#i literally have not caught up on comics at all lately but I heard Dick is a the new face of the Justice League and this is all i thought

[haroldhighballjordan]

*Nightwing is publicly announced as the new Leader of the Justice League*

Deathstroke, barging into the Hall of Doom: *shoves Lex out of his seat at the head of the table* “Wow, I’d like to thank you all so much for this promotion.”

[lady-grace-pens]

Wip Excerpt: HTKAG

In light of this wip hitting another 10k word goal recently (currently sitting pretty at a whopping 120k/150k 😅), another excerpt is due! This babe I wrote today, buut I actually loved it so much I knew I had to share it with y'all right away. That all being said, let's stop wasting time and get straight into it!

Our scene begins with Allister entering a restaurant to have dinner with Mikko, Fingal, and Perci, but Perci is late.

—

Upon telling the hostess Fingal’s name, she leads me away to the right half of the room. Off in a booth stowed away in the corner sit Mikko and Fingal jabbering away mid-conversation. Once they notice me, they stop and smile.

“Hey! There’s the man of the hour,” Mikko exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“Not late, am I?” I grin, taking a seat beside him.

“Nope. Right on time to get some drinks,” Mikko starts smouldering at our hostess.

“With what money?” Fingal retorts with a glare.

Mikko blinks, struggling to come up with a defense. It seems he mustn't have anticipated Fingal to interrupt his attempt at flirting…

“Wha - With our money, of course,” he laughs, trying his best to make a smooth recovery.

“Aye. Which is why we’re not using my money to buy alcohol while a minor is here.”

Mikko doesn’t reply. Then again I suppose he doesn't need to, his confusion is written all over his face.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about Perci. He’ll be here any minute.”

“Oh! Fuck, that’s right. Him. Well obviously he won’t be getting any. And come on! You know how fast I can down a beer Fin! It’ll just be a few. Just a few rounds! Don’t be an ass.”

“Watch yourself Mikko, it's not polite to use such language in the presence of a lady.” I chime in, giving the hostess a polite smile.

“Oh I’ll show you what’s not polite-” Mikko says before slapping my head.

I try to hit him back, but he catches my hand before I can. Before we know it, we’re caught in a ridiculous slapping fight, both laughing our asses off.

“Not in a restaurant, not in a restaurant!” I speak through gasps, trying to end things.

Mikko obliges, tossing his hands back in his lap.

“A waiter will be right with you,” the hostess makes a case to look at each one of us except for Mikko before finishing her sentence, “... gentleman.”

Much to my surprise, Mikko doesn’t seem to be affected by that backhanded insult. Instead he kicks his knees up against the table and rests his head back, totally listless.

“Mikko, I would’ve thought you’d be more offended by that.”

“Huh? Why would I be offended at something when it’s true?”

“I’ll say. You and Al couldn’t be any more opposite. If there’s anything larger than the truth, the fact that you’re not a gentleman is way beyond it.”

“Exactly. And Mikko, you are aware of the fact that she was just a hostess, right? It isn’t even her job to serve us drinks.”

“I... “ Mikko laughs before leaning over the table again. “Listen. You two just don’t get it, do you? No. You don’t. Allow me to be the one who graces your palettes here, eh? Let me tell you what I’m gonna do. Okay? I’m gonna give you a tip. A piece of advice that will change your lives forever. All for free! You don’t even have to pay me. All you gotta do is listen. Got it? You both ready?”

Fingal and I share a look. I can tell we’re thinking along a similar vein of confused intrigue. We should most likely stop Mikko here, as whatever will come out his mouth won’t be anything good. However, we’re both too stunned to stop him, so…

Mikko beckons us to lean closer to him. Fin and I oblige. We’re almost touching heads when at last our dear mentor speaks once again, in a hushed voice. “It’s not about what you say. It’s about how you say it.”

…

There are no words. For about a minute straight Fingal and I are just staring at each other wearing the same expression that exudes two questions. ‘What the fuck? You’ve heard that too, haven’t you?’

Soon after that’s established and our shock subsides, we burst back to life. Fingal starts us off with, “Dammit Mikko. What the fuck? Where did you learn that? Who taught you that?”

“Some guys from the bar! Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“Which guys from the bar?”

“I don’t see how it-”

“Mikko. Which guys from the bar taught you this?” Fingal insists, a flash of anger showing in his eyes.

Mikko seems to notice this, and complies straight away. “Leo, John, Peter and Paul!”

Fingal buries his head in his hands. This sparks my curiosity. I haven’t heard these names before, but Fin clearly has.

“I can’t say I’m familiar with them, who might they be?”

“Bar friends-” Mikko starts, only for Fingal to finish for him.

“Jokesters. Jerks. Cheapskates always looking for a laugh. Assholes. Can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind.”

Mikko shrinks away from Fin. His head is turned away from me, but I don’t need to see it in order to know how stunned he is. It’s expressed flawlessly through the abnormal quietness of his voice. “Fin? What’s up, why’d you-”

“Because those dicks have been filling your head with shit like this every damn time I turned my back, Mikko! Dammit, this - this is why you always get rejected! Universe, I just wish you would’ve checked with me first about things like this. Not some strangers you barely even know, yet idolize them anyway.

You wanna know how you get a girl Mikko? Huh? You be nice. You be nice to them, you talk with them, and you listen. Compliments and flirting, all that helps, of course, but not forever! And you sure as hell can’t build a relationship strictly off of it. Okay? Standards and expectations vary from girl to girl, but with each and every single one there are a few things that you just have to do. Be nice, have respect, help them just for the sake of helping them! Don’t expect anything in return. Overall just - just be a decent fucking human being. That is how you get a girl.”

Mikko sits there, staring at his brother. I can’t help but do the same. In every respect, Fingal is right. Of course he is. It’s just… rare that we see him so worked up. I can hardly believe my eyes. I can hardly believe my ears, I… I can’t imagine how Mikko must be feeling.

Oh so gradually his head sinks down into his lap. He slumps over, and I swear I can see fractions of tears reflect the golden light radiating above us.

“Can’t believe I’m actually telling you this when you’re eighteen. Fucking eighteen,” Fingal scoffs, crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad at you. This is my own fault, I blame myself.”

“Aw, come on man! That’s even worse,” pouts Mikko.

Fingal then turns to me with an abruptness that makes me jump. “Al, what’s up? You’ve been quiet for a while. You can back me up on this, can’t you?”

“I…” I force a chuckle to try and lighten the air some. “I don’t think that I’m currently in a position to give advice like this, to be honest with you.”

Fingal leans his elbows on the table, holding his head with one hand. “Why? Something happen with Maddie?”

“Oh, did it ever,” I shake my head.

—

Aand that's all you guys get for spoiler reasons! Lmao

(also because that's all I've written today but shhhh don't tell anyone)

Buut yeah. Legit I swear I didn't mean to go so hard on feminist Fingal 😂 I mean don't get me wrong here, he's absolutely right and I'm keeping it in. But still, the words just kept on coming and coming and we ended up with this

so

y'know

yeah

writing is super fun sometimes

Plus tbh, writing the part where Mikko is stroking his ego and whispers his ‘top secret trick to get women’, I was literally laughing out loud 😂 like he's just so wrong, and I love how horribly Mikko fails in life. It's just super funny to me, I enjoy it a lot.

Fingal, however, clearly does not enjoy it, lmao. Legit I had no clue he could be so protective until today! Especially over Mikko. I mean I always knew their dynamics, but today… it really hit home for me.

Go back and look at the line of dialogue Fingal says right after Mikko apologizes (a rare occurrence, actually).

It’s just one little piece of dialogue, barely a few sentences! Yet I feel like it hits you. You know? It reveals so much about his and Mikko’s vibes, their situation. A pair of brothers poor and orphaned by their birth parents and raised by their grandmother, who is only growing older and weaker each year. Fingal, the eldest, having to take responsibility often. He feels pressured to raise his little bro, and feels like he's failed when Mikko turns out to be the way he is. Ya know? It's just one little thing of dialogue but I feel like it makes you feel the pressure Fin has to bear in a situation like theirs. Even if it’s only for a moment.

And Mikko! While he does incite a lot of the comic relief in HTKAG, I wouldn’t call him a strict comic relief character because that's never what I had in mind while writing him. He and Fin actually play a vital role in the plot of the story! Much more than what I can currently reveal to y'all.

Buut anyways, I'll stop rambling now. I really hope you guys enjoyed this little excerpt just as much as I adored writing it :)

—

taglist (let me know if you want to be added or removed!): @vampire-with-a-pen @writingonesdreams @justyouraveragewriter @kazenokaori @dahladahlabills

[miss-choco-chips]

Young Just us college au

Rent a room, Dick said. It’ll be a nice experience. Don’t just buy a flat, that’s boring and lonely.

Tim had tried to tell his brother that maybe he prefered lonely to crazy, but Dick had insisted. And everyone knew just how difficult dealing with that could be, so he knew better than to resist.

At least, he had tried to comfort himself, he knew the people he’d be rooming with. They were all his friends, an odd assortment of assholes he’d picked up on school, summer camps, vacation trips, scientific events, even comic cons, and just… fell platonically in love with them.

Maybe, as Dick said, it would be fine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

No, it wasn’t fine.

-Jay -he whispered into the phone, hoping he wouldn't be heard by the others on the other side of the door- Jay, they are crazy. I need extraction asap. We could fake my death and I can go to University somewhere else.

The older man laughed in the other end of the receiver, the sound of pages rustling indicating Tim had caught him during his daily grading paper sesion. That was the sound of crying students dying over carefully demolished arguments.

-They are all your friends, Timbo. If you fake your death, you’ll need to start over again and meet new people.

Tim hissed.

-Exactly, babybird. Also, this is day one of sharing a house, how bad can it possibly be?

-Jay, they left the kitchen lights on. It’s daytime! Why the hell do they need the lights on? Aren’t they aware of how big the bill is gonna be if they are like this?

-...Timmy, you… you are a billionaire. I think that should be the last of your concerns.

-That’s not the only thing. It’s so noisy, Jay. I choose the attic room hoping it’ll be nice and quiet. It’s not. I can hear everything. What do I do if some of them pair up? I’ll be stuck here listening to them having sex forever!

-...I don’t know where to begin.

-You can start by contacting B for me. He was right when he said it wasn’t a good idea for me to live with other people. But I can’t call him to help me out of this, because I think Dick blocked my number in his phone, and my emails don’t seem to be reaching him.

-He said it because you are the purest of his children, and he knew college was corruptive enough without adding dorm sharing to it; that was his version of helicopter parenting. But Timbo, it’s moving day. You’ve been there for less than five hours. And you already emailed B?

-The first thing Slobo did when he came in was to fart. In the middle of the living room. I can’t live with them, they are animals!

-They are your best friends, you’ve known them forever.

-But I never had to deal with them in a closed space for an unlimited amount of time!!! I’m trapped here.

-...

-...!

-...Are you hiding in a closet?

-...no. That would be stupid, in a three story house where I have my own/

-You are, ain’tcha?

-I am. Please help me?

Long sigh- I’ll meet you for coffee on the place near the Economics building so you have an excuse to be out for the evening while the others finish their moving. You’re done with your part, right?

-Yes! Thank you!

-You owe me.

-Next time Dick wants bonding time, I’ll sacrifice myself volunteering so you can run.

-And this is why you’re my favorite. Be there in ten.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim? Tim! Here you are!

Blinking was a thing Tim suddenly remembered he needed to do, and he did it a few times as his eyes were dragged away from his book by a pair of hands on his cheeks.

-Kon? What are you doing in the library?

The other boy was panting slightly, flushed from what Tim guessed was a desperate run there.

-I was looking for you! You never came back after classes were done for the day, and you didn’t pick up your phone. We were very worried, dude. 

-I was just studying, chill.

-It’s almost midnight.

No, it couldn’t be.

-No, it isn’t.  I haven’t been here that long.

Serious and slightly worried, Conner thrusted his own phone in Tim’s face and… uh. Look at that. It was nearly midnight.

-Oh. Got distracted with research, sorry.

-It’s been barely two weeks, how much can you possibly need to study?

Unprompted, Kon started to help him pack his books and papers. He seemed utterly amazed by the almost illegible graphs and charts.

-No, this isn’t homework. I’m working on a thing for WE…

The rest of the way home was spent with Tim talking Conner’s ear off about shit he had absolutely no idea about, but didn’t complain, just holding Tim’s backpack with one hand while steering his sleep deprived friend back home with the other.

-.-.-.-.-.

-Bart? -Tim yawned, getting into the kitchen and raising a confused eyebrow at his friend- It’s… three am. What are you doing awake?

-Stress baking -the smaller boy replied, never stopping stirring the bowl- You?

-Papers and presentations.

-Classes or WE?

-Bit of both. What are you making?

-Cupcakes. Want some?

-They’ll go great with coffee, thanks.

They spent the next half hour waiting for the oven to do its magic talking about video games, classes and evil teachers.

-Your brother is the worst. TA. Ever. He always grades my papers and he’s a bitch about them.

-He relishes in the pain. It’s what keeps him young. I swear he never grew  past fifteen.

-It’s scary, and honestly so annoying. Like, I get pointing out mistakes, but he doesn’t need to be a passive aggressive ass about it.

-I’ll let him know what you think.

-Please don’t. I’m afraid of him, and the power he holds in his hands. The power to make me fail Creative Writing.

-Why are you even taking that class? Actually, what even is your major?

A shrug, and before Bart could open his mouth to reply, the timer let them know the cupcakes where done.

-You can have one before bedtime, dude. The circles under your eyes look like make up at this point. 

-You are one to talk, mister Stress Baking at Three in the Morning.

-But unlike you, I don’t have to be up at the ass of dawn. C’mon, have one of these and back up you go.

-Bite me.

-I’d rather bite this peanut butter miracle, but if you insist…

-No! Bart, get away from me!

-Then go to bed!

-Go to hell!

-I AM in hell! I have Jason Fucking Todd as my TA!

-IF YOU DON’T GO BACK TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’LL KICK YOU BOTH ALL THE WAY THERE! -Cassie’s voice echoed in the walls, and they both blanched at the reminder that her room was, in fact, in ground floor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A part of college Tim had never considered, let alone readied himself for, was the… party bit. 

-What do you mean, of course you’re coming -laughed Anita, clutches firm on Tim’s sleeve as she dragged him into hers and Cassie’s room.

-No, I have to study for…

-You don’t have any midterm or final this week. I know, because I checked. No papers due either. This is literally the perfect time for you to party. 

-I can’t, I…

-Suck at socializing? Yeah, cher, I’m aware. That’s why awesome me is taking you as my plus one for this party. No need to thank me, glad to be your social buffer whenever you need me.

Tim started to resist in earnest when they got into the room and he caught a glimpse of the clothing Anita had apparently chosen for him.

-There’s no way I’m fitting into those pants! Let me go!

-I’ve seen you squeezing your butt into the vent that one time when Kon threw the key to the coffee maker cabinet inside it. If you could get in there, these pants are a piece of cake.

-No!

-Don’t make me hurt you, Drake.

-Anita…!

-Ugh! -she stopped, dropping Tim on her bed and crossing her arms. She averted her eyes- My ex is gonna be at the party. I might have been exaggerating a bit when I said I was over him, but I already promised my friends I was gonna be there. I… could really use your help here. I know it’s not your scene, but Kon and Bart have midterms, Slobo would straight up punch my ex with his astounding lack of subtlety, Miguel is away dealing with family stuff, and the girls are awesome but not really what I need right now.

A pause.

-Okay, but I’m absolutely not putting on that crop top. And we better not end up wasted, I have a reputation to uphold.

Spoiler alert: he did put on the crop top. And they had to call Conner to walk them home after the third time Tim walked into a lamp post and Anita fell into the campus’ pond.

-.-.-.-.-

They were walking back home late on a Friday when they were approached by a group of stupid, drunk dudebros. Tim was already dreading the moments to come before they even spoke, just by the way they kept eyeing Cassie’s legs and Anita’s rack. Cissie herself was wearing loose pants and a sweater, so she was safe from their disgusting examination. Not that it kept her from crossing her arms and looking down at the assholes.

-Heyyyyy, ladies. Wanna go clubbing with us?

Tim shrugged- He’s talking to you, girls. I’m out. Have fun.

Cassie caught him by his hoodie before he could take a single step. He heard her warning clear as day and sighed, defeated.

-Yess, you can go -slurred Dudebro number two, waving him away- There’ three of us, and three of those pretty things. You can get lost. 

-See, Cass? Hear the gentlemen. You don’t need me here.

Anita kicked him in the shin.

-No. We just got our nails done. You either solve this peacefully, or take care of it if it turns dirty. Why do you even walk us home if not to protect us from creepers like these?

A loud ‘hey’ came from the dudebros, but Tim ignored them. Silently, he pointed at Cassie’s legs (he had seen her crushing a watermelon between them once), Cissie’s arms (a thing of beauty that made multiple lesbians all around campus cry) and Anita’s katana (that she wasn’t supposed to keep on her person around other students, but who was gonna enforce any rules on the girl with the giant knife?).

-Excuse me? You three should be protecting me. I’m a rich, sheltered boy.

Apparently done being ignored, the three idiots decided this was a good time to throw the first punch. Which Tim dodged, without breaking eye contact with Cassie. She raised her eyebrow, not moving an inch. Cissie was examining her nails. Anita’s eyes promised hell.

He sighed, turned around, caught the second coming punch, and used the hand under his palm to force the dudebro to his knees. A knee to the face and then he turned to the other two. 

Next time, Slobo was walking with them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Flip side:  the attic room had its own bathroom. Significantly smaller than the ones on the other two floors, but hey, no sharing. 

The downside: apparently, the bathroom vents all connected with one another, and because of their aligning schedules, he often took showers at the same time Miguel did.

Flip side: Miguel had the singing voice of an angel, and the acoustic was fantastic. Showers were rarely boring now.

Downside again: Tim often forgot himself and sang along, but his voice… wasn’t as pretty.

Flip side again: at least, judging by Miguel’s smile, he found it adorable rather than pathetic.

Downside number three: Greta and Cissie’s room, by some unsolved mystery, also had connecting vents to the bathroom, and the archer girl was… less charitable about Tim’s inability to sing.

Flip side: Greta liked him better than most of their house mates, and she had more than enough dirt on Cissie to keep her from sharing the secret of Tim’s awful voice. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry I’m calling just now, it’s been a while.

-Hey Jay. Don’t worry, you’re busy grading papers.

-How do you know?

-Bart was crying in the tub this morning. Completely clothed and eating nachos with whipped cream, I might add.

-What is that boy even studying? I know he has Chem classes, Roy is his TA, and Kory saw him in the designer’s building. 

-That is an unsolved mystery for the ages. 

-Hey, speaking of your housemates, how’s it going?

Tim stopped on his way out of the kitchen, eyes growing fond as he examined the group on the living room. They were fighting over that night’s movie choice. He didn’t know why they tried, Greta was gonna win. Nobody could resist her and Miguel’s puppy eyes. 

-It’s… it’s been great, actually.

-Uh huh.

-But don’t tell Dick. He’ll be unbearably smug.

-Of course I won’t. You still have that time I crashed B’s favorite car on me.

-Oh, Oh fuck! -came Slobo’s voice- TIM, BRING THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

A loud crash. Tim winced, eyes leaving his friend in favor of the wall. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

-TIM, BUD, WE NEED SOME HELP HERE!

-...what was that, Timbo?

-Nothing.

-TIM, TIM, THE TV IS ON FIRE!!! COME QUICKLY BEFORE IT REACHES THE XBOX OR SO HELP ME GOD I’M MURDERING EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!

-...Tim?

-Don’t tell B.

-Gotcha. Going to save their lives?

-More like hiding in my room until they sort themselves out or die. Good luck on those papers.

-Good luck on surviving.

[captainshazamerica]

dude I have no chill when it comes to asks 😅

2. Do you like the arrowverse if so what's your fav show? (Mines flash but legends is so so chaotically lit it's a dumpster fire of awesomeness highly recommend that even tho they did my fav kinda dirty they had no need to do that to her but hey)

5. Fav character(s)?

15. Dark trinity or trinity?

17. Teen titans or Young Justice?

18. Fav animated show and/ or movie? (BTAS is supreme to me lol)

22. Fav Robin! ( this is so hard but also not I feel like dick gets it just cuz he was the first )

31. Do you like the character of the joker?

38. Who do you think is the most over looked and under used character?

51. Justice League or League of Assassins or Justice League Dark?

🎪I haven't started wayne fam adventures yet but it looks sooo good and is everyone there!? It seems like everyone's there just from what I've saw on tumblr but I don't remember seeing steph? Please say alfred is there!?

random side note just cuz you like jonny there's DC fear state coming out over fall and scarecrow is the main villian messing s*it up in Gotham and the batfam, I ain't gonna be reading that for a while tho cuz I've put a cap on comic purchasing because I'm making myself broke 😅 but it looks quite cool tbh

Dude I love that you have no chill with the asks omg xD Its so great, I get so excited when I see you do it hahaha

2. Do you like the arrowverse if so what's your fav show? (Mines flash but legends is so so chaotically lit it's a dumpster fire of awesomeness highly recommend that even tho they did my fav kinda dirty they had no need to do that to her but hey) Same, my fav is Flash, tho Im not caught up at all/havent caught up since like mid to late season 4, I got too busy during college and I was kinda getting bored with it, but now that Bart is in it, it makes me wanna watch it again! It was also before I got super into DC so Im sure Id love it even more now. I actually havent fully seen the others, just some episodes here and there and the Crisis crossovers! LoT looks like a chaotic lovable mess though, Ive heard that several times xD Who is your fav that they did dirty?

5. Fav character(s)? I mean its me so I can never chose just one xD Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Gar Logan/Beast Boy, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, and Edward Nygma/Riddler are my all time favs!

15. Dark trinity or trinity? Dark trinity as in the 2nd Red Hood and the Outlaws? (Jason, Bizarro and Artemis ) Then def dark trinity haha, I love those 3 misfits so much omg

17. Teen titans or Young Justice? AHH this is soooo hard omg. Like the shows or comics or groups in general?! Like imma go with Young Justice show but Teen Titans overall. They overlap though soo

18. Fav animated show and/ or movie? (BTAS is supreme to me lol) Ahh I actually seen all of BTAS! Ive just seen the first couple episodes and seen random ones here and there but like know everything about it xD Hmmm, for show I gotta go with the Young Justice cartoon, and animated DC movie, a tie between Justice League vs. Teen Titans and Justice League Dark: Apokolips War (the Damirae ahhhh). Though oooh also Under the Red Hood is also a classic and Jasonnnn

22. Fav Robin! ( this is so hard but also not I feel like dick gets it just cuz he was the first ) Ahaha I knew you would say Dick!!!! xD I was gonna ask and be like, its Dick isnt it xD This is like the hardest question ever oh my goodness. While they have all been my fav at point point, Jason and Tim have like been tied for first for the last couple of months. Like I love them both so freaking much. But if I absoltly HAD to chose one, ahhhhh, im going to have to go with Jason, Im so sorry Tim D: But Jason's character is just so complex in every version and his comics are sooo good(tho I love Tim's Red Robin ones too) his arc as a character is just SO interesting to me and his constant battle with himself and how far he fell from being robin and its all so sad but makes such a good character ahhhh

31. Do you like the character of the joker? Ahaha, this one is hard/I have mixed feelings. I have always liked him as villain even before my Batman obsession (and of course use to say he was my fav dc villain hahaha) and tbh I still think he is a pretty darn good villain and there is a reason he is so popular, even though he is an abusive piece of poop. Id like him a LOT more if he didnt abuse Harley so much tbh. And I think DC over uses him waaaaayyy too much, though I do like every version of him, excluding Leto's version, and think the acting is always amazing. So yeah, I guess I do like him but he isn't my fav, but I can appreciate him and his pop culture impact and how good he is as a truly evil unhinged villain who is interesting to watch.

38. Who do you think is the most over looked and under used character? TIM DRAKE!!!!!!!! And Riddler!!!!!!!!!!!

51. Justice League or League of Assassins or Justice League Dark? Gotta go with the classic justice league man

And ahhhh yes you have to read Wayne Family Adventure, its pretty much literal perfection. Here is the official link if you need it! https://www.webtoons.com/en/slice-of-life/batman-wayne-family-adventures/list?title_no=3180&page=1 It comes out every thursday! (tho you can pay to read ahead a few weeks) But yes, Steph is in it too! Her and Tim were being the disasters they are <3 And yes, Alfred is freaking great in it omgggg, you will love him in the 2nd one ahhh

Oooooh, I didnt know that!!!!(its soo hard to keep up with dc comics omgggg) I thought I heard something about that the other day but didnt know what it was/anything about it! Thanks so much for telling me!! I hope they release it digitally on DC Infinite!!!! Cause sameeee

[the-uninformed-zennial]

Series: Dick’s Apartment

Chapter 1: Jason

Warnings: Mild swearing (because, you know, it’s Jason Todd)

Preface/introduction:

The first family member to stay the night at Dick’s apartment was Jason Todd, the new Robin. The new Dick. Or so the former protege had felt upon discovering that Batman’s sidekick was still active on the streets of Gotham and Bruce Wayne had gained a new ward. He didn’t speak to Bruce for about six months after that, and even after they finally had a conversation about what happened, it took him a while to be able to show his face around the manor. But once he got over himself, he found that Jason was actually a pretty cool kid. So, when Bruce found himself called off world for some league business while Alfred was sick, Dick didn’t entirely mind watching the little punk for the weekend...

Now the actual story...

Bruce dropped him off on the sidewalk in the late afternoon, barely giving the kid enough time to grab his backpack and cell phone before speeding off towards the nearest Zeta tube. Typical. Why bother waiting for your babysitter when the world was at stake? Whatever. Jason could take care of himself just fine, better than fine. I mean, he was fucking Robin. He took care of Batman when the situation called for it. Screw Bruce for even thinking he needed to be watched. Screw Dick for agreeing. He unzipped his backpack just enough to reach inside and touch the hem of his Robin suit. He was going on patrol, and he would just love to see Nightwing try and stop him. He slung his worn red backpack onto his shoulder and turned his phone’s location off, but just as he was about to bolt, he felt a warm hand grab his shoulder.

“Hey man, I was just on my way out.” Dick’s knowing smile just made Jason want to punch him in the face, “Looks like you were too. Wanna grab some pizza before you get both of us in trouble?”

“Fuck you man.” Jason spat.

Dick tightened his grip on Jason’s shoulder and pulled him into the doorway of the apartment building, away from the street and prying ears.

“Look, I get the whole tough guy act and needing to prove yourself to Bruce thing, okay? Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. But if you take to the streets before I’ve even had the chance to put some food in you I have a feeling Batman’s no-kill rule will be temporarily suspended. So, we can either do this the easy way, or we can break out in a brawl in the middle of the street, which do you prefer?”

As much as Jason would love to see if he could beat Dick in combat, he did have a point. Bruce would be pissed if Jason ran off before even giving Dick a chance, and pizza before patrol didn’t sound like the worst thing he could think of.

“Fine.”

“Great,” Dick’s smile returned to his face almost as quickly as it had disappeared, “just let me get my coat and we'll be on our way.”

Jason slumped up against the side of the building and whipped out his phone in response. By the time Dick came back downstairs he had already beat a new level in the stupid numbers game Bruce made him download to “build his deductive reasoning skills” or whatever. Dick was such a priss, sauntering down the staircase in a leather jacket that looked like it had just come off the manufacturers belt, while still having the audacity to refute Jason’s whispered taunt of “spoiled brat” with a, “then what does that make you?” in reply.

The pair decided to use a shortcut Dick had recently discovered that supposedly made the trip take half as long as usual. It cut through a couple of alleys, but what was the harm, I mean, they were Nightwing and Robin, afterall. Just as the thought crossed Jason's mind, he heard the click of a gun hammer pulled back.

“Stop.” came the growl from a voice behind them.

Dick quickly gave Jason a look that said to just play along. They reluctantly stopped.

“Turn around.” Man this guy was cocky. “Empty your pockets.” Jason almost felt bad for him.

But just as he was about to show this punk who was boss, Dick grabbed his arm, and he noticed that he had all his valuables laying out in front of him. Was he serious? Dick could take this guy down in his sleep, and yet he was just gonna roll over and give him whatever he wanted. No way. Then he caught a look at the guy. He wasn’t so much of a guy as a kid, a kid who didn’t look much older than Jason was when Batman found him trying to lift the tires off the batmobile. Not much older than Jason was when… no, he wouldn’t go there. Suffice it to say, life on the streets was hard enough. This kid didn’t need to be ruffed up by two literal superheroes, he needed a sandwich. Maybe two. So, reluctantly, Jason unbuckled his watch and took his phone out of his back pocket. There really wasn’t anything else of value he had brought with him.

The kid peered around the barrel of his gun, inspecting the pile, then motioned at Jason, “Backpack too.”

Shit. The backpack, the backpack with his Robin suit inside. Which, if found, would totally ruin the whole secret identity thing. Did Dick know? He glanced up at him, and yeah, he knew. Fuck, mental note, find a better way to sneak the Robin suit in and out of the cave. Jason subconsciously gripped the backpack more tensely.

“Uh,” Dick spoke up, thank god, “I don’t think you actually want that. See, my brother here was going to spend the night at my house so it’s just filled with an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush. Nothing valuable there.”

Jason could have facepalmed, right then and there. Dick obviously knew nothing about what was and was not valuable to a kid on the streets, because honestly, two years ago Jason would’ve killed to find a backpack filled with an extra pair of clothes and a toothbrush. Those things were hard to come by. And also, did he seriously just call him his brother?

Sure enough the kid motioned with his free hand, “Hand it over.”

Jason tried to hide the panic that was slowly spreading across his face, but Dick was too perceptive and he knew it. Fuck him. He was not handing the bag over, no matter what the little punk threatened. Somehow, Dick seemed to know that because before Jason could make a move, Dick had already done some crazy ass acrobatic flip that simultaneously knocked the kid out and disarmed him.

“How the hell--?” The words just kinda slipped out before Jason even realized what he was saying, “...Bruce is seriously holding out on me.”

Dick just smiled while he picked the gun up off the ground and put a twenty in the kid’s half opened hand.

As they began to pick up their valuables, he leaned over and whispered, “You know I was in the circus right?”

“Yeah?”

“And I was Robin for about a decade”

“Where are you going with this?”

The smile somehow glinted in his eyes, “Batman didn’t teach me that one. I created it myself.”

It took all Jason’s willpower to not drop his mouth wide open. How was that even possible? I mean, the mechanics of the move, how Dick had to launch his body upward just the right amount so that he could come down on the attacker’s hands and face with just enough force to cause them to release the weapon before firing, it was insane! Jason had to learn it. Just as he opened his mouth to ask, Dick raised his hand in silence.

“After pizza.”

So that’s what they did. They must’ve spent a good three hours at the local park just trying to get Jason to launch himself high enough in the air. As much as he hated to admit it, Dick was a lot more agile and Jason was quickly tiring out. After about the 500th failure, Jason lost it. He didn’t know what came over him, but the next thing he knew he was picking up the pieces of his broken phone off the sidewalk. Shit. Shit, Bruce was gonna be so pissed.

“Hey man,” Dick started.

God his cheerful attitude was starting to get really fucking old. Dick Grayson. The first Robin. The prodigal son. The dude who started beating up bad guys before he had even shaved for the first time. Dick Grayson who could fling himself in the air all day long and barely break a sweat. Dick Grayson, the guy he was just subbing in for.

Before Jason even realized what was happening, he felt his curled fist impact the side of Dick face. Dick stepped back a few paces, and instinctively hunched into his fighting stance while inspecting his face for blood. Jason was proud to say there were a few drops, thanks to a ring on his middle finger.

“What the fuck?” He asked, clearly confused.

“Just stay the hell away from me, okay?” Jason said quite a bit louder than he had intended, “I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

“I never said that you weren’t.” Dick dropped his stance. “Look, maybe we should take a break.”

A break. Yeah, right. Jason Todd, the kid who couldn’t even make it through an afternoon of training without having a complete meltdown. No way was Bruce not going to hear about this. With the way things were going, he’d probably be taken off patrol for at least a week. No. He wouldn’t let that happen. All he had to do was convince Dick that he was fine, he was better than fine, he was the real Robin.

Jason took another swing, and this time, Dick was expecting it. He grabbed Jason’s outstretched arm and twisted it behind his back. But before he could get the hold fully secured, Jason took his free arm and elbowed him right in the stomach, the diaphragm, if Dick’s sudden fit of coughing was any indication. This gave Jason enough time to yank his hand free of Dick’s grasp and try to land another blow. He decided to go for a kick to the right knee, a weak spot of Batman’s former protege he had learned about while reviewing old video tapes for training. But Dick saw it coming. Before Jason even had time to think, Dick had already grabbed his outstretched leg and knocked him off balance, causing him to fall into the soft dirt around them. Jason kicked and flailed, trying to get his leg free, but it didn’t work, and soon Dick was on top of him, pinning him to the ground.

Jason knew if he tried he could get free eventually, but after a while he just stopped. What was the point anyway? Surely Dick was going to call Batman as soon as he was back on world and tell him everything. He’d recommend Jason give back the Robin suit and retire from the vigilante business because he couldn’t handle the stress of learning a new trick. Then he’d be back on the streets, because what use would Bruce Wayne have for him if he couldn’t fight crime? At least this time he’d know how to defend himself.

Jason didn’t even realize he had started to cry until he was being held in Dick’s arms. It was strange and incredibly uncomfortable to be held by someone that was nearly his own size, but Dick was soft and warm and would not let go. So Jason just sat there frozen, tears silently running down his face as he tried desperately to hide the fact that he was terrified of what was going to happen to him now.

The two boys stayed there like that for a few minutes, until Jason had softened enough to meld into Dick’s arms a little, and the latest wave of tears had come and gone. When Dick finally did let go, Jason scrambled back up onto his feet, and wiped away any trace that he had cried in the first place. Then turned a stony gaze at Dick.

“Don’t tell Bruce.” He glared.

“Tell him what?” Dick asked innocently.

There he was, being a prick again. Jason glanced around the park that was now well covered in darkness looking for a space to stare at that wasn’t Dick. Anywhere but Dick.

“That I failed.”

“Excuse me?” Dick’s tone was sarcastic and somewhat offended. “Did you just say you failed?”

Jason nodded ever so slightly.

“Okay, no.” He sighed in a manner eerily similar to Bruce. “Jace, it takes time to master a move like this, like an insane amount of time, like years. You had three hours in a playground and you’ve already got the basic motor functions of the move down. I don’t know about you, but I call that impressive.”

Jason looked cautiously into Dick’s eyes, could he really mean what he was saying? “But then why did you say I should take a break?”

“Because I could see you were getting to the end of your rope. I mean, you threw your phone on the ground and punched me in the face. If that’s not a clear indication someone needs a break, then I don’t know what is.” He smiled reassuringly.

“So you aren’t going to tell Bruce what happened?”

“I mean, I don’t really think there’s anything he needs to know about, do you?”

Jason allowed the phantom of a smile to creep up on his face, “Not unless you can’t handle being punched in the face by your little brother.”

“Brother, huh?”

“Your words, not mine.”

Dick laughed, “Okay then, brother, what do you say we go get a movie and eat some popcorn? I’ve had enough training tonight.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, “Fine. But only if it’s horror.”

Dick just smiled and put his arm around his little brother’s shoulder as they walked out of the park and back to the apartment.

The boys stayed up well into the night, mostly mocking the movie they chose for it’s subpar acting and special effects quality. It was one of those “classic” horror movies that everyone has to see at least once in their lives, so of course it sucked. Still, Jason could honestly say it was the most fun he’d had in years. Dick was definitely an asshole, but despite his better judgement, he couldn’t help thinking that maybe, just maybe, Dick wasn’t as big a dick as he thought.

[cleverbxrd]

What Were You Expecting?

WHO: Dick Grayson / @cxrcusbxrd​ , Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd / @rxdshood​ , Ra’s al Ghul MENTIONED: Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Talia al Ghul WORD COUNT: 4,141 LOCATION: Ra’s’ current evil hidey-hole THE BASICS:  Two Birds (and a Bat) walk into a secret League of Assassins base... TW: Comic/Action Movie Level Violence, Slight Trauma, Injury, Murderous Intent, Past Death Mention, Deus Ex Grayson

DICK: None of this was easy. Nothing about having to rescue a member of their family, their little dysfunctional clan, was remotely easy. It had taken them this long to even find out a possible place where Tim had been taken to, and even then something felt very off. Maybe it was uncharted territory, maybe it was the fact that he'd told Jason to lead the charge alone, call him over com if he couldn't find anything. The seconds were ticking away, and he wasn't keeping as strict a timer as he felt he should. Nightwing was currently on lookout duty, guarding their secretly made entryway into the compound, looking out for what he could only assume were ninja, assassins, that Ra's had employed on monitor duty. No one in or out, sounded on par. Luckily he hadn't run into anyone he needed to crack the skulls of, but even that put him on edge. It was like the Demon's Head was just waiting for them. If Steph hadn't been enough of a warning, this eerie silence while he waited for his younger brother's call... Ah Hell, Jason wasn't going to get back to him, not like this. Guy was probably looking for the source. Who could blame him? They were all reckless, very much to their own faults. If they wanted to be smart about this, though, they couldn't take the direct path to the one who started it all. Maybe a crash-course in their strategy would've been effective. Dick had to stop himself in his mental tracks. Relinquishing lead was hard, but he trusted Jason, trusted his instincts. They'd both been trained by the same guy... So why was he so damn nervous?

Maybe it was the fact that he felt someone's eyes on him in the fraction of a second he'd had a momentary panic about weather or not they were approaching this entire situation correctly (and really, who's going to say if it was right or wrong? Sometimes you have to call a shit-ton of audibles). Dick's white-lensed eyes squinted into the darkness, a hairline trigger activating infrared to see if he could really find who he was sure was watching him, watching them. It didn't take long before he reached behind his shoulders to pull the electrified escrima sticks from his back, settling into an all too familiar low defensive stance. If there was one thing he was sure of he wasn't going to take this impromptu mission any less seriously than his more 'normal', less paranoia-inducing ones. I'm getting my brother back.

"I know you're out there," He finally called out, the weapons crackling to life with charged light, just barely illuminating the small area that he stood his ground. "Show yourself!"

BRUCE: The boys were doing what the boys did, ignore his orders and get themselves into trouble. It was an old song and dance by now, one he had hoped they already knew the steps to, though he supposed that their urgency, their panic, blinded them to the inevitability of it all. 

Did they truly think they would go on a rescue mission without him finding out? That he would really allow them to charge headfirst into Ra’s hands without him having a say in it? He didn’t know if that reflected poorly on him or proved that as grown as they were his sons were all still boys in the end. 

Bruce perched atop the roof, his brow furrowed underneath his cowl as his planted device hummed, an EMP knocking out the motion sensors throughout the grounds before the bat took a running leap to glide closer to his target, Dick. 

He landed with a dull thud, his jaw clenched as he stood to his full height. 

“You’re jumpy,” Bruce said simply, his attention turning to the ‘Thwip’ of two guards being lifted and secured behind Dick’s back, “and sloppy. I was under the impression you two were conducting a stealth mission.”

DICK: Ah. Shit.

Hi dad. Er, second dad. The dad that didn't bother to adopt him officially until he'd been well past Ward status.

Still, the familiar sight of a bat-eared cowl did nothing to prevent the squinted lenses from narrowing further, the stance he'd taken relaxing only a fraction. He was still on edge, still on high alert. Bruce was good, as he always was, and caught him off guard. Sloppy.

He didn't need to be told twice, less-than-happy flashbacks of hours on hours of training popping in and out of subconsious memory... this wasn't the time to be reminiscing on weather or not you actually wanted to give the old man the argument of a lifetime. 

"It was," Nightwing sighed, absently twirling one of the lightened sticks in his hand. "But something tells me it's a bit hard to be stealthy against literal ninja." Assassins, same difference. Squaring his blue-lined shoulders, the former sidekick faced his mentor with a grimace. "How the hell did you find us, Bruce?"

BRUCE: Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes at Dick's tense posture. He was glad he was on guard, they always had to be in these situations, but a bigger part of him wanted to scold him for following Jason into this suicide mission without backup, without him. 

Tim was his ward, his robin, his son. He needed to be here. 

For more reason than one, given the boys lack of forethought. 

He simply hummed in acknowledgement. He could dissect their plan at a later date. Tonight was about getting their boy back. 

"There are trackers imbedded into the fabric of your suit." He answered plainly. Dick didn't need to know about the trackers he had on Jason, nor the ones he had in the very sticks he held in his hands. A bat needed some secrets, after all.

"Come on, there are guards to the north that we need to clear out for our escape route."

DICK: Maybe it was the fact that he'd been on edge ever since Tim had gone missing without a trace. Maybe it was years of pent up aggression that he'd never fully let himself come to term with. Maybe it was the fact that he was still being treated like a sidekick. There were reasons Dick had made the jump to Bludhaven, then New York; He had to get out of The Shadow. Easier said than done, apparently

"Track-?" The hushed word fell short as his eyes suddenly went wide, looking down at the no-doubt invisibly weaved nanotech. God damnit, Bruce. "... You..." Seething, he hissed through clenched teeth instead of finding the right word. Of course he would've slipped up on that minor detail in his blind rage, the sudden need he had to bring his brother out here and bring Ra's to justice. No doubt, he was getting a full mission report after this, as if it wasn't his own, Jason's own, mission to carry out. 

Still... Having one of the best in the biz probably wasn't the worst thing in the world. With the Batman, this mission could take less time than he was sure it would've taken them. Hell, he hadn't heard the signal yet. With a bit of time, he was sure he'd hear that familiar tweet. He really hoped so anyway. 

"Fine," Nightwing huffed, semi-reluctantly dropping his head. "You'd better be prepared. This creep's been waiting for this for ages."

~~~

JASON: There was something unnerving about any and all League bases to Jason. It made his skin crawl and feel the urge to turn tail and run as fast as he could away. A child turned into a weapon, blood staining hands that couldn't be washed away now. Some for people deserving of it, some for those perhaps that didn't, but it was too late to try to attempt to feel remorse now. If he even did at all. It was apart of him now, a way of life he had come to accept and wasn't something he shied away from. Memories from this part of his life were broken at best, flashes of memories he could vaguely recall. Hands around the throat of someone he had been ordered to kill, the offense unclear, but the order firm, the anxiety bubbling up. Too intimate, too much, too close. Finishing the job and resolutely deciding silently from then on killing from a distance was mandatory. Maybe there was some psychology behind Jason's decision to choose guns as his primary choice of a weapon, but that wasn't something he ever really wanted to get into. 

For now, Jason had to push away the anxiety and insistent jagged memories to push forward, steel himself to do what he came to do. Save Tim, bring Tim home. Dick had told him to lead the charge, be the leader for once. Jason hadn't really known what to do with that other than take the reigns and push forward, take the information they knew and act. It had been long enough, far too long, and they were getting their little brother back. 

Things were quiet. Too quiet. It only added to the anxiety that stayed firmly building in Jason's chest he refused to show, thankful for the helmet that hid any and all facial expressions that might slip through the ever so diligent Bat training. Winding halls and diverting from any potential hiccups. Naturally, a few heads were knocked together, silencer on his gun as he shot to take incapacitate—not kill. No matter how much he wanted to put the bullet through the assassins' eyes rather than a knee. 

Inching further along, Jason got to where he intended. Not Tim, no. Ra's al Ghul. "Love what you've done with the place, Ra's. A lot more spooky chic than you had before. I'm sure Talia would hate it." The younger man hummed, a few quick shots sending the remaining assassins in the room sprawling out on the floor. "Don't worry, nothing a few surgeries can't do to fix them right up. Or do you prefer to put them down? Memory's a bit spotty from when I was here last time." He sneered under the helmet, gun trained on the man in question now—though silently he was unsure if this was a genius plan or completely idiotic. Probably the latter. 

"My brother. I want him back. I'm not leaving without him."

RA’S: Ra's was no fool. He hadn't expected the Bat clan to simply roll over and accept that Timothy was out of their reach now. Many of Bruce Wayne's children had ended up under Ra's care over the years, before or after meeting the billionaire: Jason, Damian, Stephanie, Cassandra. 

One would think that eventually, Bruce would get better at keeping them out of his hands. But getting to Tim had been easy. 

Keeping him was bound to be a bit trickier, so Ra's had called in some reinforcements. One could never be too careful. Loading the board visibly wouldn't be much of a deterrent but would show his hand, so instead Ra's had kept the halls of this hideaway under their normal guard--at least, as far as could be seen. Timothy was locked away deeper into the complex , accompanied by a handful of men under orders to put a bullet in the boy's head before letting him be taken back. 

He'd never professed not to be possessive. 

Jason came charging into the chamber where Ra's was waiting, and the ancient assassin didn't even blink as his men dropped with groans around him. Nor was he particularly bothered by having a gun leveled at his face. 

"Well, since you're asking--yes, I would prefer you aim for their heads in the future. Saves me the work," Ra's answered calmly, taking a step in Jason's direction. The man's demand earned an amused scoff. "Ah. Well, then, I'm afraid you won't be leaving. Timothy will be staying with me. You're welcome to request visits." Ra's smiled, icily. "I do so miss having you around, al'ahmar. You were very entertaining." Ra's reached up to his own throat, unclasping his cape and laying it over a chaise in passing. 

"Now, where is your father? I do prefer dealing with the one in charge. Smoothes the process. And I know they didn't trust you to run it, not their little stray bird."

Ra's smirked. "Did Grayson tell you, by the way? That you and dear Timothy have a new shared experience?"

JASON: Jason always could feel the oncomings of his pit rage. It had taken a good few years to be able to do just that. At first, it was uncontrollable. He lashed out at so many of the men that worked for Talia and destroyed a hotel room once in a fit of rage upon finding out he had been replaced. Now his said replacement was someone he considered his little brother and wouldn't be leaving without. If he wouldn't be leaving then so be it. As long as Tim left. 

Jason snarled under the helmet and could feel the haze creeping forward in his head, if his eyes were visible he was sure they'd flash an even more eery shade of green than they had been changed to from the pit effects. Every word that left Ra's mouth only fueled and poked at the fire. "He's not my father," a reflect, venom dripping from the four words. "You get me. No big bat or other birds to play babysitter. I don't do so well without supervision, I hear." 

Jason didn't see red. No, he saw green, and in an instant he surged forward and whipped the gun across the older man's face. He shoved it back into his thigh holster as his other gloved hand closed around Ra's throat. He wanted his blood to paint the walls, to see him choke on his own blood and die slowly. The urge to do what he could to finish him clawed at his chest violently. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking watch you choke on your blood and step on your throat to make it even more agonizing. To put you in a fucking body bag would be a goddamn dream come true!"

RA'S: Jason was so very easy to get under the skin of. He had died scared and angry and came back scared and angrier, the former beaten out until all that was left was rage. Ra's knew better than anyone else on Earth what the Pit could do to the mind, the way its haze could seep through the mind and obscure all but the urge to tear people apart. He'd had centuries to adjust. 

Jason had not--he was a constantly ticking time bomb. And Ra's enjoyed prodding at him to set him off. "Oh, my. You still hold a grudge about being replaced, and yet you're here to retrieve your replacement. Interesting choice. But then, you never were the bright one."

It was, of course, the mention of what he'd done to Timothy that set the man off fully, and even Ra's had to concede that Jason was fast. The blow to the face stung, but Jason shoved his gun away as quickly as it'd come out, opting for more up-close fighting. 

Poor choice. 

Ra's let the man tighten his grip, brought both arms up between them so his forearms were against the man's shoulders, and then hooked his leg around Jason's and pushed, sending them both to the ground. 

He snapped an arm up to deliver a sharp elbow to the chin, and then used the momentum to snap the same arm back against the one with the grip on his throat, hitting the crook of Jason's elbow to loosen his hold. 

"You know better than to think you can beat me, let alone kill me, al'ahmar. But I won't deny the pleasure of a fight if that's what you insist on--it'd bring me no greater pleasure than to have Bruce Wayne know that I took you from him again. One more dip in the Pit, and maybe the madness doesn't stay back." His own eyes flared with that poisonous shade of green. 

"You won't kill me, even if you could. He'd be dead before you ever got your hands on him."

JASON: Jason's head jerked up and he tasted blood immediately, likely from biting down on his tongue. The minor pain was nothing compared to the burn that was spreading through him as he fell into his Pit induced rage. His arm buckled, fingers loosening around Ra's' throat. That only served to piss him off further. He was literally rolling in the dirt with Ra's al Ghul. His life was a joke, but whatever the cost. He'd get Tim out of this. Even if he didn't—

"I didn't know you were in the business of making balloon animals now, al Ghul. You're taking credit for a clown's handiwork. Do you prefer Boo Boo the Fool or Chuckles?" Jason spat out through the voice modulator of his helmet, bringing a knee up to connect with any body part he could reach, gain some traction. Maybe he wasn't the best at hand to hand combat compared to the other birds, but he wasn't bad at it by any means. He also had size on his side, more muscles and height than the others did to use to his advantage.

The hand that loosened from Ra's throat snapped up to shove palm up at his nose hard and fast, disorient him any way he could. "Maybe I won't, but I do know I'll make it hurt like hell before you can even think to get your grubby paws on him again. Where do you prefer your stab wounds? You know what? I'll surprise you!" In the scuffle of their bodies, Jason whipped his knife out of his belt and slashed at his torso.

RA'S: A clown?  Really.  Ra's felt his anger ratchet up another notch at the mockery, hissing out between his teeth as Jason's knee collided with his ribs.  The younger man wasn't much for technique, but he was strongly built, and even stronger when the Pit started pressing its way forward.  Ra's could take blows from your average man with barely a shrug, but Jason, despite not being particularly skilled as Grayson and Damian were, could land some stinging blows.

"He put you down the first time," Ra's grunted, just barely managing to avoid the blow at his nose, "but I'll be happy to do it the second go round.  But I took you from Bruce in the ways that matter, didn't I?  Seeing you dead was one thing, seeing you a killer was another.  Does he still look at you like you're someone else?"

Jason's threats were nothing.  What was pain to a man who'd lived as many lifetimes as Ra's, who'd been hurt and killed and brought back more times than he cared to count?  Ra's would always come back.  Jason Todd would die and stay dead the next time he went down.  Jason grabbed at a knife, swiped at his side, and the blade sliced through cloth and skin like it was so much paper, even as Ra's started to roll off the man.  The ancient assassin snarled, and drew a dagger of his own as he got to his feet, ignoring the crimson that started to paint the side of his robes.  His own eyes were the same poisonous green as Jason's now, the Pit rearing to the forefront at the drawing of blood.  "The only one who can set your brother free is me, Todd.  My men will end his life before you get a foot through the door if I don't give the order.  And you think you can make me?  You're even stupider than I gave you credit for."

JASON: The younger man was entirely too thrilled in seeing the old man get irritated by his poking and prodding. Jason knew one of his assets was his ability to piss people off purely by speaking. Maybe it was reckless to get the already rage filled man angry, but it was his job after all. He was only doing what he was supposed to, lead the charge. If that had some consequences...oh well. At least they'd be getting Tim back. He wasn't leaving until they did.

The words had Jason biting his tongue, the blow landing as he was sure it was intended. He practically snarled. "What can I say? I've always been the black sheep of the family. Even before the whole 'Jason, this isn't the way!' shtick he was on." He pushed himself to his feet and flipped his knife in his hand, letting out a pleased chuckle to see the red staining the assassin's robes. "I'm sure you can get that out with a little scrubbing. Nothing a little elbow grease can't do. You do know how to do that, right? Manual labor?" Even with the helmet, he was visibly bored. He was angry, but then again, he was always angry. He was good at putting a front, lying was easy, especially for a bat. Might as well poke and prod some more while he was at it. 

The stupid remark made Jason's jaw tic and he only laughed. "I didn't need to make you do anything, al Ghul. I just had to distract you." There was a pause and Jason let out a Robin call, the signal to Dick. The signal all Robins knew. "How's it feel being played by someone you think is stupid?" He sneered and immediately pushed forward, slashing out with his knife once more.

RA'S: The jab seemed to land as intended, judging by the moment of silence that preceded the sharp-toned reply lobbed his way. It had never been hard to get under Jason's skin, and it certainly wasn't hard now that the Pit ran through his veins. 

Unfortunately, that same Pit had amped up Jason's speed, too. Ra's glowered at the taunts. "Don't you condescend to me, boy. You know nothing of work." Ra's took a step closer, feinted for a stab at the man's side before swiping for his throat beneath the helmet. 

I just had to distract you. Ra's eyes narrowed for a moment before he recognized what the call was, and then he sneered, retreating back as his gaze flicked around the room for evidence of the imminent arrival of the rest of the little flock. "Needed a babysitter after all, did we, Todd? Wise of them not to trust you to manage this yourself. Now why don't you go run along while I deal with the grown ups, hm?"

DICK:  "Who're you calling grown up?" 

The quip was too easy to let loose, even though every bone in his body refused to add any humor behind it. The blue bird stood just behind Jason, hidden partially in the shadows while he approached the apparently on-going fight. He was putting a stop to that, stopping the recklessness of his younger brother... From doing exactly what he would be doing too. "You're pretty twisted if you think both of us wouldn't come for Tim, Ra's." Not to mention the big bad Bat doing all the hard work in the background. Granted, he'd upped security tenfold for this kind of invasion. Clearly, they didn't keep quiet about their invasion. That would be something they'd be scolded for later... Well, himself, mostly. Just one look out of the corner of his eye looked like Jason would be laid up in Alfred's infirmary for a bit... And he didn't even want to think about how bad Tim had it.

"Don't even think about following me," Dick sneered, the white lenses of his mask thinning in his hard squint, moving to hook an arm quickly around the back of Jason's shoulders, attempting to not topple over from the sudden transfer of weight. He was hit that was for sure now. He didn't have time to assess, but they needed to get back to Gotham stat. The glowing stick in one hand, he tapped the non-electrified end against his hip, two black marbles bouncing onto the floor. Without looking down, the vigilante placed his heel on top of the two, drawing his teeth back in a final animalistic sneer. "And don't fuck with my family." 

Just the barest transfer of weight had the two spheres busting open under his foot, thick smoke filling the area where the two Robins once stood. Dick was sure this was one of the oldest 'ninja' tricks in the book, that they'd be easily tracked, but that would have to wait for worrying later. It took adrenaline and effort, but he was running with the intent to save. This time, he wouldn't be stopped.

No Robins left behind, he thought, breaching through to the rendezvous point, nearly letting tears loose when he saw the other retrieved bird being hoisted into transport. Never again.

[tarteausuga]

killing boys

Jaehyun (NCT) x Reader [x Chaeyoung (Twice)] angst, implied wlw cw: cheating, strong language, sexual content word count: 2.1k Inspired by killing boys by Halsey

"You're killing people." “No, I'm killing boys. Boys are just placeholders, they come and they go." "You're my best friend, and I wanna help you. But I won't let you kill again, that's a lose-lose."

You could only describe it as the worst pain you've ever felt in your life. Even worse than that time your older brother body slammed you while you were "playing WWE" with him and you ended up breaking your arm in 2 spots and a broken collar bone. It was even worse than the period pains that felt like someone was jamming a blunt knife into your abdomen. The only thing was that it wasn't a physical pain or something your body was actually experiencing physiologically. It was the strongest emotional pain ever and it threw your life for a loop.

Eating was the last thing you wanted to do and you had run out of people to vent to about the current worst thing that's ever happened to you. But your childhood best friend always had a way of making her way into your life at the best/worst times. 

Chaeyoung was always a free spirit compared to your more grounded personality. She was usually always out doing something while you were at home watching Netflix. She would occasionally show up at random times, knocking on your window when she needed a place to sleep for the night. But she always had a keen sense of how you were feeling because her visits, despite his chaotic she was at times, calmed you from whatever was going on in your life.

"Hey Charlie Brown, what's up?" She says the moment you open the front door of your house. She had arrived with two bags full of convenience store food: three of each of your favourite chocolates, drinks, chips and anything else you could want in the moment.

"When are you going to stop calling me that?" You form a weak smile as she drops the bags onto the floor before pulling you into one of her signature chokeholds that are her version of hugs.

"Never. You're my lovable loser. Bedroom, I brought your favourite foods and your favourite movies." She doesn't even wait for you to say yes. You quickly rustle up the bags before peddling up after her.

She's greeted by the mess that was your room. Normally fairly neat and tidy, it looked like a hurricane had ripped through as you attempted to erase any memory or any chance of an object conjuring up an unwanted memory that would cause you that unbearable pain again. Chaeyoung glanced at you empathetically as she waded through the waste and jumped onto your bed. She pulled the laptop out from the bag and turned it on before patting the space next to her for you to join her.

The two of you watched the movie without speaking much to each other. The only noises were from the movie and the crinkling of wrappers as you satiated your hunger with the junk food - exactly what you needed.

"So what did the jerk do?" Chaeyoung finally said when she felt that you had a full enough belly to not collapse into a ball of misery and self-pity.

"He was caught with another girl. My friends saw him around town with a girl on his arm. He tried to play it off like she was his cousin but you don't kiss your cousins." You say glumly. You had told this story to so many people that it didn't even hurt anymore. 

"What an idiot. Haven't I told you? Jung Jaehyun was and always will be an ass hat." She chuckles as she leans back on her hands.

"I guess but I've had a crush on him for so long..." You say while playing with the candy wrapper in your hands.

"Right when he completely ignored you in high school and let those dumbass basketball guys make fun of you. Ass hat." She chuckled but this time, out of spite. Chaeyoung was quite known around your old high school of being the tough girl despite her small size. She called out anyone and everyone when they needed to be put in line and every guy was terrified of her as she was known to air out their dirty laundry if they humiliated a girl they dated. She's stood up for you on countless occasions but when you drifted apart in high school, you fell out of her protection as your new friends were unsavoury people to Chaeyoung. "He only started dating you when you became hot."

"Shut up." You threw the wrapper at her but she was right. 

You had graduated a little over 2 years ago and that's when you started becoming more confident in yourself. You carried yourself better and that's when he started to take notice of you. He had made up this elaborate story that he had liked you since high school but deep inside, you knew that wasn't true. You just lied to yourself because you were finally getting the boy of your dreams. 

He was just that. He was everything you wanted until he wasn't. You were convinced that he was the love of your life until he wasn't. Everything was an illusion because apparently, this was not the first time he has cheated on you or any other girl. Despite the warnings, you wanted to believe that he wouldn't hurt you… Until he did.

"I thought he was the one, Chae." You say glumly again.

"It can feel like that but I don't believe in it. There are plenty of people out there who would treat you like the peach that you are. Cheer up, Charlie Brown." She nudged you with her elbow with a wink.

She started calling you Charlie Brown when you two became obsessed with the Peanuts comics in middle school. Chaeyoung loved that he was a lovable loser and said that he reminded her of you. She proclaimed that she was Peppermint Patty and you agreed because Chaeyoung was always out there with the most absurd thoughts and ideas.

You had moved on to the second movie and you were now cuddled up with your best friend on your bed. You were about to fall asleep when she suddenly sat up, shocking you out of the sleepy state and said, "let's ruin Jung Jaehyun," with a smile.

"What?" You rub your eyes, "Chaeyoung, no. It's not that big of a deal. I'll get over it." 

"Not a big deal my ass. C'mon, ___, we need to teach him a lesson. Show him that he can't just go around sticking his dick in random places without consequences. It's our duty to any future woman that he might hurt." Chaeyoung says passionately.

You sigh and think about it before admitting defeat. "What are you planning?" You rub the bridge of your nose knowing she has already come up with an elaborate plan of some sort.

---

You park your car a block away from Jaehyun's house as instructed by Chaeyoung but you start having second thoughts. "This is a bad idea, Chae. Let's just go back to my place and finish that movie."

"Don't back out on me now! We're here, let's get it done." She almost hisses at you and you start wondering why she holds so much hate for Jaehyun all of a sudden.

Chaeyoung had always been protective of you from the day you two met in kindergarten. A bully had tried to take the chocolate chip cookie your mom had packed for you to help ease your nerves from your first day at school. You just sat there and cried when Chaeyoung came out of nowhere and snatched the cookie back, said some choice words and gave it to you. Though you had drifted away when high school started, you made new friends in high school from your club activities and Chaeyoung joined cheerleading, she always kept an eye on you. But she's never gone to this extreme.

"We've done some crazy things in the past, Chae, but this is literally illegal. We could go to jail for this!" You grab her wrist.

"Only if we get caught!" She yells in a hushed tone. Her eyes had changed into something more menacing than before.

"Why are you doing this?" You hiss back.

"I can't just standby and let that asshole get away with hurting someone I love." She shakes her hand free and gets out of the car before you can stop her.

In the time it took you to unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car, she was already at Jaehyun's house. You told her everything. The spare key was under the third flower pot on the right. He was usually at basketball practice at this time, then he would go hang out with the boys. It was Friday night so his parents were out for their weekly date night. This used to be the time where you and Jaehyun would have sex as you had the house to yourselves…

Chaeyoung's plan was simple: key his car. Sneak into his room and spray paint something (she didn't tell you what), sneak out and go home.

It was too late to stop her since you weren't a fast runner and you knew perfectly well that it was impossible to stop your best friend from doing anything once her mind was set. All you could do was wait.

You tapped your foot impatiently, trying to make the time go by faster to no avail when suddenly, you heard yelling from down the block. The next thing you knew, Chaeyoung was sprinting down the road yelling at you to start the car. You fumbled with your keys as you tried to do as she said and finally got the engine to start when she hopped into the passenger seat.

"JUST DRIVE" She yelled breathlessly.

You instantly stepped on the gas and look in the rearview mirror to see Jaehyun standing there, furious.

"What the hell happened?" You demand from Chaeyoung.

"That fucker." She laughed as she sunk into the leather of the car seat.

"Chaeyoung!" You glare at her, your knuckles going white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.

"So I keyed that ridiculous car of his and went into the house, no problem right? I mean I took a little longer on the car than I wanted but that was great penmanship considering I was using a damn key but anyway!" She continues, "fuck man, I go in and I just hear shit. It kind of freaked me out because you said the house would be empty right? But I'm like okay whatever, I go to his room and there he was balls deep in some girl." She can't help but laugh and even though you want to cry, you join her. "I'm so sorry Charlie Brown but you deserve so much better."

"Yeah, I know." You stop the car at a red light. You take her hand in yours and kiss it, "Thanks for that, Chae. I needed it."

"Anything for you." She smiles and pulls you in for a kiss.

You pull away with a gasp and look at her with wide eyes before diverting your attention to the road and continuing driving in silence. Your focus was solely on the road as you attempted to try and avoid the feelings you could possibly be feeling. While you were doing this, you failed to notice that Chaeyoung’s energy was dwindling, something she rarely lets other people see. All you could do was drive.

The car pulled up to the curb of Chaeyoung’s house and you put it into park. You finally turned to your best friend and saw how small she truly was for the first time in your life. You easily had a head of height on her but her energy was always so strong and exuberant that her physical size wasn’t even on your mind. But in that moment, she looked so small and vulnerable. The one who was always standing up for you and protecting you has a weakness: you.

“Chaeyoung…” You say quietly but she cuts you off.

“It’s okay, Charlie Brown. It was the heat of a moment thing. Something Bonnie and Clyde would do, you know?” she pasted a smile on but you could’ve sworn you saw her wipe a tear from her eye.

“You’re my best friend, Chaeyoung. We shouldn’t complicate that.” 

“You’re right, we shouldn’t do anything. Really, ___. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Like always.” She patted your hand that was gripping the gear shift with white knuckles. “Until next time.” Once again, she slipped out of the car before you could react and disappeared into the house by the time you got out to try and talk to her.

[wellthatjusthappend]

Can we Deadshot appreciating J's ass while Dick loses it? please and thank you!

Nice! I don't remember if Jason and Deadshot have ever worked together (or against each other) in the comics, but I feel like they would get along.

Also, thank you everyone who sent in villain suggestions and prompts!

Dick was getting a little worried that he’d get too used to Jason sleeping by his side.

Not that they’d really done anything but literally sleep next to each other, but it was… nice. Really nice. It made coming back to his apartment feel like an actual home sometimes rather than just another base of operations. Jason wasn’t there at all really during the day- though Dick sometimes woke up to find an extra plate of breakfast sitting around for him after Jay left- and their patrol schedules rarely synched up, but the simple fact of another person’s warmth beside him of Jason made Dick feel calm in ways he’d never expected.

He felt like he had been starving, but hadn’t realized it. His chest felt light and full in ways he couldn’t quite describe.

Dick still didn’t know why Jason had changed his mind and decided to stay with him. He said that he’d sorted out everything about the knife already (though Dick wasn’t sure he’d ever taken the threat seriously in the first place) so it didn’t make much sense. But Dick couldn’t deny that it eased much of the worry that had been building in his chest that Jason was with him and not out there getting seduced by some villain.

For some reason that relaxed feeling made him think that it would be a good idea to invite Jason onto a case he was working on.

There was a new supplier on the streets trying to break out into the market by slipping samples of his new drug into middle and high schoolers backpacks. Mostly he’d been hitting Bludhaven schools thus far- Dick had been a bit overwhelmed by some new gang wars lately so it took a while for him to notice- but apparently the guy was based out of Gotham.

Probably wanted to test the success of his drug before he tried a market where the Bat or the Red Hood might come down on him.

For good reason too, since Jason looked like he was going to murder someone when Dick showed him the case files.

“Keep it non-lethal Hood,” Dick warned as they suited up.

“Bastards like that deserve to burn in hell,” Jason snarled, the sound much more menacing through the voice mod of the helmet.

“I’m serious Hood-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the rules about working with you goldie,” Jason waved him off.

Dick still caught himself double checking that the bullets Jason had loaded were rubber.

It would always be weird working in masks in daylight, but sometimes there was no way around it.

They hid themselves in the shadows of a roof overlooking a school Dick had heard was starting to have more issues with the drug. Jason was tense beside him, and Dick had to remind himself that trying to lay any comforting hand on him right now would probably just end in violence.

They stayed in mostly silence as they waited for their mark to follow his usual routine and come up to the rooftop to set up shop for the burgeoning addicts of the school. Jason was better at long distance than he was, so Dick was hoping they could settle this quickly without terrorizing the school.

“Sniper on the building to left,” Jason suddenly said.

“ What?! ” Dick whipped around just to catch the slightest glint of a scope on a nearby roof.

“Doesn’t look like it’s aiming for us,” Jason commented.

“A sniper aiming anywhere near a school doesn’t sound good,” Dick shook his head, “I’ll go around back and see if I can take them by surprise. You stay here in case our guy comes out.”

He kind of though Jason might protest, but he just grunted his agreement. Dick supposed someone selling to kids would be a higher priority to him, especially since he could probably punish him more if Dick was busy.

Stomping down the bad feeling in his chest, Dick grappled up to a nearby ledge before scaling the building by hand to ensure a silent approach. When he pulled himself up onto the rooftop he saw the tripod and sniper rifle still poised and set up on the other edge of the roof, but no sign of the sniper himself.

Dick ducked just in time to miss a fist to the head.

He dropped automatically and kicked out, just barely missing taking the snipers legs out from under them.

“What the hell, aren’t Bats only supposed to come out at night?” grumbled a familiar voice.

“Deadshot?!” Dick said in surprise.

“Aw hell, what’s Lawton doing here?” grumbled Jason over the comm.

Dick didn’t really like the familiar way Jason said his name, but he had no time to dwell on it with one of the deadliest assassins in the world poised to fight in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Dick demanded, hands gripping his escrima sticks a little more firmly.

“Same thing as you, I’d imagine,” said Deadshot dryly, “unless there’s more drug selling scumbags hanging around kids that I don’t know about.”

“Lawton,” Jason said having apparently abandoned his post in favor of landing on the roof next to Dick and pulling off his helmet. Dick barely had time to process his alarm when Jason grinned and strode forward to clasp hands with Deadshot with a camaraderie that Dick didn’t like one bit, “good to see you man.”

“Should have known you’d be around, kid,” Deadshot grinned, clapping Jason on the back, “I liked your work on that fucker who was hanging around Madison school a couple months back. Nice and clean.”

Jason preened under the praise, and Dick scowled deeper. Not just because he didn’t know what had happened at Madison school- and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t like it when he found out- but also because Deadshot had not stopped touching Jason for whatever reason.

The fact that Jason didn’t even seem to notice implied that it was probably normal for them.

“You didn’t really answer the question before,” Dick said coming up beside them and barely resisting shoving between them, “What are you doing here?”

Deadshot looked between them, a hint of a smirk gracing his features for a moment.

“Don’t really tolerate bastards that target kids,” he shrugged, “I’ve got a daughter in Gotham, y’know? I do what I can to clean out the trash every now and then.”

“‘Priciate it,” Jason said back honestly, “I’ve missed working with you, man.”

“Right back at you, kid,” Deadshot said, giving Jason’s arm a squeeze, “One of these nights we should hit 10th and make a little noise. My kid has to take that road to the bus stop and the gangs there have been a little too arrogant for my liking.”

“It’s a date,” grinned Jason.

Dick ground his teeth.

“You better not have forgotten our no killing rule, Deadshot,” Dick said with a hard look.

“Ah, are you Bats the ones cramping Hood’s style these days?” Deadshot said lazily.

“They wish,” Jason snorted.

“No killing in Gotham, or it’s back to Blackgate,” Dick warned.

“Right, sure, like that place has ever held me,” Deadshot said dryly, making Jason snort. Dick glared at him.

“I’m serious…” Dick said gripping his escrima sticks a little tighter.

“Don’t worry, Nightwing, I’ve got a kid, remember?” Deadshot placated him, “I’m not going to do anything that is going to get me caught and sent to jail.”

Key word caught , Dick thought.

“Speaking of which, you want to take the shot, Hood?” Deadshot asked, jerking his chin towards the scope.

“Hell yeah,” Jason said, his face lighting up like Christmas had come early. Dick supposed they were nice guns, but Jason could have just as nice ones if he spent more time at the Manor.

Dick noticed Deadshot’s eye flicking down to admire ass and thighs ass he crouched down.

Dick made an angry warning sound, glaring at him. Deadshot just grinned in response.

“God, you’re obvious,” he chuckled quietly so Jason wouldn’t hear.

“Stay away from him,” Dick hissed back.

“Easy, birdy,” Deadshot said giving him a patronizing look, “He’s a bit young for me. Doubt the kid even knows he flirts as much as he does.”

“You’re flirting back,” Dick accused.

“Hardly a crime,” Deadshot said mockingly, “‘sides, I can still admire a nice view when I see one.”

A pointed look at Jason’s thighs again.

“You-” Dick started hotly.

*BANG*

Even silencer muffling things, the sound of the rifle going off was still startling.

“Got ‘em,” Jason said standing with a satisfied look.

“Nice one,” Deadshot said coming to admire the view as well.

“Jesus, Hood, we agreed non-lethal,” Dick cursed as looked as well at the supplier bleeding out on the rooftop.

“Sure, and it won’t be lethal if you get your ass down there and do your job until the pigs show up,” Jason shrugged without a hint of remorse.

Deadshot laughed and Dick cursed both of them again as he launched himself off the rooftop to the next building.

The guy would live, but he’d no doubt be crippled for life. No slipping into schools unnoticed anymore. A nicer fate than what Deadshot would have chosen no doubt, but Dick wasn’t in a charitable mood.

A glance at the rooftop where he’d come from showed that Jason and Deadshot had disappeared together somewhere.

Jason was going to drive him crazy by the end of this.

[forlornmelody]

Kord Center Mall: Good Son Bad Son

Rating: T (some sexual references)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jason Todd/Rose Wilson (kinda. They meet and banter but it’s very romance lite)

AO3 Link: Here

Summary:  Getting tutored in math is the worst, but it's not so bad when the tutor's kind of cute. It gets even better when his younger brother shows up.

Note: This is a cross over, mall-verse AU concocted by @scifi-ginger and myself. You’ve been warned. This also takes place before any of the other fics in the series. Time is a construct, right?

-*-*-*

Three Years Ago

Rose always took Dick for more of a jock. So, when he offers to tutor her in math, she laughs it up. Figures they’ll end up binge watching on the couch with a bowl full of popcorn and cheese puffs--with Dick politely and repeatedly turning down Rose’s offers to personally pop those puffs in his mouth. But Dick has a lot hiding under that smarmy smile of his. 

It’s literally unfair how good at math Dick is. Maybe it’s his adopted pedigree. Billionaire Bruce Wayne can afford the best tutors in Gotham. More likely, Dick charmed his teachers like he charmed everyone else. He has her head spinning with equations--numbers, letters, whatever the fuck x is supposed to be when he finally breaks to find some snacks. There’s one good thing about Wayne Manor--Alfred always makes the best cookies. Brain food, Dick calls them. 

Rose hears footsteps and she groans over her textbook. Bastard forgot to bring the cookies back with him. Alfred always bakes them fresh whenever she comes over--she would’ve smelled them by now. “Look, Dick, I know you’re trying to help but if I try and solve for x one more time, I will literally burn this place to the ground.”

“Damn. Good thing I hate math as much as you do.” The hand that braces itself on the table next to Rose’s book has more scars on it than Rose dare count. She itches to trace them with her fingertips, but she holds herself back. Instead she peeks at the stranger with this bright, sardonic voice. 

“You’re not Dick,” she says without thinking. First, she notices the way the softness of his green eyes contrast with the sharp angles of his nose and chin. He stands slightly shorter than Dick would, but with the way his arms and legs dangle all gangly and shit--he’ll outgrow him sooner than later. 

He snorts. “No, really? I had no idea.” His eyes dart up and down her body, as if one look will answer his next question. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Rose.” She leaves her last name out of it. Enough girls at St. Mary’s whisper her father’s name behind her back--Rose’s a little sick of hearing it. “You?”

He plops in the chair next to her ass backwards, draping his arms over the back. “Jason.”

Rose sits up. “Jason Todd?” Oooh, this just got a lot more interesting. She’s heard stories. Everyone with two ears has by this point. Late night joy rides in Bruce Wayne’s favorite car, riding dirt bikes down the staircase during one of Wayne’s parties--guy knew how to have fun. Cookies could wait. 

Jason leans a little closer. “In the flesh.”

Oh. She can play this game. “Oh? Does Bruce the Bachelor collect you all as trophies or…?”

Eyes widening a little, Jason breaks out in a grin as he tilts his head, taking her in. “Most folks Dick brings home aren’t this feisty.” 

“I’m tutoring her, Jason Peter Todd. Don’t be an ass.” Dick says from behind them, and Rose nearly jumps out of her seat. 

“Oh? That’s what they’re calling it these days?”

“Don’t you have trouble to be getting into?” Dick’s staring at his younger brother in exasperation and Rose finds it adorable. It’s halfway into her next lesson when she realizes Dick’s not the center of her daydreams anymore. Damn. She should’ve snagged Jason’s number. Sure, she could always snatch a peak at Dick’s phone when he’s not looking. Guessing his pin won’t take long. But would a surprise text from her number help or hurt her chances of getting into his pants?

“Hey.” Rose interrupts Dick mid-formula. “Is Jace--son with anyone?”

Dick taps his mechanical pencil on the graph paper between them. “He’s not really the...why are you asking me?”

“Priorities, Dick. You’ve been holding out on me.”

Rubbing his temple, Dick sets the pencil aside. “How old are you?”

“Legal.”

“You’re a sophomore, Rose.” Dick jabs his finger back at the hallway Jason sauntered off into. “He just graduated.”

Rose shrugs. “It’s only a problem if we get caught.”

Dick stands up. “Hold on. I need something stronger for my coffee.”

“Get me some too!” Rose calls out after him. She does sneak a peek at Dick’s phone and saves Jason’s number. But she doesn’t text him for another twelve months.

[thepurplebutterflythings]

Damsel in Distress (Part 8) - Jason Todd

Gif: Dxnninja on Tenor

Tagging: @n-o-e-l-12  @oneshots-dc-marvel  @my-only-friend-is-the-moon @perturbacja @calcatss @attackonnat @batferma 

Word Count: 2.0K

Paring: Jason Todd (Titans) x (f)Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jason try to adjust to their new situation following their parting.

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This is a little series I am doing about Jason Todd in Titans. I don’t know Comic!Jason very well so I’m taking all of this from the show, and at the moment he hasn’t been in very often, so please forgive any mischaracterizations.

Damsel in Distress Part 7 | Masterlist | Damsel in Distress Part 9/Finale

_______________________________________________________________

“What’s up with you?” Kacey huffed as she watched Y/N stare sadly into her cup of tea, “you’ve done nothing but mop lately and honestly it’s getting tiring now, especially because you won’t tell any of us what’s wrong. How can we help you if you won’t tell us what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said as she looked up from her drink to meet Kacey’s eyes. She tried to smile to fool Kacey that everything was alright but it turned into more of a horrible grimace which made Kacey scrunch up her face as she stared back at Y/N.

“That would be a lot more convincing if you didn’t look like you were changing your smile to hide cracked teeth,” Kacey rolled her eyes.

“Look, I don’t really wanna talk about it,” Y/N insisted, brushing the question off, “let’s talk about something else, literally anything.”

Jason plagued Y/N’s mind. It had been three weeks and it hadn’t gotten any better. Every dream she had, Jason was there both as himself and as Robin. Every daydream she had would wonder to Jason and what she had done. Every book she read, the words would shift and change and form Jason’s image. Every time she wrote in her journal, she would write of Jason. Jason was everywhere she looked and she couldn’t escape him. Y/N occasionally caught him glancing at her in physics, but there was nothing really between them anymore. She had no idea what to say to him, what to talk about. Y/N didn’t want to end it between herself and Jason, not really, but she couldn’t bring herself to approach him.

“Erm, okay,” Kacey nodded awkwardly, “how’s physics?”

“Good,” Y/N said, “that project thing I had to do with Jason is over and we both passed, so there’s that.”

“That’s good,” Kacey said, “that was a tough project.”

“Yeah,” Y/N coughed, noticing she had finished her tea, “I’m gonna get another tea,” she said standing up and walking up to the counter. Y/N quietly spoke her order to the barista and when she was given her new tea, she paid, picked up the cup and turned to return to Sandy, but as she turned Y/N nearly crashed into someone. “Whoa!”

The person caught Y/N and made sure that she didn’t spill her hot drink over herself or them, or on the floor. It was an effortless rescue and quick. Y/N blinked and turned to look at who caught her to see Jason Todd standing there. Y/N felt her jaw drop and became awkward, cupping her tea in her hand, pulling her legs together and looked at the floor. Jason himself also seemed surprised, looking Y/N up and down and shoving his hands in his pockets after brushing his hair back. Looking at Jason, Y/N found herself replaying that night where they were tangled between her sheets in her mind, causing her cheeks to redden.

“Hey…” Jason shifted awkwardly.

“Hi…”

“How’ve you been?”

“Erm…” Y/N shifted from foot to foot, “as expected, I guess…” she coughed, “what about you?”

“Same,” Jason mumbled. He looked down at the floor and then at Y/N. “I… miss you…”

“I miss you too,” Y/N confessed, “but… I still need time…”

“I know,” Jason nodded, “I won’t push you, and I will wait until you are ready.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Anytime,” Jason smiled faintly, “Damsel…”

Y/N also smiled and brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. The two made eye contact for a moment before Y/N nodded goodbye and returned to Kacey. Jason then walked over to the counter to place his order.

“What was that?” Kacey asked curiously.

“Just chatting.”

“Sure,” Kacey nodded as she rolled her eyes, “that’s why you both looked like you’ve had your hearts ripped out.”

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you, Kacey,” Y/N sighed, “Jason and I were talking.”

“Alright…” Kacey shrugged.

Jason had collected his drink in a to-go cup and headed towards the door, but he had to pass Y/N and Kacey. Y/N and Jason made eye contact as he passed by, seemingly walking slower and looking at her longer while he passed, as though taking all of her in, worried it would not happen again. He gave her a goodbye nod before opening the door and walking out.

Y/N glared at Kacey to tell her not to ask.

_______________________________________________________________

“It’s torture,” Jason groaned down the phone to Dick, who just audibly sighed. “I know, I know, give her space, and I am doing that. I didn’t know she’d be at that coffee shop, if I did, I’d never have gone there, but seeing her… god, it brought up all these feelings.”

Jason had decided to call Dick after seeing Y/N in the coffee shop. The moment he got back to Wayne Manor, he headed to his bedroom and fell onto his bed in exhaustion before grabbing his mobile and hitting Dick’s name with his thumb in his contacts. The former Robin was

“You are doing good, Jason,” Dick assured him, “and I get the pain, trust me, it sucks, but all you can do is wait.”

“I know,” Jason sighed, “but it felt so good and so bad at the same time, being so close to her. I could smell her shampoo – god I miss that scent. It’s nice and light, and kinda warm and comforting.”

“Yeah, if this phone call is gonna be just you telling me about the smell of Y/N’s shampoo, I think I should go…”

“No,” Jason burst, sitting upright on the bed he was stretched out on. “I’ll stop, but I did want to talk about something…”

“Yeah?”

“Bruce…”

“Bye, Jason.”

“Wait, you didn’t let me finish.”

“Fine.”

“Do I tell him about this?”

“Does he know about her?”

“Yes.”

“I wouldn’t,” Dick said, “from my experiences, Bruce isn’t the most comforting or helpful in situations like this.”

“Okay,” Jason sighed, “I mean, you’re probably right, but it just feels a little wrong keeping it from him.”

“You wanna know what Bruce would say?” Dick said, “He’d tell you to back off completely from Y/N, and he’d threaten to take Robin away from you. Either you lose Robin or you lose Y/N. Don’t do it, Jason.”

“Thanks, Dick,” Jason said.

“Anytime, Jason. Look, I’ve gotta go now, but if you wanna talk about this…”

“I know, and I appreciate it, Dick.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” Jason hung up the phone and turned to see Alfred standing there. The butler gave Jason a fully sympathetic look, his hands folded neatly behind his back, and Jason realized he had heard the entire conversation with Dick “shit!”

“So, I presume Master Richard was able to give sound advice regarding Miss Y/N/L?”

“You heard everything?”

“It wasn’t hard to guess, Master Jason,” Alfred walked into the room and closed the door behind him for privacy, “be glad it was me and not Master Bruce.”

“Trust me, I am.”

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” Alfred asked in a gentle voice.

“I screwed up, I slipped, like you said I would,” Jason groaned, sitting down on the bed, “She wants space. I hurt her bad, Alfred, and then I ran into her in the coffee shop… God, I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not,” Alfred said, “You’re a young man very much in love, and being in love causes people to forget their rational thought.” Alfred sat next to Jason and put his gloved hand on Jason’s shoulder. “What is going to happen now?”

“She still loves me, she said she does…” Jason said quietly “and I still love her… other than that… I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should do something for her,” Alfred suggested, “something which shows her how much she means to you?”

Jason thought for a moment, nodding in agreement. It was such a simple yet effective idea. All he had to do now was figure out what he could do for Y/N. Jason wanted what he came up with to be significant for the two of them, and he had a few ideas, but he wanted to take his time with this. He was not going to screw things up with Y/N again. With Alfred still sitting on the bed, Jason stood and walked to his sock draw, opened it and pulled out a little box, popping the lid up and gently lifting the necklace he had brought for Y/N and the one she once wore, tearfully returning it to his possession when they parted. He held it against his chest and nodded.

“Yeah… that could work…”

_______________________________________________________________

Y/N so badly missed Jason and wanted to call him. She would sit on her bed and stare at her phone, which she would lay in front of her on her bed, biting her thumb and wondering if she could call him, and if she should call him. All Y/N wanted to do was talk to someone about her current situation, and ironically the only person she would talk to about it all was Jason.

She missed him, both as Jason and as Robin, yet seeing him in the coffee shop the previous week, crashing into him like that, it reminded her of the pain she felt when she discovered the truth, but Y/N knew that she could still be with him, she had no clue why she was postponing it, going and talking to him. No, she knew, Y/N knew why she was stalling it – she was scared, scared of what happens next.  Y/N knew that the following steps were being a couple, being happy, being exclusive and serious and having people see them as a couple, romantic and in love, and it scared her, because, what if it didn’t work out? What if she lost the one person in her life that she couldn’t be without?

Dating a vigilante, while complicated, Y/N could handle, but breaking up with Jason Todd she couldn’t. It would destroy her to lose Jason. She loved him too much to risk anything happening to him – breaking his heart or otherwise. God, why did they have to get paired up on that Physics project together? That was what brought them together and that is what led to this.  

Y/N just sighed and put her phone on her bedside table before climbing under the sheets and pulling them over her head. When she was in bed, Y/N could pretend it was all a horrible nightmare and that she could wake up from it all soon, but alas she could not sleep. Even an hour later, Y/N was still awake, and an hour after that. Those late nights with Jason as Robin really messed up her sleep schedule, which was already bad to begin with. She was so tired and she wanted to sleep, to give her body to the mattress until she was forced to get up the next morning.

Her mobile started to go off, ringing shrilly, forcing Y/N to emerge from the sheets and pick it up. She didn’t even check the caller ID before answering.

“Hello?” Y/N said tiredly.

“Can you come outside?”

“Huh?” Y/n blinked. “Jason?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Jason said down the line. “I’m outside your building.”

Y/N turned and looked at her balcony, Jason wasn’t there.

“Where?”

“On the street.” He spoke so gently and so softly that Y/N felt a sudden wave of warmth come over her as she listened to him, having the memories of the past year, of them on her balcony, in her room, sitting together, talking, flashed through her mind. How couldn’t she have seen it before? She thought, that Jason was Robin, and not because of the similarities physically between them, but because they were both so considerate and caring over those they loved. She felt almost foolish for not seeing it because two people as amazing and lovely as that was a one in a million possibility. A rarity.

“What are you doing down there?” Y/N said climbing from her bed and pulling her shoes, on, holding the phone in position with one hand, “you know how easy you can get to the balcony.”

“Please, Y/N, can you come down?” Jason asked.

“I’m on my way down.” She told him, grabbing her shawl and heading towards the door, eager to finally see Jason again.

[oculusius]

Desk Jockey

“I want that report on my desk at 6 AM tomorrow or your ass is on the street.”

I look up from my keyboard, from the sickeningly modern, blank desk to the even worse face of my branch manager. Picture what you’d expect the person saying this to look like, and you’re probably right. Tall, dark hair combed back, slicked back with just enough gel to not be disgusting. Attractive, but only conventionally, because it hides his fetid interior. The rotten, wriggling insides of the kind of guy who relishes other’s misery, especially when he’s snorting high grade blow on the weekends. Though he’d probably prefer orphan’s tears (But that’s a story for another time).

I’ll do my best, you fucking cretin.

I mumble out some garbled excuse. I won’t even tell you what I said because I forget, or rather, it was so insignificant that I never committed it to memory in the first place. “Sorry Eric,” (He’s one of the ‘hip’ bosses that makes us call him by his first name), “Won’t happen again”, Please don’t take my healthcare away I will literally suck your dick to keep it. He shakes his head and walks away. We’re the last ones in the office, one of the tallest buildings in our shitty, Midwestern town; all glass and steel like some gaudy San Francisco startup. The only lights still on are in the lobby; besides that the only other illumination is from the sickeningly crisp glow emanating from my monitor. As soon as the elevator doors close behind Eric, I grasp my hair in my hands; it’s drenched in sweat and I’m balding already, despite being in my late twenties. Flakes of dandruff are appearing on my scalp, but by the time I get home from work I’m too damn tired to remember to get that special shampoo. Stress related? Probably. Did I have time to fix it? Fuck no.

I swear to God you motherfucker I’ll name you when I eat a fucking bullet you shit fuck…

Stop. The more rational voice in my head. Finish this shit in the next—5 hours? Shit, it’s already 1 AM! I’ll smash bottles and get proper wasted when I’m finished. And when the following day is over, seeing as I’d probably be pulling an all-nighter. Fuck. I take two caffeine pills from the nondescript tin in my top drawer.

Alright. I need to get the excel sheet from that old email inbox the intern left when he quit (not that I blame him). To do that, I need to go through my inbox and find that time I CC’ed him about scheduling that conference call. But to get into my inbox, I need to reset my password because company policy is to change passwords every 3 weeks, and it can’t be a past password…

Alright. One step at a time.

 It’s two hours later. I found the file, finally. I feel like I crossed the fucking Rubicon with no limbs to get here. Now, to get the shit I need from it and send it to Eric. I hope he chokes on it. While bleeding. From every orifice, and then some. I open the file, and I’ve never been so goddamn happy to see the sickening green of excel. Document recovery—what’s that? Fuck it, I’ll deal with it later. I ctrl f the account name. Beads of sweat are dripping off my forehead. Outside, it’s still the vaguely pinkish black of night in any big city. I might actually get some sleep tonight…

WHY IS THERE A FUCKING HYPERLINK HERE?

Oh boy, this better not cost me my job. I get sent to a greyish webpage, the kind of soulless portal that screams ‘high finance’. A nondescript login page for “Kleene-Rosser Accounts Management LLC”. I roll my eyes. Management occasionally threw us these shitty platforms because their friends from way back developed them, and they wanted to help them out. Because God forbid we use Citibank.

There’s no login, but there’s a support number on the bottom of the page. Maybe if I call, they can help me? It’s worth a shot. I mean, I had nothing but time, and if it actually worked and saved my job, I would fly all the way to India or some shit to kiss that phone technician on the lips. Alright. God, when I was an undergrad did I ever imagine this would be my waking life (or lack thereof?) I should’ve joined the military. Better to be blown up overseas then mentally scarred over here.

4-887-612-393: 24/7 Live Support

I call from my office phone, in the hopes that it’ll lend credence to the claim that I fucking need this login. The phone rings for what seems like half an hour, but I can tell from the clock on the wall that it hasn’t been a single, godforsaken minute. Maybe I’d died and gone to purgatory? Seemed believable enough—although, I wasn’t sure what I’d done in a past life to deserve this. Maybe I was a Mongol slavedriver, and…

“Hello, this is ZenDesk, my name is Robert. How may I help you today?” My crisis of existential spiraling instantly, mercifully, shatters. I put on a cheery voice.

“Hi, I work at [company name]. I really need to find something for my boss, and in this accounts payable excel file, it says that I’m supposed to login to a ‘Kleene-Rosser Accounts Management?’ I have all my company info if you need it, I was just never told we used this firm before.”

A beat passes. I hope he heard the desperation in my voice, because if I had a guardian angel, it’d be on the other end of that phone line. Why did I tell him I never heard of this place? He doesn’t care! He isn’t paid to care!

“Of course, sir. Just a moment please. What’s your name sir?”

That thin veneer of politeness again.

“Uh, Keith Sanders. I also have my company email, if you can send the password there…”

“OK sir, what’s the address?”

I spell it out for him. My fingers are digging into the faux-leather of the chair. I’m starting to sweat. If this doesn’t work, I’m fucking hosed…

I tell him the address, and soon I have the URL to reset the Kleene-Rosser password. Surprisingly, my company email works for the username. Lucky guess I suppose? I thank him, truly from the bottom of my heart, and wait for the page to load.

According to the web page, the site was some kind of file storage service. Besides a few nondescript tabs on the top leading to “Home”, “Support”, etc. there’s nothing but a grey background set behind a very basic file directory.

[company_name]/Accounts/Accounts_Payable/2019/May/.

There it is! So deceptively close. 05.19.19.xcl

When I try to open it, I hear the most awful of noises: the Windows 10 error sound, impossibly loud. File corrupted. WHAT THE FUCK? HOW DO YOU CORRUPT A FUCKING EXCEL FILE? SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS SIDEWAYS?

I dig my fingertips into my temples. I can feel the faint outline of an engorged vein on the side of my head. I imagine it, an angry, vibrant purple, the shooting representation of my immense, earth-shattering frustration.

It was as if every cog in the infernal machine that was my work place was designed specifically to drive me fucking bananas. Like my life was some cosmic joke to see how much I would endure before going postal, or at least smashing my monitor. Jump out an office window, strapped with speakers blaring “FUCK THIS PLACE” over and over again, even when they’re scraping me off the pavement with a comically large spatula. Every little thing piled atop one another to form the worst shit tsunami eternally suspended above my head. Every wriggling, squealing fucking cell in my brain…

Alright, let’s think of solutions. Eric wanted the file, and if it was corrupted, I’d just tell him the truth: that it’s how I found it. Man, why did I drive myself up the wall earlier? So stupid… I log into my email. Actually, I don’t. As soon as I hit enter in the URL bar, I get that fucking google “no internet” error dinosaur. At this point, I try to keep rolling with the punches. Alright, network diagnostics, here we go. After what feels like centuries, after windows resets the router, etc. I finally get an answer. Sort of. An error code. I had two hours left before I was unemployed. I take another caffeine pill and keep going, determined to see this shit through to the end.

Hidden on the fifth page of the search results is my answer. It’s on an obscure, early 2000s web forum that had a grand total of 2 users online, probably bots. A post from a literal decade ago has my same issue, and one of the commenters mentions he had the same thing. Apparently, it’s a hardware issue with the router. Despite being woefully underqualified to deal with IT issues, I have no other choice. No fucking way Eric will believe that the internet cut out 2 hours before my deadline. I find the tech support number, and pray that the information is up to date and that they won’t have to send a technician out to fix it.

As the phone rings, I ponder my situation. I was unlucky enough to find what I needed right as the Wi-Fi died, and it was probably one of those issues that fixes itself in an hour anyway. There it is again; I can almost see the shadowy gears of the universe working against me, trying to crush my psyche beneath their teeth into bits of mental scrap. When I finally get a response, I’m caught off guard. This guy seems American. His voice is a bit hoarse, and I picture him as the fat comic book guy from the Simpsons, gut and all.

“----- tech support. How can I help you?”

I don’t like the way his voice trails off every word, leaving a breathy wisp behind like the tail of a comet. It makes me want to shudder.

“Yeah, uh—“

My mind blanks for a minute. I’ve been derailed, and it takes an agonizing few seconds for me to decide what I want to say.

“I was trying to email my boss, and—“again with the unnecessary details “I got this error code, and I saw online that it was an issue with the router.”

“Uh huh.” He sounds skeptical. And disapproving. I imagine he’s wrinkled that gob of cartilage clinging to his face he calls a nose. “What’s the model number?” He finally asks.

I read off the name, and he laughs. He fucking laughs. Is my suffering amusing him? Arousing him?

I have a clearer image of this guy now. Pervading my mind, filling the gaps in my brain, covering my synaptic gaps with fucking cement. He’s grossly overweight, in some dark room somewhere. He smells like BO and he is sweaty milky beads off his forehead that are landing into his keyboard and congealing. The scent is odious, like a corpse coated in mayonnaise and left in a tomb for five millennia, except it’s still wet.

“Sir?” That subtle tone of annoyance again. “Do you understand me, sir?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry. Would you mind repeating that? I was just—talking to someone.” Idiot he can tell you weren’t.

I write down his instructions, but first he pontificates about some issue with a chip in the router or some shit. Apparently I have to call the manufacturer? And they can help me dust it off or some such?

He’s fleshy and sickeningly soft, like a malformed, hairless puppy. That shirt’s been pasted to his damp stomach longer than you’ve been on Earth. It’s just a crude impersonation of the kind of people that run this industry. And you’re just his plaything, to be antagonized and fucked with until…

As soon as my attention is re-centered, I say “Alright thanks bye” without even knowing what he was rambling about before. He laughs. No, cackles. I can practically smell the stale coffee and tobacco on his breath. I slam the receiver down. It was starting to stick to my face with sweat and I really wanted to switch to my cell anyway. Peeling it away was orgasmic.

I examine the napkin I had scribbled on. I’d written it down in a haze, and it almost felt like I was reading someone else’s handwriting. Was that a 5, or a 6, or what? Doesn’t matter. I plug in the numbers, to some obscure fucking company I know nothing about. There’s like 12 digits, not like any number I’ve ever dialed. Unbeknownst to me, I was about to make the worst fucking mistake of my life, worse than taking on that debt to go to college or that time I puked on grandma’s casket at the funeral. Light years away, I imagine, some metaphysical blade was eagerly, sexually, preparing to scoop out my insides and flay them across time and space, flicking its imaginary tongue back and forth in anticipation.

I had expected that infuriating error code, but instead, I feel it. All of it. The other side is cold, and every hair on my body stands right on edge.

“Hello?”

The phone’s definitely connected.

“Hello?!”

This time it seems to echo. I’d opened a door, a beaming ray of light into a place that hasn’t been graced by it in eons.

“Is this Infolink appliances?” I gulp suddenly. My throat is impossibly dry. Everything that made me me, my identity, my memories, my interests… were spilling out into space, into an impossible void far blacker than even the darkest of nights. Please. Like my brain was a plastic bag full of air, but now it’s been punctured. It’s getting sucked out like a breached spaceship, and my body is curling around the now torturous void. I am a husk.

I drop the phone on the ground, and the screen cracks. But I’m far beyond caring about that screen now. The spiritual, inky black is billowing out of the phone like an endless wave going out in every direction. And there’s something else. A raucous laughter, and sneering, they’re laughing so hard somewhere backstage that their mouths, or whatever they call those fucking gullets, are overflowing with sickening white foam with streaks of yellow bile. Dark silhouettes that have been eagerly waiting this whole time for this horrible climax. I’d played my part. Everything else was out of my hands now.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Playdate

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood feat. the SuperSons!

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: I saw a fanart of Jon asking Jason if he could do the flippy thing with his guns that cowboys do.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I love Jason so much. @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad @welovegroot

^^^^^

Jon Kent—ten years old, Superboy, son of Lois Lane and Clark Kent.

Damian Wayne—thirteen years old, Robin, son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne.

Jason Todd—twenty-one years old, Red Hood, so-called “Son of No One.” Also my boyfriend.

The three of them together in a room was a recipe for disaster.

For one, Jon is an absolute sweetheart with a heart made of the purest gold. Damian and Jason are brothers with major issues. If either of them get out of hand, directed towards the other, that’ll upset Jon.

For two, Jon and Damian are best friends. Somehow. I have no idea how that happened. The two of them together can be a bit of a show. If they get out of hand, Jason might lose his cool and flip out. Or shoot something. Which would be bad.

For three, Jon—for some reason—is absolutely loving Jason. Asking him all these questions about being the Red Hood and pretending to be a bad guy while actually being a good guy. If Jon gets a little too buddy-buddy with Jason, Damian is sure to get jealous and freak out.

Great idea for a playdate, huh?

^^^^^

I leaned against the doorframe to the parlor that Jason, Damian, and Jon were occupying. Jason had hidden his loaded mags and was in the process of cleaning his guns sitting on the floor next to the coffee table while Damian and Jon discussed comic books on the sofa. Damian didn’t see the point of them. Jon was explaining why they were awesome.

Grinning, I tugged my phone out of my pocket and texted Jason. Hey, I sent.

His phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it. Then looked up at me, confused.

I typed another message, sent it, and pointed at my phone, still smiling. You have your safeties on right?

He looked up from his phone and cocked an eyebrow at me like, Duh! Even though they were also unloaded.

I texted him again. Ask Jon if he likes cowboys.

That was the first time he texted me back. Why?

You’ll see.

Jason twitched his eyebrows at me and turned his attention to the boys. “Hey Jon?” Jason asked. The ten-year-old perked up and looked over.

“Yeah?” He looked curious, bright, and excited.

I still had no idea how he and Damian became such good friends.

“Do you like cowboys?” Jason continued, still cleaning the barrel of one gun.

Jon beamed. “I mean, yeah I guess. Oh. Oh! Oh! Can you do the flippy thing?”

Jason shot me a look over Jon and Damian’s shoulders, finally understanding my strange suggestion.

Jason grinned and shoved some empty clips into both of his guns for weight and balance, checked the safeties despite the fact that both clips were unloaded, and spun both guns around his fingers simultaneously with the loop of metal around the triggers. Like a cowboy in an old western movie. He caught them perfectly by the handles, almost striking a pose.

Jon gasped like someone brought a unicorn into the room and clapped. “That was so cool!” he exclaimed.

I snickered and looked back down at my phone. What was that you were saying the other day about you think you’re a bad brother?

Jason looked down at his phone, set his guns down, and texted me back. Jon is not my brother, princess.

I shrugged when he looked at me and sent him, Well, he’s Dami’s best friend so he’s basically family, right?

You’re as bad as Dick and Bruce: adopting everyone in sight.

“Are you two texting while in the same room?!” Damian demanded.

“Duh, half-pint,” Jason retorted, resuming the gun cleaning. “Don’t want you two to eavesdrop.”

“Todd, so help me! I swear to—”

“Damian,” I interrupted. “How about you show Jon the library? Dick and Tim have a collection of their old comic books in there. He might like to see them.”

Jon gasped again. “That’d be so cool! Can we?” he asked Damian.

Who sighed and got to his feet. “Yes, we may. Come along.” He got off the sofa. Jon hopped up and followed after Damian, looking a bit like an excited puppy.

Jason set his guns down and got up to follow them. He took my hand at the door and we started walking behind the two younger boys. “So what was that about? Why are you smiling like that?”

“They’re both just cute kids,” I said. “I mean, despite Damian always being a bit of a grouch, he’s still a kid who should be allowed to act like one. And I know Jon breaks down his barriers so, yeah. Anything that makes Jon laugh or smile might get a similar but smaller reaction from Damian.” I shrugged. “Also proving a point to you that you’re a great brother.”

Jason rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re still smiling,” he said.

“Yeah. You’re actually really good with kids and it’s adorable.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Are you implying something, darling?” he teased.

I shrugged. “Maybe just that you’re not the big, scary, intimidating crime boss everyone thinks you are,” I returned playfully.

Jason captured my shoulders in his dirty-from-cleaning hands, stopping us as Damian and Jon pulled even farther away from us. “I thought you were implying that I’d make a good dad.”

“You will make a good dad, one day. But for now, I don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

He set his forehead against mine, going cross-eyed just a little to keep looking at me. “I think you’re right. About the second part. About the first… I don’t think so.” He let me go and we went back to following the boys to the library.

Ahead, I heard Jon whooping and shouting, “WHOA!” They must have reached the library.

“Jay,” I complained, following him and taking up a seat on the sofa. “What’s got you playing a Negative Nathan today?”

“Babe, we both know, really, that I have too much of Willis in me to be a good dad.”

Huffing, I leaned all the weight of my upper body against his arm. “That’s not true. You have some of your father Willis in you. But you have more of your dad.”

“My da—oh. You mean Bruce.” He didn’t look particularly impressed as we ducked into the library.

Jon was hovering six feet in the air at the top of the bookshelf dedicated to Tim and Dick’s collection of comic books while Damian stood on the ladder next to Jon.

“Babe,” Jason continued, “I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“That’s fine. We don’t have to now,” I said. “I'm just saying, you’re good with kids. And there’s nothing more attractive to me than that.” I teasingly pinched his chin and tugged it down so I could kiss the tip of his nose.

Damian gagged. “Todd, if you and your partner must engage in displays of affection, please refrain from doing so in my presence.”

“Hey, she started it,” Jason said. I shrugged unapologetically, smiling at Damian.

Who, thankfully, didn’t mind me—in fact, he kinda liked me since I was always nice to him and occasionally bought him a new sketchbook when I noticed his old ones were all full or new pencils—so he just rolled his eyes. “Alright,” he relented.

Jon swooped over to Jason. “How come none of these are yours?” he asked, hovering a few feet off the ground so he and Jason were at the same eye-level.

Jason just looked at him for a second, deciding on what to say. “Because I took mine with me when I moved out,” he finally said. “And I didn’t have very many anyway. I was more of a classic novel reader.”

“Hmm,” Jon said. “Are those good?”

“Depends on your taste,” Jason said.

“Can you show me?”

Jason shrugged. “Sure kid,” he said. He turned around. “Hop on.”

Without hesitating, Jon latched onto Jason’s back and let him carry him through the library to some of his old favorites while Damian and I followed behind—after Damian dropped off the ladder. Damian muttered under his breath in Arabic from a few feet to my side. I tsked and looked over at him. “Don’t talk about your brother like that,” I said.

Damian stared at me in surprise. “Forgive me. I did not realize you understood Arabic,” he said.

I started laughing. “I don’t,” I said. “I just made an educated guess.”

Damian shot me a glare—but it was a softer glare than the one he usually dealt to literally everyone else except Jon and maybe Alfred when he was in the right mood. “I admire your intelligence,” he admitted, grumbling.

“Thank you, Damian,” I said.

Jason was excitedly describing Pride and Prejudice to Jon when me and Damian finally caught up to them—the library is huge. Jon was listening with rapt attention, even if he didn’t appear to be the most interested in the book, he was enjoying the way Jason was describing it while bouncing around and doing dramatic twists that caused Jon to go, “WHOA!” and squeal with laughter.

Jason noticed Damian standing next to me with his arms crossed, scowling to curdle milk.

A mischievous, brotherly smile tugged on Jason’s face.

“No. Todd! No!” Damian exclaimed, noticing the look on Jason’s face.

“Toooooooo late!” Jason retorted, snatching Damian around the waist and hoisting him up.

“UNHAND ME, TODD!” Damian snapped as Jason started spinning around the library, cackling while Jon laughed and Damian shouted. I chuckled and backed away so I wouldn’t get hit by any flying limbs.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad, one day, Jason,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him. “You might not see it now, but you will.”

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

pls expand on your ridiculous experiences during one semester at a fake college

okay I got a few asks about this so let me see what I can remember right now. These might not all be in chronological order

- At orientation, they were talking about the reservation near campus and all these pretty sites and this kid in the back of the auditorium goes “So uhh…heard this place might be built over a Native American burial ground?”

- The speaker: “…Let’s not think about that, okay?”

- The freshman were on campus alone for like a week and a half (other than the RA’s) before the other students and I just. The parties. Were out of control. An ambulance was called basically every night.

- I walked into the bathroom the first night there to find a girl literally dying because someone slipped something in her drink and she was having a Very Bad Reaction

- Sting- you know, the singer- ‘s son lived in my residence hall. This boy almost accidentally killed me on three separate occasions (while I was just trying to do my laundry)

- I told my family about this at Thanksgiving. Everyone in the room advised me to seduce him

- I ate breakfast in the dining hall exactly once. I got scrambled eggs. I noticed no one had brought out ketchup with the condiments and politely asked about it. I received glares from at least ten different people. Apparently people there don’t believe in ketchup on eggs.

- There were these two boys in my English class known as “The Lumbard Guys”. They didn’t live in my residence hall, but they would come over almost every night, start a party, and destroy part of the basement.

- At orientation this one kid got mad and set his shoe on fire to prove a point

- Also at orientation like??? My roommate disappeared???? And I never saw her again???

- Listen like…this campus just looked like the perfect setting for a horror film, but none of the people from the area got that. They all thought I was crazy until some comic from Comedy Central did a stand up act and said “Why the hell is this campus so creepy? I feel like I’m gonna leave here with someone else wearing my face!”. I felt way too validated.

- ALL OF MY CLASSES WERE SO FAKE

- My “math” class was actually a disguised home ec. course???? All we had were word problems that were incredibly detailed recipes or instructions on how to fix things. The teacher, who I swear to GOD was actually my Mr-Rogers-Wannabe guidance counselor from high school in disguise, spent more time trying to come up with names and backstories for the models in the text book than actually trying to teach

- I had to take a class called “first year seminar” because neither of my parents went to college. It was supposed to be teaching you about how the school works and stuff but SUPRISE BITCH WE’RE JUST GONNA YELL ABOUT RACISM AND PRIVELGE FOR AN HOUR.

- Literally that’s all we did. Just the whole class bonding over all these struggles we had gone through and getting fired up. Like, it was great, but I also ended up knowing very little about campus and school stuff bc that was the class that was supposed to be teaching me lmao

- My Psych teacher was fucking hysterical for the first few classes but then he just. Vanished. I had to drop the class

- My Fine Arts teacher just. Couldn’t stick to a teaching plan. Her entire wardrobe was scarves. She was very passionate about African masks. She had a flapper haircut. She spoke quietly, but with a marvelously forced tone of voice that I’m certain was her trying to sound impressive and hide a Boston accent. She didn’t seem to understand the year was 2014. She took us into the city to go to the Art Museum and we lost her in there, never to be seen again

- I’m not even kidding

- My “writing” teacher was my absolute fav omfg. She was this long grey haired hippie lady who worked as a nurse for the Grateful Dead and was still stuck there. She may or may not have hooked up with my uncle. I was her favorite student because one day I came in wearing a “HAIR” shirt. She wanted to take the class to England for the sole purpose of going on a Beatles tour

- But like…she did not teach a writing class omfg. She taught a social justice class. All we did was have informed debates about The Issues and listen to music and occasionally watch the Breakfast Club. Every time there was a big paper due on the syllabus, she’d just sit on her desk and go “I mean, I don’t have to cover anything, right? You guys know how to write!” Like I genuinely don’t think she knew what class she was teaching

- There was a boy who sat next to me in that class. He was deaf in one ear and used that as an excuse when he got caught blatantly not paying attention. It worked every time. But I was right next to him. I saw him playing Yu-Gi-Oh on some website on his phone under the table. One time we started talking about model cars and he pre-cummed.

- There was a boy who roamed the campus in a long black trench coat and a weird hat. I never saw his body and started to suspect he might not have one, just the theory of one. He took interest in me because I was the only person in class who ever got his Doctor Who jokes. He’d come up to me at dinner and blast quiz me on various nerd culture before running off and disappearing into the shadows. Just as I was starting to grudgingly accept I was probably going to have to eventually hook up with him for the greater good, I apparently offended him by saying I like Picard more than Kirk. He didn’t stick around to listen to my reasoning. Whenever I saw him after that he would loudly start talking about how great his girlfriend was. Everyone knew he was lying. I wonder if Kirk ever sucked his theoretical dick as well as I would have.

- I gave a football player a shout out on Yik Yak. He really appreciated it, and gave me some fries laced with weed as a thanks. That was such A Night ™ , I watched the Lorax and left the dimension.

- Every time we had dances, this creepy guy named Horace would find me and use my obvious discomfort to make me dance with him. He’d hold my wrists and shove his crotch on mine while vaguely swaying to the beat. I had to escape to the bathroom every few minutes. Finally the security just banned him from the events altogether. I can still see his face clearly in my mind.

- One night, I walked into the bathroom to find a perfect, untouched pizza laying on the floor…but not in a box. Someone literally just took it out of the box and laid it down. I’m still fuming.

- One time I was in the mostly empty library when I smelled something. I walked down the rows of shelves before rounding the corner, and found the President of the college hidden there, sitting on the floor, smoking, a bottle of vodka in his hands. We held eye contact for a solid minute. He slowly shook his head at me. I said “Sir, your house is like…literally across the street.” He shook his head more vigorously. I left the library.

- One night, I heard screaming. I looked out the window to find a girl in a giraffe costume scaling my building. People were throwing water bottles at her. I was concerned. I didn’t know who to talk to for answers.

- I was in line trying to pay for dinner. One of the lunch ladies climbed on top of the ice cream machine and refused to come down. Her friend came over and they started recreating the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet. Very few people acknowledged it.

- Someone jacked up the soda dispenser so it was only dispensing beer. None of the staff cared enough to fix it.

- I caught my RA in the middle of a drug deal so she gave me a coupon for free ice cream

- Also side note: The soft served ice cream machine on campus was actually a frozen yogurt machine. I had no problem with that, but like, advertise correctly, you know? Nobody else seemed to understand my confusion. Nobody else seemed to understand that froyo and ice cream are two different things. What the hell.

- There were just…so many moths all over the campus. A terrifying amount. When it started getting colder I was like, finally, I won’t be attacked by moths anymore! Only for even more moths to appear. I asked a local about it. “Oh, those are the winter moths!” What the fuck are winter moths? What the fuck, Massachusetts? My friend back home grew convinced that Mothman was in the area. I was inclined to believe her. Sometimes I close my eyes and all I can see are moths everywhere, waiting for the moment to strike.

-  I’ve encountered deer many times in my life. I know how they act around people. But the deer on this campus were just weird. They’d run out at people all the time. One almost shoved me into traffic.

- My roommate gave my phone number out to literally anyone she found who mentioned they liked to read or liked Doctor Who. She was concerned I had no friends. No one ever called.

- I met a small Greek girl in my Fine Arts class. Our first day of talking, she made me climb a mountain with her so she could get to tutoring, even though I had no reason to be in that building. Her roommates kept mysteriously disappearing. She was late to everything. She’d call me randomly to get food at 1 in the morning. She kept somehow breaking phones and tvs and other electronics. When I asked her how they kept breaking, she waved it off with “Oh, I have OCD. You wouldn’t understand”. I have OCD, and I still don’t understand. One time she invited me out with her friends from high school. I waited outside her building for two hours, while the other friends waited in the parking lot for two hours, because we didn’t know how to find each other. She eventually came outside at 10:30 pm. We went to Friendly’s. She made us stop at her house so she could grab something. We pulled up a long, winding driveway and stopped in a parking lot. At the end of the parking lot were stone stairs that lead up to a mansion on a hill. She ran inside and the rest of us stayed in the car, listening to High School Musical and talking about Supernatural. When she came out 40 minutes later we decided to try and prank her. It went wrong. We almost ran over her friend’s sister with the car. They invited me to a pumpkin patch. When I started complaining about my roommate, she asked me to move in with her. I thought about the other three girls who had seemingly gone missing. I politely declined. Six months after I left the school, I received a text from her asking for notes for an exam, and radio silence after that. I can’t find her on facebook. I fear she might have gone missing too.

- One night, as I was standing outside huddled in the cold, a boy came up and offered me a cigarette to help me stay warm. I turned it down, but he stood around talking to me for a few minutes afterwards. I felt absolutely no awkwardness at all. He was a musician from Colorado. He sang a bit of one of his songs. He was dropping out of school to go to California the next week. He told me I had beautiful eyes, but his were the most alive eyes I’ve ever seen so I couldn’t believe the compliment. We talked for about ten minutes and I fell a little bit in love. He had to rush off to a club meeting, but he told me he’d rather keep talking. He gave me the sweetest smile before he left. I didn’t get his last name or number and I never saw him again.

- There was a dance on Halloween. I couldn’t think of a sufficiently slutty yet classy costume, so I just went as Osgood from Doctor Who. When I got there there was a huge crowd, but people quickly grew bored and started leaving. There ended up being six people left (myself included). We stayed because we could see the upset faces of everyone who had planned the event, but actually had one of the most fun nights of my life. We- myself, the girl from across the hall, Trench Coat Boy, his tiny friend who never spoke, and a boy and girl I didn’t know who seemed to be professional dancers- danced nonstop for almost three hours. The strobe lights and poppy music solidified an unspoken bond. I had never and to this day haven’t felt as free as I did that night. The tiny quiet boy’s smile could have lit up a city. It’s etched into my mind. We all left the dance talking about the surreal feeling in the air, as if something had shifted. None of us ever mentioned the dance again. It’s still one of my fondest memories.

- For a solid month, there was someone in a gorilla costume running around campus.

- There was a rash of sexual assaults on campus. A gang of boys kept jumping girls in the woods. The only thing the school board did was give out free rape whistles at lunch one day. I missed that day, making me one of the only students on campus without a whistle. Later that night when I ordered pizza, the delivery guy tried to start up a conversation with me about all the assaults. He blamed the girls. I took back my tip.

- Sometimes the showers just…filled up with black sludge. No one knew why.

- The girls in the room next to me were very bizarre. They always shot me odd looks and whispered to each other constantly. I couldn’t figure out if they were sleeping together or not. They never washed their hands when we were in the bathroom.

- The doors to each dorm were thick and heavy and required effort to push them open. My roommate and I made sure to lock ours every night, and would triple check it. It swung open by itself almost every night. The channels on the tv would change with the remote equidistance away from us. Sometimes I heard humming in the showers when I was the only one in there.

- My roommate…deserves a whole separate post dedicated to her, honestly.

- She would call her mother and have her do her homework for her. She blasted music constantly, and it was either country or hard rap, nothing in between. She sexiled me constantly. I once walked in on anal. She’d meet guys on Tinder, fall in love with them after a couple of days, and then bring them into the school and into our room like it was no big deal. One of them made it clear he was a budding serial killer. She was in a new drama every week. One time someone called her a dilf on Yik Yak. She was firmly convinced her cousin was blonde because her aunt dyed her hair when she was pregnant. She tried her hardest to get me laid by a football player. She was the loudest drunk I’ve ever encountered. Honestly there’s just too much about her for this omfg

- John Zaffis, the famous paranormal researcher, came to the school on my birthday. I went because I’m a loser who’s been watching shows with him since I was a kid, and I was having a bad day so I decided it could be a treat. I sat in the front row. He held an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with me the entire presentation. He was impressed with my questions. He lamented about the fact he’s always cut out of movies or replaced by priests that look like him. He apparently came to the school every year around Halloween to do a ghost tour around the campus for the students. A girl allegedly killed herself in my floor’s bathroom. He apparently always got a lot of activity around the campus. Everyone in the freshman class started wondering if the rumors about the Native American burial ground were true.

- One time in “writing” class the teacher gave us a number and then whatever song came up as that when we put our music on shuffle we had to play for the class. I ended up with “Touch Me” from Spring Awakening. Midway through the song, the teacher from another class came to complain that they could hear everything. My teacher tried to defend that all music has an important message. “Molly, dear, tell her the message in this song!” I looked around the room and at the other teacher. “It’s about sex,” I said quietly. She stormed out of the room while the class started laughing.

- There was this girl that just had the natural ability to make anything boring. I feel bad saying that, because she’s such a sweet girl, and she’s smart, and she’s gorgeous, and she’s talented, but just…every time she says anything, it’s boring. I’m still friends with her on facebook, the talent transcends to writing as well. You could be having a fun, lively conversation and she could say something completely relevant to the point and yet it would still just be boring. It’s a baffling talent, I still don’t understand how she does it.

- There was a boy who’d come into my room. He lusted over my s’mores poptarts. He kept trying to hit the high notes in Broadway songs. He didn’t understand my sense of humor at all, so we both were constantly worried we were offending each other. He cried about Selena Gomez a lot.

- The dining hall only offered horrendous food. I had pasta almost every night because it was the only thing remotely edible. If you wanted good food, you had to go to Late Night, which was between like 10:30 and 1 I think??? They set it up specifically for stoners and people leaving parties. I was frequently the only sober person there. Except for the moths.

- The chief at the pasta place found out I like theater and got like…weirdly passionate about it. He kept telling me about different theater groups in the area and wanted to know if I was in the school musical. He asked me every time I went up for food.

- There was a disproportionate amount of large black birds to trees. It wasn’t hard to figure out why we so rarely saw smaller animals

- When I told my advisor I was thinking about leaving (mostly for financial reasons but also the fake classes were preventing me from getting an education I wanted, you know?), this little old man looked around his office as if checking for people listening in, then put his hand on top of mine, leaned in close, and whispered “Oh, you sweet little girl. Run as fast as you can.”

There’s definitely more but listen. This school was weird and fake and vaguely surreal and off-kilter. I am fully afraid that one day, years from now, I’m going to be driving through the back roads and pass the place where the campus should be, only I won’t find anything there at all, and won’t be able to find any trace of it ever existing. I won’t be able to find any record of it. I won’t be able to find a record of any of the people. Every time I think about this place I just get a weird feeling, like I somehow managed to escape the Twilight Zone but left a part of me behind in the process. Be careful when applying to college, kids.

[iamnotthedog]

ST. LOUIS: FALL 1999

Once I graduated from high school, I had been reading road books and travelogues pretty much exclusively for quite a while. After I read On the Road at Jim’s place, I caught the travel bug, and read Celine’s Journey to the End of the Night, Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Tom Wolfe’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Bashō’s Narrow Road to the Deep North and Other Travel Sketches, and Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, which came at the suggestion of Mrs. Frame, who really knew me better than just about anyone at the time. Those books all lit a fire under me, and I couldn’t wait to get out of Morrison and experience more of the world, as well as a whole new life out from under my parents’ roof.

I wanted to travel more than anything, but I was determined to go to college first, and I sort of ended up fucking that whole thing up, to be completely honest. I mean, it wasn’t bad or anything, it just isn’t what I should have been doing. I got accepted to a writing program at a private school called Webster University.1 Webster’s a nice school and all, I just say that I fucked up because of all the places in the world that I could have gone after finally getting out of Morrison, I ended up in a suburb of St. Louis, which isn’t exactly the most exciting place in the world. I mainly ended up there because I was lazy with the whole “preparing for college” thing, and I hadn’t even applied anywhere else.

All that aside, I was excited to meet some new people when I arrived at Webster for the first time—as most college freshmen are. But then my first roommate in the dorms at Webster was a total dick. His name was Brett or Brent, and he was one of the several people on my floor who had barely even put their suitcases down before they started complaining that Webster University was too small, and threatening to transfer to UMSL (“threatening,” as though any of us would actually care if they left), where they could live downtown and go to football games and frat parties and chug beer out of holes punched into the sides of cans and maybe even videotape themselves fucking somebody.

That wasn’t my scene. Sleepy Webster Groves with its narrow tree-lined streets and long-haired, grey-bearded writing professors was more up my alley. And after about a week in the dorms, I managed to find a few like-minded people to spend some time with. I met the friend I would eventually end up taking to California with me—John—and John’s roommate and lifelong companion (at least up to that point), Marc.

I was walking down the hall completely aimlessly one afternoon when I heard Bob Dylan crooning through a door that was open a crack, and I smelled incense, so I gave a little knock. John came to the door and peeped out at me with his red eyes, his long brown caveman hair and unshaven chin. He was wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt with a stretched out collar, and baggy sweatpants with a bunch of pockets on the legs. And he was barefoot. He looked at me skeptically, furrowing his brow. “Yes?” he said.

“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. “Uh...what’s going on?”

He opened the door a little wider. Marc was behind him, sitting on a futon with long red hair flowing down over his pale, shirtless torso and a fuckin’ three-foot tall glass bong in his lap. He lifted a lighter in a sort of wave.

“Nothing much,” John said. He kind of tilted his head to the side a little and looked into my eyes. He still looked skeptical.

I stuck a finger in the air in an attempt at pointing at the music playing, as people do. “Blonde on Blonde,” I said. I wasn’t exactly sure how to accomplish what I wanted to accomplish. Then I saw a couple guitars in the corner of the room, back behind Marc. “You guys play? I can play pretty much this whole album.”

That seemed to work, for whatever reason.

“C’mon in,” John said.

John and Marc lived in their own little hippie heaven there in the dorms. Their walls were plastered with tapestries and black light posters and pictures of Led Zeppelin and the Doors and Jimi Hendrix and the Grateful Dead. They always had incense burning and music on the stereo. They would sleep to some of the weirdest shit, too. If you walked by their room late any night—say you were stoned and wandering down the hallway to hit up the vending machines for a Snickers or whatever—you could often hear some Miles Davis piping out through their door. It was the weird Miles, too. Not Kind of Blue Miles, but Bitches Brew or sometimes even On the Corner Miles. Even being a huge Miles Davis fan, as I was at the time (and still am), I couldn’t understand how anyone could actually fall asleep to On the Corner.

After I started hanging out with John and Marc, I ended up spending a hell of a lot more time in their room then my own. The amount of drugs those two smoked was comical. They would literally wake up in the morning and smoke opium. Opium! At, like, nine o’clock in the goddamned morning. Then they would go back to sleep for a couple hours, wake up, and smoke some weed to start their day.

John and Marc were great for me, though—at least at the start—because they were from St. Louis. Born and raised. They were the first people to take me out on the town and show me around. They showed me where to buy my weed—which was actually pretty hilarious, because they got all their shit from a fat black dude named Q who worked in the drive-thru of a local Steak ‘n Shake—and they took me to see shows at the local venues, and they’d drive me out to Marc’s parents house in the outer ‘burbs, which was huge.2 We’d have parties out there whenever Marc’s parents were out of town, which was actually quite a bit because they were getting ready to move down south somewhere, and were always going down there to look at property.

The thing was, though, that after a while John and Marc’s circle of high school buddies that were always hanging around started to wear on me a little—I mentioned that earlier. They had all that history together—all those inside jokes and anecdotes and all that loyalty that seems really nice at first, but really ends up making people lazy and afraid of change after a while. I started to feel like I had actually never left high school myself. So I started seeking out other circles with which to insert myself. These guys who came around to Marc and John’s room every once in a while to score some weed were pretty laid back, and they lived on the floor above us. Their names were Phil and Isaac. Phil was a California boy who had grown up in Salinas, on the Pacific coast, which prompted all of us who had never travelled west and had our ultra-idealized fantasies of California in our heads to ask him why the hell he had come to the Midwest. (His mother worked for the university and got him a really good deal on tuition, or something like that). As for Isaac, he was a classic cinephile type, born and raised in St. Louis, and he resembled the Dude from The Big Lebowski—always stoned, always in sweatpants. He even drank White Russians almost exclusively.

Anyway, I started hanging out with Phil and Isaac more, and Phil and I totally hit it off. He needed a roommate, as his previous roommate was not unlike Brett or Brent—one of those jock types who decided that he needed to drop out of Webster and go to a school with a fraternity and more “loose chicks.” So I said sayonara to Brett or Brent, and I moved into Phil’s room.

Phil was a handsome kid with a neatly trimmed goatee, a friendly smile, and a southern California sense of style. He and I started cruising around together in his tricked out BMW with black lights under the dash, flashy rims, and a lowered suspension. I was at the height of my adolescent kleptomania at the time, and when I got off work at this little deli I had been rolling burritos for, Phil would pick me up and I’d go steal us a big bottle of good liquor from the local big-box grocery store down the street, Schnucks.3 We’d bring the bottle back to the dorms and have some drinks with a joint or two before hitting up some of the other kids on the floor, seeing if they wanted to go drive around and find some shit to get into.

It was around then that I met Leah.

Leah lived right down the hallway from Phil and I, along with her friend, Lilith. Lilith and Leah were both into a lot of the same music as I was, and they were down to party pretty much whenever Phil and I were. The first time Leah came around to my room alone, I was probably listening to some Bob Marley or something cliché like that and working on a paper for one of my classes, and she came in wearing this tight tube top without a bra. She totally took me off guard.

“Hey,” she said, leaning on the doorframe in the open door. I looked at her tube top, her pale, flat stomach, then quickly caught myself, shifting my gaze up to her eyes and smiling.

“What’s going on?” I stammered. “What...uh...what are you doing?”

I had already thought Leah was cool and everything—she was hyper smart, funny, and had great taste in music and books and all that—but after that entrance—after she stood right there next to me and leaned over me and asked about my paper, with her nipples in my face and her sweet breath surrounding me—well, after that she had my attention pretty much all the time. Then one night, we were alone in her room listening to records, and she asked me to give her a massage. She slipped my hand down between her legs and put her hand between mine, and then she got me up into her bed and unbuttoned my jeans and slipped off her shorts and took my virginity. Just like that. It took all of three minutes, tops. I made some excuse that she was way too good and that my last girl had been a dead fish, but in all honesty, I had never even come close to getting laid in high school. My high school experience, as I mentioned earlier, had been nothing but one long dry hump.

So after that night, Leah and I were pretty much attached at the hip for the next few weeks. She was all I needed, really. But we weren’t even one month into our relationship before the honeymoon ended—as they do—and things got real.

It turned out that Leah was clinically depressed. She managed to hide it from me for our first few weeks together, but then she just couldn’t do it any more. It started to show itself—mostly in her retreating to her room, turning the lights off, and refusing to come out for anything.

It always happened the same way. A couple weeks into the semester, Leah had moved out of the dorms to the university apartments where kids with rich parents could afford to live. I’d go over there and Leah would turn off the television. We’d sit on her couch and smoke a bowl. I’d put a record on. She’d walk to the kitchen, right there in the same room, and put on a pot of water for tea. Then she’d come back over to me, stripping some of her clothes off, and we’d mess around a little, go into her bedroom for a while, and then take a nap or shower. Then we’d be talking and thinking about going out and finding Phil or Lilith or something and she’d turn off. Like someone pulled a plug.

And those were the good nights. On the bad nights the plug would get pulled far earlier. Sometimes before I even got over to her apartment. Sometimes I’d be walking around the black asphalt parking lot on that white cement sidewalk around those neatly trimmed bushes by the hot tub that Phil and I used to break into after hours, and I’d be all excited to see my girl, and then I’d look up at her window and see that it was dark and the shades were drawn. After a while I learned to not even try knocking when that was the case. She’d be in her huge bed with her thick white down comforter up over her head, and she wouldn’t come to the door for anyone.

On those nights, I would get so down on everything that I would avoid everyone and leave campus altogether. I’d walk for hours down Big Bend Boulevard, through Richmond Heights, and sometimes all the way through Forest Park to the Central West End—a good twelve miles round trip. I would just walk and maybe smoke some weed, and I’d think of all those travel books and all my favorite characters, and I’d think about how as soon as I just couldn’t take school anymore—as soon as I started to get bored with everything—I’d just get up and leave. I thought about how I had to do that at some point—how I had to do it while I was still young, before the university life managed to scoop up whatever was left of my spirit and funnel me into the downward spiral of some sort of career pursuit or another. What was I in school for writing for, anyway? Screw being taught an art, I wanted to turn myself into art—make myself into the project I would work on for the rest of my life.

I would think about all that while walking and seeing the city at night—piece by piece, building by building—and I loved those walks, even if the part of the city I was walking through was just boring ol’ Richmond Heights. Back on campus, though, I have to admit that I’d always walk by Leah’s place before walking back to the dorms. Sometimes her light would be on, and I’d go over there and we’d run our whole routine, just a few hours later than usual. Other times, though, she wouldn’t even come to the door. And sadly enough, thinking back on all that now that I am more than a dozen years removed from the situation, that depression is still what I remember most about Leah—the way it would consume her, over and over again.

 Webster University is named after the place in which it resides—a mellow, inner-ring suburb of St. Louis called Webster Groves. It’s got a nice campus, with lots of old buildings and trees—some nuns founded it as a Catholic women’s college in 1915 before the first male students were admitted in 1962. ↩︎

 When Marc’s parents finally sold the house, they ended up selling it to some hot shot rookie for the St. Louis Cardinals. ↩︎

 When I say I was “at the height of my adolescent kleptomania,” what I mean is that it was pretty bad right around then. I would have never stolen from an individual person, or from a mom and pop sort of store, but big box department stores and grocery chains were like all-you-can-eat buffets to me. Nothing was off limits. I actually used to go into department stores in the mall or wherever and take like five t-shirts into the dressing room, put ‘em all on, then put my own shirt on over ‘em, cover up with a jacket or a hooded sweatshirt, and walk right the fuck out. I’d never have the balls to do that sort of thing nowadays. ↩︎

[harryburger]

Fic Tag-Game

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether). 

See if there are any patterns. 

The, tag your favorite authors

I was tagged by @kingotabek

I’m not sure who to tag......so if anyone writes fic and follows me you can say I tagged you.

Lies || Harry Styles (AU) - "London don't walk away from me!" Harry yelled as he tried to catch up to me.I continued to walk not wanting to look back and see how far away he was or even how close he might be. Anger continued to course through my veins, I never imagined he would do this type of thing. I thought he was my best friend. Why would he lie to me and not expect to get caught?

30 days - I place the blunt to my lips as I inhaled. The feeling was something that I was way too familiar with, I blew out the smoke as my body began to rejoice in the feeling. The party around me was in full swing, there wasn't one person who wasn't enjoying what was going on around them. I was in my own world, nothing was going wrong in my life and me sure as hell wasn't letting anything damper my mood right now. 

Betrayal // h. s. au - The sound of muffled voices surround me, i don't know what happened or even where I'm at. "Drive Louis! Drive!" Louis?  The sound of gun shots makes my head hurt more, the pounding sensation grows more and more as the sound gets closer.  The force of the car moving forward makes my head sling against the window.  I squeeze my eyes tight as the pain grows. 

The Life of Riley Stromberg || E3 & 1D - I stayed sitting on the couch as Lucas decided to go make some more popcorn, he has literally been at my side since Dad and Luke left for some sort of business work.  they were always leaving mom, Kory and i behind.  so having Lucas over helps me keep my mind off missing my older brother and my favorite person in the world, my uncle wes."popcorn my lady." Lucas spoke as he took his original seat beside me while handing me the bowl. i shook my head at his wording before smiling."you are such a dork sometimes."

The Break Up Plan // Jai Brooks -  There she was, Jess Taylor. I watched on admiring her. The way her eyes glistened as she walked down the hallway. Her beauty was mesmerizing. The way she laughed as she starred on. Her smile was the best thing to look at in the world, she had the best figure. Not to big not to small just perfect. I watched on as she kept getting closer. I couldn't help but smile. Her blue eyes shined bright, brighter then the bluest ocean. I couldn't help but look onto her. Her blonde hair sways as she still proceeds to make her way down the hallway. Watching her wrap her arms tightly around him. I stand back as he picks her up and swings around, her laugh is heard. My smile grows but soon fades as his lips meet hers.

A Dream Come True | Keaton Stromberg ||COMPLETED||  - I can't believe that today is the day I move to Cali with my two best friends. I barley had any sleep last night because all I kept thinking about was that Im finally going to leave this hell hole I call home. I was taken out of my thoughts by my mom knocking on my door."Morgan get up or you're going to miss your flight!""I'm up" I said loud enough for her to hear.As I started to get out the bed I realized that Im probably breaking her heart by leaving. I'm such a Momma's girl, definitely not a daddy's girl. I don't talk to my father but I do have a step dad and grandparents that's all I need in life right?

Disconnected || L.H. - She stayed seated in the grass as the cheers of the crowd as the baseball team yet again scores. Carly fought the urge to turn aroun and watch the game. She clutches her camera in her hands before raising it up and capturing yet another picture of the beautiful sunset that is placed in front of her. She smiles as she finally feels at peace. She snaps a few more angelic photos before grabbing her jacket from beside her. Standing back to her feet she notices him, his team mates congradualte him on yet another win. The cheering gets more loud as girls that waited on the stands finally got the chance to go to him. Everyone embracing him in a tight hug, Carly couldn help but laugh at their actions. Acting as if the boy is a star, or he played a amazing game. 

That Boy // l.p. ||COMPLETED|| - Emma Johns.A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Having all the guys drool over you was normal to her. But most guys had a chance with the girl of my dreams. I on the other hand just admired her from a far. Keeping her in my thoughts and dreams was the only I would ever get close to her. She was the head cheerleader and the only girl at Samuel's High who has a boy friend from America. All the girls wanted to be her friend, or know how she got a guy from America. Seeing her walk around laughing and smiling as I wished to be the cause of it. Just the sight of made my heart race. Knowing that her attention would never be focused on me, just the idea of her and me is comical.

Fake Boyfriend || Keaton Stromberg {Completed} - Your personality" His words keep playing over and over in my mind. I was fine if he would have told me he didn't like me like that but my personality. Seeing that my personality wasn't what he wanted in a girl broke my heart, I knew I wasn't good enough for him and that there was no chance of me an him being together but I never gave up. Liking a guy all through high school was just plain stupid. Everything he has ever said to me was lies, he told me everything I wanted to hear from someone. He never cared that's what kills me. Ever since those two words escaped his lips I haven't left my room or let along the house. 

The Nightmares That Follow A Dream || Keaton Stromberg \ COMPLETED| - Morgan had to make a decision to either stay in California with the love of her life Keaton and let something bad happen to him or leave it all behind to go live with a guy who will do anything to ruin her life. Morgan left Keaton and everyone behind to live with Scott it wasn't the best choice she made but she knew she made it for the right reasons. Scott has done everything to her from beating, raping, to almost killing Morgan. But what can she do and if she tried to leave she will get it worse then she already does. 

I’m No Good For You // H. S. - I stay focused in class as Mrs. Crawford begins to explain the assignment that we be explained to us in the next couple days as our partners will soon be named. I write down the notes that are needed for this assignment as how many paragraphs will be needed and when its due. Her words soon fade as she stops talking all together.I look up at her noticing her attention is focused on the back at the room. Knowing there is only one person she could be focused on and that has to be the arrogant Harry Styles. The only guy in school that can have any girl he wants and who is hated by everyone.

A Dream Boy || Keaton Stromberg - "Look at me Rowen" he says grabbing my face in his hands. "You're such a beautiful girl."I look up at into his green eyes, wishing and hoping that this will be the moment he finally kisses me. As he starts to lean in, i do the same waiting for the contact. "Rowen get up you have school!" I jump awake at the sound of my dad yelling at me. I blink my eyes, trying to contract the normal surroundings.  This makes a month i having these weird dreams of a light brown curly headed boy.  I never seen a boy like this, his facial features astonish me. 

Rejected // Wesley Stromberg -  "Annie one date?" I question "Wes no, I can't sorry" she says before walking off. Haven't I learned my lesson by now, that every time I ask her out she always says no. But I know that she cares about me, but why not give me a chance? I understand that we are best friends but she can go out with Drew who has been her neighbor since she was three. This is all so confusing. 

Living with the Cliffords || m.c. - I stay seated on the couch as Noah kept pulling at my hair. I could see the doubt laced in Cade's eyes as she looked to the twin girls playing in the floor."Michael i love you and all but-""Trust me i got this." I reassured her as gestured her to go.She looked towards Noah as has his hand stayed tightly in my hair before she turned towards the door, the smile on her face was not genuine.

Something About The Way She Looks - "Olivia get up or you will be late for school!" My mom yells from downstairs. I slowly roll over, not fully aware that I'm on the edge until I find myself laying on the floor."Fuck." I mutter to myself as I ease off the floor and stumble towards the bathroom to get ready to go to hell.. I mean school.I looked in the mirror to see a sight I sure was a natural thing for me, my hair was wildly everywhere. I try running my fingers through the mess in hopes to tame it down but as my fingers get stuck in the wild mess I know surely that wouldn't happen.

Sexting ✖ h.s - I stay looking at my phone wondering how in the hell I know all of these people or how their numbers ended up in my phone. I scroll down until one strikes my attention.Abby Shaw.God. How it has been so long since I talked to her. Last time I remember actually communication with her was when Jason pushed me into her and she looked at me wide eyed as her books stayed scattered on the floor. I mutter a quick apology before calling Jason a dick.

Innocent | a.i. - Today was the day I was moving across town, as my mother has acquired a new job. I wasn't so happy about this move as I would be leaving everything behind me that I have come accustom to. I remember the exact conversation my mother and stepfather conversed with me about this whole move. I was so against it. I wanted to stay.I believe I even brought the idea of living on my own or with some friends but my mother was so destined on me coming along. So here I am caring my last box to the car as the yelled for me to hurry. Taking a quick glance at the house I have so many fond memories in, I sigh before heading towards the running vehicle.