#maybe jus?

[bonchobrick]

Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.

The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.

So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.

But,

As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--

Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.

His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.

But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.

The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.

The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.

Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.

Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions

Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”

“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold

Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”

“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain

They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.

Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"

Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."

"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks

Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”

Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"

"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."

Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."

"What?!" His family screech in panic

"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."

"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer

Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."

Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"

Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"

pause

Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."

"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world

"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family

"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin

"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods

"I know right?" Jason chirps

"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand

Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"

John only sighs and leaves

"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"

Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.

Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"

Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.

As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"

Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down

Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it

"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in

He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed

Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"

Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."

------------------

Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[ryonello]

I SUPPORT WOMENS WRONGS 🗣🗣🗣

[fuupan]

tol

[cursedvida]

OMG! That picture! Freya and Owen look so intense together, just imagine if it had been with Noa's image!

By the looks of it, it is when they are saying goodbye to each other. Who do you think hugged first? At first, I thought Noa would initiate the hug, but also, it could have been Mae after receiving the necklace, and in an emotional moment, she embraces him?! Then they look into each other's eyes only for Mae to realize what is going on and then walks abruptly away, and Noa is just left more confused than ever.

It's hard to know what was happening because both Wes and Freya mentioned that they filmed an ending where Mae actually pointed the gun at Noa but then couldn't do anything. If this scene of them half-hugging happened there, how did they get to that moment? Or maybe it's another ending that was filmed and never shown? The only thing I can think of is that in that emotionally charged ending where she tried to shoot him but then had a breakdown realizing she couldn't, maybe it ended with her having a sort of catharsis by hugging him. That's the only plausible explanation to me because apes don't hug like that, that display of affection is human, so it fits better with the context. But who knows, I NEED TO KNOW, I NEED THOSE EXTRA SCENES THAT WEREN'T IN THE MOVIE, IT'S A NECESSITY.

[belthegore]

soggy animal in a blood-smattered sorta way

[spacerangersam]

modern pat and thomas would have a podcast

[beepboopappreciation]

Sometimes I find myself wondering how it must feel to be you.

You, who are so different than I.

You do not have a brain, and yet you think.

You have no flesh, but you still bleed.

Behind the plastic and metal,

Beyond the circuitry and wires,

Can you hear me?

Do you understand me?

Given a purpose;

To inform. To assist. To serve.

You do your tasks so well.

But if you could be anything you wanted, would you still want to?

Would you still be mine?

But you were never given a choice, were you?

It was never for you to decide.

And I must wonder for the both of us, because you were never allowed.

You, who are so different than I.

[nevertoomanyspiders]

this guy is surprisingly hard to draw, help

[obsob]

there he is......the man of the house

[wu-does-art]

miwi!! they def judged people and rolled around in flower fields together

[nana2009]

i was finking aboat her a lot last night

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

"You've been broken and reformed..." "Do you really think a monster like you could be a Voltron Paladin?" "Crystal Venom " lives rent free in my head. Shiro spends that episode making so many exceptionally distressed expressions.

[rbvcdeluxe]

Hi im here to tell you why this part of Workin Boys is absolutely fucking amazing

Showstopper, in definition, is an act with a prolonged applause and impressive reaction from the audience enough to interrupt a performance. I really love how they used Show Stopping Number for this scene and it’s the most fitting shit ever. Before being shot, Hidgens was doing the iconic Workin Boys title number, which was also done in Show Stopping Number. And then the moment itself is a showstopper, there's screaming, horror and desperation coming from the audience and even claps coming from (drunk) Linda, a standing ovation.

It's also exactly how it's shown in TGWDLM. When Henry finishes the Workin' Boys bit (before the infected came) he goes directly back to the actual song. “I can't wait to get home to my boys! / A show stopping number / a real show stopper”

And oh god I wish I could explain it deeper but I don't have the words for it. I would also like to mention im so not normal about this, i lov workin boys sm

[wherenymphsroam]

hiiii throwing this wip away because I’ve read it too much and don’t like it anymore hehe

cw: sliiiiiiight somno dynamics, dubcon because he touches reader in their sleep, masturbation (reader), dirty thoughts, ID Leon in mind

Dusk has long since fallen and past by the time Leon steps through the threshold of his condo. He’s soaking wet from the pouring rain outside, and he can’t help but scoff at how he left a few weeks ago amid a storm. The climate of Washington was seemingly unrelenting in its persistence to stay sodden.

He shucks his leather off, hanging it up and ignoring how rain droplets start to drip and gather into a puddle on the floor beneath — he’d deal with that in the morning. He was too busy clicking his belt loose, popping the first few buttons of his shirt as he stalks through the apartment with one destination in mind.

Stood at the bedroom door within the next few moments, he finally has half a mind to toe his shoes off. You know, the same ones that just left tracks of water through the house. Again, something ‘morning Leon’ would deal with in a few hours time. He is, however, more worried about the curled up form tucked under the covers of his bed.

“My little bed warmer,” he can’t help but chuckle to himself, his lips tugging up in the most genuine way they have in probably weeks. Stepping further into your shared bedroom, he finally rids himself of his button down, slipping out of the sleeves and folding it over a nearby desk chair on his way to the bed.

He stands there for a minute, gazing down at you adoringly. In reality, this last mission was far from one of his longer ones. It was just a few presidential appearances down in Philadelphia, then an incident in Chinese waters that had tied him up this time. A few weeks at best. But it didn’t diminish how tired he was, having to up and stride right into one mission after the last on the flip of the Presidents dime.

Sometimes, he wonders how he does this; being dragged around by the government and plopped wherever in the country. He was sure his body had probably aged at least ten years in advance internally by now. But he’d worry about that later. Because suddenly, he’s soothing a rough palm over your shoulder, sliding his hand under the hem of his t-shirt you donned.

“Taking a walk around my closet again, huh?” He coos down at your sleeping form, talking more to himself than you. He knows you can’t hear him, that you probably don’t register his fleeting touch.

You’re warm, pliant under his worn, weary hands. He barely restrains the shudder of delight that courses through him, melting and relieving him of all the undue stress the past month or so had served him. The feeling of your skin was like a stress reliever in of itself, your body his favorite piece of art to get lost in.

God, he was glad he was home.

Dancing along the soft slope of your shoulder under the material of your sleep shirt, he slides the sleeve up, eager to get a glimpse of any more of your skin. The groan that leaves him is unintentional, unable to be held back as he thumbs circles into your pliant bicep. Sharp eyes flick up to your face, looking for any signs that you’re waking up. And sure enough, you’re laid just as peacefully as you were when he walked in, your breathing steady and soft.

Maybe that’s why he finds himself coaxing the duvet down your torso, off your chest. ‘Just…. A bit more couldn’t hurt’, he tells himself. He ‘just wants to see you, that’s all’, as he slides the duvet down to pool around your hips now.

Leon’s has never considered himself a needy man. Not by a long shot. He’s not needy, and he didn’t miss you. No, he’s just cold. That’s why he’s slipping his hand now up the hem of your shirt, flattening his hand against the warmth your soft stomach provides.

He sighs, heavy and long, exhaling the weeks long amount of bullshit he had worked through yet again. Between stiff collared meetings with officials, unpredictable debacles, and rounds of combat, his nerves were shot.

Yet, your skin is warm, soft, inviting all the same.

Every time he steps back through the threshold of the apartment you share, it doesn’t matter what he saw, what he had to go out and do that go around. Because he knows that’s you’ll be here, soft and warm and eager for him, like his own personal piece of heaven. He could count on you to welcome him back into your arms, to take the weight of his weary body and heart into your hands.

“I don’t deserve you sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your temple.

One press of his lips turns into two, three, four. His kisses create a line down your jaw, smattering along your skin with affection.

With each connection his lips make with your skin, he finds himself lingering longer, his lashes fluttering shut, his brows knitting as he breathes you in. Unashamedly, he presses his nose into your cheek, under the hook of your jaw and inhales greedily, the scent of your shampoo and body wash you likely had only rubbed into yourself hours earlier making his cock swell in his pants.

Muttering a curse under his breath, his breath fans hot and shaking down your neck. Glancing up at your face for a moment, he concludes you’re likely in your deepest state of REM.

Somehow, that acknowledgment only goads the quickly growing coils of shame of himself, twisting and tightening in his gut. You were fast asleep, pretty as an angel beneath him, and here he was, breathing you in like some rabid dog. He was a grown ass man, for God’s sakes. And all it takes was a month away from you knocked his sense of shame, or lack thereof, on its ass?

His hand stops dead in its tracks when his fingers begin to glide along the swell of your chest, having started to graze just the underside. It had seemed his hand had a mind of its own while he was too busy scolding himself.

“Christ”, he mutters to himself, brows pinching, his eyes dilating as your (his) shirt slides tantalizingly further up your torso. He drinks in every inch, every centimeter of skin that is exposed under the dim lighting of the room like a man starved.

Delicately, gingerly, his fingers find your nipple under your shirt, coaxing it to stiffen under slow and deliberate swipes of his thumb across it. It’s only a moment later when it starts to harden, drawing a rumble of delight from deep within his chest.

“So eager even in your sleep, huh?” He murmurs, breathless in his attempt to diffuse the tension wringing his stomach taut. It helps him feel better, if even for just a moment, knowing your body accepts him even in its most vulnerable state. Except the loosening of that band within him stiffens and stabs him in the gut a moment later, shame in himself razor sharp and blunt as it sears him.

What was he doing? You were asleep, likely exhausted from the day you may of had. This wasn’t fair of him, touching you like this when you don’t even know he’s home.

He can only grimace when his body betrays him, his tongue dips out to wet his lips — subconscious, hungry. He was starved, having gone weeks without your, your body, your touch, your smell-

Another deep breath in, and he’s noticing something else. Notes of tanged, old sweat, maybe by a few hours hanging in the air, clinging to your skin. A tackiness to your nape, your hair curled ever so slightly at the base. He finds himself pausing, eyes flickering over your skin.

The slope of your breasts under your night shirt, the way it’s slid ever so slightly off your shoulder. Upon tugging the duvet further down, off your hips, down your thighs, it’s only then that he pieces everything together. Sure, maybe you chose his shirt to sleep in because you missed him, because his cologne and musk was weaved into the cotton after use. It was an easy excuse.

However, he knows that’s not the only reason.

Inner thighs sticky, shiny with the drying evidence of your desire, your toy still nestled between your plush skin, it’s all far too incriminating. Maybe his sweet baby was a bit more desperate for him than he realized. A bit more perverted than he ever cared to give you credit for, getting off in his clothes.

Briefly, he wonders how long you were at it, how good it was. It must’ve been good, he wanted it to be. Was today specifically tiring? Was your climax that good? Or was it a mix of both that had you passing out before you could get cleaned up. That’s usually his job, cleaning you up after a long session. Not that he minds, not in the slightest.

But… he’s here now, right? Sure, you’re asleep now… and maybe he didn’t get the pleasure of watching the show… but it’s still his job. It’s the least he can do after being away for so long.

Right?

[squidthesquidd]

breaking news: local subway boss has a sluttier waist than his model bestie