siddyyyyyyyy

[siddyyyyyyyy]

AAAAAAAAA

Aches and Needed Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: Jason fails to communicate that he will be gone for days. In the midst of not knowing where he is, the day he finally comes home is the day you decide to make the vigilante wait outside the window.

A/N: writers block is taking me away, but I am fighting the battle (T-T) this took days but I did not give up 💐

Word Count: 2.7k

Nicknames are reserved for familiar faces, loved ones, or someone close.

They’re special.

But none of those are being used right now.

“Jason Peter Todd-Wayne.” You clenched your teeth to the man that clearly disappeared without notice.

It sure as hell wasn’t the time.

—

You kept the window open, sliding the seal up and wide enough to be the width of two of your fingers.

It allowed your voice to resonate past the walls of your apartment onto the emergency fire escape, the landing spot of the vigilante that still hadn’t come home.

The peak of your anger had passed, letting a slow calm irritation simmer in the air as you looked passed the glass into the very early morning air.

It was still dark out, the streets quiet enough beyond a few cars driving through puddles of water left from the night rain. Streetlights brought in the only warmth to your eyes.

The day was passing over into the morning, night-shift workers exchanging into the morning staff.

You had stood throughout majority of the night, angrily cleaning into the hours.

Scrubbing, disinfecting, glossing.

Nothing was safe from the gloves on your fingers and the spray bottle that was getting its use in.

When the chores were all completed, you placed a chair that neatly faced the window, not more than a couple paces from the clean glass that you wiped earlier in the night.

You held a cup, laid a book in your lap, and waited.

Reading one line at a time, taking a sip to leisurely let the calm breaths fill the air.

Turning one page, listening to the endless cars drive below, taking another sip.

Clack.

“Don’t you dare touch that window.” You barely looked away from the page in your hand.

The leather hand paused to your voice, shifting slowly down to rest on his kneeling legs.

“…Sorry.” Jason hesitated, keeping himself on the grate floor outside your apartment.

You stopped halfway through turning the next page, hesitating enough that Jason tilted his head to your minimal movements. You fought the urge to look up, feeling your slight embarrassment to your anger now that the man was just outside your window.

You finally turned the page completely.

“We had an agreement.” You took a sip.

Things had already gotten to this point and you were not patient enough to let Jason avoid you completely through this conversation.

“I know, the time got away from me, B pinged me when I was juggling everything else—“ He rambled on, letting the modulator soothe out the breaks in his voice.

“I am completely understanding of the vigilante side, we had many conversations about that before we even started dating.” You closed the book, placing it on the small side table near you. “We agreed that you would at least text me the code word we decided on. The ‘no questions asked’ rule.”

Jason hunched forward from the guilt and exhaustion that seemed to pile heavier on his shoulders when he came to see you after patrol. Like his own body unconsciously relaxes when he sees you.

At this very moment, it was betraying him.

“My phone died.” Jason promised through his helmet, pulling out his phone with the darkened screen. He was fucking exhausted, but he would tape his eyes open if he had to because he knew this time, he had to face this—you.

“For three days?” You stared back at him.

“Yes?” Jason breathed out. Nothing he said was helping his case, he knew it wouldn’t help because he broke the rule you asked him to respect.

But his words weren’t coming out the way he wanted and it didn’t help that he had three days’ worth of exhaustion piled on him.

You leaned your head into your palm, closing your eyes as you rubbed them.

Jason let the sensors in his helmet focus on your figure. The motion recognition locked onto your movement and the facial recognition was loading.

It highlighted your identity details. Name, height, blank criminal record.

Jason could mentally see the stern look from Cass about her detailed lessons on facial and body language recognition. Mentally, he knew if she were standing here, her lethally trained eyes would be locked onto him at the state you are currently sitting in.

Drowsy eyes, exhausted posture, and a very clear indication of a long-term messy appearance.

He felt worse.

“Jason—“ You sighed.

“Please don’t call me that.” He had enough sway in his voice to make your eyes glance back up at him.

You couldn’t see his face past the red sheen, but you knew he didn’t like the small boundary you were putting up. It was insignificant now, but he was reluctant to figure out where it might lead to.

“…Jay, you don’t have to explain what you did or went, but no code word makes me assume the worst and what makes me angry is finding out from another person that you did have a reason but chose to actively tell everyone except me.”

“Not everyone knew.”

“The damn security of the apartment asked if everything was alright when he said you stormed off after nearly knocking into him.”

“That was a coincidence.”

“I found out yesterday. More than two days after you left from here.”

“Well—”

“From Tim.”

“I knew I should’ve watched the bastard.” He said under his breath.

“He didn’t do anything wrong and he came for the HDMI cord that I borrowed. It slipped out that you guys returned yesterday and he still came to see me—for a cord.”

Jason tried to think through that one, but any of his comments were going to heighten your anger and he was feeling his knees start to ache from his kneeling position. In one breath, he glanced behind him, into the sky brightening enough to indicate that the sunrise was going to begin soon.

The streetlights slowly turned off one by one.

“I’ll explain, but I need to come inside. Staying out here is…dangerous.” Jason reasoned, swiveling his head back to see you still sitting on your chair, looking at him through the same glass that kept you two separated. “…We should have a meal.”

Your eyes widened at hearing the second rule the two of you agreed on.

His exhausted voice, the strain in his shoulders, the slight tap from his fingers on the glass. All the frustration you had from the night nearly vanished when you realized that all this was silly. The separation, the chair, and the way the entire situation was turning out.

This was the only rule that Jason asked for: “We should have a meal.” It wasn’t a special phrase. The tone and intonation of your voice was what made it specific and hard to miss. But the rule was simple: that no matter how angry the two of you were, the issue wouldn’t go unresolved.

It was versatile. Very situational based, but had the same intention, nonetheless. It could indicate a sort of time-out or a small plead to a minimal and needed break, but with the promise of coming back to the issue.

You agreed that for any person involved in an argument, things shouldn’t go unspoken and forcibly live with building tension. It made you feel more secure with the idea of your relationship with Jason and his vigilante identity.

After months of getting used to the demands of your relationship, you picked up on how much Jason relied on this rule, the built-in insecurity that was rooted in his own fear of his destructive behaviors and the strained relationships with his friends and family.

That he put you on some sort of higher pedestal. Maybe it was because of your civilian status or the fact that you were the closest thing to “normal” he had going for him, but he was very serious of the rule.

“Okay, you’re right.” You got up to shift the window open.

Once you stepped back and Jason had fully climbed into the apartment, you adjusted the latch and dropped the blinds. The small, exhausted tension was still there, settling into the air, but once you looked up to see Jason release the heavy red helmet from his head, you couldn’t help but breathe a little more.

He was home.

Jason met your eyes. He had some new bruises that joined the ones that were almost healed.

You nearly reached out, almost let a finger lift from your side, but you turned.

“I have a plate in the fridge, it’s nothing too special for today. I already ate, but I have some fruit I can cut and—”

Jason reached for the back of your arm, his entire hand wrapping around your forearm before he let his forehead hit your shoulder.

“We should sit down for a moment, I’ll heat the food later.” Jason said with little urgency. He only felt desperate to rest his body on the soft cushions of the sofa and hopefully with you next to him.

“Okay, but you need to take your shoes off.”

Within moments, you were following him to the couch, letting the cushions dip to the weight of Jason sitting. He didn’t fully relax, his back was still stiff as you helped to remove his utility belt, gloves, and the domino mask from his face.

Each with comfortable familiarity to help decompress Jason from patrol. A careful routine that didn’t shake him from transitioning back into domestic life.

This moment felt a little awkward. Usually, you were careful not to scare Jason, but now it felt like he was trying everything in his power to not scare you away from him.

As you knelt in front of the wary man, you loosened his additional storage belts that wrapped around his legs. Taking them down his leg one by one, until his bare pants were left.

In that moment, you allowed yourself one glance.

You wandered your eyes up to the man hunched over your body close to the ground. He was tired and worried. Much too worried for your liking that you had to reach your hand past his drooping hair to touch the skin that was slightly rubbed by the night, outlining his mask and the bruises darkening sections of his skin.

“I’ll get you a washcloth.” You moved your hand away, ready to lift yourself to move to the bathroom.

“Stay, I just need…just stay.” Jason steadied his eyes to you, fearful of blinking too fast if you left his sight.

“Alright. At least let me sit next to you.” You tapped his knee, physically reassuring that you were there and moving to only where you said.

When you sat on the couch, you brushed your back into the cushions, letting your body mold into the plush feeling. Until Jason felt the weight of you near, did he finally let himself lean back.

You watched as he finally closed his eyes, the aches in his muscles looking visible by the small strain in his expression. The furrowed brows and his slow breaths were making you want to analyze him more.

“Trying to stare a hole into my face?” Jason slightly chuckled. He didn’t seem amused, but it was hard not to fall into the usual humor that crept and hid what he actually felt.

“I know how I acted wasn’t the best welcome home, but I really am glad you’re back.”

Jason opened his eyes slowly, letting his eyes follow the sound of your hesitation, but genuine words.

“I know.” He reached out his palm to rest on your leg next to his. It was colder than you liked. “Compared to the three days I was gone, that was the scariest thing I had to face.”

He smiled, but you knew he was lying.

“As long as you make it back.” You felt the weight of your words.

It shifted the air more than you liked.

“I’m a little more banged up this time.” Jason used his thumb to gently nudge your cheek. It was playful, but soothing.

It was a sweet moment, but you knew better as you interrupted the smirk growing on his face.

“You better not say ‘but you should’ve seen the other guy.’” You mocked his raspy voice.

“The other woman.” Jason added another delicate nudge to your face. “Be more progressive.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the way he always had to have the last word.

“There it is.” Jason shifted his weight to lean more toward your body.

He radiated toward your warmth and eased his exhaustion to whatever open space there was. It was simple and familiar the way you shifted your arm over his leaning shoulders, letting him make himself unsuccessfully smaller next to you.

You rubbed the side of his head until you reached the back of his neck. It felt like he was melting into you more than he already had.

Three days without knowing where he was. It was long and daunting, but staying next to him was easy and replenishing.

It was more than enough to feel him beside you, your fingers against his back as it moved up and down to his breathing. The rough fabric of his compression shirt, made from known expensive material that Jason refused from Alfred, but nonetheless you assumed he was cornered by the older man.

“New shirt?” You asked as you scratched his back lightly, tracing the curve of his shoulder blades.

“Yeah, the other one got torn up and Alfred ‘coincidentally’ had this on him.” Jason murmured into your clothes, his warm breath etching through the threads of the fabric, making your skin burn sweetly. “It was absolutely embarrassing matching with everyone.”

You looked down to see his face fully content and smirking into your shoulder. You smiled at the secret expression and played along with the man too cool to match with his family.

“Darn, a tight compression shirt perfectly accentuating your every muscle? You better return it quick.” You bumped his head against yours.

Jason exhaled a laugh, letting his smile lines become prominent at the clear annoyance of the new suit.

”I was right.” He opened his eyes and straightened his back again. His face leaned in close to yours as he traced your jaw with a light hand. “You are more dangerous than anything I’ve faced outside.”

You had to admit to yourself that he was a charmer whether he liked to admit it or not. Sometimes it was more frustrating that Jason didn’t know how smooth and attractive he could be without even trying.

You grabbed onto the base of his palm, overlapping your hands over his, giving him a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Come on. We need to go to bed before I get more dangerous.” You stood up, still holding onto the hand that you kissed and grabbing onto the other. Tugging at his arms to try to get him to lift off the couch.

Jason didn’t move or help you at all at trying to lift his body. Watching and making his back go limp into the cushions he leaned on.

You adjusted your body weight and attempted to at least pull his back forward, but only successfully got him to fall forward toward your standing body. He tugged you by your joined hands, taking advantage of your lack of awareness and brought you back to him. With one knee bent onto the couch, right next to his thigh, you realized that neither of you were going nowhere.

The sun was coming in through the crevices of the blinds, reaching into the apartment to touch and highlight the floorboards, the couch that your partner had no plans on leaving, and the walls covered with photos of the two of you.

Each held with a memory that neither of you wanted to forget and making the sun feel even warmer.

“Let’s just stay here.” Jason rubbed your knuckles with his calloused fingers.

“You haven’t even changed and the sun is out.” Despite your complaints, you were feeling your body slowly absorb into Jason’s.

“I’ll block it, but I’m not getting up, so lay with me.”

“How cheesy.” You smiled after letting him plop your bodies next to each other.

Jason kept his promise and leaned over you enough to block out the sun rays coming inside and the calm exhaustion that came in large waves over the two of you made your breaths slow and easy. Your first day after reuniting was spent sleeping, legs entangled and bodies right next to each other

--

Writing Tag List: @nekotaetae @flanhog @oliveyougently @lexi2005 @winterhi09 @superherosdystopiafreak @kysrion @b4stard95 @kdjhubby @coldnightshark @oohyasumi @profoundgreenturtle @straight-n-arrow @killxz @temple-of-jalebi @meep-merp124 @venuslovey @apcqlypse @aceoffates want to join? link here!

[siddyyyyyyyy]

"Don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like that! You can't just waltz back into my life like you haven't been missing for the past few months!"

Jason Todd x reader <3 (sorry if I'm giving u too much work...😚♡)

I REALLY like your request and i'm genuinely so happy that people make requests for me, but i've seen this exact request over and over in my inbox, and in other fics too don't get me wrong, i love this scenario but i have simply seen it way too many times before, and i don't think i can come up with anything new or creative with that😖😖

really really appreciate it though and i wish you the bestest of the best you seem really sweet >"< please don't take it personally

[siddyyyyyyyy]

When he kill rapists & pedos in his free time

[siddyyyyyyyy]

hi it's me again 🙈

might I request dick Grayson x younger!sibling reader who's like fighting for his attention? I mean like being Nightwing takes up all of his time and reader is basically left to Bruce and the rest of the family,, love u <3

No Loss, No Love

Dick Grayson x Batsis!Reader

wc: 1.2 K summary: What does it feel like when no one around you seems to notice you anymore? Will you fight for attention and recognition or go under? warnings: platonic story, slight description of injury, neglect a/n: I'm so sorry for the long wait, I genuinely had no idea how to write this, but now I finally picked my brain up and did something! Enjoy!

There was one time — after you got under Bruce‘s wing — where Dick and you went for a walk after patrol. The air was cool but not too cold at the moment. The moon was still up and Dick insisted on holding your hand, afraid of losing little you in the dark. Not that you minded.

»So, you mentioned you never had any slushies before?« Dick starts, glancing briefly down at you before focusing back on the path back towards the cave with you.

You give him a short nod back, scanning the dark streets of Gotham as you walk beside him, feeling safe like this. A cold wind goes past the two of you, making you tighten your grip around his hand. Richard smiles faintly at the action and continues to lead the way back to the cave, since you are still new to the whole vigilante thing.

Bruce has accepted you after Dick came up to him with you by his side, hiding behind his legs. At first, it looked like he needed help babysitting, but Bruce has never seen you before that point and was concerned about having grandchildren so early. Luckily, that wasn‘t the case, and it turned out that he had found you during his patrol, trembling but determined to keep up a strong front. Even if you were half his size, pointing a broken glass towards him, threatingly.

»We‘re gonna need to try those out one time, huh? Some time, after patrol.« He chirps up more gently this time, tugging lightly on your hand. You give him another nod, speaking up in agreement. His smile makes lights up the air around you, making you giggle lightly in return.

The air wasn‘t fresh and minty, there was no comforting hold on your hand as you wake up from getting knocked out. You weakly try to grasp onto the warm memories, refusing to let reality consume you again. Your hands at your sides tremble as you fidget with your fingers.

It hurts. Your left shoulder pounds painfully, only now noticing the light graze wound, one that toured through your suit, leaving a dark red stain around the area. Luckily, it doesn‘t seem to go through your muscle, only having hurt your skin. The dark alley way echos with your grunt, as you pull yourself up, feeling your legs grow weak and tremble. Still, despite the injuries and dark surroundings, you barely make your way out of the cold alley way, into the open street.

»There!« A voice, you can‘t register at the moment, startles you and makes you turn your head to the side. Red Robin hurries to your side, quickly supporting you. »Why didn‘t you report your status?«

»I literally just woke up.«

»Right.« He carefully guides you to the Batmobile, Batman coming up to help you sit inside. After a brief check-up, he could tell it was more than a graze on your shoulder. It was dislocated.

Leaning back into the passenger seat, you watch Bruce drive back to the Batcave first, not bothering to speak up with you or tell you how they defeated Poison Ivy and got her back into Arkahm. You won‘t speak up either. It‘s no use, and it‘s not like you can talk about anything other than work with him. Not like earlier times, when you were simply accompaning him and Dick during short patrols, and getting used to the whole schedule. That sort of easiness is gone, replaced with an underlying tension, neither of you seem to want to talk about.

»Deep breath in,« Alfred instrucks as he holds your shoulder and arm, making you ready to lock it back in. After a brief crack and a quiet groan, he managed to put it back in place. Next comes the stabilizing, making sure your shoulder heals properly.

»Patrolling is strictly forbidden for the next two weeks, until your shoulder heals.«

»What?« You huff back, your brain having struggles accepting his words. But the butler won‘t even show an ounce of emotion, instead cleaning up the cart with the used medical supplies.

»You heard him. It‘s too dangerous for you.«

You spine goes cold at the voice, instantly recognising it. It was a voice you desperately hoped to hear again, but not in this context. Dick‘s hand gently squeezes your good shoulder, glancing down at you sympathically. The lack of response from your side makes his brow crease, tilting his head at you.

»Still grumpy?«

But before you could answer or exchange some words with him — maybe even get the playful banter back — Bruce interrupts the moment.

»I need your files of Posion Ivy and your help on the next case. You said you have connections to Cyborg?«

You are left alone, not even a few seconds later. Alone with your exhausted and aching limbs, having to carry yourself back into your room. Usually, Dick would‘ve carried you back into your bed and tuck you in, if it was still the early days of your vigilante career. The realisation leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, forcing yourself not to think about it.

You are livid at yourself. You shouldn‘t be this attached to someone, let alone crave comfort in such way. It‘s almost like your heart squeezes uncontrollably everytime you remember that your early ‘Robin‘ days are gone. You are not the little kid that needs support and guidance through the day, who gets sweets after doing a good job. Bruce doesn‘t seem to acknoweledge you as much anymore, leaving you to your own duties and cases. You tried reasoning it with him trying to be less controlling, to avoid repeating past mistakes. But it doesn‘t come across like that sometimes. He doesn‘t check up on you as much, he won‘t help you if he sees you struggling on a case; relying on you to figure it out eventually. Even if you make small mistakes or do slip ups on missions, he doesn‘t react as much. The lack of emotions is starting to haunt you.

The following weeks go by even slower, trying to take your time on healing your shoulder. Now that you actually get to sleep longer, since patrol is forbidden, you start getting dreams. Reliving past memories, where you and Dick spent time together, or simply talked to the other boys. They were slightly different, but still just as wholesome and familiar, filling you with solace and relief.

You stir awake from your sleep, unwillingly getting out of Dick‘s warm hug. The warmth leaves your body as you slowly realise you were dreaming about it, desperately trying to go back to sleep and get back into the welcoming hug, but it won‘t happen.

Your body lays wide awake in your bed, staring blankly into the ceiling as you contemplate doing the most desperate thing you‘ve done in your life, probably.

»Did I wake you?«

You ask into the phone as you hold it close to your ear, waiting for Dick‘s answer. There‘s a constant bad feeling at the back of your head, some sort of guilt.

»No, just got off work. Does B need something again? Do you need anything?« He answers back with a small sigh, and you hear the faint click of a door in the background.

»Uh… y‘know. Just wanted to check, nothing else.«

There‘s a light pause on his end, making you question if he‘s still on the line or not. Finally, he speaks up again, his voice more tired than before.

»Listen, I had a long today, and I‘ll call back tomorrow, because I need sleep. Promise me to be okay?«

You nod before realising he can‘t see it, giving him a small hum back. The call ends without further words exchanged, leaving your room silent again.

Tomorrow, he doesn‘t call back.

←MASTERLIST

taglist₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆. @143637-hrrm @dollyure @ibreathesmut @dreamzaremyrealityy @aceoffates

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Hello, wonderful souls! 🤍🌍

I hope you're doing well. 🌿

Could you help me amplify my family's story and bring awareness to our struggle? 🙏🏻

💬 Please reblog my pinned post or consider donating just $5—your support could truly make a difference in saving lives amidst war and hardship.

Your kindness and voice matter more than you know. Thank you from the bottom of my heart! 🤍🌿

🕊️ @mosabsdr | Every share counts. 💫

🤍

[siddyyyyyyyy]

🌍✨ A Voice from Gaza: Fighting for Hope ❤️‍🩹

Hi, my name is Mosab , and I’m from Gaza. Life here has been harder than I could ever imagine, but today I’m sharing my story with hope in my heart, because your kindness has already given us so much strength.

This journey hasn’t been easy. The war has taken 25 family members from us—25 beautiful souls we loved deeply. Their laughter, their presence, their love… all of it is gone, leaving behind memories that are both precious and painful. Every day, I carry the weight of their loss, but I also carry their spirit, which gives me the strength to keep going.

Our Journey So Far

When I first reached out, I couldn’t have imagined we’d make it this far. Your support has been a light in these difficult times, and we are so deeply grateful for every single contribution.

But the road ahead is still challenging. Every day, we’re reminded of how much we’ve lost and how much we still need to rebuild.

Here’s what life in Gaza looks like for my family right now:

🏠 Safety: The uncertainty of tomorrow weighs heavily on us.

😢 Loss: The absence of the 25 family members we’ve lost is a pain we carry every moment.

💔 Dreams on Hold: The future feels so far away when survival takes all our strength.

How You Can Help Us Cross the Finish Line Even the smallest act of kindness can make a difference:

$5 may seem small, but for us, it’s a little relief, a moment of comfort, and a reminder that kindness still exists. ❤️

Can’t donate? Reblog this post to help us reach someone who can. Every share matters more than you know.

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters ( #309 ) ✅️

Why Your Support Matters Your kindness isn’t just about helping us meet our goal—it’s about reminding us that we’re not alone in this fight. It’s about hope. It’s about survival. And it’s about giving my family a chance to rebuild our lives, even in the face of unimaginable loss.

Thank you for helping us get this far. Your generosity and compassion have already brought us closer to a better tomorrow, and for that, I’m endlessly grateful.

With all my love and gratitude,

Mosab and Family ❤️

[siddyyyyyyyy]

oh. OH. SHOULD I BE SCARED OR WORRIED!? i mean i did ask for angst so

🤫

i don't wanna spoil anything yet😔

[siddyyyyyyyy]

good cuz I thought u werre ignoring my req on purpose 😭,, i was like 'did i break a rule or smth😔'

NOO you're fine 😭😭

i have another request in my inbox, but I'll take care of yours first, then i can finally focus on the other.

just know that yours will hurt.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

oh im sorry i didn't wanna come off as pushy or annoying 😔😔😔😔 take ur time lil bro 🫡

NOO IT'S TOTALLY FINE ‼️

your request has been stuck in my inbox for over a month, I would get worried as well. But I started some building and writing, hopefully it will get out tomorrow 😛 no promises though

[siddyyyyyyyy]

pleasepleasepleaseiriejfjdi just give me more of angsty father!dick grayson please bro 😔😔😔😔😔💔💔💔💔💔💔

I'm working on it🙏🙏🙏 i swear

I just need a bit time to figure out how to make it proper and angsty instead of cringy

Have a bit of patience with me😓😓

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Past Careers

pairing: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne (seperate) summary: They find about your past career as a dancer. warnings: fem!reader, slightly suggestive theme, (fluff), no y/n used a/n: sorry about my inactiveness again, my apartment almost burned down last night, but at least i got two weeks off! sorry about any errors, enjoy!

⁛ DICK GRAYSON

It was a total accident. He trusts you as a teammate and coworker in the vigilante field, but something about snooping in your files and digital footprint was so intriguing to him. You tend to keep to yourself most of the time, ignoring his playful remarks, and more or less funny quips. He doesn‘t know much about you, and he won‘t ask personal questions since he should learn to mind his business (that‘s what you told him). Despite his dying need to get to know you better, he won‘t let himself look into your life or vigilante career more closely.

Still, that‘s clearly not what happened this night at patrol. Once he got his hands on his device, he couldn‘t help himself and searched you up. Or rather, your files and somehow got his hands on your birth certificate, which made him learn your real name.

Without further waiting and a lot of guilty doubts, he searched and looked up stuff with your real name. Dick found himself a comfortablel spot by a fire escape, sitting at on of the stairs witha his tablet in his hands. The bright screen illuminated his face, his eyes intently studying the images before him, under his mask. His eyebrows shot up once he discovers a video, the caption being ‘Dirty Dancing in [ ] Club. Fire Show!‘. Of course he had to click on it, even if it was a possible scam, or something completely unrelated to you.

A typical jazz tune comes form the small speakers of his tablet, the camera being directed at the stage. The lights are low, creating a cozy atmosphere around the supposed club.

The spotlight focuses on the woman stepping on the stage, her steps confident, yet secretive. Her steps are in sync to the Jazz band, as she slowly removes her fluffy coat, teasing the crowd with her movements. Even Dick has to shift on the fireescape, keeping his attention to the video.

There‘s no way this is his actual coworker, who he sees almost every night on patrol. Clearing his throat, he continues to thoroughly study the video.

The dancer surprises the crowd once she throws her coat away to the side, the poor speakers of his tablet almost explode as the audience cheers and whistles, making him lower the volume. Now, you pose for the audience, your outfit not just revealing, but also gorgeous. It sparkles in the spotlight, hugging your curves perfectly and leaving little to imagination.

Dick feels his brain short-circuting for a second, having to process what he sees before him.

»I hated that song.«

He flinches, almost throwing his tablet away as he yelps from the sudden voice beside him. You keep your eyes on Nightwing, staying leaned against the railing of the fire escape.

»Oh, hey… fancy seeing you. I was just—« He visibly pauses and looks back down at his tablet before meeting your eyes again. »That‘s you?«

Finally, with a soft sigh, you nod and expect any kind of reaction from him. Either disgust, disappointment, confusion, but definitely not fascination.

He starts to give you a thorough review of your perfomance, although it mostly consists of compliments and questions, such as ‘Why did you never tell me?‘, or ‘How long? Can you tell me more?‘. You were in for a ride.

But he sure knows he found another thing he likes about you, except your skills in combat and ability to keep calm in almost every situation.

⁛ JASON TODD

He wasn‘t one to pry or be curious about ones personal life, especially when it comes to other vigilantes around his area. Sure, he tends to do check ups and make sure nothing is falling apart, but that‘s the most he does. Besides, you are one of the few he trusts the most about work. You both team up on missions, or patrol together regularly, and also have a similar kind of humor. Jason is glad you don‘t ask for more and also tend to be more private about other stuff, besides work.

It‘s not until one evening, he takes up on a usual research about another case, before he stumbles upon suspicious looking files. Surely, a small distraction won‘t hurt. He clicks on it, getting sent to another site with several files, which he soon learns, are personal information about certain vigilantes. He found the source of the current problem, but now he is growing curious as well.

Your vigilante name is on this list, and he wouldn‘t want your identity to be leaked so carelessly. Finally, he clicks on it and finds himself reading through important and sensitive information about you. Your name, address, family— hell, even your career choice before this.

He can‘t help himself, but look through it and eventually check on your past careers. The first few were normal, a waitress, barista, even working at walmart, but ‘professional dancer‘ wasn‘t what he was expecting. Luckily, there are a few videos attached.

Jason‘s hand almost crushes his mouse at the table as he takes in the rather seductive, yet slow movements of your body in that revealing outfit. After a minute in, he pauses the video and stands off his chair to pace a few circles around his room.

Eventually, he sits back on his chair and makes sure to get rid of all these accessible information, protecting your identity and others.

There‘s no way he‘ll approach this subject with you. Unless he is drunk, or completely sleep deprived, which makes his brain and mouth go loose. But surely, none of these will happen soon enough.

⁛ BRUCE WAYNE

He was simply making sure you are a trust worthy person, like he did with every other vigilante he knows and works with. It helped him prevent accidents happen, and keep himself safer that way.

As he reades over your files, he‘s gathered nothing much but your harmless appearance and rather normal life— compared to most others. He didn‘t consider looking into your past careers, until his growing curiousity got the better out of him. The list was rather short, just a couple average jobs most people did at least once in their lifetime, until the last one made him blink a few times.

‘Professional dancer‘?

Sure, it‘s nothing bad, or negative, but it still made him question it more than the others. What kind of dancing did you do? Soon enough, he found some clips of your perfomances across the internet. Some captions were questionable, but he still wanted to take a look at it.

There‘s was the quiet music playing from the speakers, he made sure to keep it low. It looked promising, it didn‘t look cheap, but it didn‘t look too professional either. The stage made it clear that the location was most likely at a bar. Bruce watches, the frown on his face almost faltering once you get on stage and start your perfomance. He shifts ever so lightly in his seat, keeping his eyes on his monitors while you give a rather… suggestive dance. Your moves are graceful and teasing, which make the crowd cheer louder each time you strike a new pose or move.

Alfred clears his throat from further afar, spooking Bruce the slightest bit. He pauses the clip and gets rid of the site, making sure to keep his calm demeanor.

»Master Bruce, I am unsure of… that clip, but I am here to inform you about Mister Freeze‘s new attack.«

Bruce nods his head and gets off his chair, his mind being occupied with everything other than whatever Mister Freeze has planned.

Luckily, he gets his head straight, focusing on his actual duties and makes sure to pointly ignore Alfred‘s questioning about the video. Of course, he will try to make you talk about your past dance career, as well as keep further images out of his mind.

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Vacation Trip Dean Winchester x Reader

wc: 0.7 K summary: Dean and you finally get a week off, and Dean is having the time of his life. a/n: so sorry for the long break, i was having another breakdown after the other but at least i'm getting help for it now!!!! enjoy this drabble, i'm currently binging Supernatural like no other.

It was a rare occasion, finally having the time to be alone and have some days for yourselves. You both need a week off after the exhausting few week of hunting and saving each other‘s backs, so driving to the beach is the next best thing that came to mind.

Booking a comfortable hotel room for the two of you with a pool beside the building, made for an even better vacation for Dean.

He hasn‘t been in a pool since forever and the fact that he can just have it for himself — for you both, really made him feeling ecstatic. It‘s not like you can blame him, if anything, you feel forever grateful and impossibly reliefed over the week off.

Sam insisted on keeping track of possible cases popping up while the two of you are away. He is happy for his brother to have found someone to be happy with, and feels even more glad that Dean has the opportunity to relax with you, all alone.

He has grown tired of the constant looks Dean gives you when you don‘t look, so this is also a break for him.

As you get out of the building to join Dean in the pool, you already see him in the water, wet hair, and a big grin on his face. He doesn‘t even notice you before he dives back in and swims to the other end of the pool, coming back out for air. You watch him shake his head quickly, looking like a dog trying to get his hair dry again.

After seeing him swim and splash around like a hyperactive fish, you decide to walk over to the edge of the pool and sit down, setting your legs into the cool water.

»Hey, sweetheart! Look what I can do,« before you even nod in acknoweledgement, he dives back into the water and makes a handstand under it. Solely his feet show from the water, making you bite back a chuckle. After a few seconds of showing off, he gets back into the air and gets closer to where you sit, holding onto the edge of the pool.

»Cool, huh? I bet you didn‘t know I could do that.«

His smirk shows pure smugness, making you almost roll your eyes. Still, despite the over confident demeanor, you give him a nod.

»Really cool, Dean. I didn‘t know you would transform into a child once you jump into a pool.«

That makes him grow defensive, almost immediately shooting back. »Hey, I‘m just trying to have fun, okay? You could use some.«

He splashes some water against your knees, making your roll your eyes this time. After a moment of contemplation, you slip into the water, feeling the cool liquid surround you.

»Fine… «

Dean smiles victoriously and leans back, being relaxed in the water on his back.

The first few moments are spent quiet and peaceful, getting to get used to the water and just swim around a little, and bask in the warm sun. Dean swims closer to you, speaking up with a small smile.

»Think you can count for how long I can hold my breath under water?«

You study him for a moment, getting distracted by the shiny droplets of water over his skin and shiny eyes from the sun, eventually snapping back.

»Sure.«

And that‘s how it starts. You watch him dive into the water and stay there for as long as he can, while you count down the seconds. Turns out, he isn‘t as bad in it as you initially thought. However for Dean— he feels determined to crack his own record he once set when he was ten.

He emerges from the water and you stop counting in your head, waiting for him to catch his breath for a moment.

»Did you count?«

»Fourty-three seconds.«

»Aw, man!« Dean hits his fist into the water, showing genuine frustration.

You actually wonder how someone can be so determinded about setting a new record on holding his breath.

Eventually, he turns back to you, a less frustrated expression on his face.

»Another one, okay? Then we can go to that restaurant you talked about.« The wink he gives you makes this seem like a cliche scene from a summer movie. But before you could tease him about it, he takes a deep breath and sinks into the water dramatically.

You huff out and focus on counting again, also trying not to get worried about him possibly drowning.

a/n: sorry for the short drabble, i promise to write a little more in the future when i finally have more time! if you want to be in the taglist, drop a message into my inbox or comment on one of my posts, just make sure to tell me in what fandom you want to be tagged in! thanks

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[siddyyyyyyyy]

me realizing that if I write… I actually have to write

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Irresistible

Rockstar!Jason Todd x Rockstar!Reader

summary: Your band is headlining for the next summer festival tour, but sadly, your rival band gets to perform in the same festivals as you. The fans are ecstatic, they get to see two popular bands in several festivals, and potentially get to witness more drama between these two rival bands. But will it actually be as entertaining as your fans expect it to be? wc: 1.7 K warnings: (slow burn), rivals to lovers, no y/n used, Jason is a smug ass a/n: i don't know what to say, but the next part will come out some time, have patience with me🙏🙏

⟨PROLOGUE⟩-⟨PART ONE⟩-⟨NEXT⟩

The words flow easily off your tongue as you perform in front of the huge crowd, focusing partly on your perfomance and singing, wanting to give the people your best. You lean your back against the back of your guitarist, moving your shoulders lightly along to the rhythm, as he plays his solo. The crowd cheers whenever you point the mic to the crowd, loudly singing along the lyrics. It‘s a refreshing feeling, getting to perform in front of thousands again, feeling the enthusiastic festival air around. The sun strikes everyone with a light glow, giving added warmth, and making you sweat. Some beers fly around the crowd, as you wink at crowd surfers, and get to out-do your rival band, who performed earlier on the same festival.

You forgot who started the rivality in the first place. There was an underlying tension between you two from the beginning, until someone finally had the nerves to speak up about it, and properly start the back and forth bullying. Just like today, you use the small break before the next song to entertain the crowd.

»Oh, and Jason, if you are watching… make sure to lock your girlfriends away tonight,« you smile cheekily before the lights go out, giving you time to prepare for the next song.

Jason huffs out lightly as he watches further away at the back of the sea of people, the huge crowd seeming amused and excited, much to his dismay. Despite his light jealousy, he still feels the strong urge to continue watching your whole perfomance. It‘s almost pathetic, but he always manages to make up new excuses to watch your band play live. Especially on festivals. It‘s not like he has anything else to do, this is just another typical festival tour.

The next song pulls Jason out of his contemplative stare, straightening up a bit. His back is starting to kill him, but he refuses to leave, searching for anything he can critizise you for in the next interview. Much to his luck, your band plays the last few songs before finally wrapping it up, throwing drum-sticks and guitar picks into the crowd before leaving back stage.

You get rid of your earpiece once you step off the big stage, walking down the few steps until you are back on the solid ground, near the tour buses and wagons, where some bands spend a night in or get ready for their show. Just like every other music artist, you want to get back to your own tour bus, take a quick shower, eat a hearty meal before passing out in your small bunk bed.

»Hey, ‘Obsessed Freaks‘… Great show, back there. Could‘ve been shorter, though.«

Of course, that agitating voice comes right around the corner to bother you and your bandmates before your deserving break. With an calming sigh, you face Jason before addressing him as well.

»We were headlining tonight, of course our show would be longer than yours.«

The broody man before you frowns lightly, brows knitting together more than they already are. Judging from his brief silence, it seems you hit a nerve.

»At least we had more people on our show. Can‘t imagine that on one of yours happening.«

You glance at your band mates who slightly behind you, giving them a scetpical look. They share your opinion, giving desinterested and tired looks back at Jason, who won‘t leave his position, too stubborn to admit defeat yet.

Suddenly, a hurried reporter with his packed camera man jog up to your band, camera rolling, while the reporter talks some information into his mic, glancing back to the camera every now and then. You don‘t know why he could possibly in such a hurry to interview any of you, but it feels like he just wants to get a clip of Jason and you, just to get more viewers in return.

»Legendary ‘Obsessed Freaks‘ with… Jason Todd? Looks like I caught them in the heat of the moment!« The scrawny reporter has his wide eyes trained on you, pushing his mic into your way, »Tell us what happened, did I interrupt something?«

Obviously, he tries to be clueless and get you to spit everything out for him, but you know better than to fall for his little trap.

Before you could subtly insult him, Jason leans in close to your ear, making sure nothing gets picked up by the large mic of the reporter.

»See ya on the next festival, smartass.«

His breath briefly tickles your skin, making you feel disgusted about yourself, before he leaves the scene with his head down, a light smirk gracing his face.

The camera catches the way he walks away before panning back to your tense expression, eyes following him for a few seconds. Finally, the reporter tries again, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking abnormally big from his thick lenses.

»So, what happened?«

»Nothing... nothing to be worried about...« You exhale softly, giving him a softer expression instead. Despite his eager curiousness and slight persuasive nature, you can‘t help but stay polite, if not friendly to him.

You and your band manage to answer some of his questions with patience, before the reporter finally gets off your back after gathering useless information.

◖

By the time you woke up and made your way to the next festival in a different state, you manage to finally find some time for your phone, scrolling through different social medias. It‘s the usual package of weird memes, mostly ones you don‘t understand because they are too ‘new‘. You take a mental note to ask your drummer what some of those mean, since he seems to be on his phone all the time, even during recording sessions. As you scroll through another social media platform, that‘s known for its short video content, you catch yourself chocking on air. Nyomi, who‘s been peacefully sitting next to you on the bus ride, flinches and gently pats your back, trying to make stop coughing.

»Dude, are you okay?«

You violently shake your head at her question, gradually regaining your breath again. She keeps her concerned gaze on you, also being the slightest bit amused at the sudden coughing fit. With a pained groan, you shove your phone into her hands, the edit playing from the beginning.

It starts with a clip as an intro, it displaying how Jason leans into your ear, whispering something before walking off smugly. The clip has a smooth transition into an edit of no one other than Jason, various clips of him playing on bass and singing, before there are different clips of you. Nyomi‘s eyes flick back up to you, unsure if she should be amused or disgusted. She is well aware of the rivalry between you and the other front singer, and the caption of the thirst video doesn‘t make it better.

"Can‘t deny how hot they look together."

Judging by your physical rejection, she decides not to make fun of you, for now. »I‘d rather choke on air too, instead of getting shipped with him.«

It‘s one of the ways she tries to reassure you, and it‘s not working particularly great at the moment. You shoot her a rather concerned look, mixed with a hint of confusion.

»Why are internet people like this?«

This time, Nyomi doesn‘t feel guilty to laugh. She shrugs in response, leaning back into her seat, not being as worried about it.

»Just make sure not to check the comments.«

You tilt your head at her warning, growing more cautious and slightly anxious.

»What? Why, what‘s up there?« You see her shrug her shoulders, turning her attention back to her book instead. After not getting a response, you settle on closing the app on your phone and listen to music for the rest of the ride.

During the ride, the music does little to distract your mind from your own thoughts, but it starts to get better once you get closer to the next location; hoping the next show won‘t include greedy interviewers who will do anything to sneak into the backstage area.

◖

Jason loves and hates the thrill before going on stage. He can hear the faint cheers and various voices from the crowd, his adrenaline pumping faster in his body the more he focuses on it. He already had one beer to soothe his nerves, but it never makes much of a difference anyway. His bandmates are the only possible way of distracting him from nervousness before walking up on stage.

The sun hits him, as well as the few colourful lights on stage, making his skin shine even more. Lyrics and notes seem to flow as easily as any other day, giving the crowd an energetic show. His fingers glide over the fred board of his bass-guitar, mostly focusing on controlling his voice.

Jason performs with purpose, and he lives for these moments. To show the world how important music is for him, and hoping it‘s just as important and helpful for other people. To perform music is an art form itself, and he would do anything to keep it alive and inspire other people, like his favourite bands did with him.

Of course, not everyone sees the art and soul he puts into his works, but it‘s not like he cares as much about it.

Articles call him selfless, insanely creative and experimental with his music, but you don't see it. It‘s not like his music sounds awful, it lacks the whole ‘creative and experimental‘ shtick. Not to say that your band is better or revolutionary, but it‘s clear how much the media likes to praise Jason‘s band, mostly due to his attractive surface.

Which is why the occasional edits make you grit your teeth and force yourself not to get mad. It‘s a shame, how easily fan edits start to get out of hand, ignoring the on-going rivarly between you two, just to put clips together and make insensitive comments about the both of you.

Despite social media, you continue to focus on your passion, ignoring everyone else around.

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[siddyyyyyyyy]

Irresistible

Rockstar!Jason Todd x Rockstar!Reader

summary: Your band is headlining for the next summer festival tour, but sadly, your rival band gets to perform in the same festivals as you. The fans are ecstatic, they get to see two popular bands in several festivals, and potentially get to witness more drama between these two rival bands. But will it actually be as entertaining as your fans expect it to be? wc: 1.5K warnings: (slow burn), rivals to lovers, no y/n used, bullying mentioned (?) a/n: Thank you so much for over 500 followers!! This series is a special thanks for all the people that support me and enjoy my works, I hope you all enjoy this one as well!

⟨PART ONE⟩-⟨NEXT⟩

You never liked crowds or being the center of attention. Still, you feel determined to perform and show people that you are not useless.

There‘s this strong urge to prove everyone wrong, the overwhelming will to stand up for yourself and ignore your trembling hands as you hold the microphone. You glance beside to your best friend, noticing her rather carefree demeanor, holding her guitar ready while her fingers are already placed on the first chord. She gives you a reassuring nod, slowing your racing heart by a little.

After taking a steadying breath, the band starts playing, counting down the beats until your cue, in your head. The students in front of you stay seated on the many benches of the gym, some on their phone or chatting with their friends. It doesn‘t seem like anyone actually pays attention or actively listens to the music, but it still makes you nervous and giddy, singing and performing live in front of the whole school, after some event you didn‘t care enough about.

Even if not many people are paying attention, you can still feel burning stares on you, making your voice shaky before you eventually steady it. As the song progresses, you manage to find some confidence and perform more freely, ignoring the concerned gazes from some teachers, as you perform the fry screams of the song.

It‘s a shame you can‘t perform one of your own songs, instead having to perform another random song. Luckily, you could choose it, which is why you aren‘t as concerned of others possibly hating it.

The big hall fills with cheers and applause after the end of the performance, looking back to the students, to see some of them already exiting the gym. One of the teachers approaches your band, a big smile on his face. You can smell the conversation from a while away, knowing he will try his best to get his 80‘s rock influence on to your band as well.

»Amazing show, you guys! Have ya ever heard of the band ‘Kiss‘? Y‘know, I once saw them live in 1981… they were different, « he starts rambling your ears off, ignoring your tired demeanor after giving a nerve wracking perfomance.

You nod along, glancing back to the drummer, Nick, giving him an expression that‘s clearly a cry for help. He catches the look and walks over to you, smoothly interrupting the conversation, so you can get away and catch a proper break.

»Hey, mister Jones! What‘d you think of my drum set? Bought it from home just for this.« The literature teacher gives him an approving hum, stepping closer to Nick‘s drum kit and inspecting it. They fall into another conversation, which consists of Mr. Jones talking about his youth, and his love for rock back when he was the same age.

While the students file out of the gym, you step back with your guitarist, watching her set her guitar away, shutting off the amplifier. Nyomi notices your presence, glancing briefly up at you.

»Wasn‘t as bad, was it?« You shrug at her question, crossing your arms over your chest.

»Could be better if they actually did listen, and didn't pretend we weren‘t there.«

She hears your light scoff, shrugging to herself a little. »I guess… at least we could traumatize some teachers.«

You can‘t help but chuckle softly, picking up the cables and start to arrange them neatly again. It‘s not often the school made any kind of event, let alone give some students the opportunity to show their talents and hobbies. Most of the organising was done by yourself anyway, having quickly realised how lazy they actually were with it. Pushing the negative thoughts away, you focus on getting your stuff together and help the rest with cleaning up.

The walk back home was loud with your own thoughts, overplaying the screamy music playing from your headphones. You ponder about your earlier performance, unsure if it was actually worth the stress.

There was this group of girls that always managed to get under your skin without actually saying anything directly to you. They tend to be polite to you, but ignore you whenever you try to say something in a conversation, or tear away whoever is currently talking to you at the moment, just so they can have all the attention again. It‘s as if the group of girls are fighting for attention in their own group. Normally, it wouldn‘t really bother you, but they still manage to make up space in your mind, even after school. Nyomi told you to not care and focus on yourself, but it‘s difficult when they giggle and do unfunny jokes during class, and refuse to take anything seriously.

Kicking a small rock along the pavement, you try not to work yourself up over it. As you unlock the front door, you try to be as quiet as possible, not wanting any more attention from anyone else. Fortunately, your parents are busy doing something else on their own, managing to get into your own room without having to talk to anyone. You don‘t bother telling them about your small achievement of playing in front of the school, knowing they won‘t give you much of a reaction either way.

◖

Four years have passed since your first perfomance, you‘ve gained a new band member who plays the bass, and you study at a musical university. There‘s nothing else you can really do with your life, despite dedicating it to music and doing part time jobs to keep yourself above water.

Creating and writing music has become easier for you, especially when the others of the band are being creative and coorperate as well. You have released some singles and one album already, which hasn't found much of an audience yet. But you feel like the upcoming music video will change your current audience and reach.

After putting hours of work into your new project, you are only waiting for it to be ready to put out. And once your editor shows the final product of the whole video, you can‘t help but feel giddy and excited to bring it out to the world.

Your band decided to get a music video of the most popular and heavy songs from the album, making sure ot create a brief story line for it and just go all out on. Surprisingly, everyone felt comfortable on camera and got decents shots, the actors, for the brief story line, were genuine and dedicated to their short role. As for the setting, you were lucky to have a great editor, to make it look more professional.

Once the video got out, you only had to wait one night before your band name got more recognition, finding articles about the video and your album. You even got invited to go on an interview all together. And who‘s stupid enough to deny that?

After getting more attention and increasingly more listeners, you felt overwhelmed with success and new confidence. There was suddenly a new wave of people who genuinenly enjoyed your music and art, receiving more positive feedback and support.

Of course, more attention, means more various opinions. Even other, more successful bands started to pay attention to you, mostly being suuportive and happy to have new faces in the scene. But for some reason, one particular band — or rather their front man — had an opposite opinion from everyone else.

»“They‘re [Obsessed Freaks] just some pop band that went viral for their edgy music video. They won‘t be able to hold the fame for long.“, says Jason Todd, singer of ‘Bad Sinister‘ from the latest Loudwire magazine— «

Nick shuts his phone off before tossing it on the couch, scoffing under his breath.

»What‘s with this guy? Didn‘t they start out at the same time as us?«

»Oh, he‘s just baiting for more attention, don‘t listen to him.« Carter waves it off, not at all concerned over the mixed opinions of the media.

Nick narrows his eyes, still not entirely calm from the news. He shifts on his seat before speaking up, starting to get slightly frustrated.

»What if he‘s right? What if we fail and just go back to being a local band in— «

»We‘re working on a new album right now, aren‘t we? They won‘t have to wait long for more music, it‘s not like we have to stress over it.«

A silence stretches over the pratice room after Carter‘s reassuring words, a mix of understanding and slight uncertainty lingering in the air. It‘s not until you stand off the ground and pick up your mic to start the practice, as everyone else gets their mind back into focus of the actual topic.

»Starting with “Shapeshifter“, right?«

You speak into the microphone, making sure everyone has their instruments set before the band starts playing, getting to groove together and work on the new album.

Now you have a new goal in mind. Prove yourself to the critics, even if it‘s an impossible task, and show of how much more you and your band are capable of. To release more music, to push your own limits and experiment a little with your style, to go harder and heavier.

Your new goal is to prove Jason Todd wrong, trigger, and provoke him, until he stops spreading his arrogance.

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[siddyyyyyyyy]

two very important men in my life

[siddyyyyyyyy]

hey guys, today I got my first fanart from my loyal fan @dollyure , i just wanted to say that I'm super grateful and i will print it out and hang it into my living room, so everyone can see it.