She/her, bi, rower, swimmer, professional sleeper, nerd. Basically just post about whatever my current obsession is. Please recommend books and shows!!!
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This is the best idea in the history of film.
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Someone on TikTok had the fucking audacity to say “Evanora wished she’d killed Agatha the moment she left her body but Agatha begged Death to spare Nicholas’ life before he ever left hers” and now I am SOBBING
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I love the idea that Dick and Roy were together at one point, with Jason and Roy now being together, simply for Tim's reaction.
The first words out of his mouth just being "what, you fucking down the family line or something?" Followed by a suspicious squint and asking "do I need to be worried if you guys break up?"
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We need a name for this type of fantasy movies and shows
Comedy, medival aesthetic, but with modern slangs, license songs or written specially for show, shit-just-happens type of world-building, badass heroine, beautiful romance, gay people exist and are important for a plot (I don't remember if there were any gay elements in Ella but they sang Elton John and Queen's songs so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Love it, need more (if you know more shows and movies like this, please tell me)
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#babs gordon#Babs#Barbara Gordon#batgirl#Oracle#girl in red#Billy Joel#the nbhd#the neighbourhood#mother mother#batman
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#Nightwing#dickgrayson#dick Grayson#Taylor swift#Olivia rodrigo#queen#queen band#lana del rey#Elton John
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“human beings in a mob”
“what’s a mob to a king?”
“what’s a king to a god?”
“what’s a god to a nonbeliever who don’t believe in
anything?”
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My birthday haul!!!
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Hi! Could I have a cappuccino with a vampire cake pop for our favorite boy, Jason? 😊 With a sprinkle of "There's no coming back from this" please!
You most certainly can! I lost my mind a lil bit - hope you enjoy
*****
You knew things were going to be difficult. From the moment you found Jason lying in a broken heap in the alley, a mess of blood and deep, gruesome gashes, helmet cracked open and discarded. From the moment you felt him flinch at the impact of your tears on his long-cold skin, running pink as they traced clean streaks across his bloodied face. From the moment he opened his eyes, dazed and lost and glowing in a way that had your breath catching in your throat.
Not dead, but not really alive either, unnaturally still and cold in your arms, not even breathing. But staring up at you with a look so confused and trusting that it set your protective impulse clawing at your heart. You could save him. You had to save him. The job was half-done already.
Caught somewhere between grief and joy, fear and relief, you scrubbed some of the blood from his face with your sleeve, taking a deep breath.
“We have to - ” your voice wavered and died in your throat as he leaned into your touch. “We need to move. Everyone’s out looking for you since your comms cut out, and I need… We need time to think.”
He nodded a little, opening his mouth to answer only to falter at the realization that the mouth he needed to form his words had shifted, his incisors nearly doubled in length. You saw the realization hit, a slight furrowing of his brow, a flinch away from you.
“O-okay,” he whispered roughly.
“Do you think you can walk?”
“I - ” You heard his boot scuff against the ground. “I think? I can try.”
You helped as best you could, keeping one hand bunched in his jacket, the other hovering uncertainly, ready to catch him, to ease a fall if not stop it entirely. With a series of low groans, you managed to work him upright, leaned heavily against the rough brick wall and seeming to inspect himself as you glanced nervously towards the rooftops. When you glanced back, he was holding up his shirt, prodding gently at the pools of dark blood dried on his skin, the wounds that had caused them now miraculously closed over.
“Jason?” you called softly, holding out your hand to him.
He stared at it, going frighteningly still again.
“I - You should probably…” He forced himself to meet your eyes. “You should probably get out of here. Away from me.”
You shook your head resolutely, taking a step closer.
“We’ll go together. Somewhere safe.”
“Nowhere is going to be safe for you if I’m there,” he said, voice strained. “Not now. I don’t know if - fuck- I have no idea what to do.”
His jaw clenched, and he ran a frustrated hand over his face, undoing some of the work you’d done in clearing the blood.
You were about to speak again, tell him you could talk about this later, somewhere else, somewhere safer, when your time ran out.
His head snapped up, sensing something you couldn’t.
“Can you run?” you asked quietly, urgently.
Jason shook his head.
“Shit.”
You moved quickly, placing yourself in front of him, pressing him between your body and the wall. Jason bowed his head slightly, obscuring his face in shadow. When the faint rustle of fabric reached your ears, you were already braced for what followed, not even flinching as Batman landed hard on the pavement in front of you.
“Forgot to check in,” you said, voice carefully neutral. “I’ve got this. You can carry on with patrol.”
You knew it wouldn’t work, but it was all you had left. There was no time for anything else.
“No, you don’t,” Batman said lowly as he cataloged the situation. “He needs medical attention.”
“No -”
“It’s… not his blood,” you lied. “I found him alone like this. There’s no open wounds, I checked. He’s a little beat up, doesn’t remember much. Probably a concussion. I’ll take care of him at home.”
“Jason,” he said sharply, taking a step into your space, clearly expecting you to move out of his way. You didn’t. “Look at me.”
You reached back, clenching Jason’s tightly in yours as he shifted, lifting his head with a defeated sigh.
“Step away from him. I need to bring him in.” Bruce made no appearance in Batman's voice tonight. Not even for this. Maybe especially not for this. He was cold. Professional.
“No,” you said firmly.
“He needs to be in containment. He’ll hurt people.”
“He already does. So do you. This doesn’t have to be any different.”
“There’s no coming back from this,” he warned.
“When I found him like this I thought he was dead,” you said, fighting to keep your voice steady. “There’s no coming back from that either.”
Jason hand moved in yours, returning your firm grip, thumb moving in gentle strokes. He was still lost, his head crowded with too much information, too many sensations, confused and not even sure what to say, to feel, to hope for.
But he heard the pain in your voice, and that, at least, was simple. He didn’t like that sound. He wanted to fix it. So he focused all his attention on that, this one simple thing within his control. The texture of your skin, more nuanced than he’d ever noticed before. The warmth that radiated from you.
“Give me until tomorrow,” he heard you say as you matched his gentle touches with your own. “If you want us out of Gotham, then we’ll go without a fight. But tonight, I’m taking him home.”
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whats the legal height to becoming a vigilante?
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oh thank god bro i thought jason was allergic to serving cunt
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