existential-crisis-of-the-mind
Born to dilly dally, forced to lock in
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Small Talk (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 2 of 3)
(Pt 1)
Premise: Jason worries that you're just putting up with him out of a misguided sense of pity.
Jason seems about ready to dip into fight or flight mode. Though you’d be surprised if flight mode even exists in his dictionary, perhaps it only applies to the dangers of expressing emotions rather than actual physical threats.
“Okay…” you begin slowly, mulling over your words so as to not spook him off, “Well to start off. No, I don’t pity you”.
He only frowns at that, crossing his arms around his torso tighter in response. Alright, can’t say you were all too surprised by that. Trust doesn’t seem to come naturally to the guy.
You take a breath before looking him in the eye, “Jason, I like you. I like spending time with you. I like what we have… is that so hard to believe?”
Jason averts his gaze in response, seemingly unable to face you. “I-I don’t know” he grumbles, a frustrated exhale escaping his lips.
“I don’t know what you see in me. I guess I'd rather tear down whatever halo effect you’ve got going on right now, rather than waiting for you to realise what you're getting yourself into, and walking out at a later point”. At least the former offers him some false sense of control, he gets to strip down the facade and push you away on his terms.
“So you think I’m going to just up and leave the day I see the ‘real’ you?” you have to bite back a scoff at his reasoning, but insecurities can take any form, and the fear of abandonment always seems to be the front runner in his case.
You shake your head as you counter him, “Jason respectfully, there was no point at which I thought you were putting up a prince charming act, you’ve never really made much effort to hide your broodiness”.
In fact, you've always appreciated how he never put up a front, his frank personality being one of the first traits that drew you in.
He bristles at your comment, but you can see some of the tension leaving his body as he uncrosses his arms.
“Hey! I can turn up the charm when I want to”.
You raise an eyebrow in response, that’s a shoddy defense at best.
You decide against bringing up the time he set the fire alarm off attempting to cook spaghetti for the two of you, or that other time he picked up flowers for you only to get into a scuffle on the way home, leaving you with five broken stems (but 3 petals stubbornly clung on, so they still counted as flowers according to him). No, now’s not the time to bruise his ego.
You sigh, deciding to try a more direct approach instead.
“What’s this really about Jason? Have I said or done something to make you feel this way?”
The genuine question coupled with the gentle tone of your voice further disarms him. He huffs a breath as he looks away.
“No…I just- I don’t know why you put up with me at times”.
You could feel the weight of his words even though they were spoken under his breath. Put up with what exactly? His sudden disappearances? His injuries? The bouts of sour moods? He doesn’t even know. But he can only imagine the combination to be unpleasant.
You reach for his hand, which is currently bunched up into a fist by his side before continuing “Jason… I love what we have. I mean, I know you’ve got your bad days, but you’ve never taken them out on me...”
You take a deep breath feeling somewhat hesitant about your next words, but knowing they need to be said.
“Look, I don’t know much about your past, and frankly I don’t need to, I enjoy what we have right now… But it seems like you’ve been let down plenty of times before, and those fears are being projected onto us".
He stiffens, confronted with the truth he barely lets himself think about. Instead of facing it head on, he chooses to deflect.
“That doesn’t seem like enough of a reason for you to stick around”
He may be trying to sidetrack the conversation, but you’re done beating around the bush. You need him to know he’s enough, more than enough. That you’re happy with him and not just putting up with him for the sake of it.
“Does it bother you? That I like you just the way you are?” 
He hunches over at your words, choosing to face the muted television screen instead of you.
“Not bother… I guess it’s a bit hard to believe. I mean I know I’m quite the looker and have a wicked sense of humour” he says dryly, though you don’t miss his attempt at biting back a snicker, “But man do I come with a lot of baggage” he concludes with a self depreciating groan.
You shake your head as you scoot closer to him on the couch, “Will you give yourself some grace for once? It doesn't seem like you were dealt the best hand in life” you retort, feeling defensive on his behalf.
“You’re trying to make sense of it all, you’re trying to do what’s right. Shouldn't that count for something? Don’t discount your efforts” 
He shakes his head as he turns to face you, conflict colouring his features.
“But isn’t it exhausting to keep up with (Name)? I can’t exactly offer stability- Hell, I can’t even say trouble finds me, I actively go seek it... I mean, I don’t even know what my future’s gonna look like, let alone what our future will look like”. 
Why stay when you can go seek out something more secure, more certain?
That question remained unsaid. Maybe he was being a coward, but part of him didn’t want to probe for answers he was not ready to hear.
“Jason, I’m not going give up what we have now because of a pessimistic ‘what if’ future that may never come to be… You make me happy. You’re so good to me. I wish you could see that”.
Feelings of sadness and frustration settle within you at his incessant attempts to downplay himself. Downplay what he means to you.
You spend a moment wracking your brain, trying to conjure up the magic words that will get through to him. Considering which memories you can point to as evidence for your case, what traits of his you can highlight in your defence. But so many moments flit through your mind, warm memories playing over like a cinema reel, you don’t even know which to choose from. 
That itself is enough proof that’s there’s plenty of reason to stay right here, by his side.
Now it was just a matter of getting him to see the same.
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Initially thought of writing this in 2 parts but 1am big brain energy has given me enough ideas for a pt 3.
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Small Talk (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 1 of 3)
(Pt 2)
Premise: Jason worries that you're just putting up with him out of a misguided sense of pity.
Jason frowns as he looked down at his drink. A cup of steaming hot cocoa you had prepared for him, insisting it will warm him up.
His frown deepens as he glances at his fingers wrapped around the mug. Knuckles which were bloody and bruised an hour ago now carefully bandaged in ointment and gauze.
If it were up to him, he wouldn’t bother wrapping his wounds. They were surface level, didn't need stitches. The dried blood would serve a reminder of another target taken down. He wouldn’t bother taking any painkillers either and certainly not bother fending off the cold with a warm drink. None of that matters in the grand scheme of things.
His eyes then flit to you, sitting on the couch beside him, blanket wrapped around your curled up form as you distractedly flit through TV channels. 
Jason knows you’re not paying attention to the screen, it’s all just static and white noise. He can tell by light frown lining your brow, the way you bite your lip and the tautness in your shoulders that you’re worried. Worried about him, but unwilling to voice it. Probably cause you’d been bluntly dismissed the last couple times you raised your concerns.
Because Jason doesn't have the privilege to acknowledge his pain, doesn’t have the time to sit in his feelings nor reflect on his past. He's had to forego all that if he wants to move forward, to seek justice. At least his brand of justice anyway, drenched red in revenge as it may be.
But you, you stubbornly insist on being soft, on treating his wounds as if he’s delicate, making space for his feelings as if they matter, tolerating his outbursts without judgement or ire, staying in spite of how much the sight of his battered and bruised body coming home scares you.
It’s not like you know all that much about him to justify his antics. He’s not exactly disclosed his past beyond the fact he’s cut ties with his family, hasn’t really told you all that he gets up to as Red Hood. And his standoffish personality? A supposed byproduct of being resurrected only to realise you were abandoned by daddy dearest, though he’d rather not go down that rabbit hole.
So he can’t help but wonder why you choose to stick around. Why you put up with a caustic man like him, surely his sarcasm and occasional witty remarks don’t balance out his other self destructive tendencies.
“(Name)” He calls out, waiting until your eyes are on him before he continuing
“Do you feel sorry for me?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment, almost as if you need a moment to register that’s what he really asked.
“What?… What do you mean Jason?” your expression conveying genuine confusion at his out-of-the-blue question.
“You heard me” He mumbled gruffly, internally warring with the uncomfortable atmosphere he's created but also unable to sit with his doubts any longer.
“Do you pity me? Is that why you stick around and play house?”
He knew that last bit was uncalled for, but it was hard not to feel that way when his mind whispered those cruel words. That you felt sorry for him. Saw him as a broken man, damaged goods.
He knew that’s how the few people still in his life viewed him. A young boy subjected to trauma at the hands of Gotham’s most nefarious villain, turning to a life of revenge and vengeance... too far gone to see the light. An 'anti-hero' who needs to be stopped. Captured and contained.
Except how others perceived him didn’t quite bother him, not like he held any of them in high regards, especially not Bruce. Yeah okay, he was still bitter at how quickly everyone seemed to resume their day to day routine in his absence. Not like he had any evidence of them trying to avenge him and he sure as hell wasn’t going to give them the benefit of doubt.
But you, well you were different. You weren’t a part of his previous life, you only had the (dis)pleasure of meeting reborn Jason Todd. The jaded, sardonic Jason Todd, who was done with the world and all it had to offer. 
And yet you smiled at him. Cared about him. Worried for him. As if he’s deserving of any of those sentiments, as if even though you don’t fully understand him or the things he does, he still matters.
You seem to accept him in a way he’s yet to accept himself, and that thoroughly confuses him. To the point where the only conclusion his mind can offer is that you pity him. 
So here he is. He’d like to think this is him laying his cards on the table, but really he’s just an archer looking down the tall castle walls he’s built around himself, waiting to pierce an arrow through the one good thing he’s got going. Cause it’s just too good to be true. 
He’s not going to put a label on what he feels towards you, not just yet. Not when he doesn’t know where he stands with you.
He raises an eyebrow as he crosses his arms, curious but defensive in his stance as he braces himself for what you have to say.
He sucks in a quiet breath as your lips part. As much as he’d like to think he’s prepared for the worst, the possible reality where you do view him as damaged goods would definitely sting. 
His eyes flit back to yours regardless, he’s no coward after all.
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Gotta love the random burst of 1am inspiration disrupting my sleep schedule. Let me know what you think of this! Part 2 is likely going to be dual POVs for maximum angst  
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Meeting the Parents (Hal Jordan x Reader)
"Honey can you help me with my tie?" A voice rings out from the bathroom.
Hal was meeting your parents for the first time over dinner tonight. He'd grown very fond of you over the course of your relationship. You were the first woman who humoured him in spite of his odd reasons for canceling dates last minute or borderline bizarre excuses for up and leaving the middle of dinners past (it wasn't his fault intergalactic criminals had such poor timing!)
Whatever it is you saw in him, he was grateful for. It was getting awfully lonely on earth trying to balance a double life fighting crime in space. He eventually confided his hero identity to you, which made it a lot easier for the relationship to grow.
Hal finally had a good thing going. Needless to say, he wants to keep it that way, so he was really hoping to win over your parents tonight. Now Hal's no stranger to turning up the charm, his suave nature and witty comments can win over most. But the stakes were higher than usual tonight, so he didn't want to mess things up. Not that he's worried about that or anything. He fights space criminals and brokers intergalactic peace treaties for a living! This will be a piece of cake.
"Say sweetheart, what kind of flowers does your mother like again? I wasn't sure if they were roses or lilies so I bought both" He says as he pops his head out of the bathroom.
Wait, then why was there a third bouquet of Tulips on the kitchen counter?
Almost as if sensing your question before you voiced it, "Oh! The florist told me Tulips are a crowd favourite so I bought them as backup" he adds, his smile turning somewhat sheepish at the admission.
Yup. He's totally not nervous about this.
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Hal can be such a drama queen, though we love to see it.
Let me know if you liked this and want to read more. I've also created a Character AI bot if you want to play with this prompt Link :)
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Dive Bars and Hidden Scars (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 1)
Jason Todd was nervous. As much as he’d hate to admit it, the infamous Red Hood’s mind was a buzz with thoughts. Though this time he wasn’t plagued by the antics of one of Gotham’s many villains, nor was he breaking his head strategising his next move. No, the source of his nerves was far more mundane than the his daredevil double life could offer.
He was nervous because of a date. That he set up. 
In his defense, he didn’t think he’d get this far. His mind was running a mile a minute when he somewhat bluntly asked (Name) out. 
(Name), the friendly barista who always greeted him with a warm smile despite the standoffish aura he carefully constructed to keep people at arms length.
You grew on him, your warm personality, bright smiles and witty remarks. Initially Jason would lie to himself, repeating that he just need the hit of a double shot of espresso to start the day, hence the cafe was a natural stop. But lately he caught his thoughts wandering to you, wondering if seeing him made blood rush to your cheeks the way it did for him when his sights set on you.
The smiles and brief morning chats was a good set up. That arrangement suited him just fine, hell it was more that what he should’ve gotten, given his precarious second life as Red Hood. It isn’t safe for him to get too close to people, especially not civilians.
So imagine his surprise when he blurted out the suggestion for the both of you to visit a hole-in-the-wall dive bar he recently discovered. And imagine his shock when you actually agreed to it, enthusiastically even.
Jason’s foot frantically tapped the wooden floor, he took another sip of his drink. Yeah he arrived early, but it was only to scope the place out first. He wouldn’t want to bring you some place too seedy.
He felt rusty, not like he's had much time to go on dates after being resurrected. Turns out the quest for revenge seldom leaves space for other interests or hobbies.
But he likes you, and he doesn't want to mess this up.
His eyes flit to the door as it creaks open. There you are, looking radiant even. That lipgloss really suits you.
Wait why was that his first thought? God he's is doomed isn't he?
Here goes nothing He thinks to himself as he waves to you from the booth he secured.
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Hope you liked this! Haven't written in a minute so would be keen to know if you'd like to read more.
Also made a bot of this on Character AI if you want to play your own story with this prompt link :)
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Dunked! (Maki x Reader)
Pt 1
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Artist credits: @adamslander66
Shinichi Maki.
Kainan captain. Consecutive two time prefecture MVP. Reputedly the best player in the region.
Maki was well respected in the high-school basketball scene, and well liked by teammates. His skill and determination left little to chance, and his exceptional play style became something to witness.
All these titles made for heavy laurels to carry.
For someone who only knew him through basketball matches, he almost seemed infallible. The points he scored looked effortless and his defence resembled a well practiced dance.
However, growing up as neighbours and attending the same school taught you otherwise.
You got a glimpse into all the work he put in. You knew that his victories did not come by chance nor luck. But rather a stubborn dedication to outdo himself each time he stepped onto the court. Regardless of whether it was the court hosting the high school nationals, a practice match or even the one by the park close to your house. You remember all those summer mornings spent with you swinging your legs on the wooden bench by that court, watching him practice his three pointers.
So when others gaped at his accuracy, you flash-back to all those years of hard work which led to his effortless style today.
“Hey, sorry did I keep you waiting too long?”
You were brought out of your reverie when the boy himself was walking towards you. Duffel bag on his shoulder and the Kainan sports letterman on his back. He just got back from a weekend training camp. The two of you had agreed to check out the new bubble tea place round the corner.
Your smile towards him was squinted with your hand shading you from the sun’s glare. “It’s alright, I wasn’t waiting long, how was training camp?”
He glanced up, pursing his lips in thought “it was good practice, we won the matches but some were by too close a margin”
As he crossed his arms your eyes were drawn to his fingers, bandages scattered between them.
You huffed as you began to rummage through your bag, “You’re pushing yourself too hard again, it’s a training camp”. You looked towards him with a chastising gaze as you handed him a small tub of aloe vera balm. Being friends with a sportsman like him taught you it’s always handy to carry some around.
He smiled softly before taking the balm,  “Yeah I know, you’re always reminding me. I just want to make the most of every opportunity I get”
Of course he’d say that . You couldn’t help but giggle at the classic Maki answer. “I get that, but you can’t push yourself until breaking point, it’s gonna take time. Besides look how far you’ve already come”
Sure the others got to see him under the spotlight glares of gym stadiums. They saw him surrounded by his excited teammates as they cheered on their captain walking up to receive the MVP trophy after a match. They got to see him at his best. They witnessed him revel in glory after reaping the fruits of his labour.
And while you got to be a part of those moments, you also got to see all the hard work behind the scenes which led up to them. You saw his tired eyes after a rough evening practice. You recall the times when you stopped by his house to do homework together, and how you’d often find him in front of the TV, eyes glued to the screen, notepad in hand analyzing players’ strategies in national basketball games. You remember the several instances when he’d hurt his knee or bruise his elbows, and how he’d just grit his teeth and continue the game, blinded by adrenaline and a sheer desire to give it his all.
So you couldn’t help but be somewhat of a mother hen when it came to reminding him not to be too hard on himself. He was still a teenager, and while it was easy to miss that given his larger than life presence on court, you’d be throughly reminded of it when you’d get to walk home with him after school and notice his red palms as you heard him excitedly talk about his game.
Shinichi Maki was a great basketball player, but he was a very dedicated player first and foremost, and you’d always admire him for that. This was just one of the many traits of his you adored, and recently you’ve noticed that list keeps growing.
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As you both walked towards the cafe, Maki snuck a sideways glance at you. A small smile adorning his face as he listened to you talk about a certain flavour of bubble tea you were looking forward to try. He looked down at his palm, which felt a lot cooler after he applied the balm you generously provided. You were someone he could always count on, always looking out for him.
He remembered the summers he’d head out with you to the park nearby to practice, and how you’d appear before him with a toothy smile and cartoon bandaid in hand whenever he’d skid his knee. The many times when you’d walk home together after a gruelling after-school training session, and you’d casually hand him an electrolyte drink. And of course the balm that you once joked that you carry around with you everywhere, because he always presents an opportunity for its use. Maki hoped you knew how much he appreciated your kind gestures. How much he admired your kindness.
Cause lately he’s caught himself thinking about these little moments far more frequently.
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it’s that time of the year again
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