aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.
You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.
As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.
The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.
You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.
Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.
Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle.
Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.
The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.
Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.
“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”
He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.
Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.
You hum, "Just strawberry's good."
Tim sits up, "Can I—”
"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.
Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.
Tim looks absolutely aghast.
“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”
“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”
Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.
Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”
You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”
“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.
Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.
He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.
The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both.
And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.
Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.
You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.
Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.
“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”
Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”
It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking.
You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.”
“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.
“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly.
“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.
A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”
You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.
Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”
Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”
Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”
Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.
Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is.
“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”
Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”
Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”
“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”
Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”
Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.
“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.
As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.
You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”
“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.
Voicemail.
Voicemail.
Voicemail.
Voicemail.
Declined.
Voicemail.
Declined.
Declined.
“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.
She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.
The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”
Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.
So naturally, they had to retaliate.
The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.
Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job.
Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.
So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.
Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.
She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.
She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”
“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”
“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.
You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”
She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”
You frown, “Is something wrong?”
“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”
You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”
She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”
“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”
You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts.
“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.
You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”
“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.
You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line.
He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.
“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”
Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”
She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.
She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”
Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”
You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”
A short response on his end.
“Promise to text me back!”
There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.
You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”
You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”
“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”
“That thing is fucking scary.”
Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”
Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”
Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”
Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”
Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”
Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”
“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.
Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm.
Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.
A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”
Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”
The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.
You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.
Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.
“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.
Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”
You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”
“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.
“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.
“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.
You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.
Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.
Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."
Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side.
“Not you.”
He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.
You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass.
She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face.
You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”
He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”
You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing.
Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.
As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead.
On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner.
This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.
"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.
Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."
Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”
“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.
Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”
From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”
He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat.
“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.
When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring.
You peer down at him with a furrowed brow.
“What’s Salem doing here?”
“I’m not doing this shit with you.”
“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”
“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.
Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”
Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.
Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”
Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.
Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions.
“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”
Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”
“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.
“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.
Steph continues, “Um…”
Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”
Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”
Dick gives him a faux-smile.
“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.
“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page.
“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.
Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.
Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”
Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”
Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.
“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.
The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”
Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.
Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”
The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”
“That’s what I just said.”
Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”
Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”
Dick throws his head back with a squint.
Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while.
No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.
Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”
Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.
They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.
Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing.
“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.
Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.
Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”
“Very funny,” Dick leers.
They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.
A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition.
“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.
Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”
Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”
Damian responds with your name.
“And?”
He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”
There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up.
Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”
The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.
Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he says simply.
Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”
Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”
He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.
Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?”
Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth.
Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand.
“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.
you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦
Being asexual and racist is embarassing as fuck. Being racist at all is obviously embarassing as fuck but the amount of racism and especially antiblackness i have been seeing from asexuals recently is obscene.
One of the only asexual activists is Yasmin Benoit, a Black woman. She has raised so much awareness for the community. She was the first asexual person to lead Pride in London, she started the #thisiswhatasexuallookslike movement and is THE leading voice for the community.
And you all will celebrate international asexuality day on April 6th but we wouldn't even have that if she hadn't cofounded it.
Edit: why are you all too scared to repost this. Cmon. Be vocal about being against racism
Synopsis: Avoidant!reader meets avoidant!Damian and turns out relationships don’t have to be that difficult.
A/N: avoidant in this case does not necessarily mean avoidant attachment. It simply means they are avoidant people. English is not my first language so please forgive any errors in wording, grammar or punctuation. Dividers by @pixopix
Damian and you had very different ways to handle the world. While you might command a situation, he commands a room. While you laugh it off, he glares until it runs away. While you excuse, he denies. From a distance, you look like you couldn’t be more different. But you have a lot in common. One of those things being that neither of you likes being vulnerable. Vulnerability is something to hide, something to avoid. You hate it. When people ask too personal questions, when someone forces you to show emotions you never planned on exposing. If someone calls you out, you deflect. He does the same, even if he does it differently. That’s what drew you to each other in the first place.
…
It was the last year of high school. Late enough that you were ready to drop everyone and never speak to them again. But still far too early to do so. You kept dreaming about what it would be like to leave, to start a whole new life. One without complicated relationships and situations. Your friends had been on your case recently, a fight in the friend group you weren’t participating in. They said you were distant and acted like you didn’t really want to be with them. You said you just didn’t have the energy to resolve fights you weren’t a part of. You knew very well they were probably right. So you did what you do best, you distanced more. In class you were laser focused on your work. After school ended you headed straight home. Now lunch, that was the difficult part. You needed to find a seat where people wouldn’t bother you, where no one would be asking stupid questions. You figured you’d just sit with the most intimidating person you can find (that didn’t seem to have it out for you).
So you sat down across from Damian.
His face didn’t reveal much, only a hint of surprise. Like his calculator told him four plus four equaled nine. He didn’t say anything though, only let out a quiet ”hmph”. You didn’t say anything either, just sat and ate in silence. Not an awkward silence, surprisingly. But a silence that said there wasn’t a need to say anything. He looked at you, at your hair, your shirt, even your food. He let out the slightest breath that almost sounded like praise. You were honestly a bit too nervous to make a sound at all. You’d heard about him, of course you had. The kid who allegedly transferred here because he beat up three classmates at his last school, at the same time. It was only a rumor, but one you didn’t have much trouble believing. He had a strong build, one that suggested he was pretty active. His hair and clothes screamed money. But his face, wow, it conveyed so much in a single glance you couldn’t begin to deconstruct it. You couldn’t look away. Obviously, he noticed.
”Do you always stare so obviously?” He remarked, his voice laced with condescension.
”You have a very captivating face.” You admitted, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to keep casual. ”I’m [name]”
”I’m aware”, he responded. Short, efficient, unusual.
You stopped talking after that, sitting in slightly more awkward silence for the next ten minutes. Then, right as you were considering leaving, he did what you would soon know him for. His peculiar way of asking questions, being not asking at all. ”We have the class”, he said, ”let’s go.”
AP lit, the class didn’t start for another twenty minutes (thanks to a generous shift in schedule this year). Yet you followed him, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Damian was like a magnet for someone like you, someone tired of people and their demands. You were sure he had his own, but clearly they were different. When you reached the classroom he sat down in his (presumably) usual seat. The center of the last row. You sat down next to him.
”So..” you clicked your tongue, unsure of what to say. Unsure of if you had to say anything at all. ”Do you like cows?”
”I have one in my backyard.”
”What?!”
…
You simply didn’t separate after that. Every lunch, every class you shared, even after school. If you were seen with anyone, there was at least a 90% chance it was with Damian. You learned a lot about him. How he loves animals, how he has far too many siblings for a peaceful home life, how incredible his mind can be. You learned that full name is Damian Al Ghul Wayne, and that he first met his father pretty late in life. Your favourite thing about him, however, was without a doubt how kind he was, and the lengths he went to to hide it. He’d buy you coffee but scoff and say it’s only so you don’t fall asleep on his notebook (which he let you borrow so you could copy his notes for the class you always found a little too draining). He’d give you his jacket and say ”yours is beyond inefficient anyway.” He’d stand up for someone being mocked then tell you ”well, someone had to do it” with an eyeroll. He never made things awkward by prying or complicating things over something small. He didn’t shy away from saying things because he thought they’d hurt you.
”Your notes are terrible.”
”That shirt is horrendous.”
”That guy is not worthy of you.”
And yeah the statements could be rude, but it was honestly you’d always craved. And his actions spoke a lot louder than curt statements.
He’d help you fix your notes.
He’d give you the extra sweater he carried in his bag that he swore he didn’t bring for you.
He’d show you that you have him, and that he’s doing everything he can to make sure it stays that way.
Damian was the kind of person you only meet once in your life. And you weren’t going to let your instincts ruin that. Every time you felt that voice in your head scream ”Run! He’s getting too close! You’re gonna get hurt!” you forced yourself to breathe, look at him, and stay. That helped. What helped more was knowing his mind was probably screaming the same thing. He’d told you once he didn’t like being vulnerable, it was against his nature and against everything he grew up believing. He had said it with so much intention, so much fear, that you almost froze. You remembered exactly what you told him.
”Well, it’s nice to know we’re going against our instincts together. You’re not alone, Damian. I’ll make sure that’s not the case. I promise.”
And that’s the most important promise you’ve ever made.
A/N: OMFGGG I HATE IITTT IT WAS BETTER IN MY HEAD I’M SORRY BUT I HOPE YOU LIKED IT. PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU DO. ALSO IF THE TEXT IS TOO SMALL PLS COMMENT AND TELL ME THANK YOU SO MUCH.
I want to bring attention to something I just saw and I’m genuinely horrified. I’m doing this post in hopes to reach as many people as possible so that everyone is aware of this situation and can take action against it.
TW: child trafficking
Vinted, eBay, etc. has a problem with people putting old baby stuff/ random stuff up for sale for 10-50k. The description is always describing the looks of a child, their age, etc... THEY SELL CHILDREN!! And those apps are doing NOTHING against it! I saw someone text one of them, and afterwards, these fucked up people reply and say that this is a CHILD BEING UP FOR SALE!!!! FOR PEDOPHILES!! I’m getting sick by just typing this.
Please, if you see anything like this on the app, report the account as many times as possible and report this issue to the police. Don’t stay silent. These sick fucking people need to be caught and should be dealt with.
you can download current and past hi-res versions of these over at my ko-fi (ok to print for personal use): https://ko-fi.com/mxmorgan/shop/freedownloads
you can also snag shirts here which go to various orgs: https://mxmorgan.threadless.com/collections/pride
these get reposted a whole lot from here to reddit to twitter to tiktok and on and on, and i don't personally care whether or not i'm credited. i made these for everyone to use, enjoy, and find meaning in them. i appreciate folks who do credit me, but if able, please at least link to the threadless shop in the previous post - folks can get an official shirt where 90% of earnings go to trans led orgs focused on mental health (which is an important matter in general, but very personal to me) and not from a scam bot site selling AI-churned maga garbage where you probably won't get one anyway. i also suggest downloading the files from my ko-fi - they are free/PWYW and you can use them to make your own shirt, patch, embroidery project, whatever. tips are always nice, cuz i do like a pizza now and then, but never required for download.
final thought - breaking the pride tradition and more than likely won't make a new piece. the top one from TDOV is all i'm making this year. i have my focus on other projects currently and i don't want to force a poster design. these came from a specific head space and my current head space is Very Tired lmao so i wanna work on other things. 👍
okay so like where is all the Zatanna fanfics?? like idc if it’s smut, fluff, angst WE NEED MORE ZATANNA FANFICS!!!!
LIKE DO YOU GUYS NOT REALIZE HOW BEAUTIFUL ZATANNA IS AND SHE IS LITERALLY A MAGICIAN IMAGINE THE FREAKY STUFF SHE COULD DO. OR HOW SWEET SHE IS?? LIKE HER FLUFF COULD LITERALLY BE SO TOOTH ROTTING (and I just know her angst could be soul crushing)
and for some reason there is like so little fics of her?? GUYS PLEASE WRITE MORE ZATANNA!!
Casual Photographer Tim Drake x Reader who keeps painting his photos but adding subtle references to Red Robin in her paintings to fuck with him
Tim: LOOK! In the original image this bench emerald green, but in her painting, she changed the color to HEX #8c0e16. THE EXACT SAME COLOR AS THE ORIGINAL RED ROBIN SUIT
Jason: Uh huh suuure. After last week’s “Floral declaration of malicious intent” I am no longer invested in whatever hate boner you have for this woman.
Tim: YOU CANNOT TELL ME THE INCLUSION OF ROSES, WOLFSBANE, AND BLACK DAHLIA ISNT A DECLARATION OF WAR
Jason: No I definitely can
Dick: Have you ever considered that you may be paranoid?
Tim: Absolutely not. I’m on to something. She’s obviously a threat to our security
Damian: I don’t see a problem here.
Jason: Oh course you dont. You find all of Tim’s mental breakdowns hilarious
Damian: I have no idea what you’re talking about. *To Tim* That branch formation looks suspicious. You should take a closer look.
Tim: OF COURSE! SHE REALLY THOUGHT SHE HAD ME THERE
