normaltothemax - Tumblr blog

[normaltothemax]

writing has been very hard today and i have done very little

not sure how much i'll get done tomorrow either, bc i might have to work, but i won't actually know for sure until the morning

[normaltothemax]

but here we are verse aesthetic ft jason todd & dean winchester

Waning, fading innocence I gave you my heart, but here we are Saved you my heart, but here we are Oh, oh But here we are Wait, patience, patience Are you ready now? Pain, severance, reverence Arm in arm we are forever But Here We Are - Foo Fighters

jason todd written by @normaltothemax & dean winchester written by @therebetterbepie

[normaltothemax]

“I’m glad you did,” he told her honestly. For more than one reason. Not the least of which being: “I remember what it was like, being stuck out in a storm. It can be hard to find a decent, relatively safe dry spot. Especially in the Alley. And then you get sick because you’ve been sitting out in the cold, soaking wet, and it’s even harder to keep yourself safe and get the stuff that you need for the next week or so.”

He shrugged. Jason slept better at night knowing that the kids at least had a safe place they could stay, if they so chose. Not everyone would take him up on it, he knew a lot of them were still wary, or too independent, even hearing his reputation from the other kids, but they at least knew it was an option. That was as good as he could hope for.

With Alice on the bike behind him, Jason drove carefully through the streets. He followed the speed limit, didn’t weave between cars or take any crazy turns like he normally might. There were plenty of chances for him to drive like a maniac when he didn’t have a child for a passenger.

It wasn’t long before they made it to the warehouse. Jason held a hand out to help Alice off the bike, but didn’t touch her beyond that. He grinned at Lisa when she ran up, though she couldn’t see it behind his helmet, and ruffled her hair, just to hear her squawk. “Heya, Carrot-Top,” he teased, before taking her by the hand and leading Alice into the warehouse, greeting the other kids by name as they went.

A bit of tension seemed to be easing out of Alice’s shoulders as she took in the warehouse. Good. That was good. Jason wanted her to feel comfortable. He wanted her to feel safe.

That would come in time.

“We’ll have to find you one that’s open. Some of the kids here can get a little possessive over their spots. Wouldn’t want you making yourself comfortable somewhere we think is free, only to have someone show up later wanting to fight you for it.” His tone was light, but it was still a bit of a concern. He looked around for a moment, before spotting someone and raising his voice. “Hey, Alex!”

One of the older kids (about thirteen) broke away from a small group and jogged over, flashing Jason a toothy grin before looking over at Alice curiously. “Fresh meat?” he asked, smirking.

“Be nice,” Jason chided. “This is Alice. Alice, this is Alex. You ever have any questions or concerns and I’m not here, you can talk to him. He’s also got my number, in case anything happens. Alex, can you help Alice here find an open space?”

Shaggy hair flopped into his face as Alex nodded. “Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you where you can get set up. The Anderson sisters like these spots—if you like your hair, you won’t put your stuff here.”

A childish giggle escaped her before she could swallow it as Red Hood bowed back. She was careful to mentally note that she could apparently stay as long as she wanted, as often as she wanted. No catch. Which immediately had her on guard. Everything had a catch. Yes, including the sealed water bottles and food bars that definitely hadn't been tampered with as far as she could tell and she turned them all over as carefully as possible.

Nothing of note. Didn't mean there wasn't *anything.* But they were stashed away in her ratty little backpack for now.

"No I haven't." Avoiding motorbike was usually a good idea. You could never quite tell just what kind of person you would get with bike riders. Most were okay but there were enough sketchy ones that it was better just to stay on alert and avoid all of them altogether. "And strictly speaking, I shouldn't have approached in the first place. But people talk about your reputation and I'd rather not get soaked."

If anything bad happened to her, well at least she would be dry. She hoisted herself up onto the bike seat and sat as cofmortably as she could. She was quite obviously not used to sitting on any kind of saddle and awkwardly trying to rearrange the skirt of her dress to cover everything. But she held on tight throughout the journey, taking the time to stretch and scowl when they reached the warehouse. A big place, several other children of varying ages, a little redhead ran to Hood almost immediately.

High ceiling. No holes in the roof. Plenty of food to go around, plenty of sleeping bags and blankets, some had little lights and there were towels and heating units. Alright. An actual safe place for street kids. Hood's reputation was honestly earned.

"Do I just... pick a space?"

[normaltothemax]

Gonna have to call the humane society for Mika probably tomorrow :(

[normaltothemax]

“Let’s go take a look, then.” He snatches up a crowbar from the ground next to one of the fallen goons; Jason can already see wooden crates inside the open shipping container, and only one of them has on a suit of armour that can probably rip the tops off like yogurt lids. Whistling a jaunty tune (which probably sounds pretty weird, filtered through his voice modulator), he gives the goon one last kick with his steel-toe, before making his way over to the crates. Despite his body language being laid-back and unconcerned, he’s still paying sharp attention to his surroundings on the off chance that he missed someone.

Or that Iron Man decides to change his mind about him.

“Red Hood.” He doesn’t bother offering an explanation beyond that. What would he even say? I chose an old alias of the psychopath who killed me to get his attention in a ploy to make my estranged father kill him to avenge me? Unlikely.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” Fitting the crowbar under the lid, he pries it up and off, revealing some gorgeous looking guns with glowing purple components nestled in straw. He whistles under his breath, sets the crowbar down so he can lift one of the weapons up to get a better look at it. “Alien weaponry it is. Damn. What a beauty.” Looks like some sort of augmented sniper rifle. He’s got no idea what it does, but he would love to find out. Unfortunately, he’s got a feeling that Stark won’t approve of him playing around with it.

But honestly, when has disapproval ever stopped him before?

He points it at the wall, finger resting beside the trigger as he looks through the scope. “Wonder what part the purple stuff plays. You think it shoots energy blasts instead of bullets? I’m betting on energy blasts.” There’s a lot of purple where the magazine would normally be, so he figures it’s probably a pretty safe bet.

Tony tries not to pay too much attention to the carnage surrounding the young man, after all in their line of work it unfortunately tended to happen more often than not. The Iron Man had wounded his fair share of shady characters, hell he'd killed some too but it was what had to happen at times. The repulsors on the suits hands and feet help him hover above the ground before he finally lands and walks over to see what the mysterious figure is talking about.

"You're damn right I want to see what's in it." If it was alien tech there was no doubt that they had to lock it somewhere safe and secure, keeping it out of the wrong hands was essential to keeping civilians safe. Hopefully this new guy wasn't going to be another person he'd had to fight for them, that would go horribly for this new lone vigilante.

"So what do they call you? The Crimson Horror? Red Skull?" The names these new heroes were picking out were never the most creative names in the world, but suppose Iron Man wasn't fantastic either so who was he to talk?

[normaltothemax]

“Fighting your soul is how you wake up, or coffee is?” Jesus Christ, what even is this conversation? Usually, when Max doesn’t understand him, it’s because Bruce is going off about some smart people thing, not because he’s spouting nonsense. She doesn’t even dignify the head pat with a response (aside from swatting at his hand, of course). “When’s the last time you actually slept? Like, more than four hours straight?”

He gives Max a pat on the head as he practically swallows his mug full of coffee like a shot.

" Because that's how you wake up. "

[normaltothemax]

Clint was positive there was more to Tony than just what he let people see. (He found this to be true about most people, in fact.) More to him than Natasha’s findings for the Avengers initiative: Iron Man, yes; Tony Stark, not recommended. Tony was Iron Man. They were literally the same person. You couldn’t separate them, couldn’t have one without the other.

Tony might portray himself to be flippant and uncaring of what everyone around him thought—and maybe he was, maybe Clint wasn’t as good at reading people as he thought (though that thought alone had him internally rolling his eyes)—but Clint didn’t think that was all there was to him.

Case in point: taking Clint down to his workshop to fix his hearing aids, not wanting anything else in return.

Case in point: learning sign language just because he’d found out Clint was deaf.

Case in point: promising Clint new arrows without Clint ever even asking.

<Making me new toys? Careful there, Stark. Keep spoiling me like that and you’re going to ruin me for all other men.>

That stare caught Tony off guard, the urge to look away as if Clint was peering in his soul was strong, but Tony ever the man to lead with the mask, kept his lips set to a small smirk of nonchalance.

A beat later and Clint relented, giving Tony the chance to ease the tightness from his chest. He was happy the other seemed genuinely accepting of his practiced sign language rather than insulted.

<Of course. Where else would I be able to show off my new tech. You think your arrows are good now, just you wait>

The tower was an open book to the Avengers, SHIELD spies and the like. It would take a little more trust to get an invitation in his home but Tony wanted to make sure everyone on the team was comfortable here.

[normaltothemax]

@ironifiicd from here

Jason doesn’t answer that. He’d done his research, when he’d first arrived. Iron Man, aka Tony Stark (seriously, had these people never heard of secret identities before?), was an Avenger. A part of this world’s version of the Justice League. Can Jason really be blamed for thinking the guy might not be all that happy to see a new, gun-happy vigilante on the scene? Especially when he’d been found surrounded by bodies.

(Jason’s pretty sure none of them are dead, but he’s definitely blown out several knees, blown off a number of trigger fingers, and sliced the Achilles tendons of one man who’d really pissed him off. There is a lot of blood, and only a couple of people are still conscious enough to still be groaning. None of them are walking out of here on their own; he’s zip tied them all anyways, just in case.)

At least they don’t know about the duffle bag incident here. That counts in his favour, he supposes.

Gaze assessing, Jason stares at the man for another few moments from behind his helmet—and thank god he’d been spat out here in his Red Hood uniform, he isn’t sure what he would’ve done if he’d arrived in civvies—before shrugging. Fuck it. “Some kind of smuggling ring,” he offers. Might as well play nice with the locals, right? “Word on the street’s been varying between humans and alien weaponry. I was just about to go unload the cargo, see what’s what, if you’re curious.”

[normaltothemax]

No, it was not funny. Max was not having fun. She knew she was pouting, wallowing a little in her own misery, but she couldn’t help it! The guy was asking her how into his sex life she was, how the fuck was she supposed to answer that? And yeah, she didn’t doubt that it was probably more awkward for him, but he wasn’t the one currently getting made fun of so he could go suck a lemon. She narrowed her eyes at him, still half hidden behind her hands. Was he going to flip this around somehow just to tease her even more? “Fanfiction?” she asked warily. Max couldn’t think of how this could be used against her—she’d only just recently heard about the books, and from him, too; she hadn’t known about any fanfiction until now—but she decided to still tread carefully, just in case. “You know, saying it like that implies you’ve read some of it. Do you read fanfiction of your own life? Because that’s weird as shit, dude. Definitely narcissistic. Maybe even masochistic, depending on how bad it is.”

---when she finally got that he was banned dean couldn't help but fully laugh. okay, so maybe he was enjoying this a little too much. but hey, it was his sex life there in black and white, right? if anyone deserved to turn the tables it was him. he made no moves to actually leave the store or even stop reclining on the counter. "you know that was funny," he chuckled to show her there were no hard feelings. besides, when it came down to it he still had a job to do and chances were the thing he needed to finish this job was in this shop. he could be a dick, but he was mostly just teasing in a friendly sort of way. it was how he connected with people. "trust me, it's way more awkward for me. you know people have written fanfiction too? that shit goes way harder than that. sometimes i think the internet was a mistake."

[normaltothemax]

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he chuckled. “I mean, where else are you gonna find a bad guy calling himself Condiment King?” Jason was well aware that Gotham was a weird-ass city, her people even stranger. The capes and cowls brought all sorts of crazies out of the woodwork, and it seemed like every week there was a fresh face with a new shtick causing a scene.

He shrugged. “Maybe, if I’m in the mood and I’m not actually with either of those two assholes. It’d only go to their heads. Can’t have them thinking I actually like them.” He did and they knew it. After all, you could only hang out with a person so many times before it became obvious that you didn’t hate their guts. And he’d mostly gotten over the urge to lone wolf his entire life, anyways. Being by himself all the time was overrated.

It was less lonely, having people in his life. Who would’ve thought?

Dick had gotten Jason mostly used to casual touch again, after he’d come back, but this was something different. Warmth bloomed out from beneath Dean’s hand on his back. It didn’t matter that it was through his jacket, that he wasn’t actually feeling skin on skin (yet, whispered an excited little voice in his mind). Dean was touching him and Jason was forced to suppress the giddy grin that threatened to appear. He didn’t want to seem too eager. He wanted to seem cool.

Stepping up to the counter with Dean, Jason ordered them a couple of Batburgers with Jokerized fries and a couple of drinks, after finding out what Dean liked, to go. He paid cash before Dean could reach for his wallet, and stuffed a twenty into the tip jar. It didn’t take long for them to get their food, and then Jason was leading them back to his bike. “So, uh, where I’m thinking is a bit of a tight fit for a car. Might be best to leave it here. I’ve got this…well, it’s like spray paint, but I’ve got a solvent for it, so it’s not actually permanent or anything. But, essentially, if I tag it, no one will mess with your car while we’re gone. If you want.”

--- in no time dean was already becoming addicted to making him smile. he'd love to see it without the mask, but he supposed he'd only just met him today, he'd have to be a little more patient. it was just kind of sweet and in dean's life he didn't get that sweetness often. it was hard not to be drawn to him when that was the reaction he got just from showing up. "i'm starting to get the feeling that gotham is the weirdest out of these uh, superhero cities," he commented for lack of a better word.

they hung back so dean could take a look at the menu and as he read it was clear he was getting more and more amused with each menu item. "you mean you don't go for the robin nuggets? or the night wings?" he chuckled but he did seem interested in the recommendations being directed his way. dean did love a good burger and fries after all. they were the main staple of his diet and how he judged most places he stayed. if they didn't have a good burger, dean didn't want to stick around.

"hey when in gotham, i guess?" he laughed and shrugged. the whole fry seasoning sounded weird as hell but if it tasted good that was all that mattered. he'd give anything a try once anyway. besides, for once he wasn't that concerned about dinner. he was much more concerned about the company that came with it. "i'll go with whatever you suggest. i love burgers and fries so i'm sure it'll be great."

dean could see the hint of a smile on his face when he brought up the kids meal and even though it was a joke he was actually tempted. he thought it would be hilarious to end up with a little red hood and before he left gotham he was going to make a point to get one. "maybe next time," he laughed and then nodded towards the menu. his hand found the small of the vigilante's back as if to guide him towards the counter. "ready to order and then get out of here?"

[normaltothemax]

He wasn’t going away.

No, instead of doing what Phee had hoped he would, the robot man came closer to the tree she was using as a hiding place. He spoke to her. He…didn’t sound much like a robot, come to think of it. Rather, he sounded like a regular human person. How strange. Phee wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than sounding like a robot.

Whatever the case, he wasn’t leaving and Phee didn’t know what to do. Did she stay where she was in the hopes that he would get tired and leave eventually? Did she try running and hope he didn’t come after her? Or did she gather what little courage she had and come out and face him? Chewing on her lip, she stayed where she was, stayed quiet, for a little bit longer, just in case.

When that still didn’t have the desired effect, she spun carefully around so that her front was pressed against the tree trunk, fingers digging into the bark. Carefully, cautiously, she poked her head out to peer warily at him. The instant her eyes landed on him, she blinked in surprise, wings twitching with a suppressed curiosity that had her half wanting to get closer to inspect the strange being in front of her. “You have a human face,” she whispered after a moment of staring.

The shouts of people as they combed through the forest caught his attention, but not as much as the panicked cries of the little girl they were after. He didn't know what they were after but it didn't matter.

With calculated precision, darts flew from the gauntlets, dropping the mercenaries like flies. He drifted down through the trees, peering curiously at the little girl as her wings glistened like a rainbow against the sunshine.

Tony pulled his faceplate up, taking in the fresh air all around him before kneeling down in front of the tree she hid behind. "Hey kid, you gonna stay behind that tree all day?" he asked, his voice light and melodic as he smiled softly.

[normaltothemax]

“He’s not my fucking brother!” he snapped. The more Dean said that stupid fucking word, the more it grated on Jason, to the point where his eyes started faintly glowing. Dean didn’t have a fucking clue what he was talking about. He didn’t know how Dick had treated Jason all those years ago, back when all he’d wanted was to have a big brother. When all he’d tried to do was live up to Dick. When he’d only ever managed to live in the man’s shadow.

He could see that his words were hurting Dick, too. Good, said a small, vicious part of him. Maybe Dick would end up feeling as small as he’d made Jason feel, back then. It was only fair, after all. “He never wanted to be my brother, when I was alive. He made that real fucking clear. So fuck that. He doesn’t get to pretend to be one just because I died.” He turned his glare on Dick, jabbed a finger at him. “You don’t get to do that.”

The worst part of it all was that years old hurt bubbling back up to the surface. The hurt feelings of a stupid kid who’d been looked down upon by someone he’d only ever looked up to. It was stupid and childish and Jason was over it, goddammit! He wasn’t falling back into that damn trap. Wasn’t going to let all the things he’d wanted to hear as a kid lull him into a false sense of security now.

It was too little, too late. Too fucking bad, Dickhead.

“Fuck your sorry.” Dick could shove his ‘sorry’ right up his ass. That awful, cruel part of him was glad to see just how badly Dick was effected by this. He wanted Dick to hurt, wanted him to suffer, to see exactly where he’d gone wrong and know he could never go back and fix it. Dick was upset and hurting and Jason was glad.

So why did he still feel so hollow?

Instead of reflecting on that, he turned back to Dean, baring his teeth. “There. He knows I’m back. Congratulations on a job well done, Dean,” he sneered. “Now stay the fuck out of it.” Jason, once again, turned to leave. He needed to go…somewhere. Needed to hit something. Needed to scream and shout and bloody his knuckles. He just needed out.

@therebetterbepie

--- seeing the way jason's brother reacted to the possibility of him being back sold this as being the right choice to dean. he knew he was on thin ice with jason. he knew he was going to be pissed at him for this for probably awhile, but dean knew what it was like to be on the other side of this too.

he could see the pain in the other man's face. dean didn't know what sort of relationship the two had, sure, but he knew what kind that particular kind of gut punch felt like. his brother had pulled the exact same bullshit. jason knew that dean had died and come back but dean had never gone into the details of sam's deaths. it wasn't exactly his favorite subject.

he almost rolled his eyes watching him point his finger at the other man. how could he deny it now? sure, jason had died but that didn't mean he wasn't currently living and breathing right in front of him. if this had been dean's brother he probably would have punched him.

"oh, so what, you're just going to run away? i know it's not a game, jason." he did his best to keep his voice even but this was hitting home for him. "been to hell, didn't really care for it. but you know what i did when i came back? told my fucking brother." the reply came smoothly without heat but perhaps a little touch of danger behind dean's eye.

"this is bullshit, kid. my brother did the exact same thing to me. i went a year without knowing my brother was back. he came back and didn't tell me and it fucked me up. you don't want to have a relationship with him, fine whatever, but it's fucking wrong to let people mourn you when you're running around breathing."

he was tempted to shove jason towards his brother again, but dean had the sense to think twice. he knew jason was about ready to explode and it would be so much easier for him to have a physical fight than deal with the hard things that were happening right now.

"talk to your brother," he pointed towards the man. "or i'll kick your ass."

@dramatisperscnae

[normaltothemax]

[James Dean]: So are you ;) [James Dean]: Guess one of us is just better at this whole stakeout thing than the other :P [James Dean]: Rude [James Dean]: I'll tell you every time I see you for as long as you want [James Dean]: It's a date then [James Dean]: Of course you do, I'm a goddamn delight

[pretty boy is typing...] [pretty boy is typing...]

[James Dean]: Fuck it [James Dean]: I never smile as much as I do when I'm with you so yeah [James Dean]: I like spending time with you too [James Dean]: Dork.

[pretty boy]: i'd be distracted. you're hot as hell. [pretty boy]: oh see i don't want to tell you because i'm afraid you'd stop haha [pretty boy]: gonna need you to tell me that again when i get there. [pretty boy]: i'd like that. really. [pretty boy]: is is sweet talking if it's all true? [pretty boy]: hahah i just like spending time with you. doesn't matter what we're doing.

[normaltothemax]

Something was very strange about the man delivering the water jugs, and it wasn’t just the fact that Archie was certain that the delivery people didn’t actually install the water jugs in the coolers, let alone check which ones were running low.

There was also the device that he had with him. A little handheld thing that let off a high-pitched whine at random intervals. It was incredibly distracting.

Stranger still, Archie seemed to be the only one to pay it any mind. It led him to believe that he wasn’t supposed to be able to hear it. That it was at a frequency regular humans wouldn’t be able to detect.

Either that, or this was a regular occurrence for this particular legal office. (That didn’t seem likely.)

So, after the first several times, Archie tried to ignore it, but every time the thing screeched, he couldn’t help but look up, as if his body was automatically trying to search out the source of the awful sound. The damned thing was like nails on a chalkboard. Still, he tried to act unaffected.

Apparently, he wasn’t a very good actor.

He flinched at the voice, suddenly right there. Tried not to grimace or hunch in on himself as he looked sheepishly up from his tablet. Back straight, shoulders back, Archibald. Don’t slouch. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to…distract you from your work.” Not that he was entirely certain the man was actually doing what he said he was here to do. His head tilted to the side, curious. “Do you mind if I ask, what is it, exactly, that you’re doing?”

a smallish starter for @normaltothemax

---dean had been doing this for a long time. when he was 8 his dad had taken him out on his first hunt. he had trained him to spot things others didn't look for, or couldn't see. it was engrained into his dna at this point to be aware of the strange and unusual.

but sometimes shit still caught him off guard.

he was scanning a small office building with his EMF sweeper, posing as a water delivery guy and every time the device got hot and detected activity it emitted a high pitched whine that was not noticeable by most humans.

which was why it was very odd to dean that this guy kept turning and looking at him from across the office every time the sweeper went off.

he'd delivered the water a bit ago and made up a lame excuse about checking the other coolers - most people didn't pay him any mind - but it seemed not everyone was buying the story he was selling. and dean wasn't buying that this guy was exactly normal either.

"can i help you?" he asked trying to appear as casual as possible. he didn't want to draw attention after all.

[normaltothemax]

[James Dean]: There's nothing to buy, it's the truth [James Dean]: How do I act? [James Dean]: I always want you [James Dean]: Maybe I'll read you some Dickinson then [James Dean]: She's no Jane Austen but she's pretty awesome [James Dean]: Maybe a little ;) [James Dean]: Now who's doing the sweet talking?

[pretty boy]: mmhum. not really buying it babe. [pretty boy]: you don't have to beg with words. i just love how you act when you really want me. [pretty boy]: hey just because i don't absorb books like you do doesn't mean i can't get down to poetry. [pretty boy]: and you got a nice voice [pretty boy]: you sweet talking me?

[normaltothemax]

[James Dean]: Distracted? Me? Never [James Dean]: What, you gonna want me to beg for it? Not to doubt your skill or anything, but I've literally never begged for a thing in my life [James Dean]: You want to listen to poetry while you fix her up? Really? Ngl, that doesn't seem like your kind of thing [James Dean]: I'll have to make sure someone can cover my territory, but yeah, that'd be awesome [James Dean]: The most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen. I don't think there's ever been a prettier color. I could get lost in those eyes for days at a time

[pretty boy]: you getting distracted big bad red hood? [pretty boy]: maybe that's it ;) you do sound pretty when you want more... [pretty boy]: haha how about you read me some frost while i turn some wrenches. [pretty boy]: hey you wanna go on a road trip to meet bobby i'd be down. just say the word. [pretty boy]: hell yeah i am. now tell me i got gorgeous eyes.

[normaltothemax]

[pretty boy is typing...] [pretty boy is typing...] [pretty boy is typing...]

[James Dean]: Shit, alright, you're gonna take your time with me, huh? [James Dean]: Then what? [James Dean]: Good literature is my Impala. We're platonic soulmates [James Dean]: Excuses, excuses [James Dean]: Well, you ARE very pretty...

[pretty boy]: that's the idea, sweetheart. [pretty boy]: i do if i have you panting and squirming under me. [pretty boy]: hey i know you're into me but i'm also not gonna pretend you're not really into books hahaha [pretty boy]: cause bobby lives pretty far out of gotham babe [pretty boy]: haha just the books. i'm much prettier than him. ;)