#*insert maniacal laughter here!!* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mostly-imagines · 3 months ago

Text

At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

HEY today we’re going to play a game where we practice reblogging fics: if you read this and like it—reblog!! ie, if you like and dont reblog i might block bc im getting sick of the lack of decorum

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter.

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face.

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies.

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him.

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing.

While you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself.

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this.

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained.

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close.

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls.

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC.

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair.

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace.

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog or get out seriously

2K notes · View notes

squinch-depraved · 2 months ago

Note

Giggly sex? Maybe with schlatt?

yayaya combining this with another ask from @manticore-fangs because i thought they'd go well together hope you two don't mind sharing :3 starts sweet and ends spicy teehee

schlatt kissed your temple as you smiled, the echo of your laughter fading away and leaving you two in what would be silence if it weren't for your favorite cartoon playing quietly on the tv. the two of you had had a fantastic day together, leaving you giddy and nearly drunk off his touch. he loved when he got to spend this much time with you, you were both busy people so it was rare you both had a full free day line up, but here you were.

he joked, quipping lines timed perfectly to elicit laughs from you, and kissed you all over until you were giggling uncontrollably. schlatt loved your laugh, it always cheered him up and he never felt like a joke or bit was successful until he heard your distinctive snort, followed by your maniacal cackle.

but tonight, you were soft for him. putty in his hands, only giggles, none of your usual shrieking or howling. he kept trying to make you break, poking and prodding you at an increasingly rough pace before transitioning into tickling you. a grin broke out on his face when you finally cracked. your frantic, hiccuping laugh as you begged him to stop drew out his own crazed cackle, and he ceased tickling you.

"finally, doll," he chuckled after you had both caught your breath. "just wanted to hear your real laugh."

"it's always my real laugh," you replied, smiling as you swatted at him playfully.

"no, i know, it's just.. i like that laugh. the one that makes you sound insane. i have to earn it, but you always sound so happy." he stares down at you, positioned in between your legs from how he was laying on your chest earlier in the evening.

your face flushed when he slid his hand up your bare thigh under your dress. the two of you had worn relatively comfortable clothes for your date, and he had specifically requested you wear a simple dress so he could access you with ease. once his hand reached your panties, he hooked one finger into their waistband and pulled them off you in one swift motion. pussy laid bare to him, his eyes left your face and watched as his fingers swiped over your wet slit.

"ohh, god, j," you laughed nervously when he began tracing figure eights into your clit. "you make me so dizzy..."

he looked down at you lovingly. "i know, toots. keep makin' those pretty noises for me, huh? love to hear you all stupid just from my touch."

you giggled, spreading your legs wider. "in me, j," you asked through moans. he obliged and inserted his middle finger, pumping it into you and curling it to make you cry out more.

"not enough," you protested after a bit. "need your cock." you grabbed at his lower half and giggled once more when you noticed him gawking at you. "what??"

he shook his head as if coming out of a daze and pushed you back down before standing up to strip all his clothes off. you mirrored him, slipping your dress up and over your head along with your bra. when you laid back down and eagerly looked up at him, legs spread as if displaying yourself for his pleasure, he pumped his shaft in his hand a few times before climbing on top of you and slotting your legs over his shoulders.

"oh- oh! is this how we're doing it tonight?" you laughed again, unsure of what your boyfriend wanted. "just gonna bend me 'til i break?" you said it with a loving smile, but he snickered and made piercing eye contact.

"that's the plan, doll," he said with unsettling confidence. "this is me startin' out nice." with that, he pushed himself into you, inch after delicious inch filling your hole. you whined after a moment of stillness, having adjusted to his size, and he began pounding you. the sound of skin slapping was accompanied by lewd moans and grunts, overshadowing the intro to yet another episode of the long-forgotten cartoon.

you yelped and giggled when he smacked your ass and bent you even further back. "feels really good, baby," you cooed, oblivious to the fact that you were only halfway into the position he was aiming for.

"i know," he assured you, letting you enjoy it a moment longer before fully shifting to be on top, moving your legs, pinning you down, and drilling his hips down into you.

you screeched, dug your freshly done nails that he had picked out into his back, and rambled incoherently about how good he was fucking you. the weight of him holding you down like this rendered you defenseless as he impaled you again and again on his thick cock, and he had a perfect view of your face tearing up. you were still laughing somehow, high off the infinite pleasure he was giving you, except now you weren't in control of it at all. giggling as you sobbed from your approaching orgasm, you tried your best to communicate you were going to cum but if he understood, schlatt didn't say anything.

he only reacted with a, "jesus," when you squirted all over him, making a mess on his expensive couch. you were still laughing, voice shaky and lustful as he continued to jackhammer you.

"pl- aaah! please, j! 's too good!" you wept.

"what the fuck did i do to you to make you cry like this?" he spat down at you. "my dick just that good? huh?" his hips were speeding up and he dug his nails into your skin, determined to leave some kind of mark.

"y-yes, baby, so good!" you wailed.

he growled and continued chasing his high, mumbling a, "close!" before his hips stuttered and he thrust down into you far more forcefully than he had all night. he continued to fuck you, staring down at the pearly white liquid coating his shaft after it pumped in and out, and finally pulled away when you tapped his arm tiredly.

schlatt flopped onto another couch cushion, waving his hand when you went to get up in an attempt to prevent his seed from spilling out of you and onto the couch. "you already squirted all over it, i have to get it cleaned anyway. stay comfy," he said. "ya fuckin' whore."

#chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #schlatt #x reader #jschlatt smut #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x you #schlatt smut

351 notes · View notes

deoreoo · 4 months ago

Note

AAAAAAA-

Can I get a ermmmmmmmm- Subspace x reader :3 BUT-

LIKE THEY ARE BOTH LIKE EVIL SCIENTISTS OR SOMETHING SO LIKE IN PHIGHTS THEY BE LIKE

Sub: “Prepare for trouble! >:D”

Y/n: “And make it double~ >:3”

Inserts weird evil laughing here

Other phighters: “wtf-“

Oh yeah- they’re dating btw-

Subspace x Scientist Reader!

I think i accidentally made this into a crack fic instead...

As the chaotic scene unfolded, the enemy team’s spirits seemed to sink further the scientist, known for his relentless pursuit, roared in frustration.

“COWARDS, STOP RUNNING AWAY FROM ME!”

he bellowed throwing crystals, as he chased Rocket, who was desperately trying to escape with barely any health left

Rocket his voice trembling shouted back as he tripped a couple of times trying to get away from Subspace

“Help! Someone, get this guy off me!”

But it was too late. You swiftly intervened, using your gear to cut off Rocket’s path. With a decisive move, you finished him off, ensuring he wouldn’t be a problem any longer. As Rocket’s defeat was confirmed, you turned and headed back to the point

“Well that was a clean shot darling"

Subspace said, giving you a nod of approval and placing a quick kiss on your hand as you rejoined him inside the point.

“I know im basically the best ranger out there"

You say with a smug expression on your face before moving to another place quickly making Subspace let out a loud amused laugh

When the final buzzer sounded, signaling your team’s victory, the enemy team was left in disarray

Sword could only mutter “Well, that didn’t go as planned"

Subspace, with a satisfied grin, said "Better luck next time. Maybe next time, try not to run into a wall of coordinated firepower.”

You and Subspace shared a look of triumph, knowing that today’s battle had been a decisive demonstration of your combined prowess as you both laughed maniacally enjoying the defeat of the other team

"Dear Illumina please give me enough strength to hold myself together"

Medkit mutters, his eye twitching in distraught as he looked at the both of us

"For the first time im actually glad i was on their team..."

Skateboard says as Rocket huffs and makes a side comment "wow guess it was fun not getting blown up from Subspace"

And for the rest of the phights you both would dominate everybody together as you guys would rub it in to their faces your loud laughter booming-

#phighting x reader #phighting #phighting subspace #subspace x reader

74 notes · View notes

its-short-for-jackalope · 10 months ago

Note

Hi Jack :)))

I was wondering if I could politely request some Time Bastard or Holloduke art, whichever you have more inspiration for :)))

[ insert maniacal laughter here ]

#ngl i see 'time bastard' and my brain just immediately goes to t h e c u b e so here you go #jack jabbers #drawing request #hatchetfield #starkid #hatchetfield fanart #nightmare time #nmt #time bastard #ted spankoffski #homeless ted #artists on tumblr #digital art #clip studio paint #csp

109 notes · View notes

mommalosthermind · 1 month ago

Text

Insert maniacal laughter here

#THE BOOPENING HAS BEEN SPOOPIED

10 notes · View notes

channelsurfer02 · 6 months ago

Text

Slayers Pokémon Teams: Filia Ul Copt

Welp, since I did Xellos today I might as well do Filia too (please don’t take that out of context). Now I don’t personally ship them that much, but the fandom’s decreed they’re a package deal and I do ever so enjoy their bitter banter. I also like Filia’s character in general, so that was a motivator as well. So, without further delay, onto the adorkable dragon lady’s equally adorkable team!

Dragonite: Obviously I had to include at least one dragon pokemon. But why Dragonite? Well, for one thing it looks kinda like Filia. For another, Dragonite are often described as helpful creatures known for rescuing sailors, which fits Filia’s modus operandi. Well, the being altruistic part, not the helping sailors part. The beginning of Slayers Try has shown that helping sailors isn’t quite Filia’s thing. But let’s ignore that, shall we?

Kangaskhan: Ah, the single parent Pokémon. Considering Filia adopted Valgaav (or at least his egg) at the end of Try, it should be no surprise that I put Kangaskhan here. Also, mega Kangaskhan could be interpreted as her and Valgaav teaming up, which is an adorable thought. Also, on a less wholesome tangent, thanks to her adoption of Valgaav, Filia is now the only Slayers main cast member, to my knowledge, who qualifies as a MILF. Let that sink in. I had this realization and now you all must too *insert maniacal laughter here*.

Charizard: Ah yes, the fire-lizard overrated starter and Game Freak’s cash cow. Putting aside my own feelings on this ‘mon, charizard is a fitting Pokémon for Filia. I mean, she’s a devout follower of the fire dragon whose actual name eludes me. Plus, much like Dragonite, kinda looks like Filia.

Audino: This one was selected for two reasons: one, it’s healing abilities are a good stand-in for Filia’s holy magic powers, and 2, the ears on Audino’s head kinda remind me of Filia’s ridiculous headpiece. I mean, I suppose it wouldn’t look TOO out of place in the Pokémon world. I’ve seen gym leaders and evil team members wear much stranger.

Polteageist: This one represents Filia’s jar obsession and choice of occupation post-TRY. Also, the ghost type is fitting considering a good chunk of her species was wiped out in TRY. I like to imagine that the Valley of Dragons from Next chose to stay uninvolved. Mostly because I’m pretty sure Milgazia shows up later in the novels and while I know TRY isn’t canon to the novels, I’m pretty sure it’s canon to the anime, at least to some extent, so if they adapt later material it would at least serve as a plausible explanation. Granted they could just ignore it like they did with some stuff in Revolution, but I digress.

Tinkaton: Here we have the other half of Filia’s stock and trade, maces, represented by Tinkaton. “But Channelsurfer, Tinkaton uses a hammer, not a mace!” Well excuuuuuuusssseee me princesss! Sorry if the Pokémon company hasn’t deigned to make a mace pokemon. This was the best I could do, and to be fair, it’s still a heavy bludgeoning weapon wielded by an adorable creature. If that isn’t Filia, I don’t know what is!

#Slayers #the slayers #pokémon #slayers Pokémon teams #filia ul copt

12 notes · View notes