#i apologize for everything i have ever posted

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Hii I love your writing, especially your jason todd fics! I was wondering if I could get a jason todd x reader, where she has had a lot of stress on her and it’s basically just fluff with a slight bit of angst. You can do it as headcanons or a one shot, it’s up to you! Thank you and have a good rest of your day <3333

Aww ty!! Im so sorry this took so long, life has been a little hectic recently, so this is a good time for me to get back into things

Just a Crappy Night

Jason Todd x Stressed! Reader

Guys I promise I'll start posting more regularly soon😰

First, your alarm didn't go off.

It wasn't a huge deal, at first. You woke up at 6:27 AM, so you still had a bit of time to do your makeup and hair before work. But waking up almost half an hour late puts every one into a crappy mood.

Then, your car keys died on you.

Honestly, you don't think they ever have before. You didn't even have the right batteries to replace them! And, of course, it was the cold-as-balls spring Gotham weather that greeted you as soon as you walked out of your apartment building. To make things worse, all of your good sweaters were still in the back seat or trunk, so you had to walk to the nearest convenience store in a T-shirt. It was fucking cold.

You could feel it in your bones—like the kind of cold that gnaws, not just chills. The wind cut across your skin every time it blew, and by the time you made it to the convenience store, your fingers were stiff and your nose wouldn't stop running. They didn’t even have the batteries you needed. You settled for an overpriced cup of coffee that tasted like burnt disappointment and barely stayed warm in your hands.

Then the train was late. Of course it was. And when it did come, it was packed. Shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers who didn’t understand the concept of personal space, you were pretty sure someone coughed directly onto your neck. Your earbuds died halfway through your playlist, leaving you alone with the sounds of screeching rails and someone’s toddler screaming about juice for seven stops.

At work, your boss sent an “urgent” email asking for a report you’d already submitted yesterday—twice. You pointed it out. They replied with a thumbs-up emoji. No apology. No acknowledgment. Just that damn emoji.

Lunch was worse. You were looking forward to the leftovers you’d brought from last night—Jason had cooked, and it was one of those rare nights he didn’t almost burn the kitchen down. But someone stole your container out of the break room fridge. Who does that?

You ended up eating sad vending machine pretzels and a can of flat soda while trying not to cry in front of your monitor.

The rest of the afternoon dragged. Your inbox wouldn’t stop pinging. You dropped your pen three times. A coworker made a passive-aggressive comment about your “resting stress face.” By the time you finally made it home, your feet hurt, your head ached, and you were one minor inconvenience away from losing it.

Then Jason showed up.

He let himself in, all leather jacket and soft eyes, carrying takeout and smiling like the world hadn't tried to ruin you all day. You didn’t even let him speak.

You didn’t even look at him when he walked in. You heard the door open, heard the soft thud of his boots on the floor and the rustle of the takeout bag, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not because you didn’t want him there, but because you didn’t know what would come out of your mouth if you opened it.

Jason’s voice was soft. “Hey. Brought that dumpling place you like.”

You scoffed under your breath. That was what did it, somehow—not the keys, not the cold, not the train or your asshole boss or the lunch thief. The dumplings.

You stood up too fast. “Are you serious right now?”

Jason blinked, confused. “Uh. Yeah? I thought—”

“No, that’s the problem, Jason. You didn’t think.” You didn’t mean to yell. But your voice cracked and your throat burned and everything that had been building all day spilled out in a hot, ugly mess. “You don’t get to waltz in here and play hero with takeout like that fixes anything.”

He set the bag down slowly. His face stayed neutral, calm—but you knew him well enough to see the flicker in his eyes. The one that said he didn’t expect this.

“I wasn’t trying to fix anything,” he said carefully. “I just thought you might want something warm. Something easy.”

“Nothing’s easy.” You spat the words like poison. “Not today. Not this week. Not—God, Jason. I’m so tired.”

His silence pressed in around you. You hated it. Hated how patient he was. How gentle. How it made you feel like the worst person alive for yelling at someone who just wanted to feed you.

But the anger didn’t go away. It stayed under your skin like a fever. It wasn’t about him, but he was here. And you couldn’t keep holding it in.

“I had to walk in the fucking freezing cold, in a goddamn T-shirt, because I couldn’t get into my own car. I got coughed on. I had to eat fucking vending machine food while that bitch from accounting laughed like a hyena at something I wrote. And now you come in like some... fix-it boyfriend with dumplings and dimples and I—” Your voice broke. “I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.”

Jason stepped back, hands half-raised like he was surrendering. “Okay. That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

You stared at him. His face was unreadable now, jaw tight but eyes still soft. That just made it worse.

“I just need space,” you muttered, voice shaking. “I need, like... an hour. I just need not to be looked at like I’m broken, or sad, or something you have to fix."

Jason nodded once. “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

You didn’t answer. You just slipped into your room, shut the door, and collapsed onto your bed. You didn’t cry at first. You just lay there, clutching a pillow like it might hold you together.

Eventually the tears came. Silent, exhausted, hollowing. Not loud or dramatic—just the kind that made your chest hurt.

An hour later, the door creaked open. All you heard were soft footsteps. No words. Jason climbed into the bed behind you, wrapped an arm around your waist, and pulled you close before covering you with the plush comforter. You didn’t resist. He didn’t say anything. Just held you. He kept one hand on your hip, the other brushing slow lines across your arm.

“I’m sorry I yelled,” you mumbled after a long while, the sound muffled slightly by his chest.

“I know,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to the crown of your head. "You're okay, sweetheart. It's all over now."

Eventually, the silence softened.

Your tears had dried into that hollow, shaky calm that comes after a storm—eyes puffy, throat sore, body heavy. Jason didn’t move. He just stayed wrapped around you, warm and steady, letting you breathe. Letting you be.

“Are the dumplings still warm?” you mumbled into his shirt.

He let out a small breath of a laugh. “Probably not. But I can heat them up.”

You shook your head against him. “Don’t wanna move."

There was a pause. Then: “Be right back.”

He slipped out of bed and padded quietly into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with the takeout bag, two sets of chopsticks, and the smell of something vaguely spicy and fried.

He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the box, and offered you the first bite like he always did.

You sat up, messy and quiet, and took it. The dumpling was warm-ish. A little soggy. But it tasted good—maybe even better than usual, because your stomach had been a clenched fist all day and now it was finally unclenching.

Jason climbed in next to you, cross-legged, holding the box between you both like it was sacred. You ate in silence, trading bites, not needing to say much. You didn’t even realize how hungry you were until the box was almost empty.

You licked chili oil off your thumb and looked at him. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For still being here.”

Jason looked at you like he always did when he wasn’t sure whether to kiss you or just hold you tighter. “You had a shitty day. That doesn’t scare me off.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I was kind of an asshole.”

He shrugged gently. “You didn’t mean it. And honestly? I’ve been worse.”

You laughed quietly, and he kissed the top of your head. “You want me to clean up?”

You shook your head. “Tomorrow.”

When the last dumpling was gone and you’d both fallen into that quiet post-meal haze, Jason reached over you carefully and grabbed the empty takeout box. You watched through half-lidded eyes as he leaned past the bed and set it gently on the nightstand, chopsticks sticking out like little flags of peace.

Then he turned back to you, tugged the blanket up over your shoulder, and smoothed it down like he was sealing you in.

“You good?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, too tired to speak, eyes already closing.

Jason kissed your forehead, then settled in beside you again, arm snug around your waist.

Masterlist

[gatheringbones]

jsyk know pat kalifa supports pedophilia and he's not or has ever been subtle abt it :^( it's ok if u don't know, I have yet to see any apologies for it either. He kind 9f just....doesn't care. I just saw uve posted stuff written by him in da past. Luv your blog tho I was just shocked to see that guy. And tbh even if he did apologize I feel like everything he's ever said is pretty worthless bc of his pro pedophilia and pro nambla takes, like idk wanna know sum1s theory on sexuality if they think that shit. I just rly want ppl to be aware so I'm sending u this ask in good faith not to call u stupid bc pat kalifa is unfortunately just popular but I find this worth pointing out

yes, his explanation and apologies are very important to me, I like knowing how and why people end up thinking things like that and what it takes to change their minds and what shapes those changes take on in that process. The reasons for his thinking and the historical context behind it matter to me very much.

was there anything else?

[crtter]

In case you’ve only recently followed me because of some mildly funny post I’ve made, you have to know that I’m also bizarro world ꓪereraꓲрh. Instead of being all about big burly werewolves, I’m all about campy sleazebag fictional con men. If he looks like Honest John from Pinocchio could be his fursona, I want him carnally. So, not to scare anyone, but seeing new Iyami content and (hopefully) getting some new pieces of Spamton lore is gonna be a category 5 Blorbo event for me. I apologize in advance and I’ll try to keep everything properly tagged but I WILL be going supernova over the ugliest cartoon men you’ve ever seen and even Photograph Matthew potentially fucking this website up for good won’t be able to stop me.

Speaking of, it’s crazy how the stars aligned in such a way that we’re getting ch. 3 and 4 of Deltarune in June and season 4 of Osomatsu-san in July. Like, a new iteration of only one of the two would already have me going through a grisly horror movie werewolf transformation scene where I’ll emerge looking exactly the same but about 1000% more annoying than I usually am. BOTH of them, though? Unprecedented situation. My brain will be releasing chemicals completely unknown to science in my body. I can’t be held responsible for the way I’m gonna act for, at the very least, the rest of 2025.

[thenarwhalgal]

At what point does Jinx’s crimes against Piltover in Arcane go from appalling, to an understandable if even necessary evil? This is not to say she did nothing wrong. It would be a lie to claim that. The whole point of Arcane is that even with the best intentions sometimes you just end up making everything worse.

But those who see all of her actions as bad because they’re terrorism, because ‘violence is wrong’… and therefore shooting a missile at the council is automatically an unforgivable crime, who can’t understand why they took her character the way they did in season 2, how Ekko could make up with her, how Zaun started looking up to her as a hero, I just want to ask a question.

At what point is it ethical to use violence as a tool against injustice and subjugation? If it ever is. Even if every peaceful option has been walked down before and the best that ever gets you is the tolerance of being allowed to exist as long as you don’t exist too loudly. That’s not a hard answer, there’s no definite line in the sand here. It’s one you have to draw yourself.

Personally? I think the reason some people look at Jinx and see an irredeemable monster, is because they live in a society that feels more like Piltover to them than Zaun. Have already drawn a line of what Zaun is in their society so that they live above it, are better than it.

How fucked does a country have to get before we can fight back and people will look back on us as revolutionaries instead of terrorists? Two sides of the same coin after all, the only real difference is perception.

[daddario]

it drives me fucking crazy that Dean gets an entire fucking monologue about being possessed by Michael but Sam, a character who has been possessed by at least THREE different beings, one of which he was tricked into by someone he trusts, and one of which was the devil himself, gets one fucking line at the end of s9 that isn’t even about the experience itself but rather a cursory mention of the psychological fallout of his body being used to murder Kevin in a season that otherwise seems to disregard his experience entirely.

[quartzitess]

Repost.

Lots of text and ramble in tags.

(Sadly tags are not enough to express how I feel on this. So I'll try and maybe add more in a reblog tomorrow.)

[xxprincess1x]

Darling, It'll Be Alright | Gentlebeard Fanvid

Show: Our Flag Means Death

Music: Darling, It'll Be Alright by Allman Brown

[sylustra]

Sylus saying "...don't run" to MC when they're finally being openly honest about their desire for one another and their trust and shared spaces.

[ingravinoveritas]

You've probably got a thousand things to say about the latest "The Kiss" info, but I have been thinking about it all morning, especially about the way there seems to be no need to acknowledge it between the two of them. They just went for it, and then they didn't feel the need to talk about it. Idk about everyone else but to me that just feels like to them, this was just a kiss among perhaps many. They knew the song and dance around it already, so there was no need to mark it as different other than it being in characters rather than out of.

But those are just my thoughts. So excited to hear about yours if you have any :3

Hi there! Oh, yes…yes, I do have so many thoughts about Michael talking about the kiss, and The Assembly in general.

Something I'm not sure I've mentioned on here (at least not in a long time) is that five years ago (in June of 2019), I wrote a thread on Twitter about fanfic and why it was so important to me as an autistic woman, as well as the role it played when I began to discover my sexuality. I received a lovely comment from Neil, and on top of that, Michael reposted it from me, which was entirely unexpected but delightful.

So when I first heard about The Assembly, I was anxious, apprehensive, and uncomfortable--mainly because of how the autistic/ND interviewers would potentially be depicted on screen. By the end of the show, however, I was in tears--and for once, in a good way. Michael did not let me down for one single second (which I did not think he would), and I loved how he and everyone else just held space for each other during the group singalong to "Here Comes the Sun."

(The only thing I haven't liked is seeing some of the response on social media that suggests Michael did an extraordinary thing just by talking to autistic/disabled people like we are human beings. It shouldn't be special when he or anyone else does that, but it's depicted that way because it is unfortunately still so rare...)

In terms of Michael talking about the kiss with David, it was of course so lovely to see his expressions and listen to him talk about what it was like. For me it was the fact that he actually didn't say that much that was so revealing. It was perfectly in line with what was reported about what Michael said a month ago, about it being "everything you dream of." With the Assembly, we could now see and hear him talking about it and that same carefulness with which he gave the previous answer--a carefulness borne not out of wanting to hide something, but wanting to keep something about the kiss private. Just for him and David.

I also feel like some folks might have misunderstood what he meant when he said, "We never talk about it," though. I think the unspoken part after that is, "We never talk about it, not because we don't want to, but because we don't need to"...

And I agree with you that it was exactly that--one kiss out of many, something so tried and true that neither David nor Michael had to give it much thought. It also makes me think of previous discussions about comments from David about how, between the sunglasses and the contact lenses for Crowley, he couldn't see shit, yet he only needed one take to find Michael's lips. It's like needing a GPS when you drive someplace new, but then it quickly becomes familiar, and after a while you don't need anyone to tell you how to get there. Because you already know the way home.

Talking about the kiss like this almost gives a feeling of domesticity, of something deeply intimate, beyond the physical. I'm thinking of it as well in tandem with David's comments from prior to the BAFTAs, about it being "another day at work" and saying that Michael had "brushed his teeth." There are so many examples from movies or TV shows where a couple wakes up in bed together in the morning and when one person goes in for a kiss, the other stops them and says "Not until you've brushed your teeth" (or something to that effect). And it just makes me picture them getting up to film that day and sharing a good morning kiss, after which David gently reminds Michael to brush his teeth before he gets to the set. (And he does, because Michael never forgets anything David tells him.)

The last thing that I wanted to mention that stood out to me was Michael talking about how moved everyone was--both the people who watched the kiss be filmed on set, and the fans who watched it in the show. You could actually hear the way his voice caught in his throat, hear him become emotional just from remembering that. And it made me think back to when GO 2 came out last summer, in the midst of the Writers Strike (and then SAG-AFTRA) and how Michael was probably reading all of the fan reactions online and feeling very much the same way, even though he couldn't say anything about it.

So it becomes even more poignant and compelling that now, when he finally can say anything he wants at all about the kiss, he gives us so little. Or maybe just enough, with a small, knowing smile on his face. Because he's found a boy he likes, and he has his photo.

Those are my thoughts on Michael talking about the kiss on The Assembly. I know it's been a week now, but hopefully everyone has had time to process it too, so I'd love to hear what you all think. Thank you for writing in! x

[n0v4hertz]

a popular dance partner.

@theemmtropy i had to immediately sketch out gale after i read your post. hes just so. i want to [REDACTED] him.

[esoraluco]

how to: make me never want to play your game again!

make my favorite, CLEARLY LARGE (could be buff, fat or both) character skinny

[ohsweetflips]

today has been so emotionally weird it’s like 6pm struck and pandora’s box 2 opened

[mistrias]

anyway sue zhao i would have loved you better but i could not have loved you more

[skeletalheartattack]

just give him some time to come to terms with it. he'll be alright.

[Referencing this post]

[thequimmqueen]

My night was going pretty swell until I remembered Timm x Cecilia exists.

Then I just felt sick. So damn sick.

[intergalacticfloralexplorers]

Intergalactic Floral Explorers AU: The Full Story

-The rest of Event 1 and first intermission-

Event 1(cont.):

-After Brittany gathers some pikmin from the onion (which only contained blues, rocks ,and winged pikmin) she would encounter a bomb wall. The bomb wall blocks the section to where the ‘courage reactor’ was originally found, which is also where Olimar is. Olimar and Brit realize this, and at this point the ship contacts them. Olimar attempts to contact Louie and Brittany contacts Alph.

- Cut to Alph waking up on top of the snowman, having no memory of how the ship crashed. He finds the yellow onion and some yellow pikmin digging up bomb rocks. After calling them over, he walks in the direction where the Fiery Bulblax is and lo and behold, Charlie is being attacked by it. A yellow pikmin (Rigol) saves him by throwing a bomb rock at the Bulblax. Charlie was over there because he was retrieving Alph’s koppad (C’s broke during the crash) and after getting it back, A and C retrieve the call from Brittany.

- A and C are on their way to their location, Brit tells Oli and the ship the good news (Oli was unable to contact Louie) and so they opt to wait. The ship is making minor repairs to the Drake at this same time too. But then the Smoky Progg appears behind a distracted Olimar, killing 2 red pikmin. Olimar flees holding the last remaining red pikmin, Brit comms Alph and Charlie to hurry!

- The Progg corners Olimar, and Oli braces himself for a fight, but then Louie comes seemingly out of nowhere and strikes one of its eyes with his butcher knife. 

-The Progg flees, O and L stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before Olimar begins to express his relief, for Louie is ok, and also concern, for Louie’s nose is bleeding. Lou tells him he’s fine, and the nosebleed was from the crash and that it's nothing. 

- Distant explosions are heard, A B and C have destroyed the wall. O and L reunite with the koppaites just before dusk, and they head back into the Drake, ending the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An “Intermission” period would occur to answer asks, explore characters and areas, introduce the leading piks, Blue returns to our universe, etc. y'know, a little break before the story continues :]

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