walked past.

~Todd~

Todd almost cried when he accidentally called Mr. Keating dad. He was asking a question about the homework that had been assigned when the word “father” accidentally slipped. Mr. Keating, along with the rest of the class, noticed his little mistake and had to point it out. Mr. Keating of course made a joke, making Todd want to lay down and die more than he already did before. The joke was probably something about banging Todd’s mom. IM JOKING IM JOKING. Anyway, after that, he started to get called “Todd Keating” or “Little John” around school for the next week or so. And if that didn’t make things worse, Mr. Keating even jokingly called him son from time to time. Poor Todd was really living the tough life.

~Charlie~

Charlie, Charlie has no shame, Charlie doesn’t get embarrassed. Well that’s what he’ll tell you at least. And it’s mostly true, but there is one thing that gets to Mr. Dalton, only one thing that will make his face go red and his palms sweaty. And that is the fact that he can’t ride a bike. As soon as the poets figured this out, they would not let him live it down because, who would miss an opportunity to embarrass the Charlie Dalton as he has embarrassed others, many of times.

This sad fact came to light when Knox asked if he wanted to go on a bike ride with him, and Charlie had to sheepishly explain that, at the age of 17, he was still unable to ride a bike. He begged of Knox not to let this conversation get spread around school, to which he agreed. Until the next day, when Charlie woke up, it quickly came to his notice that his secret inability to ride a bike had, in fact, been spread around the whole school.

~Meeks~

He accidentally kissed Todd. This was an embarrassing experience for the both of them, but most unfortunate for Meeks, sense his parents were right there to witness it.

He had been dared, by Knox, to kiss Todd. The blonde was a bit skeptical and hesitant, he didn’t like the idea of kissing Meeks, but he also didn’t want Meeks to seem like a wimp. So he just went with it, giving consent, like the good friend that he is. So, as the magic happened, as their lips touched and sparks flew, they weren’t paying attention to the door way, where both Meeks mom and dad sat, just watching in complete shock. Needless to say, Todd burst out into tears and Meeks almost threw up when they noticed they had silent spectators.

~Pitts~

There was many times that Pitts was called to the board and used the wrong “there”. He literally has no clue what’s the difference between their, they’re and there. As a senior in highschool, at 17 years old, he has absolutely no clue how they are supposed to be used in a sentence. Which makes being called up in front of the class a whole new level of stressful. Just praying that he doesn’t have to use any of those words in a paragraph. “Pitts, thats the wrong there.” “No it’s not, Charlie, stop doing this to me.” “YOU LITERALLY WROTE ‘THE DOG IS OVER THEIR’.”

~Cameron~

Onetime he down right said that Charlie had “cute feet” and it literally made the entire room go quiet, not a single word was spoken for about a minute. Charlie took off both his socks and shoes in the showers one day and Cameron pointed it out that he had “adorable feet”. Immediately, he knew he had messed up. He began to stress as he embarrassingly said “WHAT!? THEY’RE CUTE, LOOK AT HIS LITTLE BABY TOE.” He said while pointing, his face turning as red as his hair. He thought he could recover from that horrible mistake but at that point, he was just making it worse. It would be hard to come to terms with the fact that there was no recovery for him. Only people accusing him of having a foot fetish for the rest of his time spent at Welton.

~Knox~

Pees the bed. Regularly. He’s an avid bed pisser. And when Neil spotted him in the halls one night, dragging his piss drenched bed sheets to the wash, he couldn’t help but tell Todd. Todd quickly told Pitts, who told Meeks, who then told Charlie, who then told Cameron, along with the entire school. And poor Knox, he had never been more embarrassed when he walked into his first period class and Neil just said “Did you forget your diaper?” Those boys tortured him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the way, if you do or have done any of the things listed above, I am not trying to shame you I just thought it would be funny lmao.

#the 80s #dead poets society #dps #80s movies #1989 #1959 #neil perry #robert sean leonard #Todd Anderson #ethan hawke #Charlie Dalton #gale hansen #steven meeks #allelon ruggiero #gerard pitts #james waterston #Richard Cameron #dylan kussman #knox overstreet #josh charles #dps fandom #dps headcanons #dead poets society headcanons

[goggles-mcgee]

Random Batman Universe Headcanon

Though Bruce does have the reputation of billionaire playboy bachelor, it really only was true when he was a late teen before he left Gotham and didn't know what a healthy coping mechanism was (arguably still doesn't) and was coerced into the partying life by old friends from school and of course Gotham news and tabloids took advantage of the Prince of Gotham seen partying, kissing various people, drinking nights and days away, and sleeping during meetings.

A lot of people recognized that it was basically a boy just going through some shit and others latched onto the image of Gotham's Golden boy being as bad as the rest of them. People still latch onto that idea even if it's not true today.

Truth be told he doesn't party unless you count charity galas and birthdays parties. He rarely drinks unless its to toast or he feels he really needs or deserves a drink because he hated how he used to be when drinking and vowed not to drink like that again. And he doesn't "date" like he used to. The only reason why he still has various partners is because one if not all his kids had a problem with the person he was dating or the person he was dating had a problem with his kids so he would promptly end things.

But because of all these relationships ending, some news websites, channels, and all the tabloids love to sell the playboy bachelor angle any time they can. Bruce and a lot of Gotham are sick of it. Especially his exes who have gone on record saying the only reason things ended was because Bruce cared too much about his kids to focus on them, he worked too much on his Gotham projects and it often got in the way of their relationship, some were just super not ready to be a step parent to Gotham's own Cheaper by the Dozen, etc. Surprisingly, to Bruce at least, his exes are some of his biggest defenders when it comes to that particular rumor.

Though there are a few exes who of course speak badly of him but the public don't pay it any attention. Since one of those exes was sucker punched by one Jason Todd because the young boy had heard them say they were only with Bruce for his money and had plans to make him send "the rats" to boarding school.

Basically, with the exception of some, the news uses the "playboy bachelor" title/rumor completely as a joke.

Examples:

Playboy Bachelor Patriarch of Wayne Clan At It Again!

Bruce Wayne spotted accompanying his many kids to the zoo, no doubt the stud was on the prowl for a date! A date with Gotham's Zoo itself so he could donate his money to it yet again. This billionaire sweetheart just won't stop!

#batfamily #batman comics #batman #batman headcanon #my batman universe #goggles batman universe #bruce wayne #billionaire playboy bruce wayne #gotham loves their billionare and his many many kids okay? #back off or they will fight you #headcanon

[rynne311]

Pizza and Beer

Summary: When friends move, you help out in exchange for pizza and beer. Those are the rules, even when you don't like beer and you like your friend way more than just a friend.

Word Count: 1353

The offer had been simple enough. Jason offered you pizza and beer if you helped him move. You weren't sure how much help you could actually be, but you weren't about to pass up the chance to spend the day with your friend. Deep down, though, you wished this was a moving in together kind of move instead, but for as well as Jason knew you, he was no mind reader, especially when it came to your feelings for him.

You were surprised when you got out of the moving truck he'd rented to find all of the big furniture had already been moved in. You assumed that meant he'd already moved his gear to avoid any wandering eyes as well. Together, you spent all morning moving all of the smaller boxes in tandem. The time flew by as you both joked around with each pass in the hallway and stairwell.

Before you knew it, every last box was upstairs and you were busying yourself unpacking them while Jason took care of grabbing the pizza he'd promised you. This may not be your home, but you tried to add your personal touch to the apartment.

"Helping reward's here," he announced as he set the pizza box and a couple of beers on the empty coffee table. You made a mental note to grab some large decorative books for him to put there. With a smile, you got up from your spot in front of the bookcase and joined him on the couch for a well deserved break.

The two of you had finished most of the pizza, and were quite satisfied you'd found the best pizza spot in the neighborhood, before Jason noticed he was the only one with an empty bottle. When he looked a little closer he realized you hadn't even touched the beer he'd grabbed for you.

"You good over there?" he asked. You almost thought he might still be joking around and about to make some crack about some pizza spilled on your shirt. When you looked down and confirmed nothing had fallen onto your shirt, you couldn't hide the confusion that painted your face and furrowed your brows together.

"Yeah," you confirmed cautiously. "Why?"

"I mean you've busted your ass all day and now you won't touch your beer," he explained. "You usually go drink for drink with me and now you're not so it seems like something's wrong."

"I'm fine, I promise. I just don't like beer," you explained. His puzzled look begged you to continue. "When we're at the bar I always get mixed drinks or wine. Now if you'd made a pitcher of margaritas, you never would have had a chance to even try them. But a blender really isn't the top of the list to unpack."

You may have answered his question, but you left him with so many more. He brought his own drink to his mouth in an attempt to hide his visible confusion. It almost worked, but you caught the way his brows furrowed from above the bottle.

"It's probably safer this way anyway," you remarked, trying to inject a bit of humor. "You know me and tequila are a dangerous combination. Just like the song, sometimes it just means clothes start falling off."

Jason hummed in absent agreement, but you could tell you'd already lost him. He'd jumped down the rabbit hole of questions, and he wasn't going to be really listening, or at least processing what was said, until he reemerged.

"So why'd you come today?" he asked. "When I asked you, I told you I'd get pizza and beer, so you knew I didn't have anything else to offer, but you still accepted."

It felt like a now or never kind of moment. One of the ones where you could be bold or you could be practical. You mulled over your options for what felt like an eternity, and while you wanted to be bold, you didn't want to lose what you had. Instead of answering, you grabbed another piece of pizza to buy a little time. The eye roll you got in return told you Jason knew exactly what you were doing.

"I thought I could be helpful," you finally answered as you finished your slice.

"That doesn't feel like the whole answer," Jason scoffed.

"Maybe," you confirmed. "But it also begs the question why you asked me to come help today if you already had everything moved in up here but some boxes in a half empty moving truck, or why I'm the only person you asked to come help you?"

Taking a page out of your book, Jason snagged your untouched beer to avoid having to answer.

"You want a full answer? I'll give you as full an answer as you'll get for right now," you began. Now it seemed you may have finally found the courage to be bold. "I wanted to spend time with you. You're always off wrangling supervillains and drug lords, which don't get me wrong is great and all. It has dropped the number of break-ins in my building to almost none. But that doesn't mean I don't miss you, because I do. I always do. A lot."

He started to choke on his drink, telling you you'd given a little more of an answer than you'd wanted to give. You couldn't say you were a fan of this emotional vulnerability, but your chest did feel ever so slightly lighter. You tried to read his face for a moment for some sort of reciprocation, but feeling the heat rise in your own face forced you to turn back to your empty plate. Your eyes only darted back over to him once you heard the bottle connect with the table.

"Maybe I wanted to spend time with you too. Maybe I didn't want all of the noise with my brothers and Roy around, especially when they manage to break something." With each 'maybe,' his voice grew a little more pointed and defensive, and you thought you could see a vulnerability that mirrored your own in his eyes. "Maybe I wanted this place to have your touch and feel like you. Maybe -"

You cut him off, leaning across the couch and kissing him. It was too rare in life that you got a second chance on a now or never moment, and you didn't want to squander it. You could only describe the feeling as a wave of excitement followed by a rush of relief when he raised his hand to your face and pulled you closer, returning the kiss.

"Maybe," his voice was softer now, almost cracking, "Maybe I've wanted that to happen for a very long time."

You felt breathless, but that didn't stop the smile from growing across your face. This time when you looked in his eyes, they seemed to share your mixture of excitement and relief. You couldn't help yourself as a small chuckle broke through.

"You like me, you really, really like me," you teased in a sing-song voice, only pausing to make kissy noises in the air. "You like -"

Having had his own feelings confirmed, Jason cut off your teasing as he pulled you into another kiss. When you both finally let go, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, watching as your eyes shifted back into focus. He wore a self-assured grin as he said, "There's no maybe about that."

"No, I don't think there is," you agreed. You sat back a little, trying to sear this moment into your memory forever. "Who would've thought a stupid beer could make this happen?"

"I should have brought you some beer to not drink ages ago," he joked, pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You settled into your contentment in his arms, knowing now you may never have to leave this feeling again. "Next time I'll have tequila, it sounded like those consequences are fun."

You rolled your eyes in response as you wiggled a little closer into his side. Yeah, some post-margarita consequences now sounded a lot more appealing.

Tags:

Everything: @societiesholyskittle @pickyblue12 @icycoldbeanieweanies @thoughtfullychaoticdreamer @bloatedandlonly @sakurafille @jason-todd-squad @childofposeidonforlife @webcraft4eveh @bookish-and-shy @dnarez @thirstiestpotato

Jason: @jason-todd-rh @princessowly1234 @manymanyenvelopes @drarrylov3r @axa-vega

Want to be tagged? Let me know via message or ask box!

#Jason Todd x reader #Jason Todd reader insert #Jason Todd imagine #batfamily x reader #batfamily reader insert #batfamily imagine #batfam x reader #batfam reader insert #batfam imagine #dc comics x reader #dc x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #red hood imagine #x reader #reader insert #jason todd #dc comics reader insert #dc comics imagine

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

#dylan o’brien #dylan o’brien x reader #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o'brien x y/n #dylan o'brien x fem!reader #dylan o'brien gifs

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Never Forgotten (Jason Todd X Male!Reader)

Characters: Jason Todd X Male!Reader

Universe: DC, Batman

Warnings: bit of swearing, mention of injury 

Request: ArkhamKnight!Jason x Male!reader: They were together before Jason 'died' and M!R never forgave Bruce for not taking revenge. M!R finds Jason after the Bat showdown, hurt and confused and takes him home to take care of him, to show Jay that he's loved and worth it and M!R will never let anyone hurt him again?

It has been a lonely 5 years for you. A lot had changed. Batman had a new Robin, Dick had started working with his old man again… and you were alone. You weren’t on speaking terms with Bruce, though you spoke occasionally with Dick and Barbara and Alfred, but not Bruce. You hadn’t spoken to him since Jason’s funeral. 

You had been Jason’s boyfriend when he had died. Being young and in love, Bruce had never really taken your relationship seriously, but for you and Jason it had been serious. You’d talked about future plans together, like what you both wanted in a living space, how you’d decorate it, any pets you’d have, stuff like that. You knew about him being Robin and the sort of family business, and you were always spending time at the Manor, either just helping Alfred out or talking to Jason on the comms. Alfred you felt was the most welcoming in the family, especially since at the time Dick wasn’t on speaking terms so he didn’t really know you. In fact, it had been him to give you the news that Jason had been kidnapped, and then that he had been killed. 

It was at that funeral that you had asked Bruce what was going to happen now. His response, despite how he tried to phrase it, was simple- nothing. He was going to do nothing. He wasn’t going to make sure Joker paid for taking away Jason, for hurting hundreds of people before him… You were livid. You still were, five years later, promising to never forgive him or even to talk to him until he fixed things. He was yet to do that. 

You had tried to make a life for yourself, though every day you still thought of Jason. Your apartment had been both of your idea of the perfect apartment, you even implemented some things you knew he’d want in there, like a bookshelf full of books and little hidden areas around the apartment to hide weapons just to be safe. You worked mostly in the same field and the Waynes, though you found your ways around talking to Bruce, mostly through Alfred, Barbara or Dick or when things were dire, Tim. Bruce had tried to talk to you multiple times but you always cut off communications without saying a word, simply walking away, and if he tried to stop you leaving you straight up punched him. 

Tonight had been the closest you had gotten to actually talking to Bruce. Scarecrow had wreaked havoc on Gotham- thousands were injured, hundreds either having long term effects or even dead due to the gas he’d drowned the city in, accompanied by a new face, or mask. Red Hood. You’d left the Wayne’s to deal with the big guys while you worked on getting as many people as possible into safe locations free of the toxin, or out of the city. Admittedly you hadn’t heard much from the family, other than what was being reported over the police radio, and little texts you were getting from Alfred. That was until the early mornings when your phone rang again, and you picked it up without checking. “Hello?” 

“Y/N, don’t hang up, just listen.” Bruce’s voice begged from the other sighed. You huffed, but stayed on the line. “It’s Jason. Red Hood is Jason. I don’t know where he is, but he’s angry and he won’t listen to me. You’re the only one who stands a chance at calming him down.” He told you. Only then did you hang up, and you immediately took to the streets. 

You searched every nook and cranny, desperately looking for any sign of Jason. A large part of you doubted Bruce, but you knew that Bruce would never joke about Jason being alive, especially at a time like this, with you. He had no reason to, and it was out of character for him, so you had no choice to believe him, and you couldn’t deny the fact that part of you desperately wanted it to be true. Still with this belief, it was still a shock when you actually found him.

You’d followed a blood trail leading from an opening to the underground, following it into an alley, which is where you found him, slumped against some trash cans, hurt and barely conscious. You approached carefully. “Jason?” You called quietly when there was still some distance between you both. His head shot up to look at you, and he grabbed his gun, pointing it at you. You didn’t move. “Jesus, Jason. What did he do to you?” You asked, taking slow steps forward and squatting in front of him. He dropped his gun, groaning in pain. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

“I’m not going back to that fucking manor-”

“I’m not talking about there, dumbass.” You told him, putting his arm around your neck and heaving him up, walking him out the alley and to your car, putting him inside and getting in yourself, starting to drive. The streets were bare, most people still hiding or out of the city, the only clear sound was the sound of sirens from police cars and ambulances. Eventually you got to your apartment complex, stopping the car, pulling him out and helping him in the building. You looked up the stairs, suddenly hating your decision to be on the top floor. 

“How are we getting up there, then?” Jason asked you, leaning on the wall weakly. 

“Good to see you didn’t leave your snarkiness in the grave.” You commented at him, before grabbing him, heaving him onto your shoulder. You heard him mumble, calling you an asshole, but you just smirked to yourself, heading up the stairs till you reached your apartment, unlocking the door and walking inside, dropping him on the couch before turning back and locking the door. You turned the lights on, turning back around, and finally properly looking at Jason. He seemed to be doing the back to you. He was a lot taller, and more built than when you’d last seen him, and you could see the J carved into his cheek, now a not so subtle scar. However, you could stare for long. You came over to him, checking him over seeing where he was hurt. “I’ll get you some fresh clothes. Do you want to take a shower?” You asked him. 

“Y/N-”

“I’ll get you something to eat, I’ve got some pizza in the freezer.” You offered, going to move to the kitchen before Jason grabbed your arm, stopping you. You looked back at him. Jason was looking at you, and then he looked around at his surroundings. He eyed up the bookshelf, the colour of the wallpaper, the little nicnacs littered around… little hints of his influence. “Don’t worry, Bruce isn’t welcome here… haven’t talked to that asshole since your death.” You assured him.

“...You didn’t forget about me… you didn’t move on?” He asked you. 

“How the hell could I, Jay?” You asked him, coming back to him, sitting on the coffee table in front of him. “You’re my world. We planned our future together, I couldn’t just move on.” 

“...Have you really not spoken to Bruce since I died?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Not a word. He’s tried to talk to me but I won’t hear him. The only time I’ve ever listened to anything he’s said to me was when he said you were alive and somewhere in Gotham, but I didn’t say anything back. He doesn’t know where I live so you’re safe here.” You assured him. “And you can stay here as long as you want. Noone’s gonna hurt you here.” You told him. 

Jason stared at you for a long time. You couldn’t really read his eyes and understand what was going through his head, but you did see one thing. You saw him remember why he loved you in the first place. A faint smile came to his lips. “Thank you Y/N… for all of this… I’m gonna go take that shower.” He said, heaving himself up. You got up as well ready to help, not prepared for him to wrap his arms around you, giving you a quick peck, before limping to the bathroom. “I’ll call if I need help.” 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @theplacewhererobindied  @rebellionofthecattle  @hello-love-youre-pretty  @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lena-stan-xavier​ @lady-of-lies​ @sebstanismylife​ @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​ @huntheimpossible

#DC comics #DC #batman #bruce wayne #Jason Todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male!reader #x reader #reader #x male!reader #male!reader #oneshot #writing #story writing #question #request #ask me anything #ask questions #send me things #send me anything #send me asks

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: None (let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: Everyone is talking about the mysterious new guy on campus

A/N: I had a ton of fun writing this extremely self-indulgent AU and I have plans to keep writing more about these two. It won’t be an actual chaptered fic, but at some point I’ll throw together a masterlist with a chronological order to things.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Introductions

The semester had only started four weeks ago and he was already a legend around campus. Almost everywhere someone could be found whispering about him. You'd even heard faculty speculating, wondering about the rumors they overheard their students sharing.

You first heard of him in your literature seminar, some of your fellow classmates discussing a recent rumor about the now fabled man. Something about a motorcycle and a child caught your ear, prompting you to interrupt and the girls in front of you who they were talking about. 

The looks you received from the pair were incredulous at best. “You mean you haven’t heard about him?”

“Heard about who?” you asked, genuinely confused. It had only been the first week of class at the time and you were too caught up with your own busy start to check in on the rumor mill.

“Mando, obviously. He’s all anyone is talking about.” From there the girls had happily filled you in on all the latest sightings and rumors. 

Mando, as they called him, was shrouded in mystery. He'd popped up on Corellia University's campus when the semester began and no one knew a thing about him. He hadn't gone to Corellia before, internet searches turned up nothing, and even the skull-like symbol on the back of his leather jacket wasn't familiar to anyone. Any information on him was conjecture at best and there was plenty to go around. Once the rest of the class caught onto what you three were discussing, theories began to fly.

People discussed how he’d been spotted downtown, beating on some guys in a back alley. He’d also been seen uptown the same night though, strolling through Basalt Park. One girl was nearly certain that she’d gone to elementary school with Mando, but he’d mysteriously disappeared one day without explanation. Someone else was confident he was just a cop trying some weird shtick to go undercover. Then one person insisted he had a kid with him sometimes while another was trying to explain that he was actually a murderer. The rumors only became more ludicrous from there.

By the end of the discussion you only ascertained two things for certain. He went by the name Mando and he wore some kind of special helmet. Information you could have gotten by watching him pick up a drink at the Java Hut. Not nearly enough to warrant this level of fervor in your opinion.

From there, hearing about Mando was inescapable. You got home that night only to have your roommate and best friend, Layla, launch into theories about him. Within the week someone set up a social media page to try and track his location around campus via DMs fellow students sent in. That had struck you as invasive and unsettling, but the messages about him kept flooding in.

By pure chance, you had yet to actually see him for yourself. There weren't even any creep shots for you to look at. People had been trying to take photos of him, but he was like a ghost. In the time it took them to pull up their cameras he'd disappear. 

There wasn't even more concrete information about him beyond what you'd learned that first day. Just more and more speculation, a good amount of it made up purely for the shock factor. Another week slipped by, the semester picking up, and Mando news became standard in your day. There was always something new going around about him and as much as you tried to avoid it and focus on your studies, you couldn’t help but wonder about him yourself.

Who was this guy? Was this all some stunt or ‘social experiment’ that would be revealed by a sociology student at the end of the semester? Or was he a legitimate peculiarity, doomed to stick out like a sore thumb? You weren’t sure if you should hate him for making a big deal out of himself or pity him for all the unwarranted attention. Either way, you were sure that whenever you met this enigmatic Mando, you’d know.

×××××

You grumble looking at the submission form. The name and student ID information is blank again. You told Todd last week those fields needed to be made mandatory. How else were you supposed to know who to email when you end up with a no-show for the hour?

Looking further down you're pleased to note that they're at least a grad student. Despite the unfinished form, graduates almost never skip sessions like these. You're thrilled to have the opportunity to discuss something other than freshman composition for once. It's fun helping the wide-eyed freshies, but you can only go over basic comma rules so many times before you start to lose it a little.

There's a knock at the study room door and you look up only to be rendered speechless. It's him. Mando. With a kid on his hip. So Alissandra hadn’t been lying when she told you about the toddler she saw with him. Interesting. Continuing to take him in, you can’t help but focus on the obvious - the only thing you knew about him other than his supposed name, the helmet. 

It’s unlike anything you've seen before. You're fairly certain it's a motorcycle helmet, but it's been modified. Rather than the typical rounded shape, his is all sharp angles and flat at the front. It’s colored a sleek, shining chrome that gleams under the washed out fluorescent lighting. Most arresting is the way he's changed the face of the helmet. The cheeks dip inward at a sharp angle, creating deep, curved contours. His visor is a T of black glass in the center, entirely impossible to see through. It's intimidating and… kinda hot?

The little boy he's holding starts to wiggle in his grasp, physically demanding to be set down in the study room. Once his feet touch the floor, he immediately runs over and climbs into the chair next to you. He's a welcome distraction from his father’s? brother's? guardian's? commanding presence in the room.

The boy can't be older than three, smiling up at you with a wide toothy grin. His hair is covered by a green beanie with large floppy ears sewn onto it and he's wearing a little brown jacket with a sherpa collar. Maybe a bit too heavy for the early autumnal weather, but if the rumor that the kid rides on a motorcycle with Mando is true, it’s perfect. His eyes are large and brown, shining up at you with a slightly mischievous glint.

"Hello, what's your name?" you ask, smiling back at the child.

"Grogu," comes the reply, not from the kid, but from Mando.

You arch an eyebrow at him. He can't be serious with that name. "Grogu?" you ask.

He shrugs, placing his bag on the table. "I came home one day and he told his babysitter that was his name now. He won't respond to anything else. So, Grogu."

You look back to the bouncing toddler. He's still grinning, nodding along with what's been said about his name. They must not be lying then. Either that, or it was some elaborate prank between them and you would never be in on the joke. 

"Well okay, Grogu it is." 

You extend your hand out to Mando, offering your name alongside it. He offers a leather clad hand in return, giving you a firm handshake. You're pleased when he only gives your hand a gentle squeeze, not crushing it like so many other students have done. His gloves are unique as well, black with orange fingers, the leather well worn in. It's warm to the touch, his body heat radiating through the thick fabric. 

"Mando," he says, officially introducing himself as he takes the seat on your other side, across from Grogu.

"Mando," you repeat, cementing it as a truth from the rumor mill. "Got any other names?" You hope that comes across as casual and not intrusive. He hasn't even gone to remove his helmet, telling you he isn't a man who cares much for people prying into his business.

"No. Why?" Mando cocks his head slightly as he asks, the helmet adding an exaggerated look to the movement. He reaches into his bag, pulls out some crayons and a pad of paper, pushing them over to Grogu.

You shrug, trying not to think about how you heard his name might be David from someone in your composition course. "Just thought I'd ask. One hears many things around campus and it's hard to tell what's true or not."

"What do you mean?"

That question makes you pause. Surely he knows. Part of you is still convinced he’s doing this act on purpose, trying to gain notoriety for some reason. The way he asked though, something about it tells you that the poor man is clueless about the buzz he's caused.

"Mando, you're like the talk of the town right now. We only just met but I've heard plenty about you," you explain. It's hard to tell with the helmet on, but you're fairly sure he's shocked underneath. Grogu ignores you both, excitedly scribbling away on his paper.

"I'm fairly sure most of it's just rumor and speculation, but still. You're like a thing around campus," you add.

He's quiet for a moment, his laptop only half out of his bag. "Oh," he finally says. "I didn't know."

Grogu gives a happy shriek not a second later, breaking the awkward tension that had begun to creep into the room. He's beaming, holding up his crayola masterpiece. On the paper there is what appears to be a hastily drawn frog using every color in the box.

Mando returns to himself, pulling his laptop the rest of the way and continues to get set up. "Great job, kid. It looks good."

Most people would have said that dismissively, a platitude to get their child to stop bothering them. When Mando says it though, the authenticity is palpable. He said six words and you can hear the pride lacing them all together. It’s sweet, the obvious affection this clearly private man has for the toddler. 

You can’t help but wonder what his connection to Grogu actually is. The way he spoke just then, if you had to put your money on it, you’d say father. The kicker then though is if he’s biological or not. And if not, then how else does a grad student get strapped with a three year old? Thinking about all the potential scenarios is enough to make your head hurt.

You’re also left wondering where all the more violent rumors about him are coming from. His tenderness is so readily on display that it’s hard to imagine the man before you choking someone because they cut him in line at the local froyo shop. He’s mysterious and gives off a vaguely dangerous vibe, sure, but less than five minutes around him and the kid and it’s obvious he’s no threat to you. He’s just a guy trying to get his assignments done for class, same as everyone else.

Your stomach still catches in your throat as Mando starts unexpectedly tugging off his gloves. From what you’d heard, he never takes anything off: not his jacket, not his gloves, and certainly not his helmet. All anyone knows of his true appearance on campus is that he’s obviously male with rumors flying around about everything else including simple attributes, like the color of his skin. Now, here he is, casually revealing this groundbreaking information to you.

His hands move fluidly, pulling off each glove in just a few easy tugs. His skin matches the heat you felt from them just minutes ago, a warm golden tan, with a few faded lines of scars worn in. Watching him type, pulling his paper up for you to discuss, you feel a deep and sudden ache to have his hands touch you again. A simple handshake is no longer enough. Every stroke of the keys is measured, deliberate, and leaves you wondering how he would use those fingers on you.

“This is what I have so far.”

His voice snaps you back to reality, a quick wave of shame washing over you. Where did all of that come from? It was just a man’s hands for heaven’s sake, certainly not something you should be horny about at two in the afternoon. Not to mention that he came in here looking for your help, not wanting you to start fantasizing about his hands expertly working you over.

You clear your throat and tear your eyes away from the offending appendages. “Great, let me just read the introduction here so I can get an idea for what you’re writing about.”

You settle into working with him easily. His paper is already well-written, just needing tweaks here and there to bring it to the next level. It’s nice working with him. He’s attentive, clearly listening to everything you have to say and taking it into account. He doesn’t even try to challenge you as some of the more macho male students are wont to do. By the end of the session, you can’t help but wish all of your time as a tutor was that easy.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely, tucking his laptop away. “You really helped.”

You smile at him, thrilled with his genuine complement. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for.”

He finishes packing up his and Grogu’s things, with you silently lamenting as his gloves slide back on. It still feels like a ridiculous thought, but he really does have beautiful hands. There’s a small tap on your arm and you look to your left to see Grogu patiently waiting. He’s offering something to you, paper outstretched in his little hands.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the sheet from him. You look at it to see a frog carefully drawn on the page. It’s not the same as the first one he showed you and Mando, this one more deliberate and thoughtful. The colors are still just as varied, but it’s obvious he took more time to think about where he was using each one. You can’t help but smile at his small masterpiece.

“It looks great, buddy. I’ll keep it forever,” you tell him. Grogu beams at your praise, excitedly looking over to Mando. 

Mando nods at the kid. “Yeah kid, I heard her too.” He turns his head towards you. “Thank you again. I’d take good care of that drawing. He’ll never forgive you if he finds out you got rid of it.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again?” Your own boldness takes you by surprise. You have no idea where that came from, how those words spilled without a second thought. Part of you is already cringing at Mando’s potential reaction.

He surprises you once again though, holding a hand out for Grogu to take. Shouldering his backpack, you hear an amused huff of air from under the helmet. “Yeah, mesh’la, I’ll see you around.”

There isn’t a chance to reply as Mando turns, escorting his tiny charge out of the room with him. You’re a little dumbstruck, now equally surprised with him as you had been with yourself. 

And what was that name he just called you? Mesh’la? You don’t even know what language that could have been, much less the meaning. Something about his tone when he said it tells you it’s a good thing though, that he’s not secretly calling you rude names in some unknown language. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever get to find out.

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