#and angsting

[lambsouvlaki]

For the Hell of it 4 - Pillion

Character: Jason Todd x civilian! Fem!oc

Rating and Warnings: G, mention of vomit, mention of past abuse.

Word Count: 1,292

Summary: Jason takes Andy on his bike for the first time.

Masterlist

Jason laughed at her. Andy did not care. 

“It’s not ‘doing movies wrong’,” she replied with her chin lifted up while she held the door out of the movie theatre open for him. “It’s a passive activity, you can’t do it wrong.”

“You’re doing this one wrong, who sees Mission Impossible for the plot?” 

“What were you here for then?”

“The stunts, obviously.” He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket and strolled beside her out into the warm afternoon. They both blinked at the brightness. “That’s the whole marketing campaign. Most dangerous stunt ever attempted by a human. Don’t know how they’re judging that exactly, I’m pretty sure I’ve seen youtube videos of Nightwing pulling stupider tricks two hundred feet over concrete pavement.”

“How would they know that anyway?” she said. “‘By a human’. What, are they DNA testing the crew?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “We’d know if Tom Cruise was a Metahuman.”

“Yeah, but what if the stunt coordinator was prescient and just never told anyone. Maybe the guy who checks the ropes and harnesses got that job because he’s got the power of tensile strength detection.”

Jason snorted a laugh. “They walk among us, doing safety checks?”

“Metas gotta pay the rent too.” She suddenly wished she’d kept her stupid mouth shut. “I assume.” 

Jason didn’t seem to notice, frowning at the tinted windows of the Italian restaurant they usually went to after catching a movie. They weren’t dates, of course, because they’d agreed they weren’t dating. They were just hanging out.

She followed his eyes to the windows but couldn’t make out anything more than vague movement through the glass.

He stepped ahead of her and pushed open the door, putting himself between her and the interior. She heard glass smashing and a lot of yelling before she saw a large man in a chef’s jacket punch a man in a suit in the stomach. He threw up spaghetti and red sauce all over the floor. 

She made a face and stepped back outside, chased by the acrid stench and a chorus of yells. Jason let the door swing shut again. 

“I’m suddenly not hungry for pasta,” he groused. 

She sighed. How quintessentially Gotham. Or maybe just Crime Alley. “There’s that Greek place on the next block?”

“I had Greek food for lunch.” He looked at her with his eyes slightly narrowed. His scheming face, she called it. “How do you feel about Afghan food? There’s a great place in the Narrows.” 

“I’m not walking to the Narrows.” 

He jerked his head at his bike, parked in front of the theatre. “It’s a quick ride. And I can drop you home afterwards.”

“Oh, okay. Sure, let’s try that then.” She followed him towards the gleaming black motorbike that she was honestly a little surprised nobody had tried to steal. She paused awkwardly a couple of feet away while he got his gloves out of his back pocket. 

“I’ve never ridden pillion before. You have to tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

Jason sent her a curious look. “You’ve ridden a bike yourself?”

“Curse your attention to detail.”

He laughed. It was a warm and loud sound, and all too rare. She counted anything more than a snort as a win. 

“Never ridden pillion.” He swung a leg over the bike and patted the seat behind him. “Come on, daylight’s burning and I’m hungry.” 

She hopped up behind him, straddling the seat. It was a far more… close seating arrangement than she’d thought about in advance. Jason was tall and broad, she couldn’t see anything except his back from this position. He was so warm too, even without actually touching him. She could feel her cheeks warming a little and hoped he didn’t notice. She didn’t know where to put her hands. 

“Try to keep your leg away from the exhaust, it’ll get hot. Like that, perfect,” he said, pulling her knee slightly forward. “Now hands on my waist and try not to lean too much with the corners.”

She settled into the seat more comfortably and placed her hands on his waist. She could feel his rib cage expanding with each breath. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh.” He pulled his helmet on. “There’s gonna be a test at the end.” 

“Is the test Not Falling Off?” 

“I promise to circle round and scrape you off the road if you do. After a kebab or two.” 

“Asshole,” she said, but it was drowned out by the sudden roar of the bike. She knew he was smiling under the black helmet, she could sense it.

The bike vibrated between her legs much more than she expected, like some kind of angry beast. He wheeled it round, and then took off from the curb with a smooth acceleration. The force of the burst of speed startled her anyway and she leaned into him with a yelp. She cured around his back as they moved faster and faster, giving up on embarrassment. 

The cold air whipped past, a kaleidoscope of sounds and smells rushing by, but she was safe in the lee of his figure. He was so big and stable, it felt like wrapping herself around a column. A warm, breathing column. He smelled like leather conditioner and something smooth and earthy she couldn’t name. She tried not to lean out too much as he took corners, and found herself moving with him. It was such a tactile experience, overwhelming physical in a way she was unused to.

She shocked herself with how much she was into it. She leaned her cheek against his back. The leather of his jacket was soft. Before she met him she would have been shocked to think she’d gotten onto some man’s bike to go wherever he decided they were going. 

After the last time… in her darkest, loneliest moments she didn’t think she was ever going to trust anyone ever again. Certainly not a man, let alone one so intimidating. But she didn’t feel threatened by Jason, not in the least. 

She felt safer around him than she had in a long time. 

“Okay?” he called over his shoulder as they slowed to a stop at some lights.

“Okay!” 

She wondered if her instincts were leading her astray. She wasn’t stupid, she had seen his discoloured and ripped up knuckles, the scars lining his arms. He didn’t habitually find the exit in every room he entered due to a fear of a fire suddenly breaking out. Private security, he said his job was. In Gotham that could mean a number of things, some of them were even legal. The 200 something pounds of man between her legs was very dangerous. 

But he treated her so carefully, so gently. Like a little bird in his large hands, delicate heartbeat fluttering a mile a minute. 

Her pride raged at just how much she liked it. She hadn’t fought so hard to be in control of her life just to gamble with it now. She held on like a limpet as they pulled away from the lights. 

No. Bad Andy. Remember the last time you put your trust in someone you thought you knew? 

But Jason was nothing like Kieran. Kieran, insecure little insect, who needed someone to hold down just to reassure himself he was a man. Jason didn’t need any reassurances. He knew he was dangerous and spent more time making people feel comfortable and safe than trying to throw his weight around. 

When she was looking, that was. Just because he wasn’t the type of snake she’d encountered before didn’t mean he wasn’t going to turn around and bite her anyway. She didn’t know. He could be an all new variety of bad news. She held on a little tighter. 

City streets flashed by, and then they were shooting across the bridge, nothing but water and sky around them, dyed magnificent red in the sunset.

It didn’t matter of course. Because they weren’t dating.

Next >>

[flowerflamestars]

Migration Patterns snippet

“Dick,” Tim slurred, “Make Elle ask for your blessing.”   Busy gently removing the mask from his face and unclipping the cape Elle had failed to budge in the slightest, Dick mostly swallowed his laugh. “My blessing for what, Timbo.”   He groaned, as light actually reached his eyes. Flung his arm over his face and said matter of factually, “Kon doesn’t want me. Jason doesn’t want Ellie. Going to get married and ‘ake back the the company. Sexy affairs. Elle can be a hot widow. Everybody wins.”   There wasn’t even a pause in Dick’s steady disassembling of Tim’s suit, pulling off various belts and pieces of interlocking armor, but he looked at Elle.   Eleanor decided she was very, very interested in the view out the window.   The rest of the strip down process involved taking a blood sample, listening as Tim noted his five point plan for their loveless charade of a marriage, and an aside about that fact that if Jason tried to kill him it would be fine- he’d already had a shot and it hadn’t stuck.   Elle actually climbed out the window onto the fire escape, at that point.   Was still, numbly, looking up at the light-polluted sky, when Dick landed soundlessly beside her.   “Thought you didn’t like heights.”   “Hate them,” Elle admitted, sleeves pulled down tight over her cold, cold hands. “Would this be a good time to state for the record that I am not, and have no intention of ever, ever dating Tim?”   Dick folded himself down beside her. Wrapped his arms around his knees and then tangled his hands together too, hunched against encroaching winter. It didn’t dim the horrible kindness palpable from his smile, here in late Autumn’s dark predawn.   “I guessed that, yeah.” He bumped her shoulder, a light, glancing sway.  Grinned enormously. “Have actually seen you around Jay. And I’ve seen him look at you.”   Better than Elle had gotten, recently.

[therealtsk]

uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i'll...get back to you on that

I’m gonna be honest, people pretending Bruce has an adoption addiction Is funny and all, but it’s starting to trick people into thinking he goes out searching for and wanting to put all these actual children in the line of danger when in reality they just sorta latch onto his leg while he stands there trying shake them off screaming “NO, I’M NOT DOING THIS AGAIN” ‘till he caves and teaches them jujitsu

[bebx]

[gemsandjunk]

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[shamefulzombie]

Not Perfect

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Twins in time au but they have slightly different reactions….

[edwardcreel]

reblog if you believe fanfics are as valid as books that were published and sold by authors who write as their main careers. I'm trying to prove a point

[the-overanalyst]

it's always so fascinating and heartbreaking when a character in a story is simultaneously idolized and abused. a chosen prophet destined for martyrdom. a child prodigy forced to grow up too fast. a powerful warrior raised as nothing but a weapon. there's just something so uniquely messed up about singing someone's praises whilst destroying them.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

feeling called out today

credit: _ADWills

[prokopetz]

I fully understand why "character A is astounded at the sight of character B's penis" is a specific kink that gets tagged for, but the fact that some platforms choose to tag this kink as "penis awe" is unintentionally very funny. Now I'm picturing penis experience kink tags for all those other allegedly transcendent emotions in the glossary of your Philosophy 101 textbook. Penis faith. Penis Weltschmerz. Penis apprehension of the absurd.

[mcntsee]

The real barbie is Y/n.

Y/n’s a doctor, a cop, a scientist, an agent, vet, hero, villain, astronaut, lawyer, spy, criminal, artist, chef, engineer, psychologist, architect, journalist, firefighter, event planner, mechanic, photographer, musician, actor, interior designer, bartender, fashion designer, barista, florist, forensic scientist, flight attendant, profiler, tour guide, translator, etc.

[arysamisu]

no, its not

[lilliesand-valleys]

[bebx]

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something