#He deserves to yell at Jason

[oifaaa]

Oh yeah, Mr. First-Robin-to-Get-a-Solo-and second-longest-Robin-run-and-now-a-Robin-again-instead-of-a-guy-who-is-supposed-rp-be-Robin-by-now is sure most mistreated

Here's the thing the comments were definitely meant in a in universe Tim's the most mistreated Robin way but even then its like baby boy hasn't even died as Robin both dick and Bruce respect the hell out of him as Robin and he's respected as a hero and leader in the outter hero community he's gotten beaten up a few times but that's just what being Robin is like

[little-pondhead]

DP x DC Prompt

…

There are no more heroes.

Well, okay. Rewind a bit.

Danny has been doing the hero thing for a while now. He’s had a big reveal; everyone has accepted him (including his parents), the GIW disbanded, the Anti-Ecto acts repealed, and generally, everything is going great. Some of the A-Listers are even training as junior ghost hunters to help give him a break from his rogues! (Being Ghost King makes things hectic sometimes, and he just needs the extra help. Sue him!)

The point is, literally nothing is wrong with Danny Phantom’s afterlife.

And then Valerie Gray, the Red Huntress, disappears in front of his eyes.

Danny is baffled! She’s just…gone! Valerie just popped out of existence, like she was never there. But no matter how hard he searches in the Ghost Zone, he can’t find her soul anywhere. His core isn't broken in grief. So she’s not dead. Which is good. So then, where is she?

Some of the others come forward with ideas on how to find her. A few ghosts volunteer to go out into the mortal realm, an area Danny had declared off-limits, to see if she was out there. Danny approves it. He rounds up some of the friendlier (i.e., discreet) ghosts and Amity Parkers and demolishes the outside travel ban.

So everyone spreads out, looking for their dear frenemy and teammate. But it becomes apparent very quickly that something is wrong with the rest of the world.

There are no more heroes.

Every single living superhero on the face of the Earth has just…vanished. Villains are running amok; the countries are in chaos! Some aliens are invading Earth, mythical deities are trying to take over, and society is crumbling to the ground. Everything is on the brink of collapse.

Well, Danny was still there. And so were his people. They were pretty spread out, so could they just…take up the mantles? He also knew where to find the souls of dead heroes in the Zone; surely they wouldn't mind coming out of retirement for a little bit, especially if they couldn't die again. Oh! And that skeleton army leftover from Pariah Dark's reign might be useful in repelling those invading forces.

Honestly, there were more than enough hands to go around! And with the heroes gone, Danny didn't mind letting everyone out for a little break, as long as they followed his rules. They wouldn't stop the search for the other heroes, but hopefully, when they found them, the heroes wouldn't mind Danny's intervention too much. :)

In other words:

Someone fucks up, and all of Earth's living heroes are either wished out of existence or are whisked away to some far-off realm where Danny hasn't checked yet. In the attempt to figure out what's going on, Danny lets the dead run amok over the Earth as they search for clues. The skeleton army repels the invading armies, the souls of dead heroes deal with the world leaders, and his rogues and other Amity Parkers set up shop in place of famous heroes, trying to get the cities under control again.

Basically, they just do their best to keep everything from imploding until the Justice League and others are back.

(And why is it that Danny hasn't disappeared? Well, whatever caused everyone to go poof! only affected living heroes. Anyone heroes that were dead in the first place, or even just half-dead, stayed behind.)

[lassoorleaveit]

At first i was like 'oh ho hoh ho Ted is kinda...😏 like Jason Sudeikis is kinda like...ya know?🥴' bUT NOW??? NOW ????

[sunnitheapollokid]

✴️ ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。GO ON AND PUT THAT RING ON MY FINGER!

how the heroes of olympus would react to you accidentally calling them “husband”! <3

characters in this thread : leo valdez, percy jackson, jason grace, frank zhang.

📬 sunni’s notes : hey sunni nation school is biting me in the ass but i am thriving (barely) ANYWAAAY i was thinking of some fic ideas and this had crossed my mind and thought it would be fun!! lowkey breaking my silence because i haven’t gone far enough to write about our boy frank so if he’s a little out of character then i apologize </3 okay happy reading bebis! sunkisses!!! >3<

ʚ PERCY JACKSON ɞ . . .

⊹ you and percy spent christmas break at sally’s apartment!

⊹ it was a snowy new york city day, and y’all decided to stay in and just bake some cookies with his mom, while paul was out for work.

⊹ “hell yeah!! cookies!!” percy yelled, grabbing the ingredients from the apartment pantry, a bag of flour, sugar, and white chocolate chips in his arms.

⊹ sally clapped her hands, “(name), honey, grab the powdered sugar please?” you nodded, on your way to the pantry.

⊹ you scanned the small room, percy walking beside you, his hands on his hips. he hit your hips with his own sassily, “come on babe, it’s right there.” he teased.

⊹ rolling your eyes you reply,

⊹ “hubba, i’m trying—“ you cut yourself off. “i.. i mean— ah.. i-“

⊹ percy, silent for a bit, burst into laughter, holding his stomach.

⊹ your cheeks growing a shade of pink, he helf you by the waist and peppered you with wet kisses. “awww, my dear ‘ol wife!” he said in a posh-accent.

⊹ you tried to get out of his embrace, but he kept his grip, “perce! stop!!” you laughed with him, percy continued his kisses before you two got scolded at by sally.

⊹ “love birds! hurry with the powdered sugar!”

⊹ before leaving back for school, percy asked his mom for engagement ring ideas.

⊹ this man did not want to waste time.

ʚ LEO VALDEZ ɞ . . .

⊹ spending your time back in leo’s cabin, everybody was gone for the end of summer break, and leo was the only one left back at the heph cabin.

⊹ you laid on his bed while he worked on a few projects, tossing a piece of metal in the air and catching it, letting it keep you distracted.

⊹ leo hummed, “mami, you okay?” he kept his eyes glued to the small machine infront of him.

⊹ you hummed back, “yeah. i’m peachy hubba.”

⊹ your eyes widen.

⊹ his eyes widen.

⊹ “wh.. whAT’D YOU SAY??” leo jumped, his goggles falling from his face.

⊹ “I MEANT BUBBA! NOT HUBBA!”

⊹ despite your efforts in justifying the accidental nickname, leo had twinkles in his eyes.

⊹ “i definitely heard you call me your husband.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

⊹ you folded i’m afraid.

⊹ “when did we have a wedding? i’m sure i’d remember you in white mami.”

⊹ gods, the wink. he gave you a wink.

⊹ HE DEFINITELY FLEXED IT AT THE SEVENS GANG.

⊹ “oh, i don’t know about you guys but i’m pretty sure (name) just called me her husband.”

⊹ “oh shut up you already told us that.”

ʚ JASON GRACE ɞ . . .

⊹ sunny day out!

⊹ y’all were out in new york for a totally normal mortal date, which you guys think you deserved by the way.

⊹ you guys we’re just out window shopping and coo’ing at old dogs that their owners had walked them out for, your hands interwined.

⊹ jason always caught a glimpse of your beaming smile whenever you waved at a dog passing by.

⊹ “where do you wanna go next honey?” he spoke softly, continuing your walking.

⊹ “mm.. coffee shop?”

⊹ the blondie shrugging his shoulders, mirroring the same grin his girlfriend had, he nodded.

⊹ excited to get some coffee, you don’t truly realize your choice of words,

⊹ “thanks hubba!—“

⊹ at first, jason and you don’t really realize it since at this point, you two we’re a married couple by the way you act.

⊹ the intimacy and the pure comfort of you guys.

⊹ from the rest of the sevens point of few, you two we’re like parents to them.

⊹ but he brings it up the minute you guys inhale the aroma of fresh brewed coffee.

⊹ “hubba?” he said in-between soft chuckles, a pink blush growing on his face as his nervousness starts to creep up his spine.

⊹ she grinned, “you like it?”

⊹ “love it.” and he kissed your cheek longingly.

ʚ FRANK ZHANG ɞ . . .

⊹ frank tackled you gently into a bear hug.

⊹ the poor boy was training until sunrise.

⊹ you giggled under your breath as he basically enveloped you in his embrace.

⊹ “you sleepy, baby?” you whispered, the giggles unable to be kept.

⊹ frank nodded while he nuzzled his face in your shoulder, just savoring the moment you guys we’re having together under the sunrise of camp.

⊹ “just sleep hubba.” you slipped out, but frank was unable to overhear. though, he truly, truly, did overhear.

⊹ he was too tired to react, keeping his face in your shoulder, but he let out a hum, a faint smile on his face.

⊹ “thank you love.”

⊹ “anything for you.”

⊹ though the moment he woke up, unsure to bring it up, he came up to you,

⊹ “you uh.. called me something, when i fell asleep.”

⊹ you cocked a brow, confused, then it hit you.

⊹ “OH! sorry— force of habit.” you grinned.

⊹ frank melted at your gaze, kissing your forehead, “maybe we should make it a normal habit.”

[igotanidea]

Shunning: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason comforting reader cause her friends ostracised her.

A/N: hopefully this will put a smile on the face of everyone who felt back for being rejected in any form it may come.

***

They were madly in love, there was no denying that.

But not in a lovey-dovey kind of way that was reserved only for the time they were alone and felt safe enough with the other to let that side out. It was rather mercilessly-teasing-not-really-meaning-all-those-mean-words-coming-out-of-my-mouth-cause-only-I-can-do-that manner.

However, there are boundaries to every relationship.

Especially when one of the parts in couple is a infamous vigilante/antihero.

And ever since the beginning Jason made it very clear that Y/N was not supposed to visit his apartment when he was not there. It was his duty to keep her safe. At all costs. And since sometimes it happened that due to lack of strength after patrol he just crashed his regular flat instead of safe house, no one, no one, was allowed to connect Y/N Y/L/N to Red Hood.

No fucking one.

Even if it meant giving her the spare key as a sign of commitment (but only because Jason tended to lost his own too often), but also simultaneously pushing her away by making the hereinabove mentioned rule.

Yeah… it hurt.

But she understood.

She understood all the rules and boundaries and safety precautions coming from being with him and if that’s what it took to call him hers – so be it.

So normally she stuck to the principles.

But—

***

8 a.m.

It was one of the hardest patrol he had ever had, but some kind of crazy instincts made him push forward and patch himself up at the nearest lair. Which wasn’t even his in the first place, but that was something Grayson would never know. And also- besides the point.

The fact was, though, that he came back to his  official address (official for someone who was still legally dead, of course), dressed in regular clothes and without blood stains with plasters all over his face.

Planning to maybe call his girlfriend so they can spend the nice day together.

Hoping to see her teasing smirk and eyes rolling, knowing she was the one to match his sarcasm, give him hard time making this relationship a challenge for him, which was exactly why she fell for her in the first place. Or maybe it was the fact that underneath all that rough-around-the-edges surface they were so similarly sensitive on the inside it made it easier to connect on so many levels.

Lost in his thoughts he opened the door and immediately knew something was wrong.

Energetic music coming from the kitchen.

Some crazy (DELICIOUS!) smell.

And the opened curtains that make the dim Gotham light permeate the room.

The hell?

Jason grabbed his pistol from the shoe (regular clothes or not, forewarned is forearmed) and busted into kitchen, grabbing the intruder by the arm, pointing the gun to their head.

“Auch! Fuck! Jay!”

“Y/N!” the gun landed on the floor and she immediately kicked it away, so it wouldn’t fire on her leg or foot.

‘Well morning to you to!”

“The hell you doing here?!”

“fucking breakfast!”

“What?!”

The scene was truly grotesque.

Boyfriend and girlfriend, who were, may I remind you, madly in love, standing on the opposite side of the kitchen, one of them clearly in need of some loving and rest, the other offering exactly that and yet they settled on yelling their surprise out at one another.

“I’m gonna ask you again- what are you doing here?” Jason almost hissed, his own protective and possessive instincts kicking in in a Red Hood style.

“I told you-“ she became a little defensive, but sure as hell not submissive or humble.

“Y/N!”

“Stop yelling at me Jason!”

The way she accentuated the last word, his name, made him stop for a moment, groan in frustration and run hand over his face, almost poking his eyes out. Right. He was Jason now. Her Jason. And she didn’t deserve the aggression and violence (she had her fair share of that coming from men).

“Okay, fine. I won’t yell. But explain to me.”

“I needed you—” she finally whispered.

Any other guy would just melt at such sweet confession coming from the loved woman, but Jason? Nah. He was way more perceiving and knowledgeable about her quirks.

So he noticed.

Her sad eyes.

Her nervous energy.

Her feigned smile.

And the fact that she not only just made him his favorite breakfast but also was currently keeping an eye on the blueberry muffins in the oven.

“Y/N….” he said calmly to get her attention.

“Yeah, huh, what’s wrong?”

“I should be asking you that question…”

“What you mean?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t trick me honey.” He warned with a grin and before she realized what was happening around her he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the living room, ready to coax, force or hug the truth out of her. No holds barred.

“My muffins!” she yelled struggling against his grip.

“Yeah, whatever, as long as we don’t need firefighters here I don’t care.”

He threw her on the couch sitting beside her.

“Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing really I –“

“you know I’d hate to be the therapist in this relation and steal the job you do for me, but for Christ’s sake Y/N, let it out.”

Okay, so he clearly did not think those words out.

And it was not his intention to make her cry.

Even if her snuggling into his chest made him feel like she actually needed him. Like she wasn’t always the tough, self-made, self-sufficient girl.

“Oh…” he gasped wrapping arms around her. “Shh… sh… it’s okay. I got you. I got you, you can tell me.” The mindless words were just coming out his mouth when he pulled her closer not caring about black mascara smudges on his favorite shirt. (which was old either way, so no shame in ruining it).

“Do you think I’m pathetic for being an introvert?”

“What?” he blinked a couple times, frowning and searching her face to make sure she was serious with that question “Since when you’re an introvert?”

“Jason…”

“Ok, princess listen to me. I have no idea from where that idea got into your pretty little head but-“

“My friends.” She stuttered wiping her eyes smudging makeup even more looking like a cute little panda and despite all the seriousness from her part Jason smiled for a moment considering the view adorable.

“come again? Your friends?”

“Yeah…” she sniffled “my friends. We were supposed to hang out last night, but when I reached out, cause I was feeling a tad lonely” she send him a look “they all respectively said that they are busy and tired and maybe another time.”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded “I got a feeling I know where this is going-“

“Believe me, you have no idea.” She rolled her eyes, sadness slowly making way to annoyance and frustration “not only they went partying, which I found out via Instagram, hashtag somuchfun, hashtag hotgirlsparty,  but also figured it was Allison’s bachelorette party!”

“That Alison?! The friendship bracelet Allison?!”

“yes! Can you imagine the audacity!? And she’s been engaged for months and everyone knew!”

“No way!” Jason gasped while they both acted at least like Hollywood wives gossiping about first world problems.

“Also, I have to say how much I appreciate you actually listening to all my silly girly ranting.”

“Of course baby” he kissed her forehead rubbing her back affectionately “but don’t tell it to anyone. Now seriously, all jokes aside, are you all right? I mean – not that I have much experience with friendship-“

“Roy.” She cuts him off with a firm voice.

“Ok, fine, fine! I’ll make peace with him!” he raised his hands in surrender “that’s not the point. You were straight forward casted out! Ostra-fucking-cised! And the fuck why??” now he was becoming a little angry.

“Cause clearly I’m a mood killer, no fun, tense, embarrassing, don’t know how to party-“

“WHAT?!”

“Jason?” she looked at him briefly “Jason! JASON! HELL! Put that gun down and get back here!” she yanked the back of his shirt pulling him back to the couch before he could something reckless and irreversible.

“Let go off me princess I have to-“

She started crying again.

“Oh god! Oh baby please don’t cry, I’m sorry-“ he cupped both her cheeks falling to his knees and wiping the tears away “Y/N, love, please I didn’t mean to –“

“There’s only one thing you have to do now.”  She calmed down at once, revealing that her tears were just another trick.

“Bloodbath?”

“What?! NO! You stay here and pamper me! Comfort me!” she smacked him on the head, soft enough to not make any damage. “Jeez! How many times will I have to teach you!? A girl, your girl is crying. What do we do then?” her voice was reminiscent of that of a primary school teacher

“We hug. We say nice words. We don’t let go until she feels better. We let her do all she wants cause she’s sad.” He answered mechanically.

“Very good, Jason” Y/N teased “gold star for theory, now can you please make it into practice?”

Ten seconds later she was wrapped up in his strong arms, with one of his hand cradling her head and brushing the strands of her hair, the other on the small of her back.

“For the record, I think introverts are cool. Seriously, the hell is wrong with the world making a false impression that you need to crash everyone just to get somewhere in life? Like I don’t know, make a name for yourself by being loud and show-offish.

“Jason…” she laughed and it made his chest reverberate

“What--? Oh! Hey! That’s not what I meant! We were talking about you,, not me!”

“Well you made me laugh, so good job on that!”

“You know what on the other hand, introverts are assholes. They are always quiet and listen and remember everything you say only to use it against you later on. Like little rat searching for the hole in everything.”

“Hey!” she poked his ribs

“Oh no, princess, that’s out the line!” he laughed rolling on top of her, tickling her. “You’re the most amazing introvert I have ever met, you hear me? Life is a constant party with you and your beautiful mind, ok? So what if they didn’t tell you about the bachelorette? I mean, sure it sucks, but I bet her fiancé is an ugly ork.”

“And how is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Cause baby believe me, once you get thrown a bachelorette I’ll make sure that not only Instagram but also all the magazines will be racing to get photos of that party. How could they not? The prettiest, most amazing girl in Gotham not being available anymore! Damn, Kardashians will get jealous of you!"”

“Are you asking me something here Jason Peter Todd.”

“You and your admirable fantasy.” He smirked kissing her forehead “I’ll leave you hanging, but tell me one thing. Do you really need fake friends? You already have a zombie boyfriend, isn’t that enough for you? Starring in a “Walking Dead”, now you also want “Mean Girls?” he faked indignation “so greedy!”

“Your impossible you know that?” she smiled at him, the first genuine smile since she came to his apartment.

“Hell no, I’m way more handsome than Tom Cruise!”

“Jason!”

“What? You wanted to be comforted, you can only get it done my style.”

“Hey. Hey look at me” she cupped his cheek so their gazes could meet.

“Yeah? What is it my sunshine and rainbows?”

“Don’t stop, okay?”

“Never.” He grinned. “You’re stuck with the tacky humor and dry jokes.”

***

And with a burning blueberry muffins

[regonold]

Ok normally i just send stuff like in asks but i liked my idea enough to attempt this so

Danny does a reveal to his parents and it goes badly his parents capture him and start dissecting and experimenting on him

Tucker and sam are out of town on family stuff and jazz is at college

So who notices Danny's gone for a few days? His rouges

So they meet up because what happened to the kid i mean they got free reign now but the kid was powerful where was he (definitely not because they were missing him no not at all)eventually they all decide to investigate the Fentons because they're theost likely candidates

So they investigate and find the horrific sight of danny pinned open with the Fentons experimenting in stuff about his body

So they do what any self respecting ghost would do they save him because ancients he's a kid no ghost deserves to go through that especially not a kid so they save the kid and take him to the realms to heal but he can't stay in the realms forever he's Human as well he needs human food and sunlight and water

So they Brainstorm who could look after the welp the 2 friends were out they lived in the same town as Fenton he'd be found in a second. Plasmus no just no they'd rather not

Then boxy give them a good idea what about a hero phantom was considered a hero wasn't he? So why not a hero they aren't in amity so the Fentons would have less chance to find them

But which hero who could help then walker has an idea the ghosts of criminal had talked as he was booking them there was a hero he killed he was freeing spirits who wanted revenge so it was decided danny would go to this hero

But they had to make sure this hero knew they were watching him so they made an entrance

-----------

The batfamily were having a family dinner it was as peaceful as a wayne family dinner could be: in short chaos

That changed when a swirling circle lazerus water opened up above the table releasing multiple figures who as one turned to jason

"Hero Redhood you have been chosen for a great mission." One of the figures said "your mission is to help the hero phantom" the 2nd figure declared "BUT BEWARE SHOULD YOU FURTHER HARM HIM YOU WILL FACE THE MIGHT OF THE BOX GHOST" the third figure yelled "if you harm the welp i will hunt the bat clans pelts" the large metallic figure threatened and with that the figures disappeared leaving behind a young boy with stitches all across his body

[echosbento]

AU where Jason lived, but only barely. People know that Jason is alive, tragically injured in a villain attack, but alive. Thing is, they don't know that the second Robin is alive. Bruce tells anyone that asks, the kid is alive, but he never says he's fine because Jason isn't fine, he's traumatized and disabled and angry that he had his choice to be a vigilante taken from him, but he's clear that the kid is alive. People don't believe Bruce though, they think he's in denial, because it's clear to anyone who had ever seen the two together that Batman saw Robin as his son. It becomes common knowledge that the second Robin died, there are even conspiracy theories that he died saving Jason's life, and Batman was too distraught by this to ever really accept his death. So when Tim meets Bats, he too thinks the second Robin is dead, it's the only explanation he can think of anyways, because no new vigilante ever showed up like after the first Robin disappeared. And then Bruce takes him to the manor, and Jason is just sat on the couch, mending Dick's costume because his useless himbo older brother can't keep a costume intact for twenty minutes, and he sees Tim and he gasps all fake dramatic "You're finally letting me meet my replacement?!" And Tim goes through all the stages of grief at once as he realizes he never once even considered Jason being the second Robin, not even after he found out Batman was Bruce Wayne.

The potential, Jason loving Dick but hating him at the same time because Jason was forced into retirment and Dick gets to pick and choose when he wants to be a vigilante. Bruce realizing how few rights permanently disabled people have and deciding to fight to fix it and Jason yelling at him for not caring until it was his family being effected. Jason realizing if he ever loses Bruce's support he's totally screwed because he can't do any of what he used to to keep himself alive anymore, and breaking down because how could he possibly help the people like him when he couldn't even help himself anymore? Jason being obsessively over protective of Tim and every sidekick who comes after him because he's terrified one of them will end up like him and they're just kids they don't deserve that. Jason overworking himself because he's convinced if he just Tries Harder he can get past his disabilities, but slowly learning his new limits and accepting them. Just, permanently disabled Jason man.

[yjcorefourenjoyer]

THE LONG AWAITED PART 2

last time:

Tim: “if you kill the joker now your chance at revenge ends and hell’s begins, death is a mercy he doesn’t deserve. keep him alive, show him what hell wishes they could.”

And there’s just horrified and concerned looks from everyone in the room. ————————————————————————————————

Tim went back to what he was doing before,

Oblivious to everyone looking at him like he’s crazy and going “when was Tim this dark???” In their heads. he had no idea anything was wrong, until Jason turned and started yelling at Bruce.

“THAT WAS AN OPTION!?!?! WHY DID I GET IN TROUBLE FOR THE KILLING IF THIS IS WHAT THE BABY BIRD IS DOING!”

Bruce didn’t respond, still analyzing Tim’s words. So dick decided to pop in with his own answer

“First, killing is wrong and so is what Tim’s saying second, Tim Wth”

Tim just turned to looking at him with confusion, before his face flushed as he realized what he said,

“.…….did I say that out loud?”

——————————————————————————————————

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 

As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.

And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.

It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 

No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).

But now, things are different.

He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 

He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  

Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  

So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 

But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 

Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.

- 

“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.

“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 

Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 

And now, you were about to destroy it. 

Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 

It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 

See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.

And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.

Hellfire’s page.

And it was perfect. 

The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.

Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 

You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-

“What are you doing here?”

Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 

“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 

“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.

Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”

“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 

Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working—but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”

“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 

Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.

“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 

“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”

“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 

“But the distributors don’t close until six-”

“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 

“Well, n-no-”

“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.

Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 

Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”

You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?

“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 

Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”

You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”

Everything was not perfectly okay.

Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 

-

It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?

There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 

Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”

Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?

“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.

“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 

“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 

“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 

The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.

A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.

But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.

Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.

“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”

You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”

You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.

“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 

Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.

“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”

The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 

And no one was noticing. 

“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”

Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 

“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 

Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.

And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.

“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”

Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 

Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 

“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”

“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.

“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.

“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.

“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 

Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”

While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 

“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”

Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 

You were off. 

You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.

“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 

“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 

Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.

“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”

You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.

“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 

Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.

“Okay, I want you to-”

“What are you doing to her?!”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 

Jessica fucking Lewis.

“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”

“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 

But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 

-

Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.

And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.

While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).

See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.

As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.

But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  

The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.

Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 

“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”

Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”

“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.

Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”

Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.

“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 

Eddie had had enough. 

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”

“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”

Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.

Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 

Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.

“What?!”

Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.

“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 

“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 

“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.

“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”

“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”

And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”

The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 

Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.

You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”

No malice, no anger, no fury.

Just pure defeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!

(Big, fat kisses to all of you) @televisionboy @batkin028 @lostdreamingwallflower @cevais @myfavoritesareproblematic @btbabyy @married-to-the-music01 @super-nova-03 @deathnote6666 @cherrytc @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @averagestudent03 @freakymunson @princess-eddie @imagine-a-world-blog1 @negativity4you

@nope-thanks @allsortsedits @callingmrsbarnes @f0rgggg @hurricane-abigail @sweet-sunflower64 @redlovett @goldstars-to-all @eddiesguitarskills @goslytherin @sashaphantomhive @maxinehufflepuffprincess @emeritusemeritus @angel-upon @middle-of-the-earth @scarletwitchwhore @my-tearsricochet @pixiepaintt @ericasdumbworld @animechick555

@gewrgia-black @hookandchain @roseanddaggerlarry @prestinalove @sebismyhubby @maddsunn

(I’m so sorry, some blogs are not popping up when I try to tag y’all, if it’s an issue on my part, I’ll try my best to fix it as soon as possible)

[jasonbrenner]

if u saw a post saying i would do something rn no u didnt x

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DP x DC prompt. ~“Unstable connection”~ Dead on main.

Part 9.3. "A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." — Elbert Hubbard

~~~~~

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Part 8. Part 9. New: Part 9.1. Part 9.2. Part 9.3.

Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Meme break №1. Part 13.

Roy: Look, I’m deeply flattered that you decided to talk about your feelings with me because you bats are allergic to them, but you’re seriously telling me that you’re texting a guy from out of Gotham? What for?

Jason: Do I need a reason?

Roy: Usually not, but I know you’re paranoid.

A cookie flies straight into Roy’s head.

Jason: Shut up. I know how to relax. He’s just a guy. No harm from boyf- a friend.

Roy: What you see in him? No, I rather have to ask how he tolerates you. I deserve a reward for being your best friend.

Jason: Hey, actually, I like Bizarro a lot more, just so you know, jerk. And we actually have more in common than it seems. He gets along with dead people who hang out in his town a lot. And.. I don’t know, okay? It’s just easy to talk to him, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would yell if he found out about me something weird for any other stranger. He feels like home. Safe one. I can rest when I talk to him, you know?

Roy: So you trust him? With everything?

Jason: I’m not an idiot and I’m not going to reveal everything until we talk offline. I don’t even know if I want to. Of course he’s not afraid of the undead from his town and he didn’t convict Hood for his actions when I asked him for his opinion, but talking about a specific person and some vigilante from the shadows is different. I don’t want him to be afraid of me or be disappointed in me. But somehow part of me believes that he will take this side of me. I sent him a picture with knives on my thighs, and he didn’t care. And one time, I messed up the chats and I sent him a threat that was meant to check on my new guys. He yelled at me. Because I could be reported to the police.

Roy: Well, if you like him, just try not to screw it up.

Jason: I’m trying. And by the way if Dick finds out about our conversation, I’ll throw you in the river.

Roy: Dude, you’ve known me for years! I bet you don’t threaten your lover like that! Have some trust.

Jason: Okay. So, I don’t know what to do, Roy. Fenton is perfect. But he’s a civilian. Phantom looks dead handsome but I know almost nothing about him. And what I know I learned from Danny. And now the fic that I’m writing is full of adult-rated scenes. Of course, I don’t add them to my work on ao3, but it’s still so weird.

Roy: Have you tried sending this to Fenton? With any luck, he’ll take it as flirting.

Jason: What? Hell no! He thinks I’m a mercenary for Red Hood. He’s gonna think I have wet fantasies about my boss and I’m gonna lose all self-respect, and he’s gonna block me and...

Roy: Okay, okay, slow down a little. We both know you’re weird, but you’re not that weird. And he’s not even your boyfriend. So his opinion doesn’t really matter.

Jason *whispers*: He's my husband. And it does.

Roy: Dude, I mean, I support your vibe but isn’t this guy supposed to know that he’s gonna have the title of the husband of a crime lord first.

Jason: Fair.

~~~~~~~

~Next morning~

Dick: So, I heard my Little Wing has a boyfriend. What’s his name? When are you bringing him to the family dinner?

Jason:…I’m gonna kill Harper. ~~~~~~~

Bizarro *on his way to tell all to Artemis and impress his good friend’s boyfriend*. First, he can leave a Red Hood doll by the window of a couple of his friend. It’ll help him understand that Bizarro isn’t dangerous and then the boy will want to be his friend too. Good plan, Pup Pup!

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Prompt #7

Robin is heretofore thought to be alone when he swings his katana behind him, almost catching the Adam's apple of his mother's new lover.

"Whoopsie!" Danny says, taking an agile step back, as if Robin's slice was a slip of the hand rather than a deliberate and likely fatal attack.

"What are you doing here," Robin demands, mask hiding the momentary widen of his eyes. No one sneaks up on the heir of Batman, least of all his mother's latest toy.

"I wanted to chat, just you and I," Danny says, as if they are standing on a sidewalk and not the rooftop of a forty floor building in the dead of night, Robin in full costume. "I know you were kinda caught off guard yesterday night."

"I was not caught off guard."

This is a lie. Yesterday night when Talia had appeared at the latest Wayne Charity Ball as the date of Daniel Fenton, an up-and-coming name in renewable energy, Father's dumbfounded look had been nothing less than genuine.

And even the Annoyance had choked on his non-alcoholic champagne when Talia had instructed Damian to greet his "new stepfather".

"Talia," Danny had said levelly, running a hand over hers placed delicately in the crook of his arm, "Remember how we were going to break this gently?"

"Darling, Al Ghuls do not require a gentle break," Talia had replied.

"What is happening," Tim had quietly muttered, squinting at the contents of his glass suspiciously. "What."

Tonight Danny is as calm as he was the previous night, looking amused if anything. Damian resists the urge to take another swing at him. Mother would probably not like that. Danny's affections towards her had seemed quite genuine, his eyes often on her with a light Damian reluctantly recognized from Grayson's many dalliances. And dare he say it, Mother had seemed to reciprocate.

"My mistake. Still," Danny says, "I was hoping to speak with you alone."

"I do not require another father," Damian says promptly. This is true. He already has a father, and a Grayson, and the other annoyances, and Alfred. "And you should not be speaking to a...minor...without their guardian present." He does not like saying this, as he is fully capable of being his own guardian, but Dick had been adamant once updated by Tim and Barbara that should Damian come in contact with Danny alone he was to say as such. He had extracted a promise from Damian after a high-pitched lecture via video call going on nigh an hour. Damian had been waterboarded, twice, and would have preferred a third time to one of Grayson's seminars on "stranger danger" and "parental custody". It had prevented him from going on patrol with Batman, who had left shortly after the gala, presumably to meet with his mother.

Batman had not succeeded, returning without a word. Red Hood, cackling, had pulled up behind him to congratulate Damian on his new "daddy" and loudly tell Oracle how Bruce had gotten an eyeful. An eyeful of what, Damian wasn't sure, and asking only made Jason laugh harder and Dick yell from the Batcomputer.

"Good thing I'm speaking to Robin, then," Danny says with a grin. Damian updates his mental file on the man to less of a goody two-shoes than previously thought. "And like I said last night, I'm not here to overstep."

"Then?" Robin asks crossing his arms.

"You and I are a lot alike, actually," Danny says. Despite the chill of the night, wind whipping at his hair, he seems very comfortable in his t-shirt and jeans.

Damian scoffs and Danny holds his hands up.

"Okay, I deserved that one. What I mean is, and bear with me here, I had a lot going on when I was your age, and my parents weren't always super...present. Their work kept them pretty distracted as we got older and more independent."

The background check they'd run indicated Danny's parents were scientists, his sister a therapist and women's self-defense instructor. The man himself had nothing remarkable on his record beyond a public intoxication charge in his early twenties, but that hardly meant anything. Talia Al Ghul's public record was nothing short of exemplary, one of the many facts that had made the judge reluctant to grant Bruce full custody.

"And listen, I know the way I was raised in the midwest is vastly different from your upbringing, and comparing the two would likely be condescending and a disservice to you, but I also know that while I liked my independence, I wish I had been able to talk to my parents more when things got tough."

"I fail to understand what you are saying," Damian says flatly. "Are you instructing me to speak to my parents as you believe I am having a hard time? And your basis for this incredibly incorrect hypothesis is you were once a teenager whose parents were neglectful? Also, this is certainly overstepping."

Danny's smile is sheepish. "It is, isn't it?"

Damian turns to leave.

"What I'm trying to say," Danny says loudly. "Is that I intend to stay in Gotham. I have some things I need to see to here so I'll be here a while.

"And this is important to me because--"

"Talia will be staying." When Damian continues to stare at him blankly, he clarifies: "With me. Here. I mean, we definitely will go on a honeymoon at some point, even though I'm not sure we're actually married no matter what Talia says about that ceremony--"

"Tt. Grandfather will never let Mother simply galavant around."

"You don't need to worry about Ra's any more," Danny says, straightening. His voice is firm and certain. "He won't be bothering you or your mother."

"That's impossible," Damian says sharply.

"You can ask Talia yourself." Danny pulls out a card. "This is the hotel we're staying at. Room 805. You are right that you definitely shouldn't come without your father's permission, but if he's alright with it please feel free."

Danny takes a step closer, and if Damian's quick grip on his katana bothers him he doesn't show it.

"I mean it Robin. I'm not saying Talia's going to petition for joint custody, and I'll make sure Batman knows that as well. I just want you to know she's here. If you ever want to...see her."

He holds out the card until Damian plucks it from his hand with a growl.

"And also, Damian?"

"What?" Damian snaps.

"Your mom talks about you all the time. I think she'd like to see you too."

"Tt." Damian says, eyes darting down to the card. When they flick back up, Danny is gone.

Damian pulls a quick 360, sword drawn, but the man is nowhere to be seen.

"Robin," Batman says in his comm. "Need you on the west docks."

His comm line was open the whole time, he realizes, but Oracle is uncharacteristically silent. A further investigation shows no time has passed since Danny arrived at the roof. Only the card clenched in his fist indicates he was ever there.

"On my way," Damian says, sheathing his weapon.

Hmph. Of course. His mother is no fool, least of all in her selection of lovers.

Upon arriving at the cave later that night, Damian exits the clock at the rear of the group.

"Father," he says as he clears the threshold. "I wish to spend time with Mother and Stepfather at their earliest convenience. Perhaps tomorrow after school."

Everyone stops still, turning to look back at him. Tim pauses mid-stretch, Steph's jaw drops, and Cassie smiles pleasantly at him. Even Alfred, a tray of freshly baked cookies in hand, blinks at him.

Bruce's mouth opens and closes, wordlessly.

"Absolutely not!" Dick Grayson screeches from the other end of the hallway, dufflebag in hand. Behind him Jason grasps the doorway, doubled over in laughter.

[elliespassagerprincess]

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 2)

Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Milf Abby who tries really hard to talk to you but you’re making it so fucking difficult.

☆ Milf Abby who tries calling, texting, literally all forms of communication but you leave her on read and you don’t even pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who’s frustrated but she knows she deserves it.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up one morning to see you sent her a text.

With shaky hands she clicked on the message. The simple text read 4 words:

“me, you this Friday?”

Abby blinked, and she sat in silence for a while.

Holy shit this was happening.

She responded with a simple “ok ill pick you up at six”.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up from her bed and yells “I got the girl!” But soon regrets it when Aubrey walks in and tells her to shut up.

☆ Milf Abby who was on cloud nine all week.

☆ Milf Abby who tells her coworkers about the pretty girl she’s going on a date with on Friday.

☆ Milf Abby who smiles at you, when she picks up Aubrey, and her heart feels like it could explode when you give her a little wave.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey what your favorite color is because she wants to wear an outfit in that color, because she read in an article it’ll increase her chances.

“C’mon baby tell me” Abby groaned.

“Give me chocolate first”

Abby’s jaw dropped.  “Aubrey its 9pm, you know you can’t eat chocolate at this time”

“No chocolate, no color”

Abby let out a sigh as she walked out of Aubrey’s room to her secret chocolate stash. She pulled out a chocolate bar, and she gave it to the little girl. Aubrey immediately opened the bar and she took a big bite.

“ok talk”

“she likes green” Aubrey spoke with a mouth full of chocolate.

☆ Milf Abby who takes her daughter to bed, and orders a custom suit in green.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and finds out they hired someone new.

“Who is he?” she asked while looking at Nora.

“I don’t know man”

“as long as she doesn’t break my record”

Nora rolled her eyes “of course he won’t abs, you’ve won the most cases in this whole firm”

☆ Milf Abby who tenses when she sees who was hired.

☆ Milf Abby who felt sick when he walked towards her.

“hi I’m- “

“heaters dad”

“Yeah” he chuckled “my name is actually Jason”

“I’m Abby”

The air was tense.

“what do you want dude” Abby said irritated.

“Look are you and the new teacher together?” He asked. Abby felt her eye twitch at his question.

“It’s none of your business”

☆ Milf Abby who thought her week was ruined, but when she got home her suit had arrived.

☆ Milf Abby who almost pees herself on Friday morning because today is the day.

☆ Milf Abby who takes the day off to get away from Jason and to relax.

☆ Milf Abby who spends hours on Pintrest to look for the perfect hairstyle.

☆ Milf Abby who’s ready by 3 in the afternoon.

☆ Milf Abby who asks Aubrey and her dad how she looks before she walks out.

“So how do I look?” she watched her dad smile at her.

“you look perfect Abby”

“now go get your girl!” she heard Aubrey yell.

☆ Milf Abby who made you a bracelet, and flowers out of paper.

☆ Milf Abby who sees Jason’s car outside the school.

☆ Milf Abby whose heart shatters when she hears your conversation.

“I’m going on a date with Abby” she heard your voice.

“Isn’t she too old for you? She’s in her 40s isn’t she?”

“what does age have to with anything?”

“she’s old”

yeah she was.

fuck, Abby knew too old. She didn’t even stay to listen to the conversation.

Abby ran out the school and she sobbed in her car. She should’ve know this would never work.

If only she stayed behind to hear how you defended her. If only she waited for you.

☆ Milf Abby who came home crying.

“Mommy what’s wrong- “Abby walked right past her daughter

“it’s ok let her go” she heard her dad say.

☆ Milf Abby who fell asleep crying.

☆ Milf Abby who wakes up with multiple texts from you.

“Hey where are you?”

“Abby?”

“are you ok?”

“I’m waiting for you”

“I’m home now”

“did you change your mind”

“Abby?”

With a shaky breath Abby blocked your number.

☆ Milf Abby who ignores your existence once again.

☆ Milf Abby who sees you smiling at her, but she just nods back at you.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you have no future together.

Aubrey climbed into the car, and before Abby could drive away she heard a knock on her window. It was you.

“Hey” Abby said after lowering the window.

“Hi Abby- “

“call me Mrs. Anderson” she watched as your face dropped.

You cleared your throat “I’m sorry Mrs. Anderson, I just wanted to ask what happened the other night?”

“I realized that this wasn’t going to work”

“why?”

“because you’re too young. I need someone more mature”

“Oh”

Abby could feel the sadness radiating off you.

“You should go for someone your own age”

“Ok Mrs. Anderson, I understand. Thank you for your time”

☆ Milf Abby who feels bad after her daughter calls her stupid.

☆ Milf Abby who makes a realization by the help of her daughter.

“You made my teacher sad”

“Aubrey I don’t care stop telling me- “

“you do care. I see the way you look at her” Abby sighed at her daughter’s answers.

She does care. She downloaded social media to stalk you. She stared learning internet slang for you.

“Heathers dad said that he wants to ask her on a date-”

“what?”

“I heard him say that he’s going to ask her out but then I said no because you wanted to go on a date with her”

Then it clicked.

He was there that day to cause trouble.

fuck.

He wanted to get into Abby’s head. And he did. He started working at Abby’s law firm to watch her. To figure out her moves. Her weaknesses.

He must’ve heard her and Nora talk about the age gap. She made a mistake.

☆ Milf Abby who runs to unblock your number and calls you.

☆ Milf Abby who felt like she could cry when you didn’t pick up.

☆ Milf Abby who whimpers your name when you eventually pick up the phone.

“what do you want Mrs. Anderson?”

“No look I made a mistake, please listen- “

“you can’t keep doing this….You say you like me then you ghost me- I’m sick of your shit Abby”

“look I heard Jason say that you deserve someone younger- “

“well maybe I do”

Abby went quite at that.

You spoke up again: “I need someone who’s mature, someone who can communicate but what do I know Abby I’m immature, am I not? Because apparently you know what that maturity means”

“Please” she sighed.

“Please I’m begging you” Abby begged again.

The line went quite for a while.

“Come to my class tomorrow so we can talk”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to work the next day and she goes to Jason’s office.

☆ Milf Abby who confronts him, and almost beats the shit out of him when he calls her a grandma.

☆ Milf Abby who gets into trouble but it was worth it.

☆ Milf Abby who goes to your class later that day.

She watched as you sat behind your desk. “Sit” you commanded and she did.

☆ Milf Abby who tells you the whole story.

“sorry won’t cut it Abby, you said the same thing the last time”

“Just because he said that doesn’t mean you have the right to ghost me”

“I’m sorry”

“Look just one more chance please”

“why should I trust you?”

“because I’m me”

You rolled your eyes at Abby’s response.

Abby reached out to grab your head, and your head snapped in the direction of you interlocked fingers.

“words mean nothing” you spoke.

“just trust me please and-” but before she could finish you leaned in to kiss her.

It was slow, passionate, and it was filled with so much love. Abby pulled away, only to get up and walk to side of the desk where you sat. She went on knees and she and put her hands on your waist. The two of you started at each other.

“Fuck” she breathed before you kissed her again.

☆ Milf Abby who jumps up when she heard Aubrey yell “ew!”

☆ Milf Abby who was really embarrassed.

☆ Milf Abby who turned as red as a tomato, she felt like a teenager being caught in the act.

“Why did you go on your knees?” you asked, still heavily breathing.

“it’s a way of showing submission” she shrugs.

“I’m trying to show you that you have me, despite our age difference” Abby explained.

“I’d let you do anything to me” she confessed.

☆ Milf Abby who goes home that night and smile the whole time.

☆ Milf Abby who keeps touching her lips, because yours were there.

☆ Milf Abby who apologizes to Aubrey for seeing such an act.

“It’s ok” the little girl reassured her.

“Now go get her before Heathers dad does”

☆ Milf Abby who shows up to school the next day to bring you lunch.

☆ Milf Abby who spells out the words “May i be your girlfriend?” with different fruit in the lunch box. All you did was smile at the sight.

☆ Milf Abby who was chewing her nails, waiting for your response.

“This is very romantic Anderson” you spoke. She watched as you but the lunch box on the table, you walked towards her.

“Get on your knees Abby” and she did so immediately.

“Why?” she asked while being on her knees.

“you’re too tall, I can’t kiss you when you’re standing”

The two of you shared a quick kiss.

“So is it a yes?” Abby asked, her lips inches away from yours.

“Yeah”

“Fuck yes” she breathed as she got up, picking you up and placing you on your desk. The two of you shared another kiss before you pulled away.

“Promise me something”

“What?”

“No more ghosting”

“yes ma’am”

“you’ll tell me if you feel insecure”

“yes”

“and one more thing Abby”

“what?”

“you aren’t too old for me. I like my women mature” you added as you wrapped your arms around her neck. Abby chuckled.

☆ Milf Abby who wanted to kiss you again before she heard your daughter yell “fucking finally” as she stood at the door.

“Who taught you that word?”

“grandpa did”

“of course he did”

☆ Milf Abby who was the happiest women ever, since that moment.

☆ Milf Abby who knew you were the one.

☆ Milf Abby who already goes wedding ring shopping and who plans your future together despite only dating you for 2 days at that point.  

My pookies (the tag list): @mousymaven @lia-winther @zombholic

[dearramiel]

billy desperately trying to babytrap his girl after she tries to break up w him🤭

This is so good.

✧ - baby trapping, subconscious manipulation, verbal abuse, violent!billy, billy is overprotective, obsessive, and possessive, implied stalker! billy, mentions of billy beating up jason tommy h & some other guy, controlling behavior, toxic relationship, gaslighting, guiltriping, unprotected sex( piv), breeding, cockwarming, mentions of tampering with birth control but it doesn't actually happen, hint of fluff at the end,

Billy's infatuation with you starts the very first day he looks at you, a beautiful, shy, charismatic girl who he could bend at will. He knew he would have you, it wasn't even a matter of how but when.

He was good at orchestrating everything, from the very first time you talk, the heated kisses, and first time hooking up. Billy wasn't your first, but you sure as hell felt like a virgin the first time you took him. He made you feel good, loved, he was sweet, caring, and charming. Just two months in, everything had changed. From the very beginning he knew you were different than other girls he had been with, he never had a girlfriend, and it hit him like a shock. He started acknowledging how much depth his love went, at first it was just him messing around with another girl, but he had gone way off track.

It was hard not to, you had been the only girl to care for him, rather than his dick. You were different. You treated him different than any other person.

It wasn't all on him anyway, you weren't stupid, you knew what Billy's intentions were from the beginning, he'd never once talked to you, but it began to get hard to let go when he kept you around, not shoving you through his window after hooking up, not pretending like you didn't exist when he walked by you at school, offering rides after he proposed in exchange for him to be lenient on Max being late, or even how he had stopped going after other girls.

Everything was so sweet, until he let the intrusive thoughts in.

He started asking who the people you talked to were, walking you to classes you didn't have together during passing period, insisted on driving you to work after school, picking you up and dropping you off home.

Eventually his obsession turned violent, going after Jason Carver after finding you two together during a pep rally, a big misunderstanding that could have been avoided had he just asked what you were bringing to him.

Billy had become somewhat self aware of what he was doing, quickly becoming insecure, and hateful. But he couldn't help it, because he genuinely loved and cared for you, he wanted you all to himself, this sweet girl who let him in. He was good at guilt guiltriping you with that, telling you how much he loved you.

It made you feel restless, having to make sure you weren't talking to specific people he didn't like, making sure not to stare too long at some other guy, spending all your free time with him, letting him know that there was a test you had to make up before going to work. You felt like your life was being controlled, and inviting him over while no one was home was your biggest mistake.

Spring break had just started, it was a Saturday evening when Billy had received the call. Of course he'd pull up to his girlfriends house in under 10 minutes, especially when she gave the "It's important and serious.".

Billy was rapidly knocking on the door, yelling your name, and when you open to let him in, he can tell that something really is wrong.

You're spouting nonsense to him, being so annoying, talking about how he doesn't love you, and that he's obsessed with you. Part of which was really wrong, because Billy did love you. He just had this horrible way of showing it.

It doesn't take long for you to get him angry, he begins yelling back. Saying that Carver, Tommy H, and Smith deserved getting their asses flipped. To which you yell that he shouldn't go about fixing things with violence.

"I just can't do this."

And he snaps, eyes blurring, warm droplets falling to his neck, when he blinks he realizes that he's crying. And it has you shocked.

"What?" His voice is small and broken, it almost has you wanting to take back what you've said. But it's hard to do so, because he's scared you already.

"No, please no." He cries as he reached out to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your body, another act that shocks you, he's never been one to initiate affection. He's almost cradling you, "Can't lose you, please don't."

You're not sure if it's an act, one to lure you in, but you take the bait anyway. Because while the ideas of what he's capable of to the extent of his love terrify you, you also remember that you do love him too. That he's never once laid a hand, or ever been physically abusive to you.

"I'm sorry Billy, I didn't mean it. It's just, you scare me sometimes!"

Anguish breaks into his body, when the realizations kick in. It's a thought that's etched into his mind, the fact that you've thought about leaving him. The fact that you even said it.

"I'm sorry baby, let me make it up to you please.. I promise I'll take care of you." His tone sends shivers down your spine, it's the one he always uses, it messes with you subconsciously and you never picked up on it.

You nod your head rapidly, breathing in deeply when Billy's teeth gently sink into the flesh on the side of your neck. Your panting reels him in further, letting him take full control of your body.

You don't even know how you ended up on your back, in your room, and on your bed, both you and Billy fully nude. Both your bodies decorated with bites and love marks. You're crying into the air as Billy's cock is shoved into your aching tight hole. You can feel every inch of him, to the point where you swear you feel his tip hit up snuggly against your cervix, and Billy swears he feels it too, because he begins a brutal pace. Mouth stealing a heated kiss from you. Between the messy kiss, your stuttering moan fills his ears.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper, arms and legs wrapping around his body, pulling him to you, almost inviting him further inside you. He's reaching the deepest he can, he's never been or even felt so feral during sex. Both his hands were clenching harshly onto the pillow your head was rested on, he's using it as stability to continue thrusting so hard and fast, he feels like he's also about to cum.

"Yeah? Then cum, need to feel you all over me." The thought alone is enough to send you spiraling, a gush of liquid seeps out, drenching and covering his abdomen and cock in your cum. A long moan rips through you, your walls clamp so tightly around Billy that it only takes a couple more thrusts before his cock plunges into the deepest part of you.

"Fuuck! Babe'm gonna cum, cunt is all mine, gonna breed you so they know you're mine. You want that, don't you?" He groans into your ear, burying his face into your neck, your response is nonverbal, it's just you frantically nodding your head up and down before you decide to speak up.

"Yes! Please, Billy, want you to make me yours!" You babble, then it happens cum begins filling up your insides until you feel full. Billy's weight drops on you then, cum still spurting a few more times before he is absolutely spent.

You can feel him soften inside you, little bits of cum threatening to spill out. The feeling has you whimpering, it's then that Billy remembers he's still inside you. When he goes to lift himself up, a whine is heard from you.

"Billy.. no, don't go.. please. Wanna stay with you like this." You beg, your tired eyes droopy, your arms still holding him tightly.

"Not going anywhere baby. Love you so much." He slurs, high of sex, leaving kisses all over your face.

"I love you too, Billy.. so much.."

He had you right where he wanted you.

Those condoms he planned to poke holes into weren't really necessary after all.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. On your way home from work, you encounter an injured superhero. You have seen his secret identity. Now what will he do about it?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, verbal abuse, parental abuse, severe injuries

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One: Is that Trash or a Man?

There is calm chaos when working in the emergency room. You get used to the cacophony of beeps and alarms. Of moans, crying, screaming, and arguing. You get used to being on your feet all day and moving from task to task, from patient to patient. You get used to it because there is no other option. People need care and they need it now. You either step the fuck up or switch to a different unit. Or move to a calmer, cleaner, less crime-filled city. Calm wasn’t really my vibe. Maybe externally that’s what I portrayed, but internally my mind craves the chaos of the ER. It craves the chaos of Gotham. And the Gotham ER was an entirely different beast.

I finished nursing school about a year ago. A lot of my peers used it as an out. They went to more stable cities in New Jersey that had better funding and less chance of getting knifed in the staff parking lot. I was one of the only ones that stayed. I definitely was the only one that worked in the hospital. I couldn’t deny the demand for nurses was high, and the paychecks were even higher at Gotham General Hospital. And maybe some small pathetic part of my brain wanted to make the world a better place. I wanted Gotham to be a better place. Every day I worked. I convinced myself that how matter how shitty it got; I was making a difference. Even if it was only a handful of people in the grand scheme of things. 

I could convince myself that I mattered. That everyone mattered. That these people deserve more. They deserve better; they deserve a second, third, fourth, fifth chance. If I stopped trying to convince myself of that I know I would give up entirely. Seeing gunshot wounds, stabbings, overdoses, mutilations, burns, crushings, poisonings, beatings, day after day is a lot like erosion of the soul. Little by little it wears you down. You become jaded and jagged with time. Empathy becomes blame. Hope becomes desolate. Love becomes anger. The only thing you can do is gaslight yourself into thinking you’re making a big enough difference. That you’re helping enough people. After all, the brain can’t tell the difference between truth and irony. You tell yourself so many lies, you can start to believe them, right? 

Gotham City: 16 Years Ago 

“Dad, when is mom coming home?” My small voice asked. I was scared to make Dad yell at me again. I didn’t like it when I made him yell.

“She’s got stage four fucking cancer she is coming out of the hospital in a body bag, y/n.” 

I fought the tears that burned behind my eyes. Dad would get even angrier if he saw them. It was stupid of me to even ask. 

I felt him turn to me. His eyes bored into my skull. Quickly, I looked down at his feet. 

“Have you tried again?” He asked. His tone clipped. I knew he expected a timely answer.

Involuntarily, my fingers ruthlessly picked the skin around my nails. The sting was grounding in a way. 

“No, sir. Well yes, I have tried, but I… I failed,” the last word felt like a hot poker being placed through my throat. 

“Look at me.” Breathing became difficult, but I looked up at my father. He leaned his face close to mine. I could smell Jack wafting off him. “What good are you? What good is having healing powers if you can’t heal your sick mother?”

The simple hangnail became a chunk of missing skin. I lowered my head. Fighting back tears. 

“Sir,” my traitorous voice wobbled as I tried not to cry, “I keep trying but… I don’t think my power is that strong. I can close cuts, fix broken bones, but tumors are… hard.”

My father tilted his head back and laughed. Hard. He grabbed my wrist as quickly as a viper, “If I could put your mother’s cancer in you I would. You’re about as useful as a wet match in a dark cave.” 

I couldn’t help the tears that fell down my cheek. It felt like I was involuntarily waving a white flag.

Gotham City: Present Day

I had to be stealthy with my gift. I couldn’t heal every one of the patients to full health right away. That would lead to suspicion. But if I could help it I could stop the major damage. I would heal internal organs. Replenish blood. Reduce ten fractures to two or one. It all depended on timing and if people were watching me. 

I was walking home from the hospital. I only lived about three blocks away. I got off shift at around 20:49. I didn’t start my next stretch for another three days. And I was milking my walk home. Stopping to smell the roses or whatever. That is normally not a very smart thing to do in Gotham at night, especially as a woman. But part of me didn’t care. 

Earlier, I looked at my phone and frowned when I realized the date. 

Thursday, May 19th. 

My mom died 16 years ago today. Waves of emotion flooded my senses. Anger at myself for not remembering. Sadness that she had been gone more of my life than she had been in it. Restlessness for what my father might do or say. Some years he likes to reach out. Others he doesn’t. But most of all I was feeling reckless. Like I wanted someone to give me a reason. Obviously, I would only hurt someone to defend myself or others. But there was so much anger living in my body, part of me hoped some idiot would try something with me tonight. 

So, I walked home. Slowly. 

Normally, you keep your head down and you keep moving. You don’t look or gawk. You listen out of necessity. I was listening just because I could. It was the normal stuff. Men smoking cigarettes and catcalling. Women were offering their nightly services. Random people either praising or damning superheroes. Drug deals. Graffiti artists. Fights. And of course, people who simply were walking home from work. Gotham had range and was never boring that’s for sure. 

But something picked up on the very edge of my senses. Despite my better logic, I turned toward the very quiet sound. It could have just been rats, but it sounded so familiar. It sounded like a death rattle. The thing you hear just before shit hits the fan and the patient codes. 

Without thinking I ran down the alley toward the sound. At first, it was nothing. Just trash and rats. But then I saw it. He almost blended perfectly in with the shiny black garbage bags. His cape was the same color but reflected the light less. 

“Sir? Sir, are you alright?” I walked hesitantly forward, grabbing my pepper spray just in case.

The man did not answer, he only garbled and coughed. My work brain took over my fear. Instantly I rolled the man over and began assessing him. I suppressed a gasp when I rolled him over and a familiar cowl mask came into view. It was cracked down the middle. His face was bleeding from an unknown location. His breathing was labored and staggered. 

Calmly, I closed my eyes and pressed my hands against his chest. 

Oh yeah. Batman was dying. He had several broken ribs. A pneumothorax. A bruised liver, kidney, and pancreas. His cardiac output was a joke. The man had no perfusion. 

I didn’t think. I didn’t hold back like I do at the hospital. I just healed. And healed. And healed. I healed him down to his bone-on-bone knees, sprained ankle, and fractured wrist. 

God, this guy had a lot of injuries. 

I was close to passing out by the time I was done. I had done too much, ate, and slept too little. My powers were demanding when it came to energy. If I didn’t eat or sleep within 30 minutes I was about to pass out next to bat boy himself.

I gave him one last assessment. After double-checking that he would live and that I didn’t miss anything I finally looked at his face again. 

This time I gasped. Batman was the billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne? I shook my head like I was clearing cobwebs. I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Much like Batman, I didn’t want people to know what I could do. The last time people knew…

Just as I turned and took a few steps I rolled my eyes at my nagging thoughts. 

What if someone sees him before he wakes up?

Reaching into my tote bag I pulled out a black medical mask. I not so gracefully MacGyvered it across his exposed face so that it was covered. And with that, I made my way home.

My cat, Hashbrown, eagerly greeted me at the door. I nearly fell asleep locking it. I bent down to pick her up and gave her a kiss on her perfect little cat head. I ripped my gross work scrubs off, threw them in the wash, and crashed on the couch in my underwear before my brain could process what happened.

I healed Batman. 

I healed… Bruce Wayne?

Part Two, Part Three

[igotanidea]

We'll make it: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI!

So, she got accepted to that one Univerity faculty she wanted to attend since being a teen.

It was a dream come true, except for one tiny detail.

She was leaving.

For 3 years.

A thousand miles away from her boyfiend Jason.

And he never explicitly said it, but his eyes, his face, his entire posture that shifted from relaxed in her presence to terrified at the thought of loosing her, were speaking volumes.

And no matter how much she tried to assure him the two of them will survive it, regardless of the strength she put on for both of their sakes - nothing could ease his worries.

How would he survive without her by his side?

Who would he come back to after patrol to hold and love and snuggle with?

Whose laugh and tears and words and touch and humor and moodiness would fill his days?

But he knew he had to let her go.

It was her dream after all, and who he was to ever stop her from fullfilling it...

Nothing.

Just an outcast, outlaw, vigilante casted away and abandoned even by his own family.

He never deserved her in the first place and it was time to deal with it.

She were too good for him.

But that was never what she thought.

So the last night before the departure, when she was finishing packing her bags and he was keeping his distance, leaning on the doorframe trying to act casual and happy for her?

She couldn't stand it.

She hated the fact that he seemed to just ... give up. Let go of the fight. Surrender.

Red Hood would never surrender.

And Y/N Y/L/N wouldn't either.

"So, are you excited for tomorrow?" he asked with a fake smile

"I'm actually feeling a lot of things at the same time" she sighed heavily zipping her suitcase.

"I think it's pretty normal." Jason shrugged taking a step forward putting her luggage up to make it ready for the morning and that little, somewhat helpful after all, gesture made her mad.

Mad like he has never seen her before.

"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled but all she got in response was a surprised, indifferent look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"what do I--?" she stuttered, her eyes widening in shock. Was he for real? He didn'd care at all? "WHAT DO I MEAN?!!"

"Stop yelling princess, you're acting crazy."

"CRAZY!? I'm acting crazy to you?!"

"Ok, seriously, what the hell do you want from me!?" he spat back, getting annoyed by her behaviour.

"WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT FOR ME?!"

"Fight for you?" his eyes glistened with rage, but also something more, something she couldn;t quite decipher "you want me to fight for you, huh? Well be careful what you wish for cause if I start doing it--" he gritted his teeth stopping the sentence in the middle.

Y/N took a single look at his face. Narrowed eyes. Pursed lips. And then other telltales. Hard breathing. Rapid chest movements. Clenched fists.

"Jason..."

"FUCK!" he yelled, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to the kiss that was as intense as if he was trying to swallow her whole. His lips moving against her with the power and stoutess that resebled the fire consuming everything that happened to be on his path. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for her.

His girlfriend, his lover, his babygirl.

Who just finished collecting her things before flight.

Jason groaned grabbing her waist, squeezing her body in an iron tight grip, her whimpers only spurring him on, making him want more, making him want to tear her clothes off, pin her to bed, take her like an animal, make her stay.

Make her fucking stay.

But he couldn't.

And it made him stop and pull back in shame.

"Jason..." she gasped, feeling the emptiness when he moved away. Her hair were messy, eyes glassy, lips already swollen.

"I'm sorry princess..."

"Oh fuck you todd" she groaned rushing to his arms again, wrapping herself around him like a glove, needing his touch, his love, his lips, hands, everything.

She started the fire in him.

The fire he was trying so hard to contain while withdrawing and keeping his cool.

He wasn't anymore.

She was going away. There was no denying the reality. So if anything he could give her something to remember him by.

To rememeber them by.

"I got a little surprise for you..." she whispered pulling back to the point where he let her. Her hands locked with his, guiding them to the hem of her shirt signalling to pull it up.

And when he did?

The view that came to his eyes counldn't be compared with anything else. The sexiest, the most turning on, cock hardening red lacy lingerie made her look like a goddess.

"Fuck, Y/N." he tore the shirt off completely, tracing over her soft, warm skin, caressing her breasts through the thin lacy material.

"Say it..." she gasped feeling his kisses on her neck, his hands on her ass, pulling her closer.

"I don't want you to go."

"Show me."

"Oh I;m gonna show you."

Her pants were gone in a second, his fingers dipping under the material of her panties, feeling her wetness, going lower, depeer, harder...

"But not like this." Jason grabbed her waist and carried her to the bedroom.

Layed her down.

Kissed her enitre body.

Slowly unclasped all those tiny buckles, untangled all the strings, making sure that she felt each caress, each kiss, each sweet word whispered in her ear.

Moved slowly and tenderly.

Made love to her with so much care and intensity without going rough.

Looking straight into her eyes with each thrust.

We'll make it.

That was the message his gaze was conveing. One simple sentence that never had a chance to leave his mouth.

We'll make it.

"Yes..." she gasped tightening the grip of her legs on his waist, running hands down his back, pulling him closer, and they both knew that she didn't just refer to sex.

We'll make it.

And when the first rays of sun shone on the horizon....

When her lips brushed his forehead till the next time they were going to see each other....

When the doors closed quietly to not stir him awake...

Two hearts were still beating in the same rythm,

We'll make it.