#jason 001

[scarlettabernathy]

The sounds of moans greet me as I walk into the apartment, and for a moment, it’s all I can do not to drop my car keys to the floor with an audible clatter. No doubt they would announce my entrance, something I’m fully entitled to, but I can’t even move. It’s like I’m paralyzed, frozen in place by the overwhelming gravity of my heartbreak. Hot tears brim at my eyes as I listen to the sounds, the sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing through the house, and I’m not going to lie, it hurts. Obviously, it’s been months — maybe six at the bare minimum — since Jason and I have slept together, telling ourselves after the last time, a rough fuck against the bathroom counter when we were both exhausted and emotionally drained from taking care of our twins, that we couldn’t make it work, but that doesn’t mean I wanted this. To come home after a long day of work, spent handling the whims of an angry boss — to hear the guy I’m stuck in an entanglement of sorts fucking someone else. It’s not what I wanted, and there’s not a part of me that doesn’t feel irrevocably shattered by this.

I want to scream, to storm into Jason’s bedroom, the one we used to share, and to tell him with every bit of bravery in my body that his whore needs to leave. The more rational part of me, the one that says think of our twins, of Ellie and Prescott, before I storm in there, loses out to my anger, to my hurt as I throw my purse onto the couch, arms crossed over my chest as I stomp towards Jason’s room. There’s not a part of me that doesn’t tremble with fear as I approach the doorway, the sounds of rough sex growing louder, the stupid girl’s moans growing louder, almost echoing into the hallway, but I push it open anyways. “Jason, what the—” I stop short, my cheeks flushing with color at the sight in front of me. Instead of finding my ex-boyfriend and the father of my children balls deep inside another girl in our house, I find him lounged on his bed, hand wrapped around his cock as a porn film plays on his flatscreen. “Oh my god, I’m so—” I step back, shaking my head, trying to get the sight of what I just interrupted out of my head because it was so far from being my business. But I can’t look away, my teeth digging into my lower lip as I look at him, at the sight of his cock, a sight so familiar to me that I can’t help but let out a ragged breath, once again, paralyzed and unable to move.

[catalystofchangc]

misc starters // @ofrcdhoods​

“  i wish i knew how to talk about it.  ”             

___ dick wasn’t one to force a conversation and much less one as delicate as this one - with someone as reserved as jason. but it was clearly eating him inside to handle it all by himself and he wanted to help. at least make him know that he was there. even if he wasn’t before. “i’m here to listen. if you want to talk about it or not, i’ll respect it. i just asked because you seem incredibly stressed.” and that was saying a lot. because everyone in that family was always stressed, it was almost normal. “i’m here for you.”

[walkinqchaos]

misc starters // @ofrcdhoods​

“  take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.  ”             

___ gian did as he was told and took a seat, one of his smiles on his lips as he didn’t take his eyes off the man. it was always interesting when he called - it meant a job that lasted days and was more than well paid. he didn’t trust anyone in the batfam, but hey, money was money. and there was a chance it was placed in gotham, a city he was more than willing to visit. “why did da big bad red hood called lil me? which job is dirty enough fer ya not ta take it?” giz left his bat aside, letting it rest against his legs as he leaned in.

[sebastian-thibodeau]

CLOSED START FOR: @jasonmaddox LOCATION: arts and drafts, downtown

Bash eyes drifted lazily over his laptop screen, the fluorescent of the screen making the corners of his vision blur as he stared for too long. He had been tucked into a booth on his lonesome since Happy Hour had struck, a steady streak of jack and cokes sustaining his weak attempt at another chapter in a book that felt utterly uninspired. The protagonist is too droll, his editor had complained, sending him back his failed attempt at stemming the wound of a late deadline. But he was too buzzed to think clearly where this book was concerned, and maybe, really, the entire thing was garbage. He hadn’t been able to string a meaningful sentence together on paper in much too long. 

With a heavy sigh, he dragged the file over to his recycling bin, shutting the laptop and sliding it into his satchel bag. Another drink and he’d be unable to safely bike his way back to his apartment, so he thought the better of another beverage and made his way to the bar to close out his tab. Only, the patron nearest to him caught his attention, Bash ever eager to play it cool as he quickly averted his gaze to the bartender. “What’s he having?” He inquired with a quiet voice, not wishing to garner the man’s attention yet. As the bartender replied, Bash nodded. “Great. Two of those, then.” He stood for a moment, lingering as the drinks were poured before grabbing both, finally making his approach. “I thought my grandfather was the only person left living who prefers a gimlet.” Bash stated as he offered the other drink over. “I wrote my second novel listening to your music. I’m,” Bash offered a hand over. “Bash, Bash Thibodeau.”

[benjamin-hastings]

CLOSED START FOR: @jasonmaddox​ LOCATION: humboldt yacht club, old town

As a proud straight man with a bisexual wife, Benji was wandering around the evening’s event, festive cocktail in hand. Annie was off doing something with Tabitha, which felt customary in this situation, and Benji was content on his own, having already run into a few friends while he’d been out and about. Looking down at his glass, Benji elected to get a refill, wandering back towards the open bar. “— pretty frickin’ sick up there.” Benji offered the compliment as his gaze fell on the familiar figure that’d been singing earlier in the night, but was glad to see he was now taking a moment to decompress and enjoy himself. “My wife’s a big fan of RICHTER, actually. I should, like, get you to sign my forehead or something. — Benji, by the way.”

[rebelong]

chegou ao campo de magibol e estava vazio, estranhou, será que ela tinha se confundido? não era aquele ou aquele horário? suspirou massageando as têmporas com as pontas dos dedos. nem mesmo podia olhar o celular para confirmar ou enviar uma mensagem para huo, tinha deixado o iwish em casa carregando por achar que estava atrasada. “merda” reclamou antes de se escorar nas arquibancadas. talvez fosse o irmão quem estivesse atrasado afinal, esperaria um pouco para ver se ele aparecia. um silhueta se destacou em meio as sombras algum tempo depois e ela preferia não ter reconhecido @jasonscharm​. “só falta estarem tentando me juntar com esse poeta de boca fechada”. resmungou com a paciência já chegando ao limite só com a possibilidade de ser o charming. 

[benjamin-hastings]

CLOSED START FOR: @jasonmaddox​ LOCATION: electric lettuce, bayview

“You know we had to, like, set a new company policy that there has to be two budtenders on at the same time, because people kept trying to kiss me while I was working.” Benji elaborated with a wide grin. “Well, one dude. And he’s like, the first cousin of my baby mama’s ex-boyfriend who she’s still in love with, but apparently he’s dating a hot milf now, so it’s awk as fuck.” Benji elaborated without feeling any real need to, but he always enjoyed when Jason came in, particularly because he’d become what Benji labeled as a ‘frequent flyer’. “Not that I’m saying you’re going to kiss me. Which would be fine, if you wanted to. I just think Annie would probably want to meet you. She doesn’t really seem like the violent type, but you never know. It’s always the quiet ones.” It was evident at that point that Benji was just pulling Jason’s leg, milling about behind the counter as he pulled a few samples for his friend. “Have you tried Oooga Booga Skywalker Cake?”

[haileyadavis-blog]

@shaw-jason

Holding Sophie in her arms, Hailey ran into the bakery with water dripping from both her and her six year old daughter. She’d been caught completely off guard by the rainstorm so her and Sophie were without an umbrella and completely soaked to the bone. “I’m so sorry mija.” She sighed, setting the young girl down and looking around for Jason and avoiding the pitiful stares she was getting from the other customers. “I’ll get you dry in no time, okay? I promise.” Taking Sophie by the hand she made her way towards the counter, an apologetic look on her face as she approached the owner. “So I didn’t read the weather report this morning and now we’re here, dripping on your floor and wondering if you have a towel or two you could lend us...”