let me shatter into you
— aka jason knows better than to let anyone get away with hurting you
———
your eyes trace the brown-yellow bruise forming on your wrist, the consequence of some asshole on the street too drunk to remember it isn’t polite to grab pretty girls. you would’ve let it go, really, it’s gotham, this kind of thing happens. unfortunately for the poor bastard, he had the misfortune of forgetting his sense in front of jason todd.
you try to hide the bruise before your boyfriend can see it, sliding the tarnished patch of skin under the sleeve of your jacket with haste— but he catches it anyways. of course he does. you can faintly see shocks of green lightning crackling in his ocean blue eyes, a precursor to the white hot rage stemming from his chest to the rest of his body.
you gently squeeze his arm, noting how tense the muscles in his bicep are. you know jason. you know he loves you differently— like you’re something fragile. he worships you, taking care of you like you’re a marble statue and he’s terrified of finding cracks. so something as small as a bruise, no matter how tiny or how minor, it makes him lose control.
he gently removes your hand from his arm, pressing a chaste kiss against your bruise. “why don’t you go back to that café, yeah? i’ll join you in a minute.” he says, looking down at you with a soft smile. if you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’d completely gotten over the situation, happy as a clam.
but you do know him, and you know that the way his shoulders are tensed and his free hand is fisted in the pocket of his jacket means that he’s enraged.
“jay—“
he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, giving you a gentle smile. “please, baby. i don’t want you to see this.”
you should stop it. you should try. but he’s looking at you like that and your morals suddenly become incredibly loose. you hesitate, remembering the waves of repulsion you felt moments ago when that idiot bastard yanked you towards him. “just… don’t hurt him bad.”
jason nods, turning you around and guiding you forward, watching until you turn towards the cafe before he focuses his attention on the man, who is still too piss drunk to comprehend how badly he had fucked up. you hear jason before the door fully closes behind you, an echo of “so you think that’s how you should treat a woman?”
he’s terrifying. that drunk idiot must be terrified.
and he’s yours. scary dog privileges and all that. it makes you feel warm, safe, loved, protected— you’re irrevocably in love with that. with him.
he comes back in a few minutes, maybe fifteen? the wait stretched on for hours in your mind. his knuckles are bloody, but none of it is his. he cleans up in the bathroom before sliding next to you on the cushioned side of your half-booth, wrapping an arm and your shoulder, breathing you in like a man starved.
“he’s fine.” he says quietly, so only you can hear it. “just made sure he learned to keep his hands to himself.”
you close your eyes, leaning into him, into his warmth. you don’t say anything— you don’t have to, the way you bury yourself against him is admission enough. his arms wrap around you and the bruise fades back into your skin. your heart beats with more love than you thought it capable of producing, your chest swelling like it’s about to burst.
you press a gentle kiss against his chest and everything makes sense again.
———
it’s always when i say i’m not gonna write that inspiration strikes
Kyle Gaz Garrick who hides the constant nightmares he has from you.
Ever since the helicopter incident, things have been different for him.
He isn't sure if he's really 'traumatized' as the feelings come and go.
Some days he feels like open spaces are closed in on him and suffocating him
some days he feels like running quickly up the stairs as he feels like he could fall through them any moment
some nights he wakes up with the same memory from where he was upside down and shooting terrorists
Sure, he boasts about it. Who wouldn't? Managing to live to tell the tale and knocking bad guys out all the same time while he was under stress and pressure?
And yet if doesn't stop the adrenaline he felt rushing through him, how he had to push himself aside for a moment and focus on the mission at hand and worry about the situation later
Now he sat on the couch, not wanting to wake you up with something so little, something he could handle
He's a grown man afterall
He had made sure to leave the room as quickly and as quietly as possible and yet you still managed to wake up, feeling the lack of his warmth and just him in general
Tiptoeing your way into the living room before frowning at the sight of your boyfriend with his head in his hands, hunched over in the dark.
You couldn't see a thing yet the pit in your stomach grew and grew with each moment
"Kyle?"
He looked up quickly when he heard your voice. You turned the lights onto see his face, making your frown tug a little lower when you saw how tired he looked
"Shit, sorry. didn't mean to wake you up, love"
You sighed and sat next to him, letting him lay on your chest.
His arms wrapped around your torso as he started to relax when your hand rubbed circles on his back, a comforting silence filled the air as you two enjoyed eachother's company
You didn't expect him to open up to you yet nor did you force him. You just wanted to be there for him in his darkest moments like he always was for you
He buried his face into your shoulder, soon falling asleep there before you started to feel yourself drift off as well
He was unsure of a lot of things, but he was sure of one thing:
You were his light
have this thing I wrote in a flash of pure, unadulterated love for Jason that I felt while doing my hair routine after my shower. never needed a fictional guy more in all my life and honestly this may be my personal favorite thing I’ve ever written.
Thinking about domesticity with Jason Todd. Building a home with him, a life. How ever so gradually mine and yours becomes ours.
You’re brushing your teeth one morning and decide to try out his toothpaste, the one he always buys from the bodega down the block owned by the little abuelita that loves him to death. It’s fresh and it’s minty and you swear it leaves your teeth whiter than the brand name stuff you buy, so you let your tube get used up and never buy toothpaste again. Jason, without question, simply starts buying it twice as often as usual.
You’re fresh from the shower together after a night off for both of you. You’re warm and you’re happy and you’re both so in love it almost hurts. You watch enraptured as he towel dries his hair, roughly scrunching the water from his inky curls. You don’t like how he lacks gentleness with himself, so you take the towel from him and gesture for him to lean down. Ever obedient to you, Jason complies and smiles softly as you dry his hair for him. You think suddenly that while his curls are always soft to the touch, they could do with being a bit more defined. They tend to get really frizzy and poofy by the end of the day. So you grab your curl cream and gel and just absentmindedly do your own routine on him. He raises his eyebrow in question only to quickly relent when he realizes it means you’re playing with his hair for longer. Your hunch is right; once his hair dries, his curls are so pretty you think you could get lost in the waves of them. Jason’s just happy cause now his hair smells like you.
The only clothes Jason has that are his now is his Red Hood gear. The rest of his closet has quickly become co-owned by you. His brain never fails to short circuit when you walk out in his hoodies, or his sweatpants, or his t-shirts, or his boxers. There’s not one piece of his civilian clothing that hasn’t been on both of your bodies at this point. Sometimes seeing you in his clothes has Jason blushing and his heart pounding with how much he loves you, how grateful he is to have this life with you. Other times seeing you in his clothes has him calculating the fastest way he can get them all off of you. You’re just disappointed that it can’t go both ways. But, alas, the struggles of having a massive boyfriend are that he’ll never be able to fit in your clothes. Whatever; it still does something for you when he finally wears the old Gotham Knights shirt that you’d stolen for months.
It’s also kind of funny sometimes. You two own a set of old, dark gray towels affectionately labeled “The Blood Towels”. The Blood Towels are only brought out after a really rough patrol or post-showering when you’re on your period. They came about after you’d nearly slipped while soaking wet from how quickly you’d tried to dry off to avoid bleeding on his good, fluffy towels. Jason just looked at you like you were a little ditzy, a flat “Do ya know how many times I’ve bled on these towels?” coming from his mouth. “I don’t care! I still don’t wanna ruin them!” you’d insisted. And thus, The Blood Towels were born.
Your bookshelf is never going to stop growing. You’ve actually had to go to IKEA more than once to get a larger one with how often you and Jay visit the old bookstore two blocks away from your apartment. Neither of you can resist a pretty cover, or a new annotated edition, or, heaven forbid, those rare, expensive first edition copies. At this point you’re not really sure which of the five copies of Pride and Prejudice first belonged to who, but really what does it matter when you’re both reading them anyways? And it’s always funny when you have to drag home a bigger bookshelf. You can never hold your laughter when Jason inevitably shouts “What the fuck! This wouldn’t be so goddamn hard if they actually gave you coherent instructions!” It’s also always nice to drag the old bookshelves to the apartment of the single mom downstairs whose kid loves reading. You both know she can barely afford the second hand books she gets him, so the shelves are happily given. You’re actually thinking of asking Jay if he’s willing to part with one of your first edition copies of Frankenstein for Christmas; the kid would freak.
All of this comes to a head with a cat. A big, fat, black cat that crawls up on your fire escape one night. You’d both been a little distracted–okay, a lot distracted by the feeling of being lost in each other's touch. You’d been making out for over an hour, just relishing in the intimacy of being together. It was definitely going to go somewhere until you heard the caterwauling of an animal outside your window. “The fuck is that?” Jason had asked as he pulled away from kissing bruises into your neck. “Sounds like a cat.” You’d begged, actually begged, Jason to let him stay. The next morning you came home with a grocery bag full of cat toys and bowls while Jason hauled a value-sized 40 pound bag of cat food on his shoulder. Atticus sits with you both while you watch TV now. Atticus still sometimes ruins the mood when he sees Jason sink his teeth into you and immediately swats his dad on the cheek. But Atticus is also undeniably your boy. And whatever, maybe you do start thinking about what Jason would look like with an actual baby in his arms when he’s cradling Atty as he shuffles around your home. But there’s time for that yet. You both know that. You know that beyond anything else, you’ll always have this life, this home together. It’s the best gift either of you have ever been given.
— just thought about sharing these here because why not? I'm not TikTok famous so maybe it could blow up here right.
— GRADUATION | c.ai // polyspeak.ai
— RIVALRY TO LOVE | c.ai // polyspeak.ai
— EX-FRIEND | c.ai // polyspeak.ai
Jason Todd drawn by Dan Mora… INJECT IT IN MY VEINS
a/n: this is entirely self-indulgent. I won’t lie about that LMAO, I don’t know if this happens to other skin tones, so I am terribly sorry it won’t be as inclusive as I want it to be (I try and make my writing as inclusive as possible for anyone!!). I am white and my skin is very sensitive when I scratch it, so this is very common for me, so I apologise for those who are looking for inclusive skin tone stuff :(
pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader in mind, though Jaybin does use “ma” because even if I’m agender, I have a soft spot for him saying that
genre: fluff, kind of slice of life
words: 1k -- should be okay but tell me if there's any mistakes I missed!!
summary: Jason spots red marks on your skin, gets super worried, and won’t stop asking if you’re okay.
art on the right is by @/ciricearts & dividers by @/saradika-graphics!!
You stood in your kitchen, scratching your upper arm for what would be now for the better part of 5 minutes. The noise of sharp yet shorter nails running against skin filled the room, or more so your ears, as you waited for that faint ding of your microwave. The milk filled mug turning in circles as you absentmindedly waited for the timer to hit zero, your fingers running over your skin without you realising. Hot chocolate was always nice company while you waited for Jason to come home. Your brain was starting to blank out more and more while the soft electronic hum of the microwave mixed in with the sound of nails against skin, your eyes slowly losing focus on the dark wooden floor. Maybe you could—
Ding!
Your hand stops its constant up and down motion on your arm, your nails scratching the skin for one last time before you moved off of the counter to retrieve your mug. Your mind blanked once more between the time you got the cocoa and sugar, and the time you were already sipping on your finished drink. And then Jason was back.
He’s tired. He’s tired and he wants to be in your arms more than anything. But at least he’s home soon. At least he’s only tired and not badly hurt. And as soon as he’s held safely in your arms, he’ll be home.
Now, Jason just wanted to go back to your apartment, change and shower, and have the best sleep next to you. But then, of course, some stuff had to go a bit sideways (he’s being a bit dramatic).
What he comes back to instead is your gorgeous self in the kitchen, mug in hand, with big, red, extremely red, marks on your arm. It was worrying. Your skin flaked off a bit, and was red. And his mind went off.
“Sweetheart?” His voice came out a bit cracked as he hurriedly took his helmet off and placed on your table. He was quick to be by your side, your arm gently held by his hands, as if you were a precious jewel he was trying everything in his power to not damage.
You, mind still somewhat blank, shook awake out of your trance. A smile came up on your face as you set the mug down.
“Hi Jayjay,” you spoke softly, your voice portraying perfectly your tiredness. “How was patrol? Are you hurt?” A small worry took over your face, but you knew he’d be acting worse if he was badly hurt.
“Sweets, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if I’m hurt,” his voice was pure worry, his eyes and body the same. “You’re hurt, what happened to your arm? Does it hurt a lot? We should put ice and cream on it. How’d you get it? Did someone do that? I swear to everything if someone did—” He’d started rambling, moving around the kitchen as his hurried words matched his hurried movements. He’s looking around cabinets and drawers, looking for that cream he’d mentioned, though it never resided in the kitchen to begin with. You just stared at him in confusion, unsure of what he was rambling about. Once his anger came out, showing that side of him that would about hurt anyone for you, you cut him off with a soft sweet laugh. He stopped dead in his tracks, and turned to look at you.
“I’m serious ma, did someone hurt you?” He asked again, a pout on his lips, though his demeanour had softened because of your laugh.
“Jay, hun, I have no idea what you’re on about,” a small sheepish smile formed on your face, as he frowned again. “Your arm, ma.”
You looked down at your arms, finding one significantly more red than the other, accompanied with some scratch marks. You were stunned, because when did that get here? You stared down at it for a moment, all the while Jason’s worry was worsening.
“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt ma?” He asked once more, before jumping back into action. “I need to find you that cream.” He hurriedly started looking through the drawers with a determination to not see you hurting anymore.
You kept staring at your arms as the puzzle pieces clicked together in your mind. And when the picture was done, you couldn’t help yourself but laugh.
You tried calling out to him through your laughs, though he wouldn’t listen.
“No, no! You’re hurt ma, can’t let you be hurt.”
“Jay— Jay, please look at me,” you said between giggles. “Jason.”
Hearing his full name made him stop and turn to you with a pout. You’d so rarely use his full name, it was always a nickname, a pet name, anything different. You’d only use it when he had to listen to you.
“Yeah?” He mumbled quietly, looking at you with that sad pout on his face, his voice so full of worry and care. His boyishness always came out in moments like this.
“Oh hun,” you chuckled, taking a step towards him to cradle his face in your hands. He leaned in on instinct. “I was just scratching my arm, see?” You smiled sweetly, demonstrating it by running your nails against your forearm. Few seconds after, and red-ish scratch marks appeared on your skin, following the path your nails took. Your hands found his cheeks again, as you pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m okay, baby.”
Jason gently gripped your forearms as he leaned in closer to you. He gently turned your arm around to examine the marks, who were already disappearing, the big splotch of red on your upper arm already almost entirely faded, to a much lighter colour. Only then did he let out a big breath, wrapped his big arms around your waist, and buried his head deep in the crook of your neck, now breathing you in. Your arms wrapped around his neck, a hand slowly racking through his hair.
You both stayed like that for a while, holding each other, breathing them in.
…
“Can’t believe you got scared because I had an itch.”
“Shut uppppppppppp”
A long playfully annoyed groan merged with laughter in the quietness of the apartment.
again, this is entirely self-indulgent lmao, this happens to me way too much, I'll barely scratch my skin and then there's red marks on my skin for a good MINUTE, it's annoyinggggggg
I hope you guys enjoyed it, even if it isn't as inclusiv as it could be (which I am again sorry for)
I've been gone for a short minute, real sorry, I've been super busy with school and I essentially shouldn't even have been writting this in the first place considering I'm in exam season but I couldn't help myselfffffff
also!! I'm finally going to be properly setting up my blog soon, so that's going to be fun!! stay tuned for that I guess, and more stories because I wrote this in a day which is considerably really short for me :P
© mxxnechos -- please do not repost, modify, translate, plagiarise, or feed my content into AI. All likes, reblogs, comments, and follows are deeply appreciated!!
There is some karasuno gifs!
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the only way to win at chess ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)👌
I present: Topaz being jealous because she thinks that numby likes ratio but numby is actually just an aventio fan
I have zero URs oh well