#jasons just slightly more unusual

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

planning whats basically a borderline crack fic but my desire for characterization got me keeping jason as weird as he is in lost days

<- talia yeets jason into a 6th form[16-19 education] in england under the pretence of building a solid civilian cover. and i couldnt lose the hilariousness of him doing his hyper-analytical shit in the corner while surrounded by the most insane people in the county [its a special stem 6th form] like everyone thinks they are teaching the loner kid to have fun and loosen up while any type of reform of jason slides of him like water. his gossip game is insane tho. jason having not interacted with normal people for years ends up basing his interactions with normal people on the other students. he is banned from interacting with civilians by talia because 'most people dont watch in awe when you say you can kill someone 7 different ways. yes but they are all weird'

poor talia. she just wants this kid to have a break and loosen up. and she put him in the least normal non super/merc/assasin environment she could find

[prongsx]

Favors in exchange for kisses

warnings: kisses, English its not my first language, small mention of blood. f!reader

You don't know exactly how you got into this situation with Jason. But you're not complaining.

It started months ago, when your long-time friend Dick Grayson heard you complaining about not having a place to live and mentioned that he knew someone you could trust to share an apartment with, with his brother, Jason Todd.

You were hesitant to accept, after all, you didn't know Jason Todd, but this was Gotham, and finding someone you could trust to share an apartment with was almost impossible. And it would only be for a while.So you went to live with Dick Grayson's brother.

Jason was kind of quiet, mysterious, and his blue eyes left you a little confused and breathless. It took you a while to be able to have meaningful conversations with him, it was hard to learn more about him, but little by little you won a small space in his life.You discovered his favorite books, learned his schedule, understood how sometimes he didn't want to talk, other times he was more open, and you learned to appreciate those moments when you both talked, laughed and smiled softly.

Then came the biggest problem.

Jason was too helpful.

You simply didn't know how to deal with someone who did so many acts of service. When he found out that banana pancakes were your favorite, he woke up early and cooked them. When you complained about that wood that was making noise in the living room, he fixed it immediately. Even when carrying your bag down the street, he would magically appear and hold it. Your coffee was always with those three drops of milk, just the way you liked it.

And when you tried to reciprocate, he seemed almost offended. Like the time you made a big meal, he was offended, you seemed tired from the effort and he didn't like that. Even when you cleaned his things he seemed irritated, you weren't supposed to do things for him.

After months of looking for ways to thank him for his helpfulness, you discovered it in an unusual way. Your room wasn't fully furnished, even months after moving in you were still buying furniture and needing to assemble it. Jason dismissed all the delivery people from the store and said he would assemble it himself, using the excuse that he didn't like strangers in his space.

"You spoil me," you joked with him, sitting on the floor as you watched Jason working on your new vanity. It wasn't a bad sight, Jason's large hands proving skillful and efficient, his t-shirt revealing his biceps that made you a little dizzy.

"I find doing manual labor relaxing." He replied, glancing at you and smiling slightly. You hummed in response, resting your chin on your knees and admiring Jason. You wanted so badly to find something to thank him for, something to show him that you were grateful for him.

When he finally finished the job, he stood up and held out his hand to help you. After gaining momentum, your hands instinctively went to his arm and gave it a squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Jay."

He was silent, you were silent. It seemed too intimate a touch, you were nervous, afraid he wouldn't like it, that he would ask you to never touch him again, which would be a shame because your hands could feel the heat of his skin. Then he smiled. He smiled, a dimple in his cheek.

"Nothing, princess."

After that, the touches became more frequent. Every time he did something adorable, you would touch his arms or his hand. Like the time he carried all your college books for meters and you held his hand in thanks (you stayed like that for longer than usual).

Another big step was when you arrived tired, from a horrible day, and you found Jason smiling shyly at you, the apartment smelling of your favorite food. As you washed dishes side by side, your hips touching, you lifted your feet and kissed his cheek, whispering a thank you. His reaction was adorable, his neck slightly red, his eyes blinking at you in a silly way that made you smile back.

So you continued, becoming a little bolder every time he did something to please you. It seemed impossible now to go back to the time when you didn't touch him, and you could swear he liked it. There were times when you could almost feel him sigh when your kiss on his cheek went all the way to his jaw.

When he came back from patrol, bruised and bleeding, he wouldn't let you help him. He would never dirty your soft hands with his blood. But he enjoyed it when you sat next to him, stroking his hair and talking to him in that calm tone, trying to make him relax with more pleasant conversations. A routine was established.

Jason was a little quiet sometimes. At first you thought he was grumpy and moody, but you soon discovered that he was just someone with poor social skills, and you managed to establish a way to show that you cared about each other.

"Hum, I stopped by the pharmacy, but your order had already been picked up." You jumped, startled by Jason's sudden arrival. For such a big guy, he had an impressive ability to be silent. Damn Batman training.

"Jay, hi." You greeted, as you leaned on the kitchen counter, casually scrolling through your phone. "Dick got it for me, he was just passing by."

He fell silent, making you look up from your phone to look at him. Jason's eyebrows were furrowed, his lips forming a frown.

"Why?" You blinked slowly.

"Why what?"

"Why Dick got it for you. I was going to get it for you." He looked almost... annoyed, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the product for you.

You blinked slowly again, tilting your head.

"He...was closer. I didn't mean to bother you."

He let out a huff, looking annoyed, like when a dog sees his owner reading a newspaper another dog brought.

"Jay?" You called out to him, almost shivering when his blue orbs stared at you.

"I'm the one who does your things. Why is that idiot Dick getting involved?"

"I don't want you to feel like you're my employee, that's all."

He huffed again, looking indignant. Another problem with Jason Todd: he didn't say what he was feeling, it was like trying to win the lottery with blurry numbers. Then he approached you, his posture looking like he was preparing to interrogate a criminal, his hands resting on the counter.

"Did you kiss him?"It certainly wasn't what you expected to hear. Your mouth fell open, your eyes wide.

"What?"

It was the only intelligent thing your lips formed.Jason still had that indignant look on his face, his blue eyes half-closed. He was too close and you felt a little cornered, the kitchen seemed small, the air harder to breathe. You stared back at him.

"Why do you think I kissed Dick?" You repeated, still that confused expression. You would be offended if your brain was working perfectly.

"You kiss me when I do favors for you!" He murmurs.

Oh. That was it.

You let out a breath, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

"Jason. Do you think I kiss the mailman every time he brings letters?"

"God, I hope not."

You both stay silent, your hands going to the hem of his shirt, unable to control yourself, squeezing it between your fingers, the weight of the unspoken words.

"Jay. You know...you don't have to do me favors to receive my affection, right?" You whispered, your eyes roaming all over his face, his beautiful features, his slightly crooked nose, his lips that looked so kissable.

"But I like it. I like taking care of you. Fuck, I want to take care of you always."

He himself seemed shocked by the intensity of the words, his eyes widening, his heart beating out of control, just like yours.

"Jay." You let out a breath, your hands rising to his face, caressing his cheekbones. You shivered when his hands held your hips, keeping you firmly against the counter. You didn't know what it would be like to kiss Jason, of course, you had already thought about it a lot, more than was healthy.

And when you finally pulled his face to you, pressing your lips, slightly chapped but still soft, against his. You dominated the kiss for a few seconds, being gentle as you held his face, but then something seemed to snap in Jason, he held you with impressive ease, pressing your hips against the counter and thrusting his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your soft moan. His hands were all over your body, hungry, as if he couldn't lose you.

"Only I can take care of you," he growled against your lips, his breathing heavy.

"Yes. yes," you said, caught in the haze of Jason's kisses, your eyes almost closing again.

"Good," he whispered, before kissing you again, fiercely, his hands gripping the back of your neck.

You were fine with this deal of favors in exchange for kisses.

Inspired by a post I saw about Jason's love languages headcanon. Jaybean is just a guy who doesn't know how to show love in a normal way!!! But we love him anyway. I hope you liked it! I'm very happy to start posting things here, slowly gaining courage.

[papaya-twinks]

ok so what abt a lando one where there’s an age gap and he’s always been obsessed with her and like stalkers her, does research on the guys she brings home and goes out with basically totally dark stalker vibes. But the thing is she knows she has a stalker but no idea who it is bc whenever he confronts her he is wearing his racing helmet, and they always do even more each time they meet, liek first time they met he just caressed her but then like the 3rd time fingers her and 4th fucks her. THEN SOMEWEAR IN IT PLSSS. Lando has a sex tape of them and jerks off to it and thinks ‘fuck I can’t do this anymore’ kidnaps her and now she’s kinda like his toy but sugar daddy vibes bc he treats her well. And this is all consensual bc the reader wants an adventure as her ex bf was so vanilla ( which lando knows allll abt and explains in detail to her what she used to do with him) THATS ALOT IM SRRY U DONT HAVE TO DO IT

Warnings: Five year age gap (sorry, large age gaps make me squeamish), stalker, dark fic, 18+ kidnapping, sex, smut, 18+, consensual, sex tape, fingering, abusive partner (not Lando), sugar daddy, swearing

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m adding some biker!lando into this coz his F1 helmet is just cutsies but a black biker one? dark dark shit right there.

Lando had met you at an F1 race, where you’d been in the garage. Something about how darn innocent you looked with your pretty little dress, all young and…wow. And with the help of Oscar (who simply thought his teammate just had an interest in some girl), he found out about you.

Y/N Y/L/N. You were 19 years old, your favourite colour was pink, you were cute and innocent and sweet, and you loved bows and ribbons. How adorable. And so it began, Lando followed you on a burner account, and watched all your stories, pinpointing your exact location to be in Monaco.

Oh how perfect, you were in the same country as him and, conveniently, he had the whole summer break to play around with the information.

y/n

caption: spending this day alone but with a great cafe to make up for it :)

friend3: oooo, have fun 💗💗💗

-> y/n: will do, thank you x

friend2: looking chic, y/n!

friend1: enjoy yourself and try the chocolate cake 👀

user1: café can’t be as gorgeous as you are 😉

-> y/n: oh, thank you?

You had just brushed off whoever ‘user1’ was, not really paying much mind to unusual flirty message, and continued with your day at the cafe. However, you couldn’t shake the slightly unsettling feeling that you were being watched.

You’d seen this happen in movies, and you couldn’t deny that the slight tingle of adrenaline coursing through your body wasn’t enjoyable. And so you looked behind you, from your cake and your phone, your eyes locking with someone else’s.

Well, more you found yourself staring back at a helmet. A plain, slick black helmet, the person wearing it adorned in a leather black jacket and light blue jeans. You couldn’t see any features to help show you who it was, but it was kind of…interesting.

Did you confront the person? No, you’d seem desperate or stupid. So you went back to your food, and never once did it cross your mind that perhaps, user1 was your stalker. But you didn’t see the stalker anymore. And you were a little disappointed they’d moved on so quickly, but you too moved on, going on your dates, looking for love, as girls your age did.

“Jason? What the fuck?” Lando said, eyeing the new name at the bottom of your followers. He’d skimmed through them, making a note of each and every person on your Instagram list, but seeing a guy? He couldn’t deny the feeling of annoyance in his stomach.

And thankfully, he’d made note of the guy’s instagram enough to see where the date would take place. Foolish, foolish move. And once again, you were sitting at a chair opposite this man, Jason, when your eyes fell on the same, sleek black helmet once more. Holy shit. And quicker than it had come, it was gone. For fucks’ sake.

*1 month later*

You and Jason were dating now, and to say he was toxic was an understatement. “Jason, I’m just gonna go out with my friends,” you said, picking up your purse as he scowled from the sofa, still in his sleeping clothes. “Why? So you can see some guy under the guise of friends? Likely,” Jason scoffed.

He was frustrating. “I’m not seeing another guy, I’m going with my friends,” you said, repeating your words as he groaned. “For fucks’ sake, Y/N, no means no!” he yelled, his words making you flinch as you sighed and dropped your purse back down.

“Fine, if you’re gonna be a brat, fucking go!” Jason seethed, pushing you to the door. Well, at least you’d get to go. The meet up with your friends ended a few minutes later, and just as you were leaving..,the helmet. This time, you would confront him. Or her.

“Uh, hi,” you said, walking slowly towards the helmet-man. He was definitely muscular. You were standing in the middle of an alleyway, the darkness flooding round you as the helmet stared down at you from his spot. “Uh, I’m Y/N,” you said, holding your hand out for him to shake.

He didn’t shake it.

You watched as he placed a hand in your shoulder, still not having said anything, and interlocked your other hand in his. He pushed a bit of paper into your hand, your eyes on the words. A phone number. Interesting. As soon as you looked back up, he was gone.

unknown user

y/n: hello

user: Hello.

y/n: who is this?

user: you don’t need to know.

user: come to the boulevard tomorrow at 9pm. leave jason behind. tell him your seeing a friend.

Holy shit x2. The air of mystique around whoever this was…was somewhat unsettling but at the same time, it was kinda a turn on. And wait, how did he know who Jason was? Oh, he’d done his research. Nice one.

And so you did what he said, managing to wriggle out of Jason’s possessive gaze, and you found yourself, waiting where this stalker had said. And there he was, in the same jacket and the same helmet, looking back at you. And perfectly on time, as well. Either he was desperate or…well, you didn’t know.

It was dark all round you, no one around and the streets unlit in this area. You watched as he reached out a gloved hand, taking your hand in his and pulling you between the trees, the mask of the night shielding you. He had strong hands.

You didn’t truly care what he’d do next, as he sat you down, the dry earth coating the back of your dress as he pushed it up, your thighs visibly shaking. A soft gasp left your lips as he trailed his hand over your core. You hadn’t worn panties. Good.

It was almost like he was complimenting you as he gave you a small smack on your thigh, before he removed his glove, dipping his finger between your folds as you moaned, eyes wide. “Shit…” you trailed off, your eyes wide as he added another, your knot building up. Fucking weeks of faked orgasms, and this one felt real.

He didn’t say anything, simply moving his hand faster, the tan skin of his fingers curling as he rubbed at your clit with his thumb. Who was this fucking angel? A loud moan left your lips as your orgasm flooded over you, his hand moving from between your legs, the remnants of your pleasure on his hand as he wiped it down his jacket, watching you for a second, before he left.

Part 1 of his plan: complete.

And the next day, you received yet another message from the same user, your eyes lighting up. It was an address.

user: [address], 10pm. no panties either.

And you arrived at the surprisingly grand hotel, showing the receptionist the room number and she gestured the way. You paused outside the door, thoughts of everything flashing through your head. Who was this man? Was he safe? Was he dangerous? Fuck it, you just needed another orgasm.

As you walked in, you failed to notice the little camera set up on the desk behind a bottle of lotion, your eyes on the man standing in the doorway of the en-suite bathroom. You didn’t say anything, neither did he, as he walked to you, lifting your dress once more and laying you down on the bed.

With one hand, he dipped his fingers into your core, the other hand undoing his belt as he dropped his trousers, taking your hand and wrapping it round the base of his (surprisingly large) cock. You heard the small sound of a groan, not enough to identify who it was, but you pumped his slowly, his own hand toying with your core.

Still, he’d didn’t remove his helmet. You gasped as he pressed his cock against you, one hand pressing down on your throat gently, the restriction of your airways adding to the pleasure, as his other hand pressed your stomach down to stop you from arching. You whined as he tugged your jaw forwards, forcing you to look at the small bump in your stomach.

Holy shit x3.

You gasped as he started moved, your lips parting as he moved his head down, lifting the visor and pressing immediately to your neck, so you couldn’t see anything but his lips as he licked at the supple, sweet skin of your collarbone. His hips picked up pace as you moaned, his fangs nipping at your skin as he peppered kisses to your neck.

You could feel the pleasure build up in both of you as he held you down, his hand moving from your neck to massage you clit in soft, slow circles, his other hand kneading the skin of your breasts. “Shit,” you muttered as he sped up, the knot in your stomach building faster and faster as you suppressed your moans, your eyes rolling.

He pulled out before he came, spilling the liquid onto your thighs as he bit down once onto your neck, sucking the hickey under your coat and out of sight, before fixing you up. And then he pushed you out the room. Oh god.

“What the fuck?!” Jason snapped, stepping into the shower with you. “Where did you get a hickey from?” he asked, your eyes wide. You’d totally forgotten about it. “You gave it to me last time we fucked,” you said coolly, trying to play it off. “Oh…right,” Jason muttered. Wow, he was stupid.

“Fuck,” Lando gasped, his eyes rolling as he tried to keep his attention on the video of the night before, his hand desperately trying to recreate the sensation of your tight cunt, how good it had felt having your warmth clenching round him. “For fucks’ sake,” Lando muttered staring down at the menial drops of cum coating his hand.

And there was only one way he could have you all of himself. Kidnapping. But, how? You were walking down the boulevard once more, trying not to stare at the spot where you’d been fingered by the mystery man, clutching your bag as you walked down to a bakery, where you wanted to pick up your cakes.

And then, a hand on your mouth, followed by a cloth, and out you went.

……….…………………………

Your lashes fluttered open as a piercing yellow light hung over you, your eyes returning to usual as you looked round the room. You had an itch under your nose, and you reached your hand up, only to find your wrists tied together and to a radiator. What the fuck?!

And then you saw it, the pieces falling into place. A laptop placed perfectly so you could see it, with the video of the mystery man fucking you playing on. The helmet placed onto the side cabinet. A phone with ‘user1’ and the list of all your images he’d saved. What was this?

“Hello sweetheart,” a voice said, the second word dripping with almost condescending sarcasm as you looked up, your eyes locking on a pair of greenish-blue ones. He was the stalker? He was hot, though. “What are you doing, who are you?” you writhed against the ties as he scoffed.

“Fight all you want, then,” he shrugged, “I know you want this,”. You shook your head at his words, making him roll his eyes, before he bent down, untying the tie on your wrists and kneeling to your height. “Don’t wanna be here, is that what you want me to believe?” he smirked. “Then go on,” he gestured to the bedroom door.

“Run, then,”.

But you didn’t. You didn’t run. Though you knew you should, that this wasn’t right, but you didn’t move. “Exactly,” he leaned down to whisper into your ear, running his tongue over the mark he’d left, a shiver rushing up your spine. “Get on the bed, then,” he said with a little sinister smile, but you obeyed.

“On your back, lift your dress,” the man said, directing you with a firm voice as you did what he said, your back against the mattress, your hands tugging the material of your dress upwards. “Good,” he eyed your body, “think a little introduction is in need,”.

“I’m Lando,” he said, his lips brushing your ear as he removed his jeans, “you’re Y/N. I know that,” he said, pumping himself a few times before aligning with your entrance as you gasped. “I know how Jason was a dick,” he continued, “I watched you fake those orgasms,” Lando mused, “and how that cunt of a ‘boyfriend’ never once gifted his perfect little girl anything,”.

You whimpered as he took your chin in his fingers, pressing his lips to your jaw, before sliding into you, his other hand taking a little box from behind you, sliding the ring onto your index finger as he rocked his hips. “Oh, god,” you gasped as he sped up, your hands digging into his shoulders.

“I watched how that cunt couldn’t even make you cum, Y/N,” Lando smirked, “such a pretty girl and he couldn’t even make you cum,”. You whined at his words, your body bouncing a little as the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his as he slammed into you, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Cum for me,” he said, his teeth bared against your neck as you gasped, your whimpers filling his ears as he carried on. Oh what he fun he’d have with you.

A/N - I love this.

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warning: NSFW, Minors DNI, plot where the use of a safe word is used

"Hey. Don't ever be ashamed that you would want to stop"

Your whole day had been literal torture. All you wanted to do was strip away your uncomfortable clothes, replacing them with the soft cotton hoodie that belongs to your vigilante boyfriend.

You forgot your lunch at home together with your money, so all you ate today was a protein bar. Your boss yelled at you for thinking you misplaced important files when really, it was your coworker who lost them. You accidentally closed an important, unsaved tab from your computer. You still had 2 essays due for your college. You had a horrible headache.

Even when you went to your shared home and laid limp on your bed, you stull felt like shit. You changed into more comfortable clothing and patiently waited for Jason to come home from his late evening patrol.

When he came through the fire escape, he was huffing, clearly coming back from a very active vigil. He took off the heavy plated armour off of his upper body, leaving him in his tactical pants and compression shirt, accentuating the ripples of each muscle.

He was frustrated. Yeah, he successfully took down the criminal, but he noticed his performance was lacking unusually. He got a couple of blows, a punch here and there, and all that he was thinking now was that a good fuck will help him get rid of all that frustration and excess adrenaline.

When he came into your shared room, you were staring at your laptop, trying to finish one of your essays. You notice a large figured presence at you door way.

"You're early," you say, looking at him. Jason didn't say anything. He just walked over to you, saving the document on your laptop before slamming it shut and clumsily placing it on the desk beside the bed.

"Jay, what-" Jason shuts you up by connecting his lips to yours, wasting no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You whimper at his forwardness, and Jason takes that as a sign to continue. He crawls over you, carefully lying you down as he hovers above you, never breaking the kiss.

Maybe this is what you need. Maybe this'll cheer you up. Maybe all you needed for a good day was Jason's cock deep inside of you.

So, you reach your hands up his neck, tugging a handful of his hair in the grip of your hands, bucking your hips upwards against his as Jason groans in response.

You tried to keep your focus on your throbbing cunt instead of your throbbing head, your headache slightly becoming worse.

Jason disconnects his lips from yours, his hands travelling down your torso, bunching your his hoodie above your waist as he kisses and nibbles on the skin of your stomach.

"Off," he demands, pushing your hoodie higher on your body, revealing your tits, where his hands reach up to fondle them, his thumbs circling around your hardening nipples.

You take off your hoodie, shivering at the cool breeze hitting against your skin. Jason returns to his original position, his nose almost touching yours.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he grunts, rolling his hips into yours, making you let out a pleaded moan.

"Jay- please," you begged, wanting more of him.

"My little impatient slut." He attaches his lips onto your neck, trying to tug off your sweatpants in which you hastily do it for him. "So fucking needy," he laughs. His rare degration kink only really shows when he's had a rough night.

He unbuckles his belt, kicking his pants off, revealing the large bulge of his cock that was still covered by his boxers.

"Suck," he demands, holding up two of his fingers into your mouth. You quickly obeyed, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your tongue swirled around his fingers. "What a good, obedient girl."

He removes his fingers from your mouth, and his hand moves down to your needy pussy that begged for his touch.

Your back arched when you finally felt contact on your cunt, wanting to beg for more, but you kept getting distracted by the pains in your head. Still, you tried to push them aside.

Looking down to where Jason's hand was, you watch as he takes his fingers out, whining at the loss of his warmth, as he puts his digits in his mouth, sucking away your precum.

"Jason-" You cry. "Please- please.. I.."

"You what? Use your words, baby," he says.

"I need you p-please. I need you to fuck me," you barely cried out. You didn’t know if it was because of the ache from your pussy or from the migraine you refused to take care of.

"Polite as usual," Jason praises, giving you a kiss on the forhead before removing his boxers, his lengthy cock springing out.

Every time Jason fucks you, you always see heaven. But right now, because of your splitting headache, it was hard to focus on Jason actually splitting you.

Your moans of pleasure slowly turned into moans of pain, but unfortunately, Jason was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even notice.

"Fuck, baby, so- so fucking tight. God- my good fucking slut," he groaned, slowly pumping his dick in and out of your hole, his pace gradually getting faster. But with every thrust, a sharo pain bolted through your head and you thought your skull was going to crack.

"Fuck, you like that, huh? My greedy little whore, taking my cock like a good girl. My good little fuck toy." His comments didn't make you want to crave more like it usually would. This time, you took them as insults. The build-up of today's stress didn't go well with the degrading pet names that Jason had given you. And tears began to prick your eyes.

His thrusts became rough, and the sex didn't feel good anymore. You wanted it to stop.

"W-wait, Jay, stop, please," you try to say, barely audible. Unfortunately, you say this often while Jason is balls deep into you, so he didn't get the message.

"Fuck, but your being such a good cock pocket, judt for me. Is that want you want, huh? To be my faithful little cum whore?" He grunts.

Shit, the word. What was the word. You haven't used it before, what was it?

When you and Jason sat down to talk about coming up with a safe word, he didn’t want to use the common traffic light system, knowing that you'd use the nickname 'Red' most nights he came home from patrol.

Red. It was something red. A flower? An animal? A gem? Fuck, what was it?!

Food. No... it was a fruit. Shit, which one. Strawberry, raspberry, watermelon, apple. No, no, no...

Cherry. Jason suggested cherry since you loved everything that was cherry.

"Cherry," you tried to call out, but you were exhausted. it barely came out as a whisper.

"Hm? What was that, sweetheart? Fucking speak up," he hisses, burying his face into your neck.

"Cherry," you were able to say louder, coming out as a whine as you gripped his shoulders, trying to push him away.

Jason's eyes widen as he immediately holds himself up, pulling out as you sigh in relief. His heart raced, and he began to panic.

Shit, what did he do? Did he go too far? Was he too rough? Fuck- Did he hurt you??

His full attention was on your teary face that was covered by both your hands as you sniffled. Jason's heart shattered.

He reached out, wanting to caress your cheeks. But did you even want him touching you?

"Sweetheart?" He weakly called out. He moved away from you, grabbing his boxers from the floor, quickly putting them on, and trying to find wear his discarded hoodie went. When he found it, he picked it up and shuffled to you, trying to offer his hoodie that you've claimed yours.

You shifted yourself to sit up, taking the hoodie, but still avoided eye contact with Jason. He wanted to throw up. And he wanted to shoot himself for wanting to throw uo. Because it was you that was hurt. Ans it was him that hurt you.

"I'm sorry," you quietly cry once you have the hoodie on. And Jason's brows knotted.

What? "Y/n, why.. why would you be sorry?" He asked, his face full of confusion.

"I didn't- I didn't mean to stop, I just," you hiccuped into another fit of light sobs, covering your face once more. "It was just a really shit day," your cracking voice muffled by the sleeves of the hoodie. "It's stupid."

"Darling. Look at me. Please..." He asked in the most gentle voice he possibly could. He slowly reached his hands out, telling you that he's about to touch your face. And you let him.

Both his hands hold your soft cheeks, caressing them with his thumbs. "It's not stupid. And never say sorry ever again for something like this," he tells you, staring right into your eyes.

You shake your head, attempting to look away. You thought it was embarrassing. Jason was out there, risking his life for the city, and right now, you felt like a cry baby. But Jason hold your head in place.

"Hey. Don't ever be ashamed that you would want to stop," he reassured you. He had told you this before. The first time you talked about having sex. The two of you talked about kinks, pleasures, boundaries, and such. And you were so grateful that you had someone like Jason who understands would show you so much respect for you, your comfort, and your body. "I'm glad you understand your own boundaries. I'm glad you wanted to stop, and you told me. I'm glad you used our word," Jason says, his calloused hands feeling soft and safe as they surround your face, leaning into his touch.

"Am I really just a slut to you?" You ask. You thought it was a dumb question. But he was saying it so much, and it just got to your head. Jason always shows that he loves you for you. You were more than just sex to him. Fuck, you were so much more to him.

"No. No, no, oh god, baby, no. You are everything to me. You're my life. You are every single breath I take. My heart is in your hands," he says, and your heart absolutely melts. You wouldn't need any more convincing. You knew he loved you.

"Have a headache," you say. Your throat sounds dry, and you look tired.

He places a soft kiss on your forhead, then another one to your lips as he takes your laptop again, opening it, clicking onto a website. He then places the laptop on your legs, playing 'Barbie a Fairy Secret' movie.

"I'll be back in a minute," he says, first finding a pair of sweats and then disappearing out the door.

When he comes back, he has a glass of water in one hand and a small pill in his other, with a cloth hanging over his forearm.

"Take this," he says, handing you the pill and the glass. Your thirst is queched, feeling the cool water run down your hoarse throat. "I'm gonna clean you up, okay?" He says, kneeling on the bed in front of you, tapping your knee twice.

"Mhm," you nod as he nods back, slowly pushing your legs apart, wiping away any of your precum from your hole.

When he finished, he planted a kiss to your knee, sending you a smile as you gave one back.

"Wanna talk about today?" He offers.

You shake your head. "Probably tomorrow," you say, focusing on the movie when a thought hits your brain. "It's not your fault, by the way," you notice the way Jason's body tenses up, and he looks down at you.

"You didn't hurt me. Not intentionally." You knew Jason had made it a bad habit of blaming himself whenever you got hurt, even if it was a minor injury, while he's with you. He always blamed that he wasn't able to protect you or prevent yourself from getting hurt and such. Ever since he started dating you, there's a voice in the back of his head, yelling at him for being selfish, and that you deserve better than him.

Recently, however, Jason has gotten better that he deserves to receive as much love as he is giving. He's accepting the small affections and acts of service that you present to him. He's accepting that he deserves to be loved.

He nods. "I know," he whispers, leaving a kiss to the crown of your head before watching the movie with you.

"Ken and Barbie look like siblings," he quips as you slap his chest, telling him to shut up as you both start laughing, happy to be in each other's arms.

[hadesrise]

𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄.

part one — part two

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. the wayne family witness how you handle jason’s trauma.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. jason todd x addams!male reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. sfw content, foul language, trauma, nightmares, mentions of torture, typical addams behavior (dark, edgy, gothic, disturbing behavior), romantic, death threats, soft addams!reader, mentions of a very dark and gruesome fictional book, dealing with trauma, fluff, lots of fluff, everything’s just soft

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. can't help it, i really enjoy writing addams!reader content. honestly, it's kinda getting old but i guess this will be the last one??? or one more and then i'll end its endless cycle?? anyway, if y'all have any recommended translation apps it'll be nice to know. don't wanna trust google translate that much.

FEM ALIGNED DNI !!

“Why are you awake so early in the morning?”

Bruce’s slightly raspy morning voice interrupts the silent reading you had indulged yourself in, barely reacting at his sudden presence despite the fact you failed to notice him from how focused you were on your book.

You glanced at him only for a split second before your eyes went back to reading again, “I prefer the quietness of your manor in the morning for a quick read. Although, I must say the bright sun is such a terrible sight. It nearly burned me as soon as my consciousness awakened.” As you replied casually, Bruce took notice of how the curtains are closed completely shut to block the sunlight from entering, as if getting even a little bit of it would burn you like a vampire. Well, you did look like a vampire because of how pale and ghostly your skin is as well as the all black, gothic medieval or victorian outfit.

Bruce still wasn’t used to your unique culture, ancient speech and intimidating presence, but had learned not to be too bothered by it ever since you and Jason began visiting the Manor often. He didn’t want to waste energy by constantly reacting to any unusual traits you displayed, and he’s been successful so far. Even though he still doesn’t agree with your morals, he knew not to argue with you like before, since you’ve been nothing but respectful to him everytime you set foot in the manor.

Raising one of his eyebrows, Bruce tilts his head. “Do you always read?”

“Yes, indeed.” Came your immediate response. “Books are what defines me, Mr. Wayne. My soul is practically attached to it.”

“Is that why you always carry a book with you?” Stephanie suddenly chimes in out of nowhere with Tim behind her, curiosity plastered across her face. You nodded, glancing up to see Damian sit down on the other sofa while playing a brutal game that occasionally makes a blood splattering sound.

Bruce sighs, “And why are you all awake so early?”

Tim looks at him weirdly, “It’s already eleven o’clock. Almost lunch time, you know.” Deadpanning, he then leans in from behind to get a glimpse of what you were reading, only to cringe slightly after his eyes read a particular sentence; The flesh muscles of his legs were torn off, almost as if it had been ripped open by a lion, exposing bones with blood uncontrollably flooding out. It’s definitely one of those horror books who has unnecessary amount of gore. “What in the hell are you reading?”

“Bloodthirst by Clementine.” You sipped on a black coffee before continuing, “Wherein the main character becomes bloodthirsty for revenge after his lover had been abducted and mutilated by a group of serial killers. The sentence you’ve read is one of his acts of revenge which includes a pack of wolves.” The corner of your mouth twitched up a bit, looking up at him with that glint in your eyes. “It has a pleasantly satisfying plotline.”

Disturbed and quite freaked out, Tim exchanges eye contact with Bruce and pressed his lips together. “That is... uhm, interesting.” Amusement merely crosses your face before it instantly went back to your usual emotionless expression.

They still haven’t gotten used to the extremely calm demeanor you had because of how most of them grew up not having a quiet presence in the manor, even Cassandra wasn’t as silent as you before. You’re the only calm and fully collected person they’ve ever met, coming off as rather intimidating due to your piercing gaze, emotionless face, wiser-than-thou mind, and utmost patience. Especially the patience one, because most of them were either short-tempered or just born enraged. Sometimes, they get intimidated without you even speaking — once, you and Jason reluctantly joined them to a grand event and someone made an utterly horrible decision to insult Jason by comparing him to the “well-behaved” eldest son Dick, which resulted in you shooting them a piercing, dark, cold and harsh glare not even a second after that instantly made them freeze in spot. That look in your eyes alone made their blood run cold and face pale.

Needless to say, they regretted insulting Jason as quick as the wind blows, but that story’s for another time.

“Where’s Dick? Did he sleep at Barbara’s?” Stephanie wondered, realizing the lack of annoying presence.

“Nope!” An all too cheerful voice in the morning pipes up as Dick appeared with a big smile on his face. He quickly noticed you reading a book and approached, “Reading a dark book again? Where’s Jay?”

“There’s only an obvious answer to an already obvious question, Richard.” Retorting without sparing him a glance, you flipped the page and earned a snicker from Damian. “He will be walking down the stairs soon. Sois patient, frère.”

Dick replies an ‘okay’ before jumping on the couch Damian was sitting on, deciding to annoy his youngest brother instead. Shaking your head with the corner of your mouth twitching up only barely, you focused on reading your book again despite the peaceful silence being broken by their chattering, although it didn’t take long before you averted your gaze and stared at the ceiling, as if feeling something wrong.

Damian notices. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t speak right away. Just staring up like something was there, which also made the others look up in attempt to figure out what you were doing.

“Jason is not sleeping well,” You finally stated, not looking away from the ceiling. “Humans often radiate different energy depending on their mental state, which makes it easier to specifically identify what their current emotions or moods are. It can be felt if you concentrate enough. Jason’s energy has been much peaceful ever since I’ve tormented Joker. It is supposed to stay as that.”

“What do you feel now?” Cassandra asked worriedly, her body leaned back against the wall.

“He’s distressed.” You concluded, shutting the book close without bothering to slip a bookmark on the page, which she noticed quickly. She reads with you a lot and had never seen you close a book without bookmarking it; books are absolute treasures for you, but not as much as Jason now.

Confusion took over Tim’s face as you set your book down and drink your black coffee in one go, “How do you know?”

“There is not one thing I don’t know about Jason.” You remarked nonchalantly, like it’s how it should be. You just knew Jason well enough to understand him more than anyone else, even more than himself sometimes.

Before you could stand up from the couch, a footstep erupts from the top of the stairs and comes Jason slowly walking down, wrapped around in a blanket and thick arms hugging his body, making himself as small as possible despite his large frame. “(Y-Y/n)...?” His voice was thick and hoarse, as if he had been crying, as he stuttered and looked for you like a lost child.

You quickly got up from the couch and walked up to him when he stopped in the middle of the stairs. “Come here, darling.” Jason doesn’t hesitate to drop the blanket and wrap his arms around your neck, clinging onto you for dear life. Slipping your hands on the back of his thighs, you lifted him up with ease and returned to the couch, sitting down sideways so Jason could lay on top of you, just how he liked.

“Horrible...” Jason murmured, face buried in your chest. “Horrible, all of ‘em. It hurts. Everything hurts.”

You frown, although your face had the softest look anyone had ever seen as you gently stroke his back, still having him caged in your arms. “Terrifying dream, was it?” You asked, earning a nod.

“ ‘m scared...” Jason breathes shakily, “I’m still there... Still hurts. Too dark. Cold. He’s still laughing. Hurts, it hurts.” He blabbered, words repeating over and over again, and breath increasingly becoming rapid as panic begins to slowly build up inside him. His entire body was trembling, sobs wreck through his body.

Everyone except you was at lost for words.

Jason seemed... weak and fragile. A cracked glass that can easily break with just one touch. Had Jason been suffering like this all this time? It felt as if Bruce was bludgeoned by a brick in the form of realization, opening his eyes to how the events with Joker truly affected Jason. He was obviously and clearly traumatized (who the fuck wouldn’t be?), but this is the first time everyone had actually witnessed the trauma, considering Jason refused to be vulnerable in front of them.

“Shh... Open your eyes, chéri. Look into mine and breathe slowly,” You gently instructed, rubbing his back in a soothing manner and muttering encouragements. Jason does as he’s told and open his eyes, staring into your calm and comforting (e/c) eyes while attempting to slow down his breathing. “Doing so excellent, mon amour. Breathe in and out, slowly. Good boy. You do not have to rush yourself.” The soft tone of your voice bringing him a sense of safety.

Once he’s calmed down, you slowly hold his hand and squeeze to provide warmth, hugging him tighter with one arm. “Can you tell me where you are and who you’re with right now?”

Jason squeezed back, little tears still running down his cheeks. “T-the Wayne Manor... With—with you... A-and Bruce, and Dick... Tim... Damian... C-Cass and Steph...” His gaze focusing on your encouraging eyes, his mind slowly detached from the nightmare it was drowning itself in.

“Good boy, sweetheart.” You kissed his forehead, “Is it still dark?” Jason shakes his head. “What about coldness? Am I succeeding in warming you up?” He nods this time. You smile, running your hand through his hair. “Be not afraid, Jason. Darkness will not consume your mind forever, although it is a part of our lives. You might remain afraid of the excessive trauma for years, but being afraid of it does not mean you will be chained eternally, and neither does it mean you are weak nor easily destructible. You’ve bravely fought a war within yourself. I know you will be able to defeat the nightmare someday.”

Jason sniffles, “Do you think I’m healing?”

“Yes, very slowly, as how healing process should be.” You stroked his cheek, “Trauma comes with nightmares. It especially shows when you are doing well so it could test your strength, whether you’ll be able to overcome. But it can never defeat you; it only knows to cause pain, agony, and fear. You know love, joy, compassion, and empathy. It is what make us humans that defeats the monsters.”

He curled up against you, “Just want it to be over. I feel less like myself.”

“You are not bounded to your trauma for all eternal, chéri. It does not define who and what you are, and it certainly does not make you any less.” You softly replied. “Never doubt yourself, my love. Healing cannot be completed within a day, it takes more than few years and I will be with you every step of the way.”

Biting his lip, Jason rests his chin on your chest. “You’ll get fucking tired dealing with me. Your patience might not be able to handle it.”

“I cannot get tired of you. Not when you hate pastels too.” Jason chuckles at your joke, the mood surely lightening. “And do not speak as if you don’t know me, Jason. There is no such thing as might not be able to handle it in my vocabulary when it is you. I love you too much. If I cannot handle anything that involves you and matters about you, then my love for you will mean nothing but dishonorable. The two of us definitely have knowledge of how I would rather decapitate myself than offer you a half-hearted love.”

Jason’s heart swell as the back of his eyes sting again, tears threatening to come out. He knew how difficult it is to be with someone as much trauma as he has, which made him live in fear of you getting tired and leaving one day, even though you’ve assured him more than a hundred times. He knew he was difficult to be with even without the trauma, yet you willingly giftwrap your heart to offer to him while simultaneously providing him with the understanding he deserved. You accepted him along with his trauma. Nobody knows how special that feels.

Cassandra and Stephanie sat on the carpet near the couch where you two laid, so they could check up on Jason. The others had scooted closer as they watch you comfort him nearly expertly.

“Can still feel it, (Y/n).” Jason snuggles on your chest, “The crowbar. It’s still hitting me.”

You gently pull his hand to see his arm that was littered in autopsy scars, some little and some a bit big. Caressing them, you press a lingering kiss. “It was just a fragrance of your memory, beloved. You are safe now, I will keep you protected for as long as I am here. No crowbars.”

Jason nods and looks up at you, puckering his lips. You immediately kiss him, then pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I know he can’t touch me anymore. You already tortured him enough.” He smiled and wiped off his tears.

You pat his head and hug him closer, “Everything will be alright someday. Would you like a hot chocolate with marshmallows on top? I’ll cook you breakfast as well.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Jason whispers.

You slowly slip out from under him, making sure he’s laying down comfortably before fetching the blanket he dropped and wrapping it around him, muttering an i’ll be right back. Watching you disappear into the kitchen, Jason sighs in content and curls up on the couch, still feeling vulnerable but not worse. Stephanie smiles softly at him as Dick walks over to sit beside her, ruffling Jason’s hair.

“You’ll be fine soon, little bird.”

Jason only nodded. The first time he didn’t scoff nor bark, indicating he still can’t forget the nightmare he had.

Soon, his other brothers joined Dick while Bruce sits on the couch beside Jason, looking regretful and apologetic with a frown. Witnessing the amount of trauma Jason has to endure even after many years dropped an equal amount of realization within the family, even though they knew he was traumatized. They just didn’t know the extent to it, and seeing it unfold before them had made them realize they hadn’t been supportive or doing enough for Jason when they should’ve known how much trauma torture and murder would cause. He literally died and came back to life — it’s impossible to not carry a lifelong trauma that greatly affects his personality and attitude; the utmost rage and murderous desires he displayed before might have just been his coping mechanism until meeting you, who quickly became his comfort and calmness.

Nearly most of them had guilt written in their faces due to feeling as if they had been invalidating Jason’s trauma, especially Bruce who did not deal with the entire thing well and had failed to show Jason he cared even though he did more than the son could ever know.

Once again, you beat him to it.

“He cares about you so much, doesn’t he?” Bruce quietly and rhetorically questioned.

Jason nodded happily, “A little too much sometimes. (Y/n)’s always careful and calm, but he gets reckless when it’s about me. Like that Joker thing.” He chuckles, “He said fucker didn’t even have time to laugh.”

The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched up only to disappear, the guilty look still staying. He breathes in and out slowly, causing Jason to look at him questioningly as Bruce avoided eye contact. “Jason, I... uh — I’m sorry. I’m sorry If you ever felt invalidated or unloved by me. I had been so focused on my morality that I failed to show you I cared for you. I really do, Jason. Just maybe not the way you were expecting me to show it.” He carefully says as to not trigger anything in his son.

Pulsing his lip, Jason shakes his head and reached out to play with Bruce’s hand. Bruce seem surprised, but let him nonetheless. “Mhm,” He hums, “It’s okay. I was just angry and hurt... You didn’t look for me enough, and there’s suddenly a new Robin, so... I thought you forgot about me. I couldn’t accept that you seemed to move on so easily.”

Bruce’s heart clenches. “That’s not true, son.”

“I can see that now. I was too bitter and angry, it made me blind.” The broken boy smiles a bit in an attempt to reassure him. “It’s not your fault I turned out like this and ruin everything, you know.” He sadly says, looking down.

The older Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t ruin everything, Jason. You were coping and still coping with what you went through. (Y/n) was right when he said healing takes time.”

Letting go of his hand, Jason instead fidgeted his own fingers now with a sad pout. A little child-like. “But you gave up on me. I know I’m difficult. It’s why you normally can’t deal with me and we always end up arguing. And I was a failure ‘cause I died easily as a Robin.” His voice was slightly high-pitched and trembling. It reminded Bruce again of a child.

Immediately shaking his head, he grasped Jason’s fidgeting hand and firmly looks at him. “You were never a failure, Jason. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You did everything you could. What I can’t forgive is that I let you die as Robin and not as Jason Todd. I can’t forgive myself for being too late to save you. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing’s your fault, son.”

He pulls him into a hug, which caused Jason to breakdown as he clings onto Bruce and cries his heart out. Embracing him tightly, Bruce kept stroking his back for comfort. The others watched silently with a sad smile, knowing both of them wanted to reconcile for a long time but was too hesitant to do so. It made them happy yet emotional at the same time, Dick and Stephanie already having tearful eyes.

“It truly feels upsetting to ruin this wonderful moment, but I’ve got to feed Jason. May I?” Your calm voice erupted, just then everyone noticing your presence standing at the side of the couch. Bruce chuckles and pulled away, sitting down on the carpet instead so you could take his place. You nodded appreciatively before taking a seat.

Jason sits up, accepting the hot chocolate from you with both hands and sipping it. You ruffle his hair gently.

“His age mentality regresses when the nightmare’s been too severe,” You explained what Bruce was wondering. “It is one of his responses to trauma. I believe it’s the inner child coming out, attempting to relive again.”

“How long?” Dick asked.

“About an hour.” You take the mug from Jason and set it on the table as you begin to cut a bite sized piece from the pancakes to feed your lover. “He has the desire of being taken cared of and I intend to fulfill it. Mother and father takes care of him once in a while when it happens in our Addams home.”

“Mom and dad takes me shopping. It’s fun.” Jason remarked, grinning.

“Shall we buy you some dead flowers, chéri? And a new gun, perhaps. Would you like that?” You caressed his cheek while feeding him with the other, Jason leaning his face on your palm.

“Yeah, I’d love that. Love you, (Y/n).”

“I adore you too, my love.” You kissed the tip of his nose, which caused him to erupt into a fit of giggles as you feed him again.

After Jason had fallen asleep peacefully on the couch, you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh deeply in attempt to calm yourself down. Seeing Jason struggle with trauma is not easy, especially when he’s far too scarred mentally that it causes mental age regression. It also probably came from the fact he had never lived a peaceful life even before meeting Bruce, losing his childhood by witnessing the harsh reality at such a young age, and having to stop being a child after becoming Robin.

You had utmost patience, but when something affects Jason greatly like this, you often tend to lose calmness and be overwhelmed with rage and bloodthirst. If you could take all his pain away and those painful memories, you’ve already done it. You would give up anything for Jason to not struggle with the torment of his torture and murder — you will give up everything for him.

“You okay, (Y/n)?” Tim asked worriedly, feeling your atmosphere change.

“I wouldn’t call blood boiling with rage okay.” You muttered murderously as your dark eyes glared daggers at the carpeted floor. “Joker is already encaged and chained down within the cells of Arkham Asylum, but the aftermath of his vile actions still haunts and torments the victims who have gone through survival. Trauma is inescapable, including fear of the perpetrator. Their spirits won’t rest peacefully, alive or dead, while his existence still roam the Earth.”

The way you spat with utmost disgust and anger was now understandable, as well as your nearly inexcusable actions committed before. You witness this side of Jason more often than they do. It’s already unbearable even for them, what more for you who takes precious care of him?

Suddenly, Bruce comes to understand your morals. Why you do what you do, why you believe what you believe.

“May I ask you to take care of him while I’m out, Mr. Wayne?” You asked, voice thick, clearly grounding yourself to your humanity.

Bruce nods, for the first time. “Yes, now go do what you want to do.”

You smiled, immediately standing up and wearing your coat before rushing off the manor.

Cassandra shakes her head with a smile as Damian looked at his father with a smirk, “He might kill him, you know.”

Bruce just shrugged.

“Well,” Stephanie sighs, “Can’t stop (Y/n) from going on a rampage against the Joker. He deserves what’s coming for him anyway.”

Few hours later, Jason wakes up to the news of Arkham Asylum increasing its security due to an unknown attack against Joker that left him barely alive, and you casually reading a book with pleased and prideful look. It doesn’t take him long to figure things out and tackle you in a hug, leaving kisses all over your face.

Joker’s probably going to have nightmares about you, but he deserves what’s coming for him, doesn’t he?

© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.

[haveihitanerve]

Jason is tims teacher. He notices the boy has some bruises and is rarely ever well rested. He wishes to speak to tim's parents about this

“Tim, could I speak with you a moment?” Jason called out as students filed past his desk to head home for the day. Tim froze, one foot already hovering in the doorway to leave, and he looked as though he was contemplating bolting, but with a sigh his foot stepped back inside and he made his way over to Jason’s desk. “Yeah professor?” He asked, fidgeting with his sleeve. “You aren’t in trouble Tim.” Jason said pleasantly, smiling. “I was actually wanting to ask if I could plan a parent teacher conference with your mother or father.” Tim stared at him wide eyed. “But I haven’t done anything!” He exclaimed in alarm. Jason raised a placating hand, slightly alarmed by the immediate response. “I know you haven’t Tim.” He soothed. “But parent teacher conferences are just a mandatory thing that we do sometimes.” That was a lie. Really Jason just wanted to talk to Tim’s parents. He hadn’t had this conversation with any of his other students. Tim was his star pupil, really. But the boy walked into his class only running on coffee and at best two hours of sleep, and Jason swore he spotted bruises on the boy's wrists and sides sometimes, when his tshirt rode up. Tim swallowed. “Okay.” He relented, relaxing slightly. “But um.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “My mother and father won’t show up.” He muttered awkwardly. Jason frowned. Tim opened his mouth as though to offer a solution, then hesitated, closing it again.  “Is there anyone else?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow. Tim deflated, like Jason asking him meant he had to reveal it. “Um yeah. My- my mentor. He’ll show up.” He cleared his throat. “Can I have his number?” Jason asked. Tim nodded sullenly and rattled off the number by heart, Jason scrambling to grab a pen and paper to scrawl it down. “Thank you. I’ll plan a meeting.” Tim nodded again and turned to leave. “And Tim?” Tim winced, but turned back. “Yeah Prof?” “You’re not in trouble.” Jason promised. In fact, if his suspicions were correct, his mentor was the one who would be in trouble. Tim just nodded again and left before he could be called back again. Jason sighed, slumping in his chair. “No time like the present.” He muttered, picking up his phone. It was better to get the confrontation done sooner rather than later, and help his student out if he could. His mentor wasn’t exactly the person Jason had been expecting to speak to, but he had heard Tim mention in passing that he lived with the man now, and hadn’t lived with his parents for a while. The person on the other end picked up on the second ring. “Hello? What’s wrong? Is everything alright?” Jason frowned, sitting up straight in his chair. That was an unusual way to answer the school phone call. “Hello?” The voice got more agitated. “Yes hello. This is Tim teacher, Jason Todd.” “Yes yes hello. Is Tim alright?” The man asked. Or rather, demanded. “Tim is fine.” Jason soothed. “I was calling to schedule a parent teacher conference meeting with you, actually. Your son hasn't done anything wrong i promise.” jason winced as he realized Tim had said both his mother and father wouldn't come, but the man on the other end didn't even wait a second before responding, as though used to it. “Oh.” He could hear the man relax on the other end, if not fully. “Okay. Of course. When should I come in.” Jason cringed. ‘No time like the present’ he reminded himself. “I’m free right now, if you’d like to come to the school.” There was the sound of paper being flipped and then a hum. “Yes that works. I’ll be there in ten. Good day Mr. Todd.” And he hung up. Jason released a breath, dropping the phone back onto its port. 

About eight minutes later there was a faint tap on the door. “Come in.” Jason called, leaning back in his chair. He regretted it a moment later as Bruce Fucking Wayne stepped into the room. Jason almost fell out of his chair, but he caught himself at the last second, jumping to his feet, smoothing out his jacket. The man filled the doorframe with his wide, massive shoulders, and even jason, a proud 6’4 felt like a dwarf compared to him. “Mr. Wayne.” he greeted in surprise. “Nice to meet you, to what do i owe the pleasure?” Bruce sent him a restrained smiled, shaking his hand. Jason was surprised to find his hand was rough and calloused, and his handshake was firm and strong. “The pleasure is all mine.” he said smoothly, his eyes scanned the room before settling back on jason. “Im here about tim?” Jason was so surprised he just blinked a few times in silence, staring up at the mountain that was Bruce Wayne. “T-tim?” Jason stuttered. “Yo-you're tims-?” he couldn't finish the sentence because he quite honestly didn't know what to say. Bruce managed a smile, although it seemed more like a grimace. “Yes. Im tim's dad.” he sat down in the seat opposite jasons. “What did you wish to discuss? His grades are good as far as i can tell, and i know hes not that into school but it cant be that bad can it?” Jason sat in his seat. This would be- interesting. ‘Doesn't matter if hes rich. Hes a prick for treating tim like that.” jason hissed inside himself. He straightened. “Mr. wayne im actually here to talk about you.” Bruce blinked, but didn't show any more outward sign of surprise. In fact, jason swore he saw resignation flit over the older mans face before it was concealed beneath a mask. “Oh?” Bruce asked dully. “And what, exactly, would you like to speak about?” “Tim comes into my classroom everyday and is always tired. He has dark circles under his eyes and i have seen bruises on his wrists and sides that he tries very hard to hide.” Jason leveled his hardest glare on the billionaire. “What do you know about that?” He watched the other man, but besides mild confusion and then ease, no other emotion crossed bruces face. Either the rich boy was better at hiding his facial expressions than jason would have thought, or there really was nothing to worry about. “Tim has a bad sleep schedule.” Bruce apologized, sitting up straighter. “I try to get him to go to bed earlier but he always stays up later than me and is awake before i am.” He chuckled awkwardly. “If its interrupting with your teaching im sorry, i will discuss it with him.” he cleared his throat. “As for the bruises, i have six other children, you might see them around the school sometimes, and,” he laughed again. “Things can get a little rough between the seven of them. Its nothing to worry about.” he assured. “But i can understand why it might concern you.” “oh.” jason's face flamed in embarrassment. He had watched the billionaire throughout his entire explanation, and it all seemed very plausible. “I-im sorry.” he stammered. This was not good. To get on a rich boys bad side for yelling at him because of child mishandling was always a sure fire way to disappear. To jason's surprise though, bruce actually smiled. “Its not a problem. Im grateful that at least one of his teachers cares enough to ask about it, and protect him if need be. Thank you. Its good to know someone is keeping an eye on him here when i cant.” Jason flushed even darker under the billionaires thanks. “Its no problem.” he muttered awkwardly. Bruce got to his feet. “Is that all you wished to discuss?” he asked. Jason nodded. “Yes. thank you for coming on such short notice.” bruce smiled. “For my kids? Anytime.” he nodded once. “Good day Mr. Todd.” “goodbye.” jason muttered, but the billionaire was already out the door. 

[1001aus]

When Jason was dead he became a citizen of Pandora's lair, the Acropolis. It's not totally unusual for new ghosts to nest their lairs inside those of more powerful spirits for protection and comfort especially when those more powerful spirits already share their lairs. He never met Pandora personally, but she was aware of his presence.

Then Jason's body reanimates and is eventually picked up by Talia. By the time she throws him in a lazarus pit as a last resort Jason has been a ghost for a couple years when he is unceremoniously yoinked back into a living body.

He isn't a halfa nor is this a possession, Jason really is fully alive. But even a small amount of time as a ghost would change a person and it's been a couple years. This is actually what pit madness is: the aftereffects of taking a being defined by obsession and shoving them back in a body that works in a fundamentally different way.

The lazarus pit also leaves people slightly liminal with increasing effects over repeated exposure. Jason gets all the standard side effects of liminality: a distinct ectosignature which attracts spirits, a tendency toward obsession (made stronger in Jason's case by the fact that he was a ghost), and a slight increase in strength and endurance that happens mostly when not actively paying attention (ex. Jason can take more damage (or rather take less damage from hits) while in the middle of a fight because he thinks he should be able to. Usually he attributes this to having good armor.) But because Jason was actually a ghost and not just dead for a few minutes he also behaves more like a ghost, in particular getting agitated when his obsession or haunt are threatened.

Jason's obsession as a ghost was protection. He needed to be protecting something or someone and that made him fit in well at the Acropolis. For the most part that carried over when he was resurrected, but he didn't have anything to latch onto until Talia pushed him in the direction of revenge while he was already struggling.

His re-entry into Gotham goes more or less as usual with blood and beheadings and one thing out of place: Jason has a patch on one shoulder of his jacket that the bats can't find any information on.

It's marks him as a vassal of Pandora.

(Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms Pandora has contacted Phantom for help. One of her citizens has been taken by force to the living world and she can't make the time to find him herself.)

[nofingjustaninchident]

ᯓ★ i hate you more pt.3

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

pairing jason grace x roman!reader

summary well, he should be dead, and she’d gladly kill him

warnings probably cursing, third person writing

now listening to bad blood by taylor swift

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Chiron invited them inside, sending Drew back to her cabin. y/n was glad when the girl walked away - her excessive touchiness with Jason had been grating on her nerves, as was the fact that she didn't even understand why it pissed her off so much. 

Especially because it shouldn’t, since they apparently hated each other so much. 

"Follow me," the centaur said. "We have lemonade." 

Grapevines covered the walls of the living room, running across the ceiling as well. y/n wasn't sure how they were able to grow inside, especially given the season, but they were leafy green and bursting with bunches of red grapes. 

The girl looked up at a stuffed leopard's head hung above the fireplace, so real-looking that its eyes seemed to move. It snarled at Jason, and she felt him nearly jump out of his skin next to her. 

“For the gods’ sake-” He muttered under his breath and y/n had to stop herself from snickering.  

"Now, Seymour," Chiron chided. "Jason is a friend. Behave yourself." 

Chiron threw a sausage to the leopard, who snatched it up and licked his lips. "You must excuse the decor," Chiron said. "All this was a parting gift from our old director before he was recalled to Mount Olympus. He thought it would help us remember him. Mr. D has a strange sense of humor." 

"Mr. D," Jason said. "Dionysus?" 

"Mhm." Chiron poured three glasses of lemonade, though his hands seemed to tremble slightly. He and Jason carried on a conversation about the old camp director and Seymour's origins, y/n watching in silence. She could tell that Chiron was wary of her as well, though he hadn't recognized her the way he recognized Jason. She supposed that was a good thing, giving the conditions - he had said Jason was supposed to be dead. 

"So, Jason, y/n," Chiron said. "Would you mind telling me – ah - where you're from?" 

"I wish we knew," Jason sighed. “I mean, i don’t. Maybe she does and just don’t want to tell anyone.”  

That earnt him a smack in the arm, which was nothing but passive-aggressive.  

y/n let Jason tell the story, only chiming in when he left out a detail or she needed to speak from her own experience. Chiron didn't react aside from nodding encouragingly for either of them to continue. 

When Jason was done, Chiron took a sip of his lemonade. "You only remember each other?" he asked for clarification. 

Y/n nodded. "Sadly, yes. Just names, but still." she muttered, looking over at Jason briefly. "Everything else is... blank." 

"I see," Chiron said. "Well, you must have questions for me." 

"I have one," y/n spoke up. "Any reason in particular those... naiads? Is that what they're called? Is there a reason they talked to me or...?” 

Chiron regarded her with inquisitive eyes. "They talked to you?" 

y/n nodded. "Yeah, one of them just... stood – can i say stood if they’re underwater? Anyway, one of them stood there and told me to just breathe." She tried to push away the memory of the human-like thing telling her to take a breath underwater. "Is that... normal?" 

"No," Chiron confessed. "That's highly unusual - naiads are typically friendly, especially the ones in the canoe lake, but they don’t usually talk. Well, at least, not that anyone could understand, anyway. The only person they talked to was...”  

With his pause, y/n looked expectantly at him. “The only person they talked was..?” And something Annabeth said came up to her. “Was it that guy that Annabeth talked about? Uh- Percy, right?”  

Chiron’s expression got somewhat darker, but he managed to cover it up. “Yes, Percy. He's one of our oldest campers now, but he’s missing.”  

“Oh.” y/n muttered. “Sorry.”  

“It’s no problem, child.” Chiron assured. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

But what if it was? 

"In any case, that indeed is strange," Chiron said quietly. "I will have a talk with them. Until then, it may be best to steer clear of the lake." 

"That won't be a problem," y/n muttered. 

"Do you have any other questions?" Chiron asked. 

"Uh, yeah," Jason admitted. "What did you mean when you said I should be dead?" 

Chiron studied him with concern. "Do either of you know what the marks on your arms mean? The color of your shirt, Jason? Do you remember anything?" 

Jason shook his head. "No, nothing," Jason said. 

"Do you know where you are?" Chiron asked. "Do you understand what this place is, who I am?" 

"You're Chiron the centaur," Jason said. "I'm guessing you're the same one from the old stories, who used to train heroes like Heracles." 

"And this is a camp for demigods," y/n said, "children of the Olympian gods." 

"So, you believe those gods still exist?" Chiron asked. 

"Yes," Jason answered immediately. y/n felt the same confidence, though she didn't know where it came from. "I mean, I don't think we should worship them or sacrifice chickens to them or anything, but they're still around because they're a powerful part of civilization. They move from country to country as the center of power shifts - like they moved from Ancient Greece to Rome." 

"I couldn't have said it better." Something in Chiron's voice had changed. "So, you already know the gods are real. You have both already been claimed, haven't you?" 

"Maybe," Jason answered. 

"We can't remember," y/n said. 

The leopard on the wall snarled, and Chiron studied them for a moment, waiting. y/n realized after a moment that Chiron had switched to another language, and she and Jason understood it fluently. 

"Quis erat-" Jason faltered, as if the language was automatic. "What was that?" 

"You know Latin," Chiron observed. "Most demigods recognize a few phrases, of course. It's in their blood, but not as much as Ancient Greek. None can speak Latin fluently without practice." 

y/n frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she could speak Latin, of all languages. Why couldn’t it be french, german, maybe? It felt so familiar on her tongue as she spoke it, the same as in her ears when Jason and Chiron did. 

"I taught your namesake, you know - the original Jason," Chiron said. "He had a hard path. I've seen many heroes come and go. Occasionally, they have happy endings. Mostly, they don't. It breaks my heart, like losing a child every time one of my pupils dies. But you two are unlike any pupils I've ever taught. Your presence here could be a disaster." 

"Thanks," Jason muttered. "You must be an inspiring teacher." 

"You should look into motivational speaking if you get bored here," y/n grumbled. 

Chiron sighed quietly. "I am sorry. But it's true. I had hoped after Percy's succeeded in the Titan War and saved Mount Olympus, we might have some peace. I might be able to enjoy one final triumph, a happy ending, and perhaps retire quietly. I should have known better. The last chapter approaches, just as it did before. The worst is yet to come." 

A heavy blanket of gloom seemed to rest over the entire room. 

"Okay," Jason said. "So - last chapter, happened before, worst yet to come. Sounds fun, but can we get back to the part where I'm supposed to be dead? I don't like that part." 

“Why not?” y/n asked, rolling her eyes as she looked at him with annoyance clear on her eyes. “I like it very much. Sounds appealing, doesn’t it?” It was as if the tease just had to leave her. She didn’t understand where all that came from.  

“Oh, fuck off for a moment.” He grumbled and flipped her off.  

"I'm afraid I can't explain, my boy. I swore on the River Styx and on all things sacred that I would never..." Chiron frowned. "But you're both here, a violation of the same oath. That, too, should not be possible. I don't understand. Who would've done such a thing? Who-" 

Seymour howled, his mouth freezing halfway. The fire stopped crackling, its flames hardening like red glass. 

Everything seemed to just... stop. 

"Chiron?" Jason asked. "What's going-" 

Chiron was frozen, too. Jason and y/n stood up, but Chiron's eyes didn't waver. His mouth was open mid-sentence, and he sat there, not blinking or even breathing from the looks of it. 

"Tell me you're seeing this, too," Jason whispered, reaching for y/n’s hand instinctively. 

She squeezed it tightly, not even noticing at first. She glanced down at it, and decided to stay holding it. It was the only sign that they both weren’t crazy. "Frozen centaur? Yeah, I see it." 

Jason, a voice spoke. y/n. 

A dark mist poured from Seymour's mouth. Storm spirits, she thought, her free hand going to her pocket and taking her key out. She and Jason both summoned their weapons. 

The mist shaped itself into a woman in black robes. 

Her face was hooded, but her eyes glowed in the darkness. Over her shoulders was a goat-skin cloak, falling down her back and brushing the floor. y/n recognized the cloak for some reason, and she knew somehow that it was important - that it was much more than a strange fashion choice. 

Would you attack your patron, Jason? the woman chided. Her voice seemed to echo in y/n’s mind, bypassing her ears entirely. Lower your swords. The two of you. 

"Who are you?" Jason demanded. "How did you—?" 

Our time is limited. My prison grows stronger by the hour. It took me a full month to gather enough energy to work even the smallest magic through its bonds. I've managed to bring you two here, but now I have little time left, and even less power. This may be the last time I can speak to either of you. 

"You're in prison?" Jason questioned, still not lowering his sword. "Look, I don't know you, and you're not my patron." 

You know me, the woman insisted. I have known you since your birth, Jason. 

"I don't remember," Jason said. "I don't remember anything." 

No, you don't, she agreed. Neither of you do. That was also necessary. Long ago, Jason, your father gave me your life as a gift to placate my anger. He named you Jason, after my favorite mortal. You belong to me, Jason. And unfortunately, she’s way too useful to be left behind.  

"Hey!” y/n protested.  

"Whoa," Jason said, ignoring her completely. Something told y/n that this was something he often did. "I don't belong to anyone." 

Now is the time to pay your debt, she said. Find my prison. The girl has the key to unlock me. Free me, or their king will rise from the earth, and I will be destroyed. You will never retrieve your memories. 

"You stole our memories?" y/n asked, her eyes narrowing at the hooded woman. "And you want us to help you?" 

You have until sunset on the solstice. Four short days. Do not fail me. 

The dark woman dissolved, the mist curling into Seymour's mouth. 

Time unfroze. Seymour's howl tapered off into a cough. The fire crackled to life and Chiron continued, 

"—would dare to bring you here?" 

"My guess is the lady in the mist," y/n muttered. 

Chiron looked up at them in surprise. "Weren't you just sitting... why are your swords drawn?" 

"I hate to tell you this," Jason said, "but I think your leopard just ate a goddess." 

He proceeded to Chiron what had happened when time froze. 

"Oh, dear," Chiron murmured. "That does explain a lot." 

"It does?" y/n asked. "Care to fill us in?" 

"Please," Jason added. 

Before Chiron could say anything else, the front door to the Big House blew open and Annabeth and another girl, a redhead, burst in, dragging an unconscious Piper between them. 

"What happened?" y/n asked, rushing over to them with Jason close behind, both of their swords abandoned on the coffee table. "What's wrong with her?" 

"Hera's cabin," Annabeth gasped, like they'd run all the way to the house. "Vision. Bad." 

The redhead looked up, and y/n saw tears on her cheeks. "I..." She gulped. "I think I may have killed her." 

                           𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

The redhead – who, later, y/n discovered to be named Rachel Dare – had not, in fact, killed Piper. She was still breathing, though she couldn't seem to wake up. 

Ophelia didn't like the sight of the girl so pale and sickly, as if Hades himself had come up to the mortal world to take away her soul but forgot to do so. y/n was positive she didn't know the girl, not like she knew Jason, but they had survived a battle with storm spirits and a chariot crash within the span of just a few hours - things like that bonded people. 

Chiron put his hand on Piper's forehead, grimacing. 

"Her mind is in a fragile state. Rachel, what happened?" 

Rachel shook her head slightly. "I wish I knew," she said. "As soon as I got to camp, I had a premonition about Hera's cabin. I went inside. Annabeth and Piper came in while I was there. We talked, and then- I just blanked out. Annabeth said I spoke in a different voice." 

"A prophecy?" Chiron asked. 

"No. The spirit of Delphi comes from within. I know how that feels. This is like long distance, a power trying to speak through me." 

Annabeth ran into the room carrying a leather pouch. 

She knelt next to Piper. "Chiron, what happened back there - I've never seen anything like it. I've heard Rachel's prophecy voice. This was different. She sounded like an older woman. She grabbed Piper's shoulders and told her-" 

"To free her from a prison?" Jason offered, looking at y/n with a grimace. The latter was still staring at the girl laid down in front of her, wondering what she could do to help – or rather, if she could really do anything to help.  

Annabeth stared at him. "How did you know that?" 

Chiron made a strange three-fingered gesture over his heart, like a ward against evil. y/n tried to ignore the unsettling feeling it gave her. "Jason, y/n, tell them. Annabeth, the medicine bag, please." 

Chiron trickled drops from a medicine vial into Piper's mouth as Jason explained the vision he and y/n had witnessed of the woman who claimed to be Jason's patron. 

"Does this happen often?" y/n chimed in when he was finished talking. "Supernatural phone calls from convicts demanding you bust them out of jail?" 

"Patron," Annabeth said, looking at Jason with a frown. "Not your godly parent?" 

"No, she said patron. She also said my dad had given her my life," Jason said. 

Annabeth's frown deepened. "I've never heard of anything like that before. You said the storm spirit on the skywalk - he claimed to be working for some mistress who was giving him orders, right? Could it be this woman you saw, messing with you?" 

"I don't think so," Jason said. "If she was my enemy, why would she be asking for my help? She's imprisoned. She's worried about some enemy getting more powerful. Something about a king rising from the earth on the solstice-" 

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her face losing its color. 

"Not Kronos. Please tell me it's not that." 

Chiron was quiet for a moment, checking Piper's pulse before he finally answered, "It is not Kronos. That threat is ended. But..." 

"But what?" Annabeth asked. 

Chiron closed his medicine bag. "Piper needs rest. We should discuss this later." 

"Or now," y/n said with a frown. "You said the greatest threat was coming. The last chapter?" 

"You can't possibly mean something worse than an army of Titans, right?" Jason asked.  

"Oh," Rachel said, her voice small. "Oh, dear. The woman was Hera. Of course. Her cabin, her voice. She showed herself to Jason and y/n at the same moment." 

"Hera?" Annabeth looked downright murderous. "She took you over? She did this to Piper?" 

"I think Rachel's right," Jason said. "The woman did seem like a goddess. And she wore this- this goatskin cloak. That's the symbol of Juno, isn't it?" 

"It is?" Annabeth scowled. "I've never heard that." 

Chiron nodded. "Of Juno, Hera's Roman aspect, in her most warlike state. The goatskin cloak was a symbol of the Roman soldier." 

"So, Hera is imprisoned?" Rachel asked. "Who could do that to the queen of the gods?" 

Annabeth crossed her arms. "Well, whoever they are, maybe we should thank them. If they can shut up Hera-" 

"Annabeth," Chiron warned, "she is still one of the Olympians. In many ways, she is the glue that holds the gods' family together. If she truly has been imprisoned and is in danger of destruction, this could shake the foundations of the world. It could unravel the stability of Olympus, which is never great even in the best of times. And if Hera has asked Jason and y/n for help-" 

"Fine," Annabeth grumbled. "Well, we know Titans can capture a god, right? Atlas captured Artemis a few years ago. And in the old stories, the gods captured each other in traps all the time. But something worse than a Titan...?" 

"Hera said she'd been trying to break through her prison bonds for a month," Jason said. 

"Which is how long Olympus has been closed," Annabeth said. "So, the gods must know something bad is going on." 

Jason sighed, a look of frustration on his face. "But why use her energy to send y/n and me here?" he asked. "She wiped our memories, plopped us into the Wilderness School field trip, and sent you a dream vision to come pick us up. Why are we so important? Why not just send up an emergency flare to the other gods - let them know where she is so they can bust her out?" 

"The gods need heroes to do their will down here on earth," Rachel said. "That's right, isn't it? Their fates are always intertwined with demigods." 

"That's true," Annabeth said, "but Jason's got a point. Why them? Why take their memories?" 

"I'd like to know that myself," y/n muttered. 

"Piper's involved somehow," Rachel said. "Hera sent her the same message- Free me. And, Annabeth, this must have something to do with Percy's disappearance." 

Annabeth looked at Chiron, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you so quiet, Chiron? What is it we're facing?" 

Chiron looked as if he'd aged ten years in a matter of minutes. "My dear, in this, I cannot help you. I am so sorry." 

Annabeth blinked. "You've never... you've never kept information from me. Even the last Great Prophecy-" 

"I will be in my office," Chiron announced, his voice heavy. "I need some time to think before dinner. Rachel, will you watch the girl? Call Argus to bring her to the infirmary, if you'd like. And Annabeth, you should speak with Jason and y/n. Tell them about- about the Greek and Roman gods." 

"But..." 

Chiron turned away, heading out of the room and down the hallway. Annabeth muttered something in Greek that y/n suspected wasn't too kind toward centaurs. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said. "I think us being here - I don't know. We've messed things up coming to the camp, somehow. Chiron said he'd sworn an oath and couldn't talk about it." 

y/n frowned, wanting to add that she definitely hadn’t asked to come to the camp, but she bit her tongue - it wasn't the time. 

 "What oath?" Annabeth demanded. "I've never seen him act this way. And why would he tell me to talk to you about the gods..." Her voice trailed off, looking at the two gold swords lying on the coffee table. She touched Jason's gingerly, like it might be hot. "Are these gold? Do you remember where you got it?" 

y/n shook her head, Jason doing the same. "We don't remember anything," she said. 

Annabeth nodded like she'd come up with a rather desperate plan. "If Chiron won't help, we'll need to figure things out ourselves. Which means... Cabin Fifteen. Rachel, you'll keep an eye on Piper?"  

"Sure," Rachel promised. "Good luck, you three."  

"Hold on," Jason said. "What's in Cabin Fifteen?"   

Annabeth stood. "Maybe a way to get your memories back." 

TAGLIST @maybxlle @sunshine-of-ur-life @liviessun @bellamysnatblida @mp-littlebit @cinemaconrad @eaterof-concrete

[justagalwhowrites]

CAN YOU WRITE A PRE-OUTBREAK ONESHOT WHERE JOEL TAKES CARE OF HER WHEN SHES SICK?? THAT WOULD BE SO CUTEE

Hi Bestie!

I know I said nothing new today but... I ended up with like 2 hours of writing time and decided to finally respond to an ask. I loved this prompt! Thank you SO MUCH - both for sending it in and (hopefully) patiently waiting for me to get to it. I love you!

Sick Leave

On a visit to Texas, you come down with appendicitis and Joel looks after his girl. Can be read independently, but is within the timeline of Lavender, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Lavender reader)

Warnings: None :) Just fluff

Length: 2.1K

Late July, 2002

“And who’s he?” You asked, all but swallowed by the nest of pillows at the head of the bed. 

“That’s Sonny,” Sarah said, curled up beside you, her head on your shoulder. “He’s a mobster, he’s like… the dangerous guy in town?” 

“He’s kinda cute,” you nodded. Sarah’s nose crinkled. “What? If he grew a mustache he’d kind of look like your dad…” 

“Oh, ugh!” She elbowed your ribs lightly, the way she normally would if you hadn’t just had surgery. You winced. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry…” 

“It’s ok,” you adjusted a bit, the spark of pain already fading. “I asked for that, calling your dad cute and all.” 

“Yeah, you kind of did,” she agreed, adjusting, too, so she was snuggled in around your arm. “Plus if you think he’s cute, you should see his body guard, Jason. He’s… ugh, he’s just so good. Oh, look, see? There he is.” 

You giggled a little. 

“He is cute,” you conceded. “Think I like Sonny more, though…” 

“Ugh, you would,” she scoffed. 

Sarah watched the melodrama intently and you just rested your head against hers, enjoying the chance to snuggle a bit with your favorite kid. It had been an unusual visit to Texas this time around. Instead of trying to cram as much fun stuff into the few weeks you were down as you possibly could, you’d come down with appendicitis just after you got into town. That had meant no trips to Six Flags, no midweek beach trips, not even any matinees to watch movies in the comfort of overpowered air conditioning. 

But it had also meant Sarah giving you a thorough education on her latest summer obsession - a soap opera called General Hospital - and Joel, waiting on you hand and foot. 

“Baby Girl?” You heard the front door close as Joel came in. “You forgetting that conversation we had about boundaries again?” 

“No!” Sarah called, rolling her eyes. 

Joel came into the bedroom, a drink carrier with three Diary Queen cups in hand. He shook his head. 

“Sure looks like ya are,” he said, setting the ice cream on the dresser. “Thought we decided to give her some space? Make sure you’re not jostling that incision and giving her time to rest?” 

“But Dad!” She groaned. “I never get to do this…” 

“She’s right, you know,” you said as Joel passed you your Oreo Blizzard. “I’m usually too far away for good soap opera girl time and we’re usually a little too busy when I’m in town to keep up with all the goings on in… where is this again?” 

“Port Charles,” Sarah said. Joel handed her a milkshake with a roll of his eyes. 

“Port Charles,” you said, smiling up at Joel. “So this, really, is vital stuff. Plus, I’ve learned that Jason is, apparently, cute.” 

“Cute, huh?” He asked, getting his own ice cream from the carrier and delicately climbing in on the other side of you. 

“Oh yeah,” Sarah said. “I mean, have you seen him? Those arms!” 

“I do know a thing or two about liking men with nice arms,” you said, giving Joel a teasing look. He shook his head, grinning slightly. 

“Aren’t you a little young to be lookin’ at men’s arms?” Joel asked, leaning over you a little to look at his daughter. 

“Dad, I’m 13,” she rolled her eyes. 

“You’ve been 13 for a week,” he muttered. 

“13 is 13, love,” you took a bite of your Blizzard. “Better get used to it.” 

When Sarah got up to run to the bathroom during the commercial, Joel adjusted your pillows and tucked you against his side. 

“Seriously,” he said, his voice low. “You need to be resting, I can take her out of the house…” 

“Hon, I’ve been in bed for three days,” you smiled at him. “I am resting.” 

“Just worried about you,” he kissed your temple. “Scared the hell outta me…” 

He’d been like this since you’d gotten sick in the first place. 

The first few days of your trip had been fine. There was the ceremonial visit to your favorite Mexican place in town - always the first stop you made besides dropping bags off at Joel’s house. 

Sarah was old enough now that she could stay home on her own in the evenings, so you and Joel went with Tommy and a girl he was seeing - you hadn’t bothered to learn her name, you could already tell she wasn’t going to stick - to listen to music the night your flight got in. The next day you spent in the pool, watching Joel grill from the inflatable lounge chair he’d gotten just for you, margarita in hand. 

“You’re lookin’ mighty comfortable there, Baby,” he teased. 

You shrugged and sipped your drink. 

“Might just have to move in,” you said. “Poolside cocktail service is a really nice perk…” 

You woke up the next day feeling like shit. 

It was like a switch had flipped. You went to bed feeling fine - slightly tipsy, but fine. More than fine after Joel got done with you. And then, right around six in the morning, you were running to the bathroom to puke. 

“Shit, baby,” Joel was sitting on the bathtub next to you, one hand on your back, rubbing in broad circles between your shoulder blades, the other holding your hair in his fist. “Maybe I didn’t cook the chicken all the way through…” 

“When have you ever fucked up on the grill?” You asked, resting your cheek on your arm as it draped against the toilet seat. Joel’s eyes went a little wide. 

“You don’t think you’re…” he broke off. You raised your eyebrows and tried not to laugh. 

“Don’t think morning sickness, shows up two days after you sleep with someone,” you said. “And it’s been a few months since I was here over spring break, I think it would have started sooner than now if I were knocked up.” 

“Right,” he nodded, looking relieved. “Right…” 

“I just picked up a stomach bug at the airport,” you sighed. “Make sure you and Sarah wash your hands a TON, they’re nasty little fuckers…” 

You totally lost your appetite and a fever showed up that afternoon. Joel refused to keep his distance, sending Sarah to stay with Lizzy while he brought you a steady stream of Jell-o, chicken broth and popsicles. 

“You’re going to get yourself sick,” you said the second night you felt like crap. You were lying on your side, Joel wrapped around you, his broad shoulders enveloping you, his hand splayed over your stomach. 

“Don’t care,” he kissed the crown of your head. “Need you at least this close. You’re too fuckin’ far away all the time, not going to let a little stomach flu keep me from touchin’ you while I can.” 

You weren’t noble enough to fight him on it. You had nasty stomach cramps all day on top of everything else. Being held by Joel was about the only thing that made you feel better.

It was about four in the morning when the feeling in your stomach went from cramps to sharp, stabbing pain. It jerked you out of a sound sleep, your hand flying behind you to Joel’s hip, your nails digging into him as you fought to breathe through the agony of it. 

“Baby?” Joel’s voice was thick with sleep. “What’s goin’ on, you OK? Need somethin’?” 

“I think I need to go to the hospital,” you managed through gritted teeth. “I don’t think this is a stomach bug, I think it’s appendicitis…” 

Joel was wide awake then, rushing to put on a shirt and helping you sit up in bed. You winced as you moved, gritting your teeth, the pain sharp. 

“Hold on, Baby,” Joel tucked an arm below your knees and the other around your ribs, tugging you to his side. “I’ve got you…” 

He lifted you off the bed and carried you down the stairs as gently as he could, cradling your feverish body to his chest. He lowered you gingerly into the passenger seat of his truck and buckled you in before he drove to the hospital, going at least 10 over the speed limit the whole way. 

Joel paced the whole time you sat in the ER, going up to talk to someone at the nurses’ station every five minutes until they got you back to be evaluated. 

“Oh,” the doctor said as she looked at your stomach on an ultrasound. “We need to get you back now. Right now. This looks like it’s about to rupture.” 

“Shit,” Joel paced, like a caged animal. The second the doctor left to go arrange emergency surgery, he took your hand, holding it tight. 

“Baby,” you said, voice calm. “It’s an easy surgery, it hardly even counts as surgery, you don’t need to be worried…” 

“They were ready to leave you in the damn waiting room all day,” he frowned. “Then what would have happened?” 

“The surgeon would have had a harder job,” you said. “Joel, hon, it’s fine.” 

He was like that until they took you back for surgery, glaring at doctors and nurses as they whisked you away. 

When you woke up a few hours later, he was there, bouquet of daisies in his hands and a relieved smile on his face. 

“Do me a favor and try real hard to not scare me like that again,” he said, brushing your hair back from your face. 

“I’ll try my best,” you smiled a little. 

But ever since, he’d stuck close by.

“You know,” you said, looking up at him, poking at your Blizzard with the long, red spoon. “I was thinking…” 

“Always dangerous when it comes to you,” he said. You glared at him. 

“Anyway,” you said. “I was thinking… I should probably start doing a bit more. It’s been a few days, I’m feeling pretty good…” 

“Baby,” he sighed. 

“Come on,” you pouted a little. “I’m getting restless.” 

He sighed again. 

“What were you thinkin’?” 

You smiled. 

“Nothing crazy,” you said. “Just… could we do BBQ for dinner? Maybe try to go see a movie tomorrow? We haven’t made it to Men in Black II yet and Sarah really liked the first one…” 

“How about we start with the BBQ and see how you’re doin’ in the morning,” he kissed your temple. “Not gonna let you push it…” 

Joel made sure you had plenty of water and a book before he and Sarah went to pick up dinner, giving you a lingering kiss on your forehead as he left. 

They came home with enough BBQ to feed a small army and made you a plate with brisket and Mac and cheese, your favorites. But they also picked up Men in Black from Blockbuster, along with an ample supply of Mike and Ikes, popcorn and Sno-Caps. While you were getting cleaned up in the bathroom, Joel and Sarah set up the bed with three tray tables and a nest of pillows big enough for all of you to recline and watch the movie. He even lit a candle - lavender scented - on the nightstand. 

“Joel!” You gaped at him. “What’s all this?” 

“Figured we can do it up right,” he said, tucking you into bed and setting the tray table over your legs. 

The three of you had dinner and cuddled close in bed, laughing at Will Smith getting thrown around by aliens. Sarah fell asleep, her head against your shoulder. Joel put on When Harry Met Sally once the first movie ended. 

“I’m sorry this trip has been such a bust,” you said softly as he ran one hand gently up and down your arm. 

He frowned. 

“What are you talkin’ about?” He asked. “Hasn’t been a bust. You know how grateful I am this happened when you were here and not all the way in New York? How glad I am that I got to be the one to take care of you? I’d have been fuckin’ terrified, you all the way up there with just your grandmother to look after you, somethin’ like this happens. Besides, I’ve gotten to spend a week laying around in bed with my girls, not arguin’ with that.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Still,” you said. “Think we should try for the movie tomorrow. Not sure Sarah’s soaps are quite my speed.” 

“If you’re up for it,” he kissed your temple. “But if you need another day or two of rest, don’t fight it. Just let me look after my girl, OK?” 

You closed your eyes, content. 

“OK.” 

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this little drabble of Joel being all soft and caring! It was really fun to write him being all fluffy and worried.

For those wanting some insight into who they're talking about at the beginning, I give you Sonny Corinthos from General Hospital:

And Jason Morgan from General Hospital:

You know. For science.

I'm going to go ahead and tag the usual Lavender crowd here. I hope that's OK!!! I'm sorry if it's not and I hope it's not too annoying!

Taglist: @paleidiot@ayamenimthiriel@ginger-swag-rapunzel@drewharrisonwriter@flugazi @pedropascalsbbg@taoyuji@starstruckmusiciansartghost@splendsay@bigboiseason123@jpbplvr @ashleyandring @mrsyixingunicorn10@sloanexx@ninaminaromina @lady-bellyn @hufflepuffriver @sarap-77 @storyarcscribe @mellymbee @jasminedragoon @lemonmeli @reds-ramblings@arizonadaydreamer@mumma-moonchild@blackroseguzzi@candypeaches16@kittenlittle24@wrappedinfiction@oatmeaiboy@pedritosdarling@winchestergypsy90@imnotdatboii @lalalalemonade11 @maknimuk1@mrsdarcyinlovewithbuckybarnes@pedrosaidsheispunk@commanderawkward@n7cje@elliesgirlll@tsunamistorm123@spookyxsam@leeeesahhh @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @pedropascalfan221 @pedr0swh0r3 @pedrobae@fifia-writes@fatima-marisa @acf2023 @1soff@encephalitiskat

Thank you so much for reading and being here! Love you all!

[yelenasfloppyhand]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you could write a Jason Gideon x Reader where Gideon has insecurities and gets jealous easily (because there's an age gap and because the reader is drop dead gorgeous). If you could also add the reader reassuring him and telling him everything the reader feels for him (in the context that all that hadn't been spoken out loud yet) that would be awesome.

If you don't want to write this fanfic then that's totally okay! If you do write it though, please tag me, because I really don't want to miss that!

Have a lovely day! <3

Thank you so so much for the amazing request @leylovestaytay I hope I was able to execute this in the way you wanted it to be.

Jason Gideon × gn!reader

Summary: he's jealous and you aren't sure why, until you confront him about his feelings.

Warnings: none? Age gap mention.

"What was that?" Your normally cheerful tone suddenly shifted, a small scowl now apparent on your usually smiling face. As you and the kind detective were casually joking with one another during the investigation of a case, Gideon suddenly interjected, making a sharp comment that you both should be working rather than 'sitting on your asses and talking.'

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What was what?" he asked in genuine confusion, as if his behavior thirty minutes ago was either normal or hadn't even happened at all. With his arms crossed over his casual t-shirt and blue overshirt, he looked like any other guy. The fact that someone as well known as Jason Gideon dressed so casually was impressive, comforting, and helped you to see him not as some revered criminal profiler, but as just another person.

"What is wrong with you today? You normally don't care when I sit back and take a break, in fact you encourage taking a break from working. So I'll ask you again what was that?" Your tone felt unnatural and uncomfortable on your tongue, almost like a bitter taste that won't go away.

"Nothing is wrong with me today." Unusually he doesn't defend himself, infact you would almost think he was completely innocent if you hadn't witnessed the event it's self. "Did I do something wrong, did I upset you?" You ask, almost hesitantly.

This time when his eyebrows furrow they take on a more horrified expression. "Why do you think you did something wrong?" He sighs slightly, clearly upset by your assumption that you'd done something to upset him. In his eyes you were perfect, to him you had no flaws, to him it was like aphrodite had sculpted you herself. But that was the problem, you unintentionally were his problem, you were gorgeous and young, full of life even. And that absolutely terrified him, he'd been held at gunpoint, he'd watched people die and yet nothing terrified him more than his own feelings.

You shrug, "I don't know. You just seem..." You find it hard to search for the correct words to display how you truly feel, and the truth is that you don't know how you feel, of course you know, but you don't actually know. You know that you would do anything for the man in front of you, you know that you would give your life for his, that if the chance arose you would love him -if he let you-.

"Upset? At you?" He asks with a soft almost sad smile. He sighs "Oh Birdie" you could feel your lips twitch at the nickname. Once he'd invited you round to his apartment for dinner as a thank you for saving his ass on a case, and you'd asked about a book on his shelf about birds, he had spent a good half an hour talking about his love for birds, which were his favourite and why. So for his 49th birthday you'd painted him a watercolour bird, you'd never seen him tear up before that moment, he had felt truly touched by the gesture, he treasured the painting even going as far as to keep it on his desk next to pictures of his son.

"What?.." You fiddled nervously with the button of your cardigan. His saddened look at the way in which he softly uttered your nickname caused butterflies to arise in your stomach, this wasn't an unfamiliar feeling when you were around him, in fact you'd become accustomed to the feeling each time you made eye contact, or each time he uttered your name. This time however it felt different, like the stars had aligned in the midnight sky.

"I'm not upset at you, honestly it would take a lot for you to even annoy me. It's not you" His words feel heavy, like they sink in the air before my brain absorbs them.

"What is it then?" You ask with perplexed expression, you felt genuinely lost.

He lets out a chuckle, nervousness painting his features as his lips pull up onto a smile. "It's not you I'm upset at, I guess I'm upset at myself." He frowns slightly before staring at a nearby tree. "Did you know that birds are monogamous?" He asks casually.

"... I didn't" you respond slowly. "I'm sorry I don't really understand where this is going, unfortunately I lack social skills." Although it wasn't a joke you were certain it sounded like one.

"After I divorced my wife Jill I had assumed that was it, that I'd never be able to find love again because of this job. It felt wrong... the way you made me feel, the way you make me feel. I hate it, but I love it and I know I shouldn't. You're not exactly someone a man my age should be attracted to." He sounds almost ashamed by his own words and feelings, like he gets stabbed in the heart with each word he says.

"I'm 38... I'm hardly young." You laugh finding it almost funny, of course you aren't laughing at him, but almost the irony, you'd often told yourself that it wasn't right to be attracted to your boss, the man was not only your superior but also older than you. "I'm still lost... about the bird thing." You admit sheepishly.

He chuckles before continuing. "I thought that I was a bird, that I would only ever have the experience of love once, that I would only be granted the experience of being loved. What I'm trying to say... is that I think I would like to love you." He seems confused at his own words, his eyes closing with a sigh as he drops his head to his chest.

"... is that why you told me off earlier?" You ask with a small smirk.

"I didn't like that guy, he kept staring at you like a piece of meat." Gideon frowns, in all honesty he was annoyed that the man was making you smile, he felt annoyed when he realised that you could have anyone in thr word that you wanted, after all the detective was closer to your age.

"Oh my god you're jealous" you laugh. "The Jason Gideon who is as cool as a cucumber was jealous of some detective." You throw your head back as you laugh. He began to chuckle along side you, the sond was like a song from the heavens. Your laughs mixing together beautifully.

"I would like to love you too." You admit comfortably.

Note: I am really sorry if this isn't well written or up to a good enough standard (I actually don't have an excuse I'm just a bad writer 😭)

[frownyalfred]

What hair styles do you have in mid when you think of the Batfam? Their hair of course changes depending on the years and who draws them, but there's like a certain default style that each person typically gets drawn in. What is yours?

Despite being a very visual person, I usually don't get super fixated on how the character looks while I'm writing them. Is that odd? I'm not sure. There's a few exceptions (Lex in ASOH, Clark in bloodletting, etc) but usually I describe the outlines of what I want readers to notice, and let them fill in the stuff that isn't super important to my visualization.

But in general?

I like Dick's hair longer and slightly wavy. I think it's stupid he doesn't wear a helmet and has it out, especially long enough to grab a handful, but it's pretty. I get it. It's dark and has lots of layers.

Bruce's hair is just at the edge of what's acceptably long enough to be gelled back. Dark, but not quite as dark as Dick's hair. Thick, and he starts going grey at the temples around his mid to late thirties.

Tim -- anything that isn't a buzzcut, tbh. Bald Tim traumatized me. I think he has slightly lighter hair than the other Robins -- more of a dark brown. Gets a little red in the summer.

Jason, I like with more of a tapered fade with it longer on top to highlight his white streak. It's a little curly if he doesn't style/cut it.

Damian -- I don't have an opinion, though sometimes people draw him with really weird short hair to kind of make him seem childish on purpose? I think he should have Talia's hair tbh.

Cass, hot take -- it should either be really short so she can put it up under her cowl, or long enough to braid back. Having it in the middle and layered just means it's harder to keep manageable. (Before anyone jumps in to ask why I don't have the same problem for Dick, he refuses to wear anything on his head and has clearly accepted the risk of getting yanked around by his hair. Cass is smarter than that lol)

Steph -- same as Cass, I like her hair blonde but it's also very bright and recognizable which is a problem I have with Kate's hair too. If the hair is part of the costume and it's unusual, that's terrible for your secret identity. And if it's down all the time, it's sweaty and in your face. As someone who braids her hair back in the gym frequently, once it hits a certain length you really have to do something.

Duke -- I really love all of the various hairstyles he's had, but same issue as Cass arises. It's gotta fit under the cowl.

Bonus: Alfred. I love Jeremy Irons' version, I can't lie. His full head of hair but grey worked really well. Bald/thinning hair Alfred is a canon staple, don't get me wrong. But it gives him even more elegance/regality in my mind, you know? I love young michael caine as an inspo for him, those blonde curls were something else.

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

omegaverse nursing

feral omega murder-nanny Jason and pup Damian in the League

Krypton lives and Kara did not sign up for this

Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good!

YJ accidental baby acquisition

snippet from "YJ accidental baby acquisition":

"Thank you," Tim says, dropping the swab into the evidence bag. Kenley eyes him sourly for a last long moment, then makes a point of looking at Vic instead. Tim feels distinctly ignored. 

That's definitely not because Kenley's stopped seeing him as a potential threat, he knows, and can't help suspecting it's that they trust Kon more than they don't trust him. 

Or they think Kon's going to be easier to manipulate than the rest of them, given the clone factor, and–

"You're doing good, Kenley," Kon says, giving Kenley another gentle little squeeze. Tim remembers, again, how quickly he had that name to hand. "Want a lollipop or something after this? Gar's probably got some kicking around if Bart doesn't.” 

"Why?" Kenley asks. 

"This is basically your first doctor's appointment," Kon says reasonably. "Lollipops are traditional, right?" 

". . . hm," Kenley says, brow just barely creasing assessingly. 

"Kon, they've never eaten anything in their life and you want to start them off with candy?" Cassie asks, putting her hands on her hips and looking exasperated by the idea. 

"Yeah," Kon replies with a shrug. "Tasting stuff for the first time is really overwhelming, simpler flavors are easier to start with. Not gonna want to order them paneer right now, you know? Maybe get them some of those bottled smoothies to start, actually, on that note. I puked the first couple times I tried eating and I'm pretty sure my teenage stomach was more capable of handling solid food than a kindergarten one is gonna be. Plus sugar tastes good, and Kenley should get to taste something good for their first time." 

"Oh, uh, good idea," Cassie says, blanching slightly. Tim empathizes with the urge to backpedal on saying the wrong thing here. Deeply empathizes. He's not sure it would've even occurred to him to make sure that Kenley's first experience with taste was a positive one or that they might have trouble with solid food right off the bat, himself. 

Kon's "ours" comment is both making more and more sense and also is probably for the best, at this point. 

“What flavor do you wanna try?” Bart asks Kenley, peering curiously at them. “Wonder Girl's favorite is cherry and mine's orange and Robin's is green apple, so you might like one of those or you could try–” 

“Mango,” Kenley says, burying their face in Kon's chest and gripping his jacket again. 

. . . that's Kon's favorite, Tim knows. 

And he'd be a lot less concerned by that choice if Bart had actually mentioned that fact. Especially because mango is a much, much more specific and unusual candy flavor than something like grape or lemon.

[bestie-enthusiast]

Hello Falsettos fandom. I’ve fallen down a Christian Borle rabbit whole and have some gifts for you <3

Nighttime blues

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Characters: Whizzer, Marvin, Jason

Relationship: Whizzer/Marvin

Summary: Marvin got nightmares, and Whizzer slept through them. This was part of the dynamic. Whizzer was none the wiser to the fact that Marvin regularly woke up, soaked their pillows with tears, and then fell back asleep.

Marvin got nightmares, and Whizzer slept through them. This was part of the dynamic. Marvin would cry as quietly as possible until he fell back asleep, and Whizzer would get his beauty sleep, it worked for both of them.

Marvin was glad Whizzer slept deeply, he always felt guilty when he’d wake Trina up, either from flailing around or from crying out. Whizzer sleeping deeply also meant that Marvin could easily tuck himself into his arms without waking him up, though Whizzer would occasionally question in the mornings how they had switched who was spooning who.

It worked, and Whizzer was none the wiser to the fact that Marvin regularly woke up, soaked their pillows with tears, and then fell back asleep, and Marvin was fine with this. Happy even, he didn’t have to feel guilty about Whizzer waking up, and he didn’t have to answer any questions about his nightmares. It worked.

Except- Except sometimes, Marvin wakes up and he wants nothing more than for Whizzer to- well, rub his back or tell him it’ll be okay or even talk about his nightmares. Something. Anything. But he doesn’t, and Marvin is fine with that. Really, he is.

It’s better for him to deal with it alone, when he can just cry it out, hyperventilate until he passes out, and then wake up in the morning more or less fine. At the very least, Whizzer likes to be the big spoon and Marvin- though he’d never admit it out loud- much preferred being the little spoon. He fell asleep much easier when he was being held, which felt a bit pathetic to admit, but whatever. Whizzer made him feel small, but in a good way? It’s difficult to explain. It was just nice.

Tonight, however, was different. Whizzer was sick- it was nothing serious, just a cold, but he was congested and had been complaining all day about not being able to sleep as a result. He was holding Marvin against his chest, squeezing him like a teddy bear as he laid awake. Marvin had fallen asleep easily, exhausted after working, then coming home and fretting over Whizzer.

In these unusual circumstances where Whizzer was awake while Marvin was not, Whizzer was given a front row seat to a show he’d never been privy to before. He was absentmindedly tracing shapes down Marvin’s bare back when he’d started twitching, a frown overtaking his previously content expression.

Whizzer paused his movement, watching as Marvin’s frown grew deeper and his brow furrowed. His own face contorted into a frown when he watched Marvin’s lip quiver and his hands clench into tight fists. Whizzer gently stroked his hair, murmuring soft words to try and soothe him, but Marvin only became more distressed. He started squirming, tossing and turning, and Whizzers heart broke when he saw tears begin to fall.

Marvin woke up with a gasp, shooting into a sitting position as he frantically clawed at his chest. Whizzer sit’s up too, facing him and grabbing Marvin’s hands and looking into his eyes.

“Whizzer,” Marvin says, and it’s a mixture of shock and shame and relief. “You’re awake.” Whizzer stares at him, squinting. He’s still crying, tears flowing freely from his eyes, but he doesn’t look sad, he looks scared.

“Astute observation,” Whizzer snarks absentmindedly. He’s staring Marvin down like he’s a specimen in a lab. Marvin laughs, slightly hysterically, at the comment.

“Did I wake you?” Marvin asks, and it’s probably meant to be rude, but it comes out painfully raw. Whizzer looks at him and shakes his head.

“I couldn’t sleep,” He explains, tapping his nose. Marvin huffs another laugh and leans forward until his forehead is resting on Whizzers chest. Hesitantly, Whizzer begins to stroke Marvin’s hair again. They sit there, in almost silence, broken by Marvin sniffling and the soft noise of tears landing on fabric. “Do you want to talk about it?” Whizzer eventually asks, pausing in his ministrations of Martin’s scalp. Marvin shakes his head, looking up at Whizzer with the most heartbreaking expression on.

“No- no I can’t-“ Marvin explains, moving away. He turns his head downwards, staring at his hand as Whizzer stares at him.

Whizzer hums and lays back down, “that’s fine,” he murmurs softly, grabbing Marvin’s hips and pulling him down into his embrace. He kindly doesn’t comment on the way Marvin twists to bury his head in Whizzer’s chest. He strokes Marvin’s back and listens as Marvin slowly calms down, until his breathing is even and deep, back asleep.

Whizzer lays awake, thinking deeply. That had been an odd set of events, he’d never seen Marvin had a nightmare before. Of course, he knew everyone got them sometimes, but it’s odd to consider Marvin getting them. Was that the reason he always looked so drained in the mornings? He woke up and cried in the night?

God, Whizzer felt terrible. What if he had nightmares and Whizzer didn’t wake up? Marvin wouldn’t wake him up- for all he could be, well, himself, Marvin had some very intense sets of rules for what is appropriate behavior when it comes to inconveniencing others.

Marvin didn’t wake up again that night, but Whizzer did notice he had more nightmares, a quivering lip and small whimpers, a dead giveaway.

Whizzer did eventually fall asleep, but it was fitful and light. He woke up in the morning when Marvin got out of bed and pressed a kiss against his forehead. Marvin said something, but Whizzer didn’t process it, and then he was gone.

Whizzer didn’t do much during the day, other than try to figure out if he should bring up the previous night or not. He came to the conclusion of no, he should not.

He was a bit surprised when Jason arrived. He’d forgotten it was a Friday. It was a bit early for the kid to have arrived, but Whizzer didn’t question it, simply letting him in with a shrug.

“Hey kid,” he said, sniffling slightly. He ruffled the kid's hair and grabbed his bag from him. “You hungry?” Jason shrugged, walked over to the couch and sat. Whizzer set Jason's bag down and sat down too.

“Are you sick?” Jason asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows. Sometimes, Jason looks so much like his father it’s starting.

“Yeah I’m sick,” Whizzer answered, lying down and kicking his legs into the kids lap. Jason huffed a laugh and shoved his legs off. Whizzer put them back on his lap. Shove. Return. Shove. Return. Eye roll, TV channel change. Victory.

They sat like that for a while, until Marvin arrived home. He seemed relieved to see Jason there, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Your mother is displeased with you,” Marvin says, but his voice is soft. He shrugs off his jacket and grabs Jason’s bag, leaving momentarily and returning with neither items. “Hey baby,” Marvin murmurs into Whizzers ear as he presses a kiss to his cheek. “What would you two like for dinner?”

“Pizza!” Jason exclaimed quickly, looking at his dad with pleading eyes. Marvin looked at Wheezer who shrugged, smirking a bit. Marvin sighed.

“Pizza it is,” he says with fake exasperation. Jason gives Whizzer a high five as Marvin rolls his eyes and dials the number to a nearby pizza place.

Marvin sits on the ground in front of Whizzer as they watch TV. He pushes his head into Whizzers hand, just a bit, but enough for Whizzer to get the memo. He scratches Marvin’s head as a cartoon plays on the TV.

When there’s a knock on the door, Marvin goes to stand, but Jason’s rushes past, grabbing Marvin’s wallet off the table and heading to the door. Marvin laughs a bit when Jason turns with the pizza and places it on the coffee table.

“Ulterior motives.” Marvin accuses Jason, even as he stands to grab plates, which he brings into the sitting room. They sit and eat in front of the TV, much to Jason’s clear happiness. The kids are in a good mood, which is sort of rare.

After pizza has been devoured, more TV is watched and few words are spoken, until Marvin sends Jason to shower and then to bed.

Whizzer curls up in their bed, he’s starting to feel better, which is good. But he’s bored, he’s done nothing all day, and there’s very little that’s more entertaining than riling Marvin up. And he’s got a lovely new part of his material to tease him about- not the nightmares, he’s not a complete ass- the fact Marvin likes to be the little spoon.

When Marvin finally comes into their room, tossing on pajamas and crawling into bed, Whizzer didn’t just pull him into his chest like he normally does. He laid next to him, stroking his chest, but not cuddling. He can feel Marvin staring at him, and he’s struggling not to crack a smile as Marvin looks at him with furrowed brows.

He’s a bit surprised, and disappointed, when Marvin starts spooning him instead, but he’s not going to complain. He sighs constantly, but he can’t get comfortable. Marvin is stiff behind him, tense. “Whizzer?” He heard Marvin ask softly. He turns to face him.

“Yes?” Whizzer mumbled sleepily, he placed his head on Marvin’s chest, biting his lip to stop a growing grin when he heard Martin’s heart beating out of his chest.

“Can-“ Marvin sighs, and Whizzer presses a kiss to jaw. Marvin looks down at him, and Whizzer feels a bit giddy when he notices the dark blush spreading across Marvin’s face. “Can you-“

“Can I do what? Use your words,” Whizzer interrupts teasingly, trailing kisses down Marvin’s jaw and neck. Marvin huffs, looking mortified of himself. Whizzer feels a bit bad, so he helps him out. “Do you want me to be the big spoon?” He asks, voice teasing and genuine. Marvin nods, just a bit, and Whizzer can’t hold back his laugh. “Aww baby,” Whizzer coos, wrapping Marvin in his arms and kissing his shoulder. It’s so wonderful to feel Marvin melt against him, relaxing completely.

“Shut up,” Marvin mutters, even as he wraps his arms around Whizzer’s. Marvin falls asleep first again, but Whizzer is not far behind. It’s lighter than he normally sleeps however, so he wakes when he feels Marvin pull out of his hold. Even if he hadn’t, he’s sure the resounding thud Marvin made when he hit the floor would have woken him.

Whizzer scrambles to the edge of the bed, but Marvin is already sitting up and scrambling to press his back against the wall, clutching at his chest yet again. Whizzer looks at him, worried, but looks away when their door opens with a soft creak. Jason.

“Hey kid,” Whizzer greets gently, “Everything’s okay, your dad fell out of bed.” Jason looks at him, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and sleepily walks over to their bed and crawls up on it. Whizzer picks him up and drags him to the side of the bed facing the wall where the kid's father isn’t crying. He pets Jason’s head and tucks him in. “You sleepin’ in here?” Whizzer asks, but Jason is practically asleep already, just nodding slightly. Whizzer waits a few moments, before shuffling a bit away to look over at Marvin, who’s curled up in a little ball, eyes pressed into his knees and shoulders shaking.

Whizzer sighed, unsure of what to do. He looked over at Jason, then at Marvin, then at Jason, and then carefully slipped out of bed, sitting down on the floor next to Marvin, knocking their shoulders together. Marvin flinched, but looked over at him. He looked pathetic, face red and eyes puffy. Whizzer sighed and leaned his head on top of Marvin’s. “I love you,” Whizzer whispered into his hair.

“I love you too,” Marvin whispered hoarsely, tears quietly soaking into the fabric of Whizzers shirt. “I have nightmares about my parents.” Whizzer stayed silent, sitting and listening. Marvin dragged in a shaky breath and continued, “They didn’t like me very much. I’m scared of them, and of being them. I dream of-” Marvin swallowed, and wiped at his eyes, “I dream of my childhood, and of inflicting the pain I suffered on- on Jason.” He admitted in a whisper, pulling away from Whizzer.

He looked so damn guilty, and Whizzer- Whizzer didn’t know what to do. He took Marvin’s face in his hands, and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you,” Whizzer repeated, “The fact you're scared of hurting Jason proves how good you are.” Marvin shook his head and tried to pull away, but Whizzer didn’t let him. “You’re a good man, Marvin.” Whizzer told him firmly, hugging him when Martin just crumpled, sobbing silently into Whizzer’s chest. Whizzer rubbed his back and murmured soft comforting words until Martin finally ran out of tears.

He helped Marvin back into bed, shaking his head when Marvin looked over at Jason and back at him with confusion. Jason laid on the left side of the bed, Marvin in the middle, and then Whizzer on the right side. He held Marvin tightly, kissing the back of his head. “Sleep,” Whizzer whispered, closing his eyes. Marvin listened, and for the first time in a long time, didn’t have another nightmare.

[spookysteddie]

Between The Bookshelves

18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader (Slightly modern AU cause I just cant help myself)

Content Warnings: bullying, Eddie kinda threatens to punch Dustin, mutual pining, Eddie talks bad about himself, slight self loathing, a mention of vomit (no actual sickness), public displays of affection, kissing, kissing in public, implications of sex, swearing.

A/N: reupload due to a formatting error 🥰

…

Everyone said being friends with Eddie Munson was social suicide. That talking to the “freak” would ruin a person image, and furthermore, their life.

It was quite ridiculous. Sure, Eddie did a good job of making fun of himself, therefore making it harder for anyone to realistically bully him. He took the story in his own hands, something you thought was sweet. And to be perfectly honest, you thought he was cute. Of course that was something you kept to yourself… sort of.

Eddie’s yelling is what pulls your attention that day at lunch, “THAT’S WHAT’S KILLING THE KIDS!” He lets some cheerleaders walk past him, smiling at them warmly. You cant help but laugh. Not at him, per say.

Your friends sneer, looking at him like hes not more than dirt on the bottom of their shoe, “he’s sincerely so annoying. If he didn’t fuck around, he might actually be cute.” Piper has a habit of hating anyone who is different from her. That wasn’t unusual.

But that also wasn’t how you rolled. Sure, you were friends, but it didn’t mean you condoned that behavior. “Piper, don’t talk like that. You just don’t like him cause he’s different and loud.” Now its your turn to roll your eyes at her.

“Why are you sticking up for him? Do you see the way he acts? He’s just as much of a bully as the basketball players are.” Jason mutters from beside you. It was frustrating talking to people who couldn’t accept that someone is different from them.

So, you get up, tossing the rest of your uneaten lunch in the trash and deciding to take a walk. You couldn’t stand your friends, but you also didn’t want to drop them. Making friends wasn’t easy and the last thing you wanted was to be eating alone at lunch. So, you dealt with it. They never said anything to anyone they disliked so you figured they wouldn’t be that bad.

You wrap your arms around yourself, walking deeper into the woods. You couldn’t wait to graduate, leaving Hawkins behind to go to a college in a warm climate.

You hit something hard, making you let out a small yelp.

“Oh! I am so sorry I wasn’t… paying attention.” Eddie Munson is staring down at you, holding your arms and keeping you steady.

You laugh awkwardly, your face growing warm from embarrassment, you should’ve been watching where you were going, “N-no I should be sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” You can practically feel the lightening coming from the spots where he is holding you.

And you’re almost sad when he lets go, immediately missing his heat as he steps back, “have nothing to be sorry ‘bout sweetheart. I’m the one who needs to be more careful. Don’t wanna mark up your pretty skin.” He shooks you a wink and a little smile. And it’s then that you realize just how devastatingly beautiful you find him?

“I- I better get to fourth period. Ms. Carlisle will kill me if I’m late.” You mutter, your eyes barely meeting his, arms still wrapped around yourself.

“Be safe out there sweetheart, there are some scary men in this school.” He laughs a little, awkwardly tapping your shoulder in a friendly way. You know he’s referring to himself, but little did he know, you didn’t find him scary in the slightest.

…

It’s been close to three days since Eddie’s little encounter with you in the woods. And he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since. Of course, he hasn’t stopped thinking about you since fifth grade when you gave him a Valentine with his favorite candy at the schools Valentine’s Day party.

He knows it’s stupid, he just doesn’t care.

Well, that and the fact that he knows you could never like someone like him. Because, frankly, being friends with him equaled social suicide. And dating him? Practically the end of the world. And he couldn’t lie, that knowledge did kind of hurt him. But he would never show it, nor tell anyone. He only had a few months before he was finally out of that shit hole they called Hawkins high.

But, he couldn’t deny the electricity he felt in his finger tips as he steadied you. It wasn’t anything he’s ever felt before but it damn sure was something he wanted to feel again.

“Dude what is wrong with you today?” Dustin hits his elbow off the table, nearly making Eddie smack his face.

Jokingly, he punches Dustin in the arm, “nothing? I’m just super stressed about passing. S’all.”

They all know that’s bullshit, “Dude you’ve been staring that they girl over there like a god damn stalker. You like her or somethin’?”

He knew he could easily lie. In fact, that’s exactly what he should’ve done. But he doesn’t, knowing Dustin would eventually draw it out of him. “Okay kind of? But I barely know her. And besides, she wont like me back so I’m not worryin’ myself with it. Frankly, I wanna get the fuck out of this school.”

That was the truth. He needed out, and he needed it now. But he wouldn’t drop out. No way. He swore he’d never be like his father and he meant it. He was graduating even if it damn near kills him.

Dustin looks over at Mike, rolling his eyes and muttering a “he’s as oblivious as we thought.”

Eddie rears back, a little shocked, “I am not oblivious?”

Mike nods, taking a sip of his drink, “yes you are. She’s been sneaking look at you all lunch. And she looks away every time you guys lock eyes. Theoretically, you guys should just kiss in front of the entire school. Be less painful to watch then this…” he waves his hand around “this pining shit.”

Alls Eddie can do is blink at them, truly stunned that he was caught staring by his friends. And here he thought he was slick.

“Did you knuckleheads not hear a god damn thing I said?”

Dustin shakes his head, “we heard you. Just go get her number! She’s a girl. She isnt going to bite you… Well she might but only if you ask really, really nicely.” He flutters his lashes at Eddie, creeping in closer and grinning wildly

Eddie squints at him, “get away from me before I knock ya teeth out.”

“You’re a dick,” but he laughs anyway, knowing Eddie would never.

…

It’d been nearly a week now since you ran into Eddie. And since then, he’s done all he can to avoid you. You figured it was because he didn’t like you. That was until you caught him staring at you from the lunch table.

You also may have overheard the conversation. The tables were close enough.

And now, you had made the executive choice to get his number, maybe even invite him on a picnic.

“E-Eddie!” you call out to him, stopping him before he can get in his van.

He turns around, that devastatingly beautiful smile appearing. It nearly knocks you to the ground.

“Sweetheart! Hi. What can I do for you?” His voice light and sweet.

You cant help the shyness that creeps in. You always got nervous when you talked to others, more so people you didn’t know. Rejection wasn’t something you liked. Rocking on your toes, you take a deep breath, trying to remain cool, calm and collected.

“I, um…” you start quietly. “I just wanted to give you this… you don’t have to do anything with it. I mean, if you throw it away that-that’s your prerogative. But, um, if-if you didn’t do that… then feel free to use it!” You cut yourself off before you can ramble further. Piper told you that it’s annoying and unattractive which is the last thing you want to be to Eddie. You shakily hand him the paper, watching him open and smile at it.

“Aw, is this your number?” He’s not infantilizing you as he says it. He genuinely seems excited, though you can tell he’s trying to keep those feeling reigned in.

You nod, happy that he took it and didn’t reject you… yet. “It is. We should hang out sometime. Maybe see a movie or get ice cream.” You shrug, “ya know… whatever you think is fun.”

He smiles wider, making his eye crinkle a little. It’s cute. HE’S cute. And you knew that he could break your heart. But it didn’t matter. He could chew you up and spit you out and you’d thank him.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free.” And before you can answer, he hops in his van and drives away.

You take it as a win, for now.

…

Eddie cant deny the feeling inside his chest. It’s a mix of anxiety and pure delight. You actually gave him your number. AND invited him to hang out. And all he said was “I’ll let you know.”

“Idiot. You should’ve made plans right there. You’re such a pussy.” He berates himself as he drives.

Truly, he didn’t understand how someone like you would want to ruin her life with someone like him. I mean, its not like he was actually going to do something extravagant in life.

Or well, that is according to his teachers.

But that didn’t matter. All Eddie knew was that you gave him your number and, to him, it didn’t seem like a pity action. To him, it was genuine and insanely cute how nervous you were. It was then that he decided he was going to get you to stick around for as long as you’d have him.

…

Were you terrified he wasn’t going to call you? Yes.

Were you scared giving him your number was a mistake? Absolutely.

Did you lie awake all night waiting for him to call you? Maybe. Jury was still out on that one.

You looked over at your alarm clock that read 3:03 am. The witching hour. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed, feeling like you possibly read the situation wrong.

But you felt the electricity in his touch and the emotion in his eyes. Those are things you cant fake.

The ringing phone pulled you from your spiraling. You were quick to answer, praying it didn’t wake up your parents.

“Hello?” You answer, keeping your voice slightly quiet.

“Sweetheart, hi! Its um, its Eddie.” You could hear the nervousness in his voice. Kind of like he had been fighting with himself on if he should call you or not.

You cant help but grin, it may be late but he did call you, “well hello there! I thought I’d maybe written my number down wrong or something.” You giggle a little so he knows you’re joking with him.

“Now that would be funny. But, um, I know it’s late and we have class tomorrow but I didn’t know if after you wanted to maybe get smoothies? I know you like reading so maybe go to the book store? If-if you want?” Nerves clear in his voice.

The gesture was sweet, making little butterflies in your stomach. You, hanging out with Eddie Munson? A dream come true, honestly.

“I’d love that! Maybe I can convince you to read a book with me, like a little book club or something like that.”

He laughs, the sound washing over you and settling deep in your bones. You could listen to that sound on repeat; bottle it up and keep it for a rainy day. “We’ll see.” So not technically a no. Again, you’d take it as a win.

…

Eddie spent that entire school day distracted, nerves eating him up inside.

What if you didn’t like him?

What if you thought he was too weird?

What if you ran away screaming?

What if-

“Earth to Eddie? Hello?!” Dustin snaps in his face, drawing him out of his self loathing.

“Don’t snap at me like that. S’rude.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, “you’ve been bouncing your leg for the last twenty minutes, staring at the lunch table, looking like you’re about to vomit…” His eyes grow big with realization, “Which means you asked out y/n, huh?” Now hes giddy, staring at Eddie with those big eyes.

Eddie waves a hand, trying to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal, even though to him it was, “if you must know, yeah. We’re hangin’ out after school.”

Mike perks up, grinning at his friend, “oooooh, look at you go! Where are you taking her?”

Eddie grumbles a little, but he deny it kind of makes him happy his friends care. Kind of being the key word. Mainly because, he didn’t want them to do something to fuck up his chances with you. He already knew the ‘risk’ you were taking by giving him your number. He didn’t want you to slip through his fingers before he even had a chance to hold you.

“Were getting smoothies and going to the book store.”

The table is quiet for a minute, everyone staring at him before they all burst out laughing. He knows they aren’t necessarily laughing at him, but it does make him feel a tiny bit annoyed.

“You cant be serious? You don’t read.” Dustin says between laughs.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “just because I don’t read the books this prison makes me read, doesn’t mean I don’t like it.” He shrugs, “I read magazines all the time.”

“That’s not the same.” Mike teases.

Eddie shrugs, “whatever. That’s what she likes so that’s what we’re doing. I’ll make sure to come back with a detailed report considering you all got your noses in my… dating life.”

The table laughs some more before Eddie swaps the topic. But his mind is still occupied on one thing.

You.

…

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” Eddie comes up next to you after the bell rings, letting everyone go home for the day.

You grin up at him, enjoying the way his eyes light up when you’re around. “Absolutely! I’m so excited. My favorite author just released a new book so this is perfect timing! It’s a continuation of a series I already read and I’m pumped for the new one.” His attention makes you ramble, meaning you’re nervous. You mentally slap yourself, not wanting to scare him away on the first… whatever this was. Date? Friendly gesture?

He opens the door for you, letting you climb in before coming around to his side. “Well that sounds very exciting and I cant wait to hear all about it.”

…

You sip your smoothie as you peruse the aisles, scanning the shelves for the book, “this one?” Eddie holds up the book you’ve been lookin for, triumph on his face.

You grin, skipping over to him and gently taking it from his hands, flipping through. “Oh my god that’s the one! You’re amazing!” You get up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek before you can think about it.

You pull away, realizing what you just did. You can feel your face get warm, Eddie’s growing red from a blush.

“I’m amazing? Nah, you are.” He gets closer, boxing you in against the bookshelf. No one was around, you knew that, but you can’t deny the excitement of someone seeing you two. Obviously nothing nefarious was happing, but the point stands.

“You-you are amazing too. So s-sweet.” Your eyes shift between his lips and his eyes. Gods, you wanted to kiss him. You’d wanted to kiss him for so long. And here he was, so close you could feel his body heat sinking into your bones. His smell engulfing you. It made you dizzy, but you didn’t want it to stop.

“Me? Sweet? According to everyone else I’m mean and scary.” You know he’s teasing, but the soft flash of self doubt flashes in his eyes, leaving just as fast as it came.

You shake your head, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. It didn’t work. “You’ve never been mean and scary. Always been so kind and sweet. Perfect.” Your voice comes out embarrassingly breathy, quieter than you wanted it to.

Eddie didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it only served to bring him closer to you, his lips inches from yours. You silently begged for him closer. For him to close the gap and just fucking kiss you already. “Perfect? No ones ever called me that before.”

You nod, “perfect. Just so, so perfect.” You decide to take the lead, closing the gap between you and him, brushing your lips over his to test the waters.

You feel his breath hitch before he melts into it. His hands wrapping around the back of your neck to hold you in place. The kiss is sweet, his lips soft and plump against yours.

Of course you’d been kissed before, but this kiss? This kiss felt like coming home. A feeling only talked about between the pages of your books.

He deepens it, tongue softly running over the seam of your mouth begging for entry. And the second your grant it, he’s exploring your mouth. You aren’t sure why, but you can feel the emotion in it. The way he’s holding you, like you’re sand that’s going to slip away when the tide comes in.

But you wouldn’t. Not unless he asked you to.

He breaks the kiss, panting slightly. His lips swollen and beautiful. “Wow” is all he can say as his eyes find yours.

You nod, “wow is right.” You don’t really know what else to say.

You can his mind working, trying to think of something to say. And then, “why me?” His soft voice almost too quiet to hear.

“Because you’re uniquely you.” You know it sounds cheesy, but it’s the truth. He deserved to know he was appreciated. “You make the bad days good. I’m always laughing when you’re around. And you’re just incredibly kind.” You shrug, “I wish more people got to know you like this.”

A soft smile pulls at the corner of his lips, “wanna know a secret?”

Your eyes get big and you nod quickly at him. If there was one thing you loved, it was secrets.

“I’ve had a crush on you since our fifth grade Valentine’s Day party in Ms. Kathys class.” You watch his cheeks go pink at the admission.

A small giggle bubbles in your chest, “I asked so many people what kind of candy you liked because I wanted you to notice me. I sort of had a crush on you too. And it never really went away.”

He kisses you again. This time its short, just a peck, but to you it’s just as sweet as the first one. “Maybe we can act on our crushes. Actually date.” He laughs awkwardly, “make our fifth grade selves proud?”

“Eddie Munson are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” You smile so big at him, the butterflies filling your veins when he smiles back.

“I am. I think we’d be a good match. Plus, I want in on this book club. The back of this book seems very interesting.” He wiggles his brows and your face grows hot at his implication.

“Then lets get two and head to my place. We can start the first ones.”

He smirks, kissing you once more before taking your hand, “I couldn’t be more excited.”

[in-hav3n]

i have this idea of you reacting to james' mullet haircut for the first time, like you don't like it at first sight but after a few days you start to get into it <3 he was so hot in that era btw

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 

As you parked in front of the studio around 2pm, you were still wondering what was this important thing James needed to show you. You knew they were preparing a few new songs but you were sure he showed you all the riffs ideas they got. The only clue you had was a note he wrote this morning and left on the table.

"Meet me in the studio this afternoon, have something to show you".

Your first reaction was to smile at the note. You were used to these random quick messages, addressed to you for many reasons, like "Can you please buy bacon ? I'm hungry for it" or "Giant barbecue with the guys on Saturday night?". But this one was particularly mysterious…

More and more intrigued, you came into the studio's little kitchen a few minutes later, greetings the band and the studio's management, hoping that at least one of them could help you to discover what it was.

"Do you know why James asked us to all come here today?", Kirk handed you a coffee mug. You shook your head at his question, thanking him for the drink.

"Absolutely no idea and honestly, I thought you could help me..."

"Sorry honey", Lars added as he was playing with his drumsticks, pretending he was playing on invisible drums. "Jaymz is the best when it's about keeping secrets or hiding informations".

"Oh yes, he is...", you answered with a smirk, taking a sip of the hot drink, wondering when your boyfriend would show up to put an end to this mystery.

And just at the thought of him, his truck was heard outside, roaring into the parking area until he stopped the engine.

"There he is!", Jason said as he peeped through he window. "and...oh oh...", you saw the bassist opening his eyes like if he had noticed something. "NO he didn't!".

You frowned even more at his words, wondering what was happening. But soon enough you got your answer...James finally came into the room, joining you all and you discovered the big change he had done with his hair.

Everyone reacted to it of course, some laughed, others couldn't believe their eyes. And you, well. You just stared, eyes and mouth opened, realizing slowly that your boyfriend had cut those beautiful long hair of his you loved to do a mullet instead.

When he had finished greeting everyone, he came over you, wearing a proud grin on his face.

"So...", he started, hands on his hips, "do you like it baby?". He posed then to show his haircut in different angles.

"I...hum...", you mumbled, searching for the right words. You didn't want to disappoint him but honestly, you didn't like it...

"You?", he added, encouraging you to speak and it was worst. You couldn't lie to him. So you sighed and pouted, feeling sorry already for the words you were about to say...

"I'm sorry James, I don't like it...". You saw his smile fading away and you felt bad for it so you quickly added, "but if you like it then it's great!", hoping this would comfort him.

"I do like it"!, he defended himself, crossing his arms. "And I thought you'd have too ! But seems like no one does!", he complained, even pouted slightly and you felt bad.

"I know James but...you have to understand it's really...unusual and very 80s", you told him, still feeling bad.

"Well I like it and I'll keep it!", he declared and you didn't talk about his haircut anymore...

...until a few few days later.

Lying down on a deck chair, enjoying the beautiful spring sun, you were focusing on some papers you need to read for your job. James was out too, a few meters away, cutting some wood pieces with his axe for the next winter.

Lost in your thoughts for a second, proceeding to understand something you just read, you looked up from your paper and your gaze landed on him. He was wearing a black short, his working boots and had taking off his flannel shirt he had tied up around his waist. Some what drops were rolling from his forehead to his cheeks, some of his long hair were stuck on his back due to the sweat.

And this is how you realized that this haircut was absolutely sexy on him. It awaken you something primal, something you've never felt or thought before. He truly looked like a strong wood man and this was exciting.

James stopped his task for a moment, grabbed the bottle of water he let near the tree trunk and drank a big gulp, some water even ran along his bare chest. And soon he noticed your glance in his peripheral vision, smirking as he put the bottle down, wiping his lips with his palm.

"Enjoying the view baby?", his question put you out of your trance. You blinked a few times before you realized he had caught you. You blushed and smirked at him too, biting your lips.

"Forget what I said a few days ago..."

"About?", he wondered, walking over you with his axe on his shoulder. You looked more at him with sparkling eyes, biting your lips.

"Your haircut is absolute sexy". James frowned at first but then cracked a laughter at her revelation.

"Sexy uhm?...what made you change your mind sweetheart? A few days ago, you told me it was horrible".

"I don't care anymore. I changed my mind. Come here you sexy man!", you giggled as you grabbed him by his shirt's sleeve, ready to embrace those primal needs you were feeling...

A/N : I love those asks about James hairstyles! The mullet is definitely one of his most iconic one. I personally like it but I know some don't lol. Thanks for asking this sweet anon, hope you'll like it :)

[haveihitanerve]

i apologize in advance.

Dick stared at the suit. The suit stared back. But no eyes filled the white holes. No straight lipped smile greeted him. The suit was empty. Its ears seemed wilted, though Dick knew that was just his imagination. He swallowed. “Y'know, it wont magically wrap itself around you.” Drawled a voice. “You have to actually put it on.” Dick turned to face his younger brother, Jason. But even with the cocky words and aloof demeanor, Dick could see it hurt Jason, hurt him deeply, perhaps not as deeply as it hit Dick, but he felt the empty suit just the same. Dick gave a shallow nod, not bothering the remarks with words. Jason swallowed. “Its what he would have wanted.” He offered quietly. Dick turned away. He didn't bother to contradict him. To tell him that despite what the others might believe, Bruce, his father, had never intended for any of them to don his suit. Although he had planned on them burying him. Not the other way around as had happened too many times. The soft padding of feet was the only sound of Jason’s departure. It was uncommon, nowadays, for the second Wayne child to leave without words of goodbye. But today… Dick understood today. He swallowed, and with shaking hands, opened the glass case.

The Batcave was silent. Not unusual, but it was unusual with all of the kids in it. The Batcave was never silent if the kids were present. It was something Bruce had always claimed he hated, but he had always smiled so fondly, so none had taken him seriously. But today it was. Steph was leaned against the desk, Tim in the Batchair next to her, his eyes on the Batcomputer, though he wasn't typing. For once, he was completely still. Cass, on the other hand, was pacing, her usually silent footfalls now making little scuffing sounds on the floor. Amplified by the lack of sound from the other kids, it echoed around them, almost as a steady heartbeat. The kids swallowed back their bile. Jason was propped on his motorbike, helmet held loosely in his hands. His guns were nowhere in sight. Damian sat at his feet, fidgeting. Duke, for once, was awake this late, and was twiddling his thumbs, gnawing on his bottom lip as he leaned against the far wall of the Batcave. Babs sat in her wheelchair next to where Cass was pacing, her laptop opened in front of her, but the screen was dark. Had fallen dark long ago. Selina stood, watchful, at the edge, watching all of them with keen eyes, but did not say a word. Could not find any. Alfred was in bed. He had not left it since… since the funeral. Finally, Cass’s pacing slowed, and she turned to the door, hearing things the other kids could not. All at once, the atmosphere changed, became even more charged, and they turned to the door. Steph, Jason, and Damian stood, and Duke pushed off the wall. They formed a small half circle facing the door, linking hands. As though they needed each other to get through this. Finally, the sound of walking alerted the others to what Cass had heard so much earlier. The steps were smaller, almost sluggish, but as they neared the door they picked up, almost as if forcing cheer and pep into their step. The sounds slowed and finally stopped just before the door. “Ready?” he called quietly. They locked eyes, and slowly nodded. Batman stepped into the Batcave, and promptly keeled over, vomiting. 

Selina rushed to Dick’s side in an instant, but the other kids couldn't move, frozen in place. Even Selina hesitated as she neared, slowing to a shuffle. Before she reached him he had straightened, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He raised himself to his full height and made eye contact. Damian started shaking. Jason fainted. Tim looked green. Babs spun her wheels, turning away. Steph had her hands curled under her chin and silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Cass’s head was shaking side to side, ever so slightly. Duke swallowed. Selina took a step back. Staggered back. Catwoman staggered. A smile, so fake it almost looked like it hurt, blossomed across Batmans face, but it did the trick. Now Dick looked more like himself. The smile faltered, but then returned full force, still straining with its lack of conviction. “Oh Dickie.” Selina whispered. But even with all the compassion and heartache in her voice, she did not take another step towards him. Did not dare step near that suit. The door to the Batcave opened and everyone tensed, then relaxed slightly as Wonder Woman and Superman walked in, quietly. Clarks eyes roved over all of them, before landing on Dick. An expression they had never seen before crossed his face, emotions spasming, before the alien had Dick pinned against the wall by the throat, snarling in his face. “Take it off!” he growled. Dick stared at him, unflinching. “Before he was your friend,” the oldest Wayne child said lowly. “He was my father.” The alien dropped him to the floor, taking a staggered step back. Dick flinched. Everyone staggered back from him. From the suit. From him in the suit. “Are you prepared?” Selina asked him softly. Dick stood taller, not bothering with the forced smile this time. The expression nearly took her breath away. Dick and the other children could deny it all they liked, but they resembled their father whether they wanted to or not. And had it not been for the fact that Selina had seen him die, knew he was taller, knew his face better than she knew her own, she could not tell the difference, in that moment. Between the boy, the man, that stood before her now, and the man who she had fallen in love with. “Come.” she bade him softly, turning away so she did not have to look, did not have to look at that face that was him and yet not. Dick built steel into his spine, into his step. Did not stop to think about how his line was drawn in the same grim line he had so often seen his father make. Did not focus on his siblings who all shrank away from him like he had the plague, tears and pleas and threats in their eyes. Instead he followed Selina, his steps steady. She stepped aside quickly, eyes averted, as though looking at him physically hurt her, and Dick took a deep breath, stepping in front of the mirror. Then he promptly turned, and threw up.