#jason thoughts

[mosslikeschaos]

watching Captain America, so ofc im thinking about DC. ?

☆☆

Thinking about a tired Jason, who can't help but want to slump into the sofa and just sit in silence with his lover.

A tired and sore Jason who lays his head on their lap, sighing in contentment when they start running their fingers through his hair.

A now almost sleepy Jason who just hums when they ask if he wouldnt rather go to bed and instead of laying in the sofa watching something dull on the TV.

An asleep Jason, a little too tall to lay comfortably on the sofa without his feet falling off the edge.

A partner who rolls their eyes, covering him with a blanket, then resumes running their fingers through his hair. It comforts both of them.

Im thinking of a domestic Jason whos comfortable with his partner <3

[the-kr8tor]

oh m gee, THIS IS JASON TODD??

Phew🥵🪭🪭

YESSS THAT'S HIM, OFFICER! THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND!!!! 🥴

[implodingseltzer]

IANSKSNSKSJSJEJHSSJEJEHDJUDNDMDJSNEJDHBGVFCDDDCFVYGBUBHBUHBGVTFCRCRDCCCTVBBUGIBEUHBDBUDBUHDBDUHBDIUDBD6 I LOVE MEN I LOVE MEN I LOVE MEN EUSHJSHSHBHBSHHHSHHSHHDHBSHSYBHDBDHBHSHJSJJISIIISUUHEUDNHS FUCK

[paintedimagery]

This is stupid, I spent too long on this lmao

[frownyalfred]

things that make Gotham criminals say “oh shit”:

Batman showing up to the hideout and not asking any questions

Nightwing cracking his escrima sticks together with 0 witty banter or foreplay

Red Hood when his hands are shaking

Injured Robin and Batman known to be in near proximity 

Any sightings of Batman on Robin II’s death anniversary

Superman in Gotham without an escort

Batman speeding through the Narrows on a motorcycle and not the Batmobile

Red Hood abandoning his guns and throwing punches instead

Robin fighting with a sword and 0 supervision

Jim Gordon trying to quit cigarettes for the 19th time on the night shift

Any captured Batkid too injured/tired/frightened to taunt the responsible criminals

Batman bleeding and/or missing any major parts of his armor

Any Bat vigilante other than Duke outside during daylight hours

[prlssprfctn]

Imagine in the beginning, before Red Hood's goons figure out that he is a baby, they think he is a single dad of a bunch of kids, instead. And it is not like they are wrong, since he does parent all kids of Crime Alley, but they mean not them. They mean Bats, instead.

No one is sure how old Red Hood is. But they saw a single white streak of the hair once, so he is... old, right? And these Batkids, they always hang around him, whining and asking for something - surely, it is his kids? Right? That gotta be it.

Red Hood: Now, back to- Sorry, I need to take a call. Goons: Sure, sir. Red Hood: What... Oh my god, Red. What do you mean, you don't know how to wash the carpet without- Spoiled brat. Okay, listen to me, you first need to get a really hot water... Goons: That's definitely his son being in troubles.

(It was Tim, who accidentally ruined Alfred's favourite carpet. He was in big troubles that day.)

Robin, appearing on the doorstep of Red Hood's den: Scram. I am here to see Hood. Goons, staring at little Damian: Hm-m. Red Hood, pushing them away: Bad day? (Damian wordlessly raising his arms to be picked up by Jason) Okay. It is fine. Goons: Hm-m-M.

Nightwing, whining: You are so boring. Why don't you want to play Twister with us this Sunday? Red Hood, rolling his eyes: Shut up. Goons, overhearing the conversation: Kids, am I right? Red Hood: Huh?

Goons, watching Batman and Red Hood shouting on each other on the rooftop: Hey, do we think Batman is also his kid?.. Goons: (thoughtful pause) Red Hood, completely pissed off by his dad in the meanwhile: I am TIRED of you. Go back to your stupid ass CAVE and think about your behaviour. I don't want to see you AGAIN. Batman: But- Red Hood: OUT OF MY TURF. NOW!!! Goons, staring at Batman, who walks away sulkily: ...HM-M.

Red Hood, staring at the "Best Dad" merch, given him by his goons on his birthday: I am confused. Do they mean kids from Alley, or they view themselves as my kids... What does it mean? Uh. Whatever. It is kinda sweet. Red Hood, on the next day: Thanks, guys. Very thoughtful of you! Goons, high-fiving each other: Sure, boss!

[bluejayscrying]

I just woke up and somehow the only thought in my head was Jason Todd as an Etsy witch but he only sells ‘violent spells’ and instead of doing spell work he just personally goes out and beats the shit out of whoever you choose

[demonicsuffrage]

Bruce dropped out of medical school and as much as he tries to hide it, his kids all find out. Ofcourse they never let him live it down after that

Emo 21-year-old Bruce: You're not my father, Alfred!

Alfred: Quite right. I have a medical degree, and you don't.

Bruce:

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

Dick: Hey I'm dropping out of Gotham University

Bruce: What? You're quitting college halfway?! Unacceptable, you cannot just give up on your engineering degree-

Dick: I did not just hear the failed doctor say that

Bruce:

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

Bruce, fuming: You left my side tonight to go and gallivant around with harley quinn? A villain?

Steph: So what if she's a villain, Bruce? Atleast the villain has a doctorate.

Bruce:

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

Bruce, bandaging Duke's wound because Alfred was busy: There, all done

Duke: Woah, didn't expect that from a college dropout

Bruce:

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

Bruce: Stop ignoring my orders in the field! You need to listen, I have more experience-

Jason, as red hood, with his PhD in English: Which one of us actually has a Dr in front of their name?

Bruce:

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

Tim: So I'm dropping out of high school

Bruce: You too?! First Dick and now you?!

Tim: No, first it was you, then Dick, and now me

Bruce:

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

Bruce: Damian, your recent report card indicates you're falling behind in Biology

Damian: Tt. Must run in the family, then.

Bruce:

[fanaticalthings]

Bruce Wayne except he texts like an ominous boomer

wdym you can't tell if he's threatening them?

Based on this post by @mysterycitrus :)

<- Prev Masterlist Next ->

Bonus:

Happy birthday, Tim 🥰

[ashenquill]

[Tim and Jason watching Dick as he fakes his death for a mission]

Tim: Man, he really is peak pretty boy

Jason: Right? Like, stop serving while you’re dying. It’s disrespectful.

Tim: For real, like, at least YOU had your priorities straight.

Jason: Exactly, I—

Jason:

Jason: Now hold up just a second—

Tim: I mean, you looked like shit when you died

Jason: THE FUCK, TIM????

[the-kr8tor]

@x-reader-things here out of work for the day and honestly?? Time to project onto the reader- /lh /hj lmao- [I hope you don’t mind me sharing my thoughts I have a few and it’s been a while since I’ve shared some here!!]

Imagine cuddling w / Hobie or Ekko after work- or just being around them and ranting about your day to them-

Hell even Jason Todd [i am a Jason Todd and Tim Drake fan - Tim got to me first before Jason and I would not choose between either so they got two different OCs bc both deserve love]-

Overworked!Reader my beloved who would pace around after work ranting about stupid customers or managers w / o once stopping for a breath and then after a while they take a deep breath and sigh and then “ok I’m good—“

“You sure?”

“Yeah—“

Then cue whoever it is just opening their arms from either where they were standing or from their spot on the couch and then reader just latches onto them like a koala for a bit before they get up to get into comfy clothes and wash up-

Really wish I had that rn oml- < / 3

I have a cat, my lovely calico kitty- HOWEVER I HAD TO STOP HER FROM EATING SOME FOOD I BROUGHT HOME FROM WORK [it was a cupcake and ik they taste good but no they are not good for kitties to eat < / 3 ]

Oh wait also what if sometimes reader just thinks of something else they forgot to rant about and then goes off again-

Like-

“Oh AND ANOTHER THING-“

Cue whoever it is chuckling and just sipping on whatever drink they have and offering their commentary bc tea session is in and they are PREPARED to listen to their partner as always- plus it’s fun to hear them rant and help the reader let off steam-

Ok NOW thoughts are done-

Hihi angel!!! Yap session is open for business!! Please do send your thoughts I love reading and talking about them with my lovelies ❤️

Augh that sounds like heaven! Having an s/o who listens and is also your bestie is literally a dream come true!

Gasp! Another Jason Todd lover I see!

Imagine if they know what's coming just by how the sound of the door closing and how you toss your bag on the hallway and once they look at you looking all slumped and frownie they're already opening their arms and perhaps readying a pint of ice cream or something stronger if it's that kind of day 😂

KITTY!!!! I bet they're a cutie pie! Lmaoo kitty yearns for sugar

Lmao imagine that you're just sitting on their lap while you ramble away and they have hearts in their eyes while they listen 🥰🥰😍

[implodingseltzer]

I waannne fuck a haologram cnan I do that

Kendra saz thats icky gross but I miss Jaaayys I miss his cute face and wheughh I wanan kiss himn why did he have to diieiu

[sourkreem]

they decided to crash jasons place after patrol (jason did not agree to this)

[mostly-imagines]

Careless Accidents

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you get hurt and jason’s pissed

warnings: reader’s wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed too hard

You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.

You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like they’re in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.

Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.

“Hey,” Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. “We’re doing alright for ourselves,” she said smugly. 

“Yeah,” you’d nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did. 

“Okay listen, I think the flag—” what flag? “—is by the fountain so, I think because there’s three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.”

“We’re on teams?” you asked, no longer completely sure you know what you’re playing. 

“We are now!” she smiled, starting to run. “I’ll bait!”

She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, “Don’t trust Cass,” before scurrying away.

Rather than sit around and wait there for…something?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.

What you didn’t see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear. 

What you also didn’t see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. You’d mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.

Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.

“Are you okay?” she signs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” 

The response was instinctual and you didn’t actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it. 

You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. They’re savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern. 

“You good?” Tim asked, approaching languidly.

“That looked like it hurt,” Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.

Dick shook his head, “No, she’s okay.” He turned to you, prodding, “You’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m, um…” you winced, looking at your wrist. “It hurts a little.”

Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. “It might be sprained.”

Dick paled. 

“No.”

Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, “We can get it wrapped upstairs.”

“No.”

You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanie’s face, begging to break.  

“Ooooh. He’s gonna kill you.”

Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.

“You know I didn’t mean to grab you that hard right? I—” 

Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dick’s now-third explanation/apology for the incident. 

“I know, Dick,” you say, trying to appease him. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells you genuinely, but you can tell there’s more there that he isn’t verbalizing.

You nod, “I know, Dick. It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that she’s all done. 

You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.

He takes a deep breath, “What if…what if you avoid him until it heals?”

“Dick.”

He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes, 

He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.

“Are you going to tell him?” he asks, looking like he’s bracing for bad news.

You shake your head sympathetically, “No. I can’t guarantee you that he won’t find out, but I won’t tell him.”

Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. “Okay. Okay.” He stands, “I need to go.”

You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically. 

Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.

“I’ll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.”

Tim barks out, “Absolutely not.” He looks at his brother, still laughing. “No fucking way.”

Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. “Five.”

A deadpan from Tim. 

“You don’t have five thousand dollars.”

Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. “Dude, please! He’ll kill me!”

Tim scoffs, “He’d kill me!”

Dick huffs, “No, it’s different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?” 

“Well then it sounds like you fucked up,” Tim sneers.

“Oh my God.”

He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?

He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.

The latter sits up with a tense brow, “Master Dick?”

The former turns around in his seat, “What’s the matter?”

Dick struggles for a second before confessing, “I accidentally sprained someone's wrist.” 

Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. “Alright…you’ll have to take responsibility for their patrol duties—”

Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, “Said person doesn’t have any patrol duties to be affected...”

Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.

“I can’t help you.”

Dick’s panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.

Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, “You don’t think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?”

“I—I don’t know!” Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t know what to do!”

Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, “Dick, when you make a mistake…you have to submit to the consequences, you know that.”

Dick gapes, “This is not a normal consequence!”

Meanwhile, you’ve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jason’s childhood bedroom. 

You’re admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you. 

“Sweetheart?” Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.

“Hey, Jay,” you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.

He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you. 

Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back. 

You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. “How’s the bike?”

“Better than it was this morning,” he sighs. “Where’ve you been?”

He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you. 

You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. “Uh, we were outside, playing…at least three separate games at once.”

The second you’re in proximity, your hands join like it’s second nature. 

He nods, all too familiar with the family’s unique methods of gamefair.

“Did th—” He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. “What happened?”

You glance down, shrugging. “Overexerted myself playing tag.”

He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.

He turns your hand over gently, asking, “Is it sprained?”

You nod, relaxed. “Yeah. Cass said it’s mild.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“No,” you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. “Barely hurt then.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look satisfied with the conversation.

Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt. 

“You, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?” he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following. 

“Yeah,” you say gaily. “Alfred said he’s making his ‘special spaghetti’, apparently it’s a household favorite?”

He wavers, halfway to between decisions. “Yeah…”

He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. “Can I see it?”

You nod, happy to ease his mind. 

You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.

You both see it at the same time—the hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.

You’re both quiet for a second—him putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.

He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.

“Fucking idiot—”

You try for his hand but he’s out of reach before you can grab it.

“I’ll be right back,” he grumbles behind him.

“Jason—” you sigh, “At least help me wrap it back up first.”

He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.

You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. “It was just an accident,” you tell him. 

He scoffs, “It better have been.”

You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. “Jason. I’m not made of glass, you can’t expect other people to act like it.”

“I don’t. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he can’t do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

You sigh, “Just don’t do anything harsh. Please. I think he’s worried you’re gonna punch him.”

“He should be,” he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly. 

You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, “You’re not going to. Right?”

He doesn’t answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, “Right?”

His eyes roll, “Yeah, fine.”

You smile, holding his face. “I love you.”

He huffs as though he’s inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. “I love you.”

He looks you in the eye, face serious. “You promise me it doesn’t hurt?”

“I promise,” you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.

“Dick!”

The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.

He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes. 

“Where is he?”

Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding. 

Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.

He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. “Stephanie?”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “But let me know when you find him, I wanna see—”

But Jason’s moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.

He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.

There’s a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what they’re seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail. 

“Really? Really?” Jason shouts. 

“It was an accident! It was a fucking—” 

He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.

“Are you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherf—”

Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.

Dick takes a breath, “Dude, it’s fine now, it’s not that big of a—”

Jason recoils, “‘It’s not a big deal’? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!”

He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him. 

Dick throws his hands up in front of him, “Wait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?”

Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. “You can’t call a truce if you’re the only one who did anything wrong.”

“I…” It doesn’t take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option. 

“Please?” Dick asks, nothing short of imploring. 

Jason relents—slightly—upon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as he’d been planning to. 

“I told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hard—” 

Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. “I know, I know—”

“Clearly you fucking don’t!” Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. “You sprained her wrist. You’ve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?”

Dick grimaces, “I do! I do, I just screwed up, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t—” Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, “Did you apologize to her?”

 “Yeah, of course I did!”

For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body. 

The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.

It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, “Idiot,” before pushing him once more. 

“Jason.”

Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption. 

You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.

He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.

“I didn’t hit him.”

⭐️ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch ⭐️

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Legal Power

Batman: You can not punish the Joker

Batman: You are no judge, jury, and executioner

Danny Fenton, standing over Joker's beaten body: Actually, I am

Danny Fenton, raising the Creep Stick up: I am the High King of Infinite Realms, and this bitch has been resurrected more than once

Danny Fenton, smacking Joker like a piñata: With the use of a pool of some nasty smelling ecto, mind you, but it puts him under my jurisdiction nonetheless

Danny Fenton, smiling at Batman as Joker is wheezing and trying to crawl away: So I am the judge, jury, and executioner for him since I'm the highest power in a Realm where he is a denizen

Danny Fenton, catching the Joker by the ankle and dragging him back: And as the King, I hereby sentence him to death by a repetitive use of The Creep Stick over his whole body

Batman: ...

Red Hood, with a bowl of popcorn: Do you mind switching The Creep Stick for a crowbar?

[frownyalfred]

thinking about the expert masseuse Alfred hired for the family that is paid a small fortune annually to provide massage services and ignore so, so many things. No questions, no remarks, just quality service and an ironclad NDA that, if broken, would probably topple said masseuse’s entire family line.

Things Alfred is paying them to ignore, in no specific order:

Bruce’s spinal hardware courtesy of Bane :)

weird amounts of muscle on everyone, even the kids (despite them allegedly not working physical jobs)

scars

FRESH scars

the fact that every joint in Bruce’s body clicks when moved/manipulated at the tender age of 42

Olympic athlete level physiques

rotator cuff injuries across the whole family

scars that are definitely from bullets and/or acid splashes

old signs of what looks like torture (Bruce)

Dick’s entire left arm is basically screws and plates (he “fell really bad” once)

every single family member takes deep tissue massage with max pressure with 0 complaints

calluses

no really, the weirdest fucking calluses