i'm wicked / aspiring writer / dc fandom dweeb / socially braindead / queer af / jaytim & gen & other stuffs / golden retriever energy & black cat vibes
Hey, look, I made a title that accurately and concisely reflects what this will be about! Which I rarely do with titles! (Go me uwu) But this is where any rough drafts, ideas, partial fics, drabbles and all the other stuff I don't wanna edit and polish up for ao3.
ao3
music that fuels the insanity
fics & drabbles
jaytim
Jason, PTSD and Tim hugs
WIP Wednesday sneaky peeky
WIP snippet where they're both totally normal about each other
another drabble where they're normal about each other no worries
vigilante personas are people too (or where the costumes are sentient) // Part 2 // Part 3
monster mash sequel snippet
chaotic Tim's alternative to therapy snippet
Dragon rider!Tim and dragon!Jason snippet
get in loser we're going racing // part 2
like a hurricane - college au cuz why not part 1 // part 2 // part 3
all i want for christmas, is warmth part 1 // part 2 (alternative titles: SUCK IT HALLMARK, 20 minute finance and jingle bells, jingle bells, my life is hell, then your fine ass walked in)
knight terrors but make it as unserious as possible (and call it how I met your mother while keeping a straight face)
gen
Tim runs into Jaybin
de-aged!Jason and it's Tim's problem
Tim finds Jason's Costco card
social worker!Jason and street kid!Tim
Jason wonder/awe/disgust at Tim's habits: the drabble
tiny timmy turned tiny t-assassin
not fics or w/e
jaytim
bantering back and forth part 1 // bantering back and forth part 2
gen
Tim and energy drinks
Jason calls Tim cheese
only in gotham part 2
health coping mechanisms? Dick, Tim and Jason never heard of her
Tim & Steph friend supremacy
elf on a shelf but Jason flavored // elf on a shelf but Tim flavored
Tim got jokes for Jason
Jason learns a little more about Tim's childhood but funny
Basically, this is just how likely are you to be arrested based upon the weirdest fic you've written, are writing, or plan to write! And explain why!
I'll start.
At least 25/10
Had to look up the texture of brain matter, how a human heart would taste, and how well a dagger can slice off fingers/a hand. This was on my school computer T-T
I would say like 20/10 purely because I didn't give the fic a happy ending... oh also cause one of the characters died while kissing the other who killed him uh.... I don't know what I was on when I wrote this fic (it's still up as well..)
okay so maybe like 15/10, writing a cannibal x masochist Dandy's world fic. (Vee x Sprout for anyone wondering) and it's in the very early stages at the moment of just sprout figuring out he's a masochist.
I already know a few facts about cannibalism but I can't wait for my whole search history to be about that /sarc
@thecrocthatstoleurshoes i don't think I have any more moots that write fics so open tags 😭
Arrested? Prolly 8/10 (or 3/10 if you consider actual rates T-T) for fanfic and 10/10 for own work (Ace being the main one)
In fanfic I tend to write angst that isn't illegal, tho there's implied stuff in my Dick Grayson fics (it's canon, you can't blame me, those writers put my boy through anything and everything)
Getting killed by my friends? 100/10, I get yelled at everyday for the shit I write lmfaoo
Oooo I WOULD probably like 1-2ish/10, I mostly write fluff and family feels, but for the smut and/or if i ever dust off and edit code arkham, I think like 7/10
oh dear; uh, 10/10 for various googles across fics but earlier today I was looking up parts of the body that you'd die instantly if shot there. and the logistics of moving a dead body with minimal damage so uh...jail time, I fear
no pressure tags: @stabthroughme @fool4toga @rbundollie @edmundpevensiesqueen @khajittink @maudlynnn @dovesnotdead
So I haven’t written the fic but I did in an rp. I would say:
100/10
I had JJ kill people and dispose of the bodies using acid and plastic. Ended up doing research on what types of acid would eat through flesh but not plastic. Some breaking bad type of level shit. Lmao
Maybe 1/10 on account that I did write sloppy porn of one of my favorite ships that involves them getting horny to an slow version of “don’t stop the music” inspired by Stephane Lambiel’s choreography lol probably an insult to fanfiction, I should be in metaphorical jail.
No one was going to do it and I have to eat. Sue me. *shrugs* other than this…I am pretty vanilla, I fear.
Tagging people who actually know what they are doing uwu
oh man, like a 5/10? head empty, only silliness. WAIT, nvm, I distinctly recall a couple times going down a rabbit hole and purposefully typing "I'm a writer looking up stuff in case someone's monitoring this" soooooooo...... I musta been lookin at somethin sus. since i was worried about gettin on some kinda list, 10/10, final answer alex. lookin at these answers, least I'll have good company :3
@takemetomyfragiledreams @ragnarokhound
Uhhhhh, idk who else to tag so if you're reading this, I tag you. Yeah lookin at you (cept no pressure ilu smooches kbye)
did....did this really take me like 3 months to do from this prompt ask thing ☠ my bad, my dear kriz, as you know things have been sdlkfjldkjnglfksdjfnsjfng lately. but, hey! lookit! i did it :3 granted, it's nothing but 3k of self indulgent silliness of the highest order but still. since you sent in 2 prompts I figured hey, why not do this on hard mode and put all 6 (those 3 and 51, 54, 57) into the same piece too? then, well, this (a take on Knight Terrors but with 164% more crack where Jason is a Dramatic Little Shit™and Tim is So Done™) happened -
I give you - how I met your mother
“This is it,” Jason laments. “This is the end of the road for me.”
Unimpressed doesn’t come close to the tight lipped , narrow-eyed expression Tim pins him with. Jason couldn’t give a good goddamn about Tim getting pissy over his dramatics. The gremlin knew what he was getting into when he said yes after Jason awkwardly thrust a greasy bag laden with cheesesteaks into his hands and asked him out. If anything, Jason feels entitled to his freak out. In no universe could he have predicted another suped-up magician zapping them into <i>another</i> twisted nightmare realm.
Somehow, this fails to compare to the army of crowbar-handed, pill-headed douche canoes from last time.
“You can’t be serious right now,” Tim deadpans. “This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Which is saying <i>a lot</i>.”
“Aren’t you supposed to comfort me in my times of need?” Jason drawls. “I’m not really feeling the warm and fuzzies over here, just impending doom and my inevitable end because I’m <i>not going in there</i>.”
Throwing his hands up, Tim rolls his eyes hard enough Jason worries for his health. Or he would be if he weren’t nervously tugging on the too short sleeves of the ill fitting suit jacket he’s wearing while imagining himself kicking Bruce in the nuts hard enough the man pukes since he was the catalyst that eventually led him here, to this moment. Jason had given up on smoothing out the wrinkles in his dress shirt. No matter how many times he ran his hands over the starched, stiff fabric it never got better. Specks of skin peek through where the buttons are barely hanging on over the swell of his chest. The dress pants are too short, showing off his mismatched socks and dirty tennis shoes. In his hands in a bouquet of wilted, savaged flowers. He’d tried to drop them, throw them and grind them under the heel of his well-worn sneakers but the stupid thing always reappeared in his hands.
To put it kindly, Jason looks like reheated garbage.
And the chucklefuck pulling the strings in this metaphysical horrorshow is expecting him to walk through the larger than life doors of Drake Manor and sit down for a meet-the-parents dinner with hyperrealistic copies of the late Jack and Janet Drake with a sad, droopy bunch of flowers while looking like baby’s-first-prom-night meets Five Nights At Freddy’s.
<i>Fuck</i> his life.
“She’s literally dead. This is a fictional pocket realm and nothing here is real,” Tim points out, patience waning.
Jason glares at Tim. The selfish bastard isn’t even trying to be understanding. “And yet her reputation precedes her!” he argues.
Tim sucks in a deep breath with his eyes closed as his head tips back, the fabric of his suit expanding along with his chest. As he lets it out slowly, he rights his head and steps towards Jason. His hands land on Jason’s shoulders. Jason can feel the heat of Tim’s hands even through the thick material of his gloves. The sensation is more grounding than Jason thought it would be. Leave it to Tim to so effortlessly be his rock in the tumultuous whirlwind of self deprecating thoughts swirling around in his head. Jesus, does Jason like Tim because if he even thinks the word <i>love</i>, Jason wants to punch himself in the face. Which is wholly unfair since he tried so hard to hate him at one point.
Leaning in, Tim says with all seriousness, finally paying Jason’s emotions the respect and severity they deserve, “I survived twelve years with her. You’ll <i>live</i>. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known and I have full confidence in you.”
There’s a twitch at the corner of Tim’s lips, undermining the sincerity he’s trying to project.
Truth be told, Tim’s words loosen the knot of unease writhing in Jason’s belly. They soothe his frayed nerves and clear away some of the noise clouding his mind. Not completely though.
“I have to go in there and face the unholy amalgamation between a wasp and a viper that is your mother,” Jason responds, reiterating the gravity of the situation, as he reaches up to wrap his hands around Tim’s forearms.
“She’s not that bad,” Tim tells him.
Jason doesn’t believe him for one fuckin’ <i>second</i>. He grew up skirting around the edges of the glitzy parties Brucie and the other moneybags threw. The nice thing about being tiny and once upon a time poor is that the rich are gold medalists when it comes to ignoring kids like him. It’s second nature to most of them. His very existence challenged their entire world view, making them uncomfortable enough that decorum played second fiddle. It was <i>great</i> for gathering gossip and intel so Jason is incredibly familiar with the stories surrounding one Janet Drake.
“Tim!” Jason snaps.
Face scrunching up in what Tim forever denies is a cute little pout, Tim defends, “I was trying to make you feel better.”
“You get a D for the attempt. The only reason I’m not failing you is that face of yours.”
“Good to know,” Tim replies sardonically. “Is it good enough to get you to finally walk in there so we can get out of here?”
His face screws up as he scrounges around for enough courage to do just that. It’s not like Jason hasn’t faced worse in his life. See that one time he was beaten black and blue before being blown sky high for proof. Yet, something about meeting Tim’s parents has a leaden weight settling in the pit of his stomach and a cold sweat breaking out across his brow. None of it is real. He <i>gets</i> that. No matter how many times he screams it in his head, the very real feelings refuse to scamper off.
He should kick the door in and bellow out, “Hey, <i>Mom</i>! Hey, <i>Dad</i>!” then shove the bouquet into Jack or Janet’s hands before marching over to the table and plopping down in a chair, feet on the table if the food isn’t already there or elbows if it is. Fix both of Tim’s parents with a shit eating grin to show he knows how much of a jackass he’s coming off as and is very much doing it on purpose.
Pissing people off is a specialty of his. This shouldn’t be any different. It begs the question: Why <i>the fuck</i> is it different then?
The answer slams into Jason with all the grace of a drunk, coked up bull attempting to tap dance in a glass factory. His hand at his side clenches tight enough the plastic on the flowers crinkles and the blooms bend dangerously. He grinds his teeth, bites his tongue. Anything to keep him from giving voice to the answer quietly whispered in his mind. Someone needs to punch him. Maybe Tim would if he asked real nice? He can’t let go of the goddamn bouquet or he’d do it himself.
Tim’s eyes skate over him searchingly so Jason stares back.
He’s unfairly, unexpectedly pretty with the sharp lines of his face, those long legs and the muscles shifting beneath the scarred planes of skin hidden under the well-fitted suits he wears. It often makes Jason want to crush his cheeks together and kiss him till they’re both breathless and hunting for the nearest horizontal surface. To Jason’s utter dismay, once he’d pulled his head out of his ass where it was firmly planted for far too long, Tim proved himself to be a good person, too. Kind, tenacious and sharper than the crack of a whip. Jason knew Tim was a capable fighter and master strategist but it wasn’t until recently he allowed himself to see the truth of Tim’s true worthiness of the Robin mantle.
And, sure, Tim has plenty of flaws. He’s a cranky asshole in the mornings before he can cram an ill-advised amount of caffeine down his gullet. When he sets his sights on something, Tim <i>goes</i> for it even to his own detriment. The guy would give an arm and a leg for those he cares about, his own well being be damned. Much to the dismay of anyone who foolishly found themselves caring for the annoying little lemming. On his worse days, Tim is as sanctimonious and judgemental as Bruce but thankfully without the same steadfast rigidity of thinking. On top of all that, Tim starfishes when he sleeps but hates cuddling so anyone sharing a mattress never fails to find themselves jolting awake in the middle of the night as they’re literally pushed onto the floor by the slack-jawed, drooling idiot.
If he was ever going to take the plunge for someone, may as well be Tim, he figures.
Once more, and with feeling, <i>fuck his life</i>.
A deep breath in, deep breath out, and Jason furrows his brows with renewed determination and tightens his grip on Tim. “Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you,” Jason says firmly, fighting the urge to hit himself or puke or run. Once he finally gets a therapist, the poor sucker is going to have a field day with his abandonment and attachment issues.
Tim looks stunned. He opens his mouth but all that comes out is a croaking amalgamation of sounds. His hands tighten painfully where they hold onto Jason. Every muscle in Tim’s body coils tight like it does before a fight, bracing himself. Not a single thought floats through that pretty little head as his mind officially crashes and burns in real time while Jason watches.
Jason might’ve broken him. Oops.
The silence between them is awkward as fuck. Here he is, dressed like a fumbling, bumbling pre-teen who ransacked daddy’s closet and came out the other end somehow more pathetic than before with Tim, the embodiment of everything Jason once wanted to be no matter how unrealistic it was but somehow he still gets to call his. Maybe if he asked real nice the asshat behind all this would end his misery now?
“I love you, too,” Tim blurts. Voice rising an octave and panic bleeding through, Tim asks, “Did I say that out loud?”
“Sure as fuck did, princess,” Jason mumbles, numb.
No. Way.
This has to be a part of the illusion. There’s no way Jason just heard Tim, Chronically Emotionally Constipated Jr., just tell Jason he loves him. It must be a ploy to butter him up. To bolster Jason’s confidence enough he walks willingly into the slaughter awaiting him in Drake Manor. Clever bastard, Jason will give the sorcerer that.
“Oh no,” Tim whispers. “I think this might be my biggest fear? No offense.”
Jason rears back, affronted and taking full offense, thanks. “Excuse you? What the hell!”
Tim’s hands fly away from Jason’s shoulders. He holds them up placatingly in a gesture of surrender as he back pedals. His teeth clamp down on his lips, biting hard enough it starts to bleed. Jason watches, ire rising, as Tim’s jaw works. He starts shaking and Jason is seriously about to lose his shit.
“I think I’ve loved you for years!” Tim bursts out. “Literally an embarrassingly long time. Even after Titan’s Tower, which is really sad but that’s a reflection on me more than you. Did you know you were my sexual awakening?”
Looking pale and helpless, Tim’s eyes widen as his mouth keeps running, “I didn’t think you felt the same so I kept it to myself but, lately, I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. And I’ve wondered if it wouldn’t be so bad to tell you how much I love you. We’ve both got commitment issues though and I didn’t want to ruin anything. Besides, I’m not good enough for you. I mean, you’re Jason Todd, the second Robin and now the Red Hood, and I’m. Me.”
There is so much there to unpack. Jason has neither the emotional range, patience or qualifications to tackle 85% of the wrong spilling past Tim’s lips. Where the hell is Dinah or Selina when he needs them? Hell, Alfred would be able to pull some snarky, dry but effectively impactful line to make the situation better. Jason has a colorful vocabulary and a scorched-Earth mentality. They’re so fucked.
“I used to watch you all the time,” Tim continues.
“Stalker,” Jason accuses on instinct even as his head empties of everything except Tim’s voice echoing I love you, bouncing around the inside of his skull like an old computer screen saver.
“Please make it stop,” Tim groans. He clamps his mouth shut but it doesn’t stay that way. “You were so amazing. You’re still amazing and I can’t stop watching you. I know that sounds really bad and it probably is but I didn’t have the best role models for healthy socialization. Which is probably why I’ve been so terrified of being honest with you and telling you how I really feel.”
Tim cuts off as his chest starts to heave like he’s only just finished a marathon. Down he goes, bending at the waist with his hands on his knees as he tries to regain his breath. He growls like a cat mid-bath before they go into full feral panic mode. Jason doesn’t feel like having his tender, stupid feeling clawed to shreds when Tim snaps after the full weight of what he’s said hits him full force.
He looks like he’s about to A) Lose his lunch, B) Lose his mind or C) All of the above.
When it’s clear Tim’s word vomit has finally been worked out, Jason makes the executive decision to plow past all this. Not forget it and pretend it never happened. He’s an asshole but not that kind of asshole. But rather than allowing the both of them to spiral, twisting words and actions to fit their own narratives and insecurities, he’s going to take this problem by the horns and keep them moving forward. After all, things don’t seem so scary and insurmountable with the warm, fuzzy feeling spreading out from his core and the knowledge that Tim loves him.
“I’m up to the challenge,” Jason says fiercely, apropos nothing.
Tim, with his unbearably big brain and penchant to put it to good use too often, has a habit of entrenching himself in his own thinking, Jason has noticed. The best way to combat it? Catch him off guard. A projectile works great. Jason would know. One time Tim went deep into his mind to decipher whether Bruce’s grunts from earlier in the night meant I’m planning another traumatic test for you like getting you a dog and killing a holograph of it or I’m happy with your performance but I have no way of expressing it in a healthy way. One strawberry stress ball chucked at his head and Tim was magically free from his own mental shackles courtesy of Jason’s special brand of care. Lucky for Tim, and his head because sometimes a wrench is closer than a stress ball, Jason has a penchant for saying incredibly out of pocket shit, too.
“I’m going to charm the fuck out of your parents to show you how much I love you and how stupid 75% of what you just said was. They’ll be so charmed they’ll be licking my boots and begging on their knees for me to marry you. Then we’ll have to decide if we’re going to hyphenate because Tim Todd sounds awful,” Jason declares confidently, squaring his shoulders and widening his stance like a man ready to go to war.
“I feel like,” Tim begins hesitantly, “I’ve completely lost the thread of this conversation.”
“You’re not used to that?”
“Oh, I am. It just never stops being so jarring.”
Nodding, satisfied, Jason grins. “Mission accomplished then.”
“Not till you get in that house,” Tim points out.
Jason hates how pragmatic Tim can be sometimes. Talk about a mood killer. Tim is nothing if not a master of shattering a Moment. Jason isn’t exactly innocent either but this is his moment Tim is treading on. Still, despite the emotional exhaustion looming over them both like the Sword of Damocles, there’s a hint of a smile on Tim’s face and a lightness to his posture. Jason’s going to count it as a win.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jason dismisses with a flapping hand. “See? You’ve already got the nagging part down. You sure you don’t want me to take a knee right now? I could braid one of these stems ‘cause I’m classy like that.”
At the second mention of marriage, a brilliant blush blooms across Tim’s face. Jason would worry for his health given how red he is but Tim clamps a hand over his shoulder to spin him around. Now facing the door rather than Tim’s unbearably, adorably pink cheeks and neck and ears and probably his chest too, now that Jason thinks about it, Jason has no choice but to put up or shut up.
“What? You don’t want to talk flower arrangements and color palettes with me?” Jason teases, swallowing back the last of his trepidation and in too deep to fucking stop talking about marriage because they said I love you to each other not even five minutes ago.
Let no one ever accuse him of not being dramatic. He learned from Shakespeare and a man whose idea of healing from grief is squeezing into a spandex onesie and punching muggers in the face while very seriously calling himself Batman. That’s what’s called a try hard if Jason has ever seen one. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take a big at the man. Ever. Especially in the comfort of his own mind where he doesn’t have to worry about his credentials being nullified in the Cave’s systems because he hurt the big, bad Bat’s desiccated feelings.
Laying a hand on the door knob, Jason grips the cool metal till he’s white knuckling it. It slowly turns. The door creaks ominously as he inches it open. The interior of the house is lit brightly. Light spills out onto the stoop. Inside, he can hear the rise and fall of voices. Janet Drake’s sharp cadence is immediately recognizable even if the words aren’t.
“You know what?” Tim asks lightly. “I think I’ll leave that to Alfred. You two can work it out. I’ll even tell him about the engagement.”
Without seeing Tim’s face, Jason has no way to know if he’s teasing right back as a way to let Jason know he hasn’t overstepped or ruined anything. That the gears have finally stopped whirring in Tim’s mind and he understands where Jason was coming from earlier in the hopes of soothing Tim’s own upset. Or he could be dead serious. Jason wouldn’t put it past him to make some off-hand comment while Alfred is present, purposefully hinting at an engagement in the hopes of leading the man to Jason so he can bury Jason in venue walk throughs, cake tastings and couples’ dancing class sign ups. All in the pursuit of revenge for running his mouth.
Tim starts pushing him over the threshold of Drake manor as Jason turns his head to try and catch his eye. The light of the house begins to engulf him like he’s being submerged in the sea of understated opulence hidden in the manor. Before TIm and the outside world recedes fully, Jason catches a glimpse of Tim’s baleful smirk.
oh no, my shame is once more being unveiled. 😭 Abracadang was an urban fantasy multi chapter fic I started and then.......got distracted, went off on other projects and just didn't come back to so rather than having a WIP posted with no completion date on the horizon, I took down what I had posted on AO3 till I could finish it. The plan is still to get back to it 👀 but that completion date still ain't anywhere close. Here's one of my favorite scenes though:
On a hunch, Tim kicks the corner of Dick’s new area rug right where the tag is still attached. It flops over, revealing the dark markings beneath creating a containment circle. No wonder Jason stopped when he did and refused to budge. It’s a cliche trick unless someone is completely unsuspecting. Much like Tim and by extension Jason.
“How did you even get it here?” Dick throws over his shoulder.
The cloying, saccharine scent of corruption seeps into the air as Jason bristles, magic leaking out to taunt Dick’s own. “I’m not an it,” Jason asserts.
Tim wrinkles his nose but ignores it otherwise. Dick is expecting an answer, Tim can tell, even if Dick hasn’t done more than glance at Tim since they came in. “Well, I was putting together the stuff for the new protection charms at the shop,” Tim starts hesitantly, debating on how honest he should be, “I mean, I heated up the olive oil in the microwave but I used the candy thermometer to make sure it was the right temperature-”
“The microwave?” Dick splutters incredulously.
“And put all the protection charm ingredients in the food processor so I know they were ground up well-” Tim plows on.
Dick makes a strange sort of strangled sound Tim doesn’t know how to parse. “Excuse me?” he forces out.
“You heard me,” Tim snaps, patience starting to fray. “I mixed it all really well in the ice cream machine-”
“Wait,” Dick interjects, “is that why my ice cream always tastes weird?”
“Do you get off on interrupting me? I clean everything out pretty well after I use it,” Tim defends. “Probably.”
“You-,” Dick starts, voice loud and stern. He breaks off to compose himself before continuing, “You know what, no.”
intrigued by so many of your titles but especially "Kriz prompt - how i met your mother" 👀👀
I often times forget what they're even about till I pop it open cuz they're so ridiculous 😂 but ooh ooh! This is the next one I'm going to be finishing and posting soon and I'm stupid excited about it! Since it's shorter, i don't want to spoil it with a snippet but basically-
Another prompt ask from this given to me by the ever lovely kriz. It's a hot take on knight terrors except Jason's worst nightmare is meeting Tim's parents, specifically Janet. So it's mainly Jason freaking out about meeting them and Tim trying to be reassuring but absolutely failing at it. Just a lot of silly fun since why not. Complete with hilarious, quippy dialogue and bordering on crack treated seriously.
When I saw your mention it felt like if a celebrity had rolled down their window in a streetlight and said hey.
And what about... 6. young love or whatever these two have going on
that is simultaneously hilarious and heart warming so thank youuuuu 😭🥹 I'll roll my window down any day to say hey 🖤 and actually, funny story because I am nothing if not big dumb golden retriever in human form, I went through and tagged people and remembered like oh hey some of these ppl might not actually write or anything. So saved, went back to take a peek if there were tagged ao3s so I could edit the tags so nobody felt pressured but somehow in the midst of it all I posted instead of saved???? so big whoops, regret nothing
@ladytauria also asked about this one too!
Y'all pickin the ones I ain't got nothin done for yet 😩 but am excited to get to this one since it's chalk full of the AWWWW ADORBS energy, but here's my incredibly descriptive and super helpful outline (and it's also from this prompt ask):
The prompts:
14. Are you done with that?
15. How long have you been standing there?
16. I'm flirting with you.
Jaybin and tiny Tim dancing around each other in the night, becoming besties then jaybin gets a little crush. One night jaybin is chilling on a roof by himself, mulling over his crush on Tim with a coffee he's not drinking since he's lost in thought but then Tim steps out of the shadows and says number 14 and Jason immediately responds with number 15 which makes tiny Tim laugh. Then Tim goes to join him as jaybin stumbles through an explanation and tries to slip in a few lines to test the waters if tiny Tim like likes him. Tiny Tim thinks jaybin might be having a stroke or something so then Jason has to fess up by saying number 16. Which stuns tiny Tim and then he fumbles through a confession and then they're both adorably awkward about it all but end up holding hands while they're red in the face and won't look at each other.
I blame Kriz alot too 🤣 Number 2 pls! I wanna know what Kriz is doing to you!
our dear sweet amazing @krizariel 🖤🖤🖤but oh nos, y u gotta ask about this one, mostly cuz I am embarrassed on how very, very little is done, if you can even count what I have as having anything done 😭 it comes from this writing prompt post and I have exactly nothing done for it. Literally, in the doc I've just got:
51. I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking.
54. I'm not good enough for you.
57. I'm up to the challenge.
Stupid Valentine’s Day one? Should I do canon? Or maybe another college AU? More maybe fantasy creatures office AU? Maybe Tim gets hit with a whiff of magic that makes him tell the truth. Whichever way I go with it, basically Jason says 51, asks why Tim hasn’t actually done anything about it. Because Tim can’t lie, he says 54. Jason pops off like no, nononono, yes you so are and says 57 in regards to showing Tim how amazing he is. Idk, I’m not a big fan of this one.
For stuff like writing prompts I always wait for the like AH HA moment when an idea hits and it's like damn, yeah, this slaps 😎 nothing has yet to slap me but it will, BY JOVE IT WILL SLAP ME. eventually.
I got tagged by @byrdsofthenyte and @raywriteshere 🥰 and love their lists!
By comparison, I have realized my wip titles are boring (lots of just saying the pairing lmao).
RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!
In my wips files I found the following titles 16 titles (all dc related):
JoeyDick warmth
Omegaverse Robinpile
Fluffy dragon steph
Comforting hugs
Riverbend
Sla Dick wip
KoryDickTim
Coffee Epiphany
Bru Tim wip
Dick Gordon
Housewife Follow Up
JayRoy Housewife
Zorro wip JayTim
TimDick Cuddles
Wip eldritch brudick
TimJay force trans
But if you have questions on any series/fics posted not listed above, feel free to ask.🥰 I usually have little notes or snips.
(I also didn’t include exchange event fics since im not willing to share snips 😅 but rest assured they are there too.)
If you expected a larger list, I tend to have a lot of very small wips that I just keep all in one document (usually when it's just a prompt I don't want to forget about or a few sentences) so that's not listed. 🥰
Apologies to the 16 people - of course no pressure 🥰🥰 love yall!
yippee !! thank you @rbundollie and @dovesnotdead for the tags :D
I'm going to sort by fandom and exclude WIPs with only a few paragraphs to keep this someone sane but my brain is going every which way and it shows.
MHA:
Counting Crows
Gens Una Sumus
He Wasn't Born Yesterday
Just Boys Being Boys
The Adults Are Talking
To See Another Day
A Farewell to Hope
Look at Me When I'm Talking to You
Coward
The Law of Correspondence
Consequences of an Unrequited Life
Justice, Served
A Record of How It All Went Wrong
DC:
TK - krypto jazz
Disavowal
Murmur
Thin Air
Improvisations
TK - Neighbours
We Are Not Poets
Young Master Drake
New Year
Hourglass
My Bleeding Roses
Sword and Shield
Teen Dad Tim Drake
Life and Limb
What Time Could Never Heal
Bunny
Tim Independent Vigilante
Before You Ask
Stop and Smell the Roses
Morning After
This Is a Gift
Heated Rivalry:
I'm Here For You, She's Dressed in Blue
Some of these are parts of a series, some have chapters out and other chapters are WIPs, but that's the list :)
no pressure tags <3
@is-a-b3llaaah @lilacwriter07 @theydontknowme @havenshereagain @vamillepudding @snakeredbirdbatkatana @wickedsmille and anyone who wants to join as well <3
oh jeez oh man, thank you for tagging me @callmeizukunotdeku (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ see below for nonsense because what are titles but a way to confuse yourself and others
okay, so, cracktastically titled WIP list!
1. Kriz prompt - how i met your mother
2. Kriz prompt 2
3. abracadang i messed up
4. get in loser part 2
5. dragon rider au part 2 the lots of fuckening
6. young love or whatever these two have going on
7. while you were away (i didn't sniff underwear and break your grumpy cat mug)
8. the art of possessing and being possessed
Upon further review they're not actually that bad and I am very pleased by this. Look at me. It's like character growth or something. I am slowly (oh so so sooooo slowly) working on them but there's just been *vague hand wave* lots going on, ope dontcha know. If you get my incredibly subtle drift.
I'll tag but I don't think I even know that many on here orz so if you see this and you wanna do it know that I'm frantically pointing my finger at you and waving pompoms to encourage you to join in and I'll even do a flip:
I got my @jaytimcookbook and DKFJRIDKNDKVKFJFJ IT'S AMAZING~ like, guys. GUYS. All the art is so pretty ;A; and the stoooooory. AND THE RECIPES. It's so well made too just UGHHHHHHH the cuteness aggression kickin in.
I'm so sorry but I'm totally gonna butcher all of them recipes with my all of 3 months of cooking experience (plz don't ask how I've fed myself 👀🫥) am def gonna get distracted reading and looking at the pretty, pretty art, too. Might burn some stuff. I think I know where my fire extinguisher is? No regrats.
So THANK YOU tytyty to all the contributors 🖤 lovelyamazingfanfuckintastic job and @krizariel for bringing it to my attention cause now I am just so happy 😭🖤 smooches you beautiful people you (platonically, unless you're into that 🌹)
I got my @jaytimcookbook and DKFJRIDKNDKVKFJFJ IT'S AMAZING~ like, guys. GUYS. All the art is so pretty ;A; and the stoooooory. AND THE RECIPES. It's so well made too just UGHHHHHHH the cuteness aggression kickin in.
I'm so sorry but I'm totally gonna butcher all of them recipes with my all of 3 months of cooking experience (plz don't ask how I've fed myself 👀🫥) am def gonna get distracted reading and looking at the pretty, pretty art, too. Might burn some stuff. I think I know where my fire extinguisher is? No regrats.
So THANK YOU tytyty to all the contributors 🖤 lovelyamazingfanfuckintastic job and @krizariel for bringing it to my attention cause now I am just so happy 😭🖤 smooches you beautiful people you (platonically, unless you're into that 🌹)
the part 2 of this ask from @ragnarokhound. which, idk how, but it devolved into nothing but silliness. like, the sheer amount of simping I packed into this is obscene. Jason is 97% gay panic. meanwhile, Tim sees a literal human dumpster fire and decides yes, this one shall be mine. (I swear I meant to get this done BEFORE the holidays but then I got ridiculously sick since my immune system gave up the gd ghost orz betrayal)
((no beta, we ball))
-
“Are you done with that?” a man asks when Jason has to take a deep breath before continuing, his voice dripping with amusement.
Jason doesn’t startle. It’s not like the guy totally interrupted his tirade or anything since he was entirely engrossed in cussing out every god, goddess or otherworldly power that could be the possible culprit for putting him through this living hell. He’s simply putting his impressive reflexes to good use when he jolts and whips around to get a gander at who’s disturbing him. Afterall, he was in the middle of some very important business. Namely venting lest he decide to say fuck it and rob the ATM, consequences be damned till after he can feel his toes again.
Through narrowed eyes, Jason looks the interloper up and down. His snappy reply dies on his tongue as his gaze widens. If there’s a flush of pink dusting his cheeks, no there isn’t. Even if there was, it would be from the cold. Not the absolute angel of a man standing before him. No way. Although, who could blame him?
The man simultaneously pulls off handsome and pretty at the same time with his soft waterfall of black hair and crystalline blue eyes. He’s sharp angles and smooth pale skin. His hands are tucked into the pocket of his dark double breasted jacket. Even with the lifted soles of his tasteful winter boots, Jason is still far taller than him. Which, it’s not like Jason has a thing about that. If someone were to have a thing about short, dark and handsome guys, this stranger would definitely fit the bill.
And here Jason is making himself look like the world’s biggest asshole.
Great.
“How long have you been standing there?” Jason snaps as he rallies, pulling defensive anger around himself like it’ll dull the sting of mortification.
“Long enough,” he replies vaguely.
“You get off on watching people or somethin’?”
“Normally people buy me dinner first before asking questions like that,” the guy quips.
Raising a fist, Jason tells him seriously, “I’ll give you a goddamn knuckle sandwich if you don’t scram.”
The mirth on the man’s face drops off as he fixes Jason with a deadpan stare. “Really? That was so lame,” he informs Jason.
“Hey,” Jason defends, “it may not be my best work but I’m hypothermic so let’s all be grateful I’m even conscious.”
The man steps into Jason’s space and pulls his hands from his pockets. Using his teeth, he tugs off one of his gloves and lays the back of his hand against Jason’s forehead. He has to stand on his tip toes to reach. With the guy so close, Jason can count each individual lash as he looks up at Jason. Suddenly, he’s not feeling quite as cold as before.
“I’m Tim, by the way,” he says absently, “and you’re freezing. What are you even doing out here that can’t wait?”
With a roll of his eyes, Jason responds, “Well, Tim, what does it look like?”
“Like I should be calling 911.”
Tim hasn’t taken his hand off Jason and he’s very, very aware of this. The more time he spends with Tim’s long, slender fingers pressed against him, the more Jason feels his defenses slipping. His already sluggishly functioning brain chugs into overdrive. Worry creeps across Tim’s expression the longer Jason stays silent. Since he really doesn’t want Tim to actually call emergency services, he’s fine, Jason forces himself to speak.
Out comes the truth when he says, “I was trying to get some cash from my account so I can get my heat turned on since the bureaucratic bullshit of his town sucks a big bag of dicks.”
Huffing what seems to be a laugh, Tim finally, regretfully, takes his hand back. He doesn’t put his glove back on but he does hip check Jason away from the ATM. From his other pocket, he pulls out a small, zipped satchel. Without a word, he opens it and starts digging through the tools therein. Jason can’t see what exactly he’s doing as he fiddles with the ATM but the blue screen disappears, replaced by a wall of scrolling text.
“Should I be the one calling 911?” Jason asks.
It’s a fair question if Tim is some sort of tech savvy robber. The last thing he needs is to get caught up in some small town crime syndicate. Although, he could strong arm Tim for the cash he needs without leaving his prints anywhere. Make it look like Tim forced him or something. So, actually -
“If you want to waste their time,” Tim replies flippantly. “I’m the town’s IT everything guy. I meant to come and fix this yesterday but I got busy with old man Taylor’s new POS system. Let no one ever tell you a software migration is anything less than hell on Earth.”
“So you’re the one the lady at City Hall was talking about,” Jason muses.
“Guilty.”
“And the reason I’m standing out here like a fuckin’ idiot.”
“Really? Seems like it comes naturally to you.” Tim shoots Jason a smirk over his shoulder before going back to the ATM as he fiddles with the control panel.
“Listen here, you asshole,” Jason growls. “You can take the man out of Gotham but not the Gotham out of the man.”
“Bring it,” Tim challenges. “You don’t think I picked up a few things growing up there, too, tough guy?”
Jason blue screens.
Shoving his fists into his pockets to conserve some warmth and ducking into the collar of his coat, Jason murmurs, “No way you’re from Gotham.”
“Born and bred,” Tim tells him. “I moved here maybe a year ago now. Just, needed a change.”
He knows better than to pry deeper into that. Gotham is a lot of things. As beautiful and awe inspiring as it is dirty and depraved. No matter where you go, Diamond District or the Bowery or anywhere in between, the duality of Gotham shows itself. It’s one of those places that people rarely leave though. Something about the place seeps into your bones and becomes an integral part of who you are whether you like it or not. Anyone who breaks away from Gotham’s loving clutches usually has some good reasons for it.
“Cool,” Jason says intelligently like the witty master of conversation that he is.
With a glint in his eye as he purposefully looks Jason up and down, Tim drawls, “I can’t say I’m unhappy with my decision. Now, at least.”
Jason sucks in a breath. If he isn’t mistaken, Jason thinks may be flirting with him. He could be wrong. Truth be told, it has been awhile since Jason engaged another person in any romantic or sexual context. He’s had his hands full and mind otherwise occupied. The last few years, he’s barely had a second to eat and sleep let alone drag someone else into the endless pit of fuckery his life became. So, sue him, he’s a little rusty with this kind of thing. No one can blame him for being unsure if the unfairly attractive, egregiously gorgeous guy that fell into his lap metaphorically, though a man can dream, is trying to signal his interest.
For all he knows, Tim could just be a nice guy. Odd, definitely, but certainly more of a people person than Jason. He’s used to the rough and tumble types. Those that’ll pop you in the mouth then ask your name. Men more likely to cuss you out than say hello with tacky tattoos and ridiculous nicknames like Snake and Right Eye. Jason can’t recall the last sane, inane conversation he had where it wasn’t started with a specific end goal in mind.
What do, Jason thinks with no small amount of hysteric panic.
“Oh yeah?” Jason grunts.
Tim hums vaguely and goes back to his work.
Jason scuffs his boots through the packed down snow and casts his gaze around. Looking, the town really isn’t that bad. There’s no one around. Everyone is hunkered down in their homes or with their loved ones, ready to greet Christmas morning. Snow cakes everything after a rough storm that rolled through a few days ago. It dusts the awnings of the businesses lining the roads and sticks to the edges of windows with elaborate holiday scenes and decorations across the inside sill. There are lights and garland strung across the street lights, wreaths on the street lights. Someone even stuck a reindeer magnet to the stop sign at the end of the block.
The town practically bleeds goodwill and cheer.
The people aren’t too bad, Jason has to reluctantly concede. Not that he’s made any overt moves to actually get to know anyone or ingratiate himself to the local community but, from the few interactions he’s had, they aren’t bad people. Just very, very different from the crowd he’s used to running with.
In Jason’s humble opinion, Tim could have taken a brief moment of introspection to appreciate their new home like Jason just did. That may be why he’s content with his move to this small, backwoods town all of a sudden. That would be a reasonable assumption, wouldn’t it? It would certainly make more sense than Tim openly flirting with him.
Or is he?
Fuck, Jason hates people.
“I guess the town ain’t too bad,” Jason mumbles, opting to save his pride from a fatal hit by getting ahead of himself. Better to err on the side of caution, he figures.
“I wasn’t really talking about the town,” Tim replies.
Well, then. Jason isn’t sure where to go from here. He has a prayer for the powers that be to have finally tossed him a bone after fucking with him so hard. Hopes and dreams floating around in his head. Mainly of Tim standing and slipping on the loose, slushy snow and falling into his arms so Jason can suavely catch him. Maybe cradle Tim to his chest to keep him balanced so they can gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, a flash of their future running through both their minds as they fall mindlessly, senselessly in love instantly. The likelihood that Tim is flirting with him has ticked up but Jason refuses to put himself out there like a total asshole.
“The whole mysterious thing might work for some people but it’s kinda pissing me off,” Jason tells him. The cold must have obliterated his brain to mouth filter because that was in no way what he wanted to say.
Chuckling, Tim stands up straight and dusts off his coat. There’s nothing on it. He looks immaculate, posh and refined in a way that makes Jason’s insides wiggle uncomfortably. There’s good people in the world and people that like to take something shiny and make it dirty. Jason is of the latter category. It’s a problem, he’s aware. He has never been more aware of it as Tim turns towards him casually, a small smile playing across his lips as the full weight of his attention settles over Jason like a guillotine. A very sexy guillotine he would do nasty, unforgivable things to keep.
“I like your honesty,” Tim assures him as Jason huddles deeper into his collar.
He’s cold, not embarrassed. Thank you very fucking much.
Tim steps away from the ATM and gestures towards it. It takes Jason an horrifically long time to kick his own ass into gear and approach the damn machine. He angles his body so Tim can’t see him tapping away at the screen, earning him a scoff from Tim but there’s no retreating footsteps. With how mangled his freezer burnt brain is, Jason is proud of himself for getting through the ATM process with minimal fumbling since he can’t feel his fingers anymore.
Jason yanks his cash out of the machine once it finally spits it out. Belatedly, Jason remembers there are things called manners and he, sometimes, has them, so he says, “Thank you. For fixing that.”
“Just doing my duty.”
“So,” Jason awkwardly says to fill the silence between them when he turns to find Tim still standing there.
He’s overjoyed Tim hasn’t immediately fled but it still begs the question as to why he hasn’t toddled off.
Tim waves a hand towards City Hall. “Shouldn’t you be getting your heat sorted out?”
Right. Yes. That is a thing which he somehow forgot. Fuck Tim and the way he makes Jason’s brain go all sorts of stupid.
Silently nodding, Jason trudges back towards the building. The distance suddenly seems horrific but he can see the finish line. The living nightmare he has been stuck in is almost over. There’s clammy hands and sweat stains in his future when he cranks the thermostat up as high as he possibly can when he gets home. Tim is but an attractive distraction to his end goal. He needs to focus on what’s really important, like avoiding frostbite. That might be a lost cause at this point though. He’ll settle for only needing two layers on rather than the fucking four or five he’s been sporting.
Tim follows him, walking side by side with Jason.
He side-eyes Tim. “You need to fix something there, too?”
The question, despite lacking any kind of humor, makes Tim laugh. It’s a sight to behold. Jason swears there’s a chorus of angels in the background or some stupid shit.
Once he’s calmed down, Tim fixes him with a sardonic grin. “I’m not so great at this whole people thing, so I’m sorry if I misread things but I thought we were flirting back there. I was going to ask if you wanted to grab dinner.”
Jason stops short. The door to City Hall is a scant few yards away yet he has to pause to look at Tim incredulously.
“You’re flirting with me?” Jason asks to clarify.
“I’m flirting with you,” Tim confirms. He puts a gentle hand on Jason's shoulder and pushes him towards the building. “I’ll stop if you don’t get inside and get your heat handled though. Or if you just want me to for whatever reason.”
Renewed determination overflows from Jason as he all but jogs to the doors and yanks them open. He can hear Tim laughing behind him but he doesn’t care because Tim was flirting with him. He wants to get dinner with Jason. Where they’ll actually get food, who the hell knows. Maybe Jason can convince Tim to come back to his place so he can put his cooking skills to good use to impress a pretty boy.
The sky’s the limit now that he’ll have heat and Tim.
“Don’t you dare ditch me!” Jason warns as he storms inside.
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Tim calls back, stepping inside the entry way but leaving Jason to dart around the office in search of the lady from earlier.
He scares the shit out of the woman once he finally finds her but she’s in good spirits. Only admonishes him a little bit as she gets his stuff squared away. Finally. While he would usually snap and snarl, Jason is too giddy to be a dick. He explains what happened, tells her all about meeting Tim. The mushy, gross feelings swirling in his chest get left out of the conversation but she acts like she knows, treats him like they’re too lifelong friends exchanging the tea.
It’s weird. But in a good way?
Whatever. Jason has heat now. And when he bustles back around to the entry way, the woman a few steps back and peering around the wall to unsubtly watch their interaction, Tim is leaning against the wall.
“Wanna come back to my place and I’ll cook?” Jason offers.
“Better you than me,” Tim agrees.
“You’re the type to burn water, aren’t you?” Jason teases.
“I’ll have you know being that terrible at cooking is a skill.”
“Next time I need to commit arson, I’ll ask you to come make something.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Jason thinks he hears the woman tittering from where she’s spying, though it’s more like openly staring. Tim doesn’t seem to mind their audience. He even throws an amused grin over his shoulder as he leads Jason out. Going back into the cold doesn’t even bother him because Tim has his phone out and he’s asking for Jason’s number and address. He readily hands both over. Tim lets him know his car is parked up the road on the other side of the credit union but he’ll be over in an hour, so long as that works.
He nods so hard he swears he gives himself whiplash.
I see that writing prompt game...jaytim you say 👀 I had a hard time choosing so I will humbly toss #14, 39, OR 53 your way 💖💖💖
i'm so sorry this took so long 🙏 this is like the sixth idea i had for these prompts. from cute to sexy to whatever the hell this is but i do know it's a modern au featuring jason being a total silly goose while having the Worst Day Ever. inspired by every hallmark movie ever except with more cussing and innuendo. well, the innuendo will come in part two but still! it is nothing but absurd silliness. i hope you like it though! :3 brosmooches 🖤
i couldn't help myself, i even titled it: all i want for christmas, is warmth (alternative titles: SUCK IT HALLMARK, 20 minute finance and jingle bells, jingle bells, my life is hell, then your fine ass walked in)
someone send help, apparently i'm not okay.
part 2
-
Not for the first time, Jason curses his decision to leave the big city and move out to the countryside.
Whoever writes for Hallmark needs to be taken out back and given the Ol’ Yeller treatment in his personal, perfectly reasonable opinion. He now has first hand experience in just how inaccurate those movies truly are. There is nothing magical, endearing or inherently romantic about small town life. It’s all mistrustful eyes, gossipy whispers and a utility hook up service so convoluted and cumbersome Jason has cussed out not one, not two but three automated phone attendants since he can never get an actual person on the phone.
For the last week, with the ink barely dried on the deed to his new house and after the movers dropped off the last of his shit, Jason has been putting off going to City Hall in order to talk to someone. It wasn’t a problem at first. The temperatures stayed stable. Chilly, yeah, but he’s always ran hot so it wasn’t anything a pair of fuzzy socks and his warmest throw blanket couldn’t fix while he handled his ever-growing To Do list in order to complete his transformation from city slicker to country bumpkin. Of course, of course, the night before Christmas Eve the weather decides to give Jason a massive fuck you in the form of subzero temperatures. All day, he’s been fighting with the phone system with no less than four layers on and swaddled in every blanket he owns.
Jason has just about had it.
He shucks off his nest of blankets and stomps towards his front door to shove his feet into his cold as ice boots. Snatching up his keys and wallet, Jason opens then slams his door shut before locking up. He trudges through the snow from last night and cringes when his foot sinks into a snow drift deeper than he thought. The snow falling into the top of his boot is just yet another reason he hates everything about this. Maybe he needs to be taken out back for having ever thought this was a good idea.
The snow is ignored in favor of aggressive clearing off his car. The thin layer of frost on the glass mocks him ruthlessly as he scraps it off. The townsfolk may look at him funny, which is fair considering the scar running along the side of his face and his, as others have said, hulking frame, but the joke’s on them. He clears his windows in no time flat. He’d like to see any of them do it as expediently. By the end of it, he can’t feel his fingers though.
He throws himself into his car to jam the key in the ignition to get the clunker going. It makes a distressing whining noise before the engine finally turns over. A wave of icy air blasts him right in the face before he turns it down. Swearing colorfully, Jason smacks the steering wheel as he slouches back into the seat. Once his car doesn’t sound like a dying animal barely clinging to life, Jason pulls out of his drive way. If he fishtails out onto the street, that’s his business and no one else’s. Mainly because his closest neighbors are three blocks down the road but. Still.
The wind easily cuts through his car as he navigates the snow covered streets so even the paltry heat trickling in through the vents barely warms the cabin. He figures it’ll be awhile before the next city over’s plows have a chance to come through. The town is too small to have any of its own. It makes for a treacherous trip to City Hall but he is bound and determined. Jason Todd did not survive the horrors of Gotham only to be taken out by country living.
When he gets there, the building looks abandoned. Jason thinks he may just lose his mind entirely before the day is through. Christmas Day will come and he’ll be a feral shell of the man he once was as he becomes one with the elements and dissolves into a blip in the town’s history. Maybe, with enough time, he’ll become an urban legend. Like Big Foot except better looking with poorer habitat location choices. Put like that, it doesn’t seem so bad.
But Jason will not be conquered.
He parks and marches up to the doors. They mercifully open and a wave of too hot air gusts towards him. It’s so warm his skin prickles and stings as it struggles to adjust. He powers through the pain and makes his way inside. The building itself is barely bigger than his house. It may even be a renovated house repurposed for commercial use. Reluctantly, he does have to admit the interior of the building has some charm. Some.
A woman bustles on by, arms laden with folders and paperwork, with her hair half hanging out of the bun atop her head and her glasses askew. She glances at Jason as she passes by. Jason can’t even get a word in as she disappears into the next room. Furrowing his brows, he clenches his keys and whips his head around to try and find a receptionist, a front desk, a directory - Anything.
To his immense surprise, the woman doubles back as she leans around the wall to look at him. “Can I help you?” she asks him, voice pleasantly bland.
“Yeah, hi,” Jason answers cagily as he tries to stuff down his frustration. Clearing his throat, Jason rolls his shoulders to rid himself of some of the tension lurking there. “My name’s Jason Todd. I just moved here? My gas hook up was supposed to be sorted before I got here but-”
“Oh, right!” she chirps, cutting him off. The woman emerges fully so she can approach. “I swear I’ve been meaning to call you about that. But with Christmas coming and Beth wasn’t around to plan the Hometown Holiday Fest so I had to handle all that and Mayor Crest wanted to look into-”
“Call me about what?” he asks as kindly as he can. For some funny, inexplicable reason, Jason feels like she’s the type to keep rambling on if he doesn’t interject.
Sure enough, she blinks then carries on like it happens all the time. “Right, sorry! Anywho, there’s a hook up fee. Trying to pay for a renovation for the new elementary school park, you know? It’s not much and everyone had to. You had the bad timing to come right when we were setting it up and we were struggling to get the portal to work which he said-”
“How do I pay the hook up fee?” he questions with a tight smile. “How long will it take after I pay?”
“No worries, dear,” she assures him. The term of endearment jars him since she can’t be much older than him. She’s got that old soul energy so he lets it slide. Plus, he really wants his heating to work. At this point, he’ll gladly sit down and let her ramble on about her thriving, fussy houseplants, the best ways to upcycle trash to make kitchy cute decorations and her favorite casserole recipes if it means he gets some heat. “It’s easy! One click of a button and $139.64 will get you sorted out.”
So.
All she needs to do is log into her shitty laptop, navigate whatever fucky platform they use and press a goddamn button.
Meanwhile, he’s been three seconds from committing a homicide while his nuts freeze off.
Jason doesn’t feel like moving again. Going through it once is enough to last him a lifetime. He wouldn’t wish the hell that is moving and setting up shop somewhere totally new on his worst enemy. He’s a bastard, plenty of people would agree, but he isn’t totally heartless. Nor is he that masochistic.
She has the audacity to smile at him as she waits patiently even with her arms laden down with whatever bureaucracy is on the day’s menu, but Jason is far too Fucking Done With It to snap off like he wants. He’s too desperate for an ounce of peace, quiet and warmth. If she asked for a blood sacrifice and his firstborn, Jason would gladly agree. $139.64 is a small price to pay, he tells himself. Going on the run for murder would be a lot more expensive, he reminds himself.
Without a word, jaw locked tight as his teeth grind, Jason plucks his wallet out of his pocket and brandishes his bank card like a weapon. She blinks at it. The card wiggles in the air as he silently begs for her to just take the damn thing and complete the transaction. If there is any mercy in the world, she’ll set her comically huge stack of paper down, take the card and toddle off to run his card and click her button.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” she says, sounding genuinely apologetic, “our card reader is down right now. That nice young man, you know the one. He moved here recently too! Such a wiz with the tech and whatnot. I don’t know what we would do without him. It’s like magic, I swear! You sho-”
“What?” Jason barks.
The woman’s expression curdles as she sniffs and turns up her nose. “Well! The nerve, young man. Did your father not teach you any manners?”
“He was too busy slinging drugs and banging hookers to come back with the milk,” he deadpans.
The remark catches her off guard. She goes rigid all over and stares at him with her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. A war rages behind her eyes as she frantically tries to figure out if she should believe him or not.
“Oh. Well. Okay,” she says and clears her throat. “You poor dear, sweet boy! Um, okay. I really can’t just do it even though it ‘tis the season. I need my job, you know? And Mary over in compliance is such a stickler sometimes! When she comes back from her holiday with the in-laws, she’s going to be in a mood, too. But, uh, look. You got a Credit Bank account, right? The branch is just a block down the street if you use the ATM.”
“Great,” he grits out. “Why don’t I just do that.”
The woman nods determinedly. “Good! You’re lucky I was even here today and, I tell you what, since you’re having a time of it and it is Christmas, I won’t even make you give me exact change. It’ll be our little secret.”
She winks.
She winks.
Fucking Done With It doesn’t even come close to covering how he feels now.
Keeping his lips sealed shut, Jason nods tightly before marching his unhappy ass back out the doors. He can see the Credit Bank building just down the road. Instead of tromping through the snow, he hops into his car, slams the door shut and screams as he attempts to bash his brains in on the steering wheel. A concussion will hopefully make him forget this horrible day, right? It might be a pipedream but that’s all Jason has left now: hopes and dreams. Since real life has decided to fuck him harder than a fratboy on Valentine’s Day night.
Of course, the concussion never comes and Jason’s toes are only getting more numb the longer he drags this out. Jason exits his car to start his journey towards the bank. If they have any kind of policy against walk ups to the ATM, he literally could not give less of a fuck. It’s not like anyone is at the actual bank. Not on Christmas Eve. They can send him a citation in the mail or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t put it past these passive-aggressively nice whackadoodles. Back in Gotham, he could punch someone in the face in front of a cop and get nothing more than a “Only the first one’s free” because in a city as fucked as Gotham, they have bigger fish to fry than a dude in need of therapy and anger management classes.
Jason goes on a tirade in his mind. It serves to keep him from thinking about the icicles he calls fingers and how stiff they’ve gotten. The anger warms him from the inside out, at least. To think, people have told him anger has no purpose. Take that assholes. It can come in handy.
His thoughts distract him all the way to the ATM. Regretfully, he has to take his hands out of his pocket from where he’s had them stuffed to conserve warmth. His card is clutched in his mitts like a lifelong. One by one, his fingers pry away from the ice cold plastic. Gently, as to not snap his card off in the machine, because fuck his luck lately, Jason pushes it into the machine. It slips inside with a cute jingle and the scream lights up.
Rather than a request for his PIN, it’s a blank blue screen. Violently blue. Blue, blue, blue and no other words, commands or instructions. He frantically hits the screen but it doesn’t change. Next, he tries pawing at the machine and pressing whatever might possibly be a button even if he’s 97% sure it isn’t a button. Nothing changes. The screen remains frustratingly blue but Jason starts to see red.
He points a finger at the machine and unleashes a torrent of verbal abuse before physically attacking the thing.
As quick as the rage came, it drains away, leaving him feeling hollowed out and so fucking cold. Not because he lost his shit. He’ll stand by that. Anyone would succumb to violence and property damage if they were in his situation. That’s something he refuses to feel bad about. But because what’s he supposed to do now?
I got tagged by @callmeizukunotdeku and I am a sucker for these things so thank youuuuuu 🖤 The other thread was just getting long so ta da - new one!
1. Fav color: black (lame ik, picking an outfit is like hmmm, should I pick light black or dark black? Does this off black go with the void black???)
2. Last song: I Run This Shit by TroubleMent but Excision and Sullivan King's new EP changed my brain chemistry
3. Currently reading: working through my 90 AO3 tabs orz
4. Currently watching: ................ Holiday Baking Championship (but shhhh, I'm still some edgy badass or we)
5. Craving: taco bell and their obscenely spicy Baja blast even tho their vegetarian options are kinda ass
6. Coffee or tea: coffee, black (double lame amirite but I don't like sweets so)
Tagging (no pressure! 🖤): @takemetomyfragiledreams @ragnarokhound @krizariel @eidoloony @grannyhitsuzen and I'll stop now before I obnoxiously go overboard
