#my sheets and pillows have gone in the washer with the same detergent since i was like 5 and nothings happened
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mysterious blue stains on my clothes and sheets: PLEASE LEAVE OH MY GOD LEAVE IM BEGGIN YOU PLEASE GO AWAY
#i cant wear my letterman jacket that i love dearly anymore cuz its stained and they wknt go away#i have white clothes and bras that are patchy with the same blue#my bed sheets have blue streaks on them and my pillow cases too#i googled it and jt said that its either your laundry detergent ot your jeans. i dont use detergent when washing bras i user somethn else#my jacket had specific washing instructions so im pretty sure it wasnt detergent#my sheets and pillows have gone in the washer with the same detergent since i was like 5 and nothings happened#this is all recent like 5-6 months ago recent#and also my jeans dont touch my bras. the sleeves of my jacket. or my pillow case so that wouldnt explain it either#im at a loss idk idk idk#l speaks#shut up l
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Movie Night, Pillow Fight [Version 2]
By: SassyShoulderAngel319
Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood
Rating: PG-13/T (maybe pushing M? but there’s still nothing super explicit. this is just a lot dirtier than I usually write holy cannoli. Heavy kissing, a little bit of suggestive dialogue and narration, minor swearing?)
Original Idea: This (V1 follows this idea a lot more than this one, which I spun off of about halfway through and did my own thing)
Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) I didn’t think this would be as long as Version 1. I was wrong. This one is ~200 words longer, at 3,491. Version 1 here. They start the exact same but change about halfway through. I wrote both of these two over the course of 1 day by the way, and refuse to pick a favorite. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad
^^^^^
“No, Bruce,” Jason said sharply into his phone as he grabbed his motorcycle helmet. “I’ve already told you a hundred times: Tuesdays are my day off. Unless it’s a Court-of-Owls-attacking-All-Hands-On-Deck emergency, I’m not going on patrol. I’m allowed one night off per week. And I have plans. It’s weekly movie night with a friend of mine. We’ve been doing movie night since college and I refuse to disappoint her. You know why I chose Tuesdays? Because Gotham’s crime rate is lowest. You’ll be fine without me.” He hung up before Bruce could reply.
—
I opened the door. “You’re late,” I said.
“Yeah. I had to go to two different stores to find your popcorn because they were out at the first one,” Jason replied, letting himself in and dropping his motorcycle helmet on my couch. “Let me go change into my sweats.” He pulled his grey sweatpants out of his backpack, two microwave popcorn bags falling out.
I grabbed them. “Thanks Jay,” I said playfully.
He gave me a brief hug before stepping past me to my bathroom. “The things I do for you,” he teased with a sigh.
“Get out of those jeans. You know they aren’t allowed,” I retorted before going over to the microwave. My bathroom door shut loudly. I boosted myself onto the counter and watched the popcorn spin in the microwave.
By the time Jason emerged from the bathroom, only one bag was done. He leaned against the counter next to me, arms folded, and joined my staring.
“So what movie did you bring?” I asked. “You said in your text it was one of your favorites.”
He beamed at me. “Well, my friend, we are watching the very first ever made Frankenstein. From nineteen-thirty-one.” He fixed me with a stare as my shoulders slouched. “Don’t you start moaning in complaint. You put me through watching that awful musical last week—”
“Excuse you, Phantom of the Opera is also a classic.”
“It’s basic.”
“You’re basic.”
“Maybe so, but after going through that ordeal, you promised we could watch one of my favorites. I managed not to fall asleep last week, so it’s my turn.” He stuck his tongue out at me, then shook his head. “I really need to refine your taste in theatre. Remind me to convince Bruce to give me his season tickets to the real opera. He never uses them anyway. Doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
Given Bruce’s parents were shot after leaving the opera, I imagined there was some childhood trauma there. I didn’t bring it up with Jason. We didn’t talk about family besides passing comments on movie nights.
When the second bag of popcorn was finished popping and put in its own large bowl—I had quite the collection of popcorn bowls, usually given to me—we went to my room.
Ever since we’d graduated college—two years ago—we’d had movie night in my bed, rather than on the couch, like we’d done in my dorm. The bed was comfier and gave us more room to spread out. I can’t even remember who suggested it, but it was probably me one week when I was sick or something and we’d just stayed that way ever since.
I’d always hosted too. In college it was because my roommate was never there, and now Jason just liked the escape from his family. They didn’t know where I lived, so the one time he hosted and they interrupted by coming over, he and I agreed we’d just have it at my place. I liked his brothers and sister well enough, but they’d ruined that movie night. I doubted Wayne Manor movie nights ever involved any movies no one had seen before—because everyone talked and yelled at each other too much to actually pay attention to the movie.
Jason put the DVD in the player in my room. “Prepare to be wowed,” he said.
“I’m prepared, trust me,” I replied flatly.
—
“Heeey,” Jason’s voice said softly. “Wake up, doofus.”
I blinked my eyes open blearily. “Wha…?”
He started chuckling. “You fell asleep about halfway through.”
“Duh. It was boring. What did you expect for a casual movie fan from this century watching something from nineteen-thirty-one?”
“Well, all that means is that we get to rewatch it—from the beginning—next week!” Jason declared. I frowned. “Don’t you pout at me. Those have been the official movie night rules since our freshman year of college.”
“That’s not true,” I said, pulling out my phone. I dug deep into the Google Docs on my phone for Movie Night Rules from our freshman year of college. Six years was a long way to scroll through, but eventually I found it. I opened the doc and scanned the rules. “Oh, buzz off,” I muttered, poking Jason in the side.
“No poking!” He lurched away. Jason was selectively ticklish. Sometimes I would poke him in the side and he’d jump, other times he wouldn’t even notice I touched him. And he swapped between the two randomly.
“Why didn’t you wake me up like two minutes after I fell asleep?”
Jason pursed his lips, trying not to smile. “I thought about it. But you looked so cute—” He pinched my cheek and I was reminded of the fact that he had the personality traits of an eighty-year-old grandmother. “—with your hair all messy and your cheeks all squished that I just couldn’t.” He laughed as I batted his hand away from my face. I poked him again. “No poking!”
“Then don’t tease.”
“I have a right to tease you. Look at my shirt! You drooled all over it.”
I grabbed the hem of it and pulled it up. “Let me throw it in the wash, then.”
I expected him to smack my hand away and shove the shirt back down over his torso, but to my surprise, he helped me take it off. I’d seen him shirtless too many times to bother staring at his remarkably muscular torso. I just climbed out of my bed and went to the small closet out in the hall that held my tiny washer and dryer. I threw his shirt in the washer, dumped a bit of detergent in, and got it started before going back to my room.
“Take that off! You’ll stretch it out!” I snapped.
Jason struggled to get one of my—much smaller—T-shirts from college off. I scoffed and helped him yank it over his head before throwing one my pajama shirts at him. I wore my dad’s old T-shirts to sleep in, so it was even big on Jason. “You could have just asked for a replacement and I’d have handed you this.”
“That’s not as fun as surprising you,” he joked.
I rolled my eyes and perched back on the bed. “Fine. Next week, we rewatch Frankenstein. I won’t fall asleep. But you’re bringing snacks again.”
“Of course.”
“And don’t forget the popcorn.”
“Doofus, if I forgot the popcorn, you wouldn’t let me through the door.”
I snickered. “True enough.”
Jason leaned over to set his popcorn bowl on the bedside table closest to him. “Maybe next week we should try this on the couch. I always feel bad about getting popcorn on your sheets—and then you won’t be so comfortable that you fall asleep.”
I grabbed a pillow and whacked him in the chest. His expression turned affronted.
“Did you just initiate a pillow fight?” he demanded.
“No,” I retorted. “I got payback for you insulting me.” I whacked him again. “That was me initiating a pillow fight.” I started flinging the pillow at him again and again.
“Hey! Not fair!” Jason protested. “I’m unarmed!”
I ignored him and kept up my pillow smacking.
He laughed. “Well, if you’re going to play dirty, I will too.” He reached out as my pillow hit him again and he wrangled it from me. “A-ha! Look at that! Got your ammo. How does it feel, to be attacked by your own pillow?”
Jason started smacking me with it. I squealed and blocked him as best I could with my arms. We were both laughing as I tried to reach around him to the pillow he’d been using to brace his back against my headboard. He grabbed my wrist with one hand and hit me with the pillow using the other. “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’m not going easy on you just because you’re adorable.”
I laughed as he nearly hit me hard enough to knock me off the bed.
So, I switched tactics.
Getting inside his much longer reach was the hard part. Once I managed to duck around his arms and wrench my wrist free, I started tickling him. Tonight was a ticklish night. He squirmed away from me.
Jason yowled—and I hoped my neighbors weren’t home—in laughter. “Stop it—stop tickling!”
I didn’t. I ran my wiggling fingers up his sides and across his neck. He tried to catch my hands, but I was quick enough to evade him.
For a few moments anyway.
“No. No!” His protests didn’t work on me. “Oh you’re as bad as my brothers. Stop it—stop it.” His voice went firm, all traces of laughter gone. With one quick movement, the pillow we’d attacked each other with was discarded on the floor. He grabbed my ankles and pulled me so I was lying flat in the center of the bed.
Jason straddled my waist, trapping my lower legs with his ankles and pinning both my hands above my head on the mattress. He was breathing hard. We both were.
He smiled. “There. Not so feisty now, are you? Hands pinned above your head, lying beneath me all… helpless.” He chuckled and licked his lower lip, his smile turning both playful and wicked. “I could have… any kind of revenge I want.” He bent his elbows, lowering himself over me. My breathing grew shorter and blood roared in my ears. “I can have any…” He paused, eyes flicking from mine to where my necklace charm had fallen down one side and landed on the mattress. His eyes widened, as if he seemed to just barely realize how close we were. “This is…” His elbows straightened, pushing him higher above me. “I’m… sorry.” He started to gently pick his way off of me. “I’m gonna let you go now.”
He released his grip on my wrists. I rolled them and flexed my hands to get some feeling back into them.
He swung his leg to get off me and used it to step off the bed. “I should go,” he said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry. I’ll grab my T-shirt next week.” He strode to the door of my bedroom while I sat on the bed, dumbfounded, jaw hanging open.
As he opened the door, I bounded off the bed.
I caught him before he could reach for his stuff on my couch, grabbing his wrist. “What was that about?” I demanded. He refused to turn and look at me.
“Just… let it go,” he said, shaking his head. He tried to pull his wrist out of my hand, but I grabbed it with my other one to hold him in both.
“No! What the hell is going on with you?”
“Leave it alone,” he growled out.
“I can’t! What happened in there that made you shut down? What did I do wrong?”
He whirled. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s me!”
“Then tell me what it is!” I shouted.
Jason grabbed me by the shoulders, wrenching out of my grip so hard my fingers ached. He spun me around and pinned me by the shoulders against my front door. A muscle worked in his jaw as he clenched it before fixing me with a crystal blue stare. “It’s just… seeing you beneath me—all flushed pink and panting, your eyes hooded and staring up at me… seeing you like that… I just felt myself fall in love with you!”
If he hadn’t pinned me against the door I probably would have fallen over from shock. My mouth definitely fell open. “Jay… I…” I breathed.
Still holding my shoulders, he spun me around so I was away from the front door and moved to shove his jeans into his backpack.
Before he could, I threw reservation to the wind.
I grabbed his shoulders, forced him to turn and face me, moved my hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down to kiss me.
Our mouths crashed together hard enough to make my front teeth ache, but I didn’t care. My heart leapt into my throat and I almost melted as his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer, so our torsos were pressed against each other. My eyelids closed as I sighed. We were both breathing hard, air from our noses warm against each other’s skin. Holding my waist in both arms, he turned and pinned my back against the door again.
“Oh, God…” Jason breathed against my lips. He kissed me again and I moaned. He reached one hand up and tangled it in my hair. He could palm the back of my skull as though it were a basketball. His fingers were warm against my scalp.
When he pulled his lips away from me, I groaned quietly in complaint.
“We—we should not be doing this,” he whispered, shaking his head. The white streak at the front of his hairline flopped back and forth with the movement. I wanted to reach my fingers up and twist that streak between them. But I didn’t.
“Why not?” I replied, just as breathless.
“We’re friends. This isn’t us.”
“You just said that you just barely fell in love with me.”
“I did. But I’m not willing to ruin the good thing we’ve had going on here for six years.” He panted, shoulders heaving up and down, as he reached up and took my hands away from his face, gently dragging them by the wrists. “You’ve been the best friend I’ve been able to keep longer than a year or two. I can’t… I can’t just… this isn’t about what I want.”
“I’m the one who kissed you,” I pointed out. “What does that say about what I want?”
“It’s not just about wants,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Us being together is dangerous? To whom?”
“To you.”
“Why would it be dangerous for me?” I pushed.
He let me go and spun away from me. He looked like he wanted to shout and rage—maybe throw something—but he just clenched his fists and panted.
When he finally turned back to face me, he’d calmed down a little. “It’s dangerous… because… I… oh, Bruce is gonna kill me…” he whispered, shaking his head again. “Because I… am… the Red Hood.”
Two big confessions in one night. I felt a little dizzy and remembered to breathe.
“Red Hood. As in… the vigilante. And… the crime boss.”
“Vigilante, yes. Crime boss days are behind me. I was newly-back-from-the-dead and not in a stable mindset when I became a crime boss.” I decided not to ask about that. He huffed and sat on my coffee table, instead of the sofa, rubbing his temples. “And I wasn’t going to tell you about it, by the way. You’re the only normal friend I have right now. But it’s too dangerous for us to be together. If any of the rogues in this city knew I had someone I cared about as much as I care about—as much as I love you… you would not survive to the end of the year.”
I crossed from the front door to the sofa and sat on the sofa cushion closest to him, setting my hand on his knee. “Jay, I… I’m willing to risk it. To be with you. We just need to be careful—”
“I’m not willing to lose you. I would have been terrified before tonight if someone worse than me caught you. Knew you were just a friend. Now, though? Now, I don’t know what I’d do if you were captured, and that scares me even more. I saw you under me in that bedroom and I saw a future that was good—for the first time in the nine years since I was resurrected—but I can’t let that be my future. For your sake.”
I bit down on my tongue to keep from shouting. But I did tighten my grip on his knee hard and snap, “Get over yourself, Todd. You’re not the only one who gets to make this decision.”
“No, but apparently I’m the only one who can see things objectively enough to make the wise decision.”
It was my turn to want to throw something. “Jason. Peter. Todd. I don’t care about the danger. And I know you do. But do you know what it’d do to me, knowing that you love me and I feel the same, but you won’t let me be yours? Do you know what it would do to you? I know what it would do to me. It would eat me up inside day in and day out. I would sit here dying for you, waiting for you to come to your senses and carry me back into that bedroom to stay in there all night. But you never would. And I would just wait. I’d never date anyone else. If I tried, all I’d be doing was wishing they were you.
“You and I are cut from the same cloth. Some people are just born to sacrifice. To give up what they want—what they need—for the sake of other people. It’s the only choice we’re ever given, so it’s the choice we make over and over and over again. Sometimes people will split others into Givers and Takers. Those of us born to sacrifice are a step beyond even Givers. We’re the ones who give up everything for others. I’ve done it with my family my entire life. Everyone else always wanted so strongly that my only option was to give up my own. You’re the same, I see it every time I see you with your brothers.
“Jason, it’s time for us to Take. It’s time to let life give us something. This is the moment to be selfish. To put aside Batman and his zealous crusade for one damn moment and let yourself be happy.” I dug my fingernails into his knee through his sweats. “Be selfish for once, Jason.”
He finally looked up at me, eyes meeting mine. “I can’t,” he said.
I clamped my mouth shut and sighed loudly through them. “Yes, you can. If you’re waiting for my consent, you’ve more than got it. I’m telling you now to give yourself consent to want. To take. Get over this hold out that a double life has on you and—mmph!”
He cut me off by slamming his lips against mine, surging off the coffee table and straddling me on the sofa. I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me to one side, sitting on the sofa and guiding me to straddle himself. His hands were splayed over my shoulder blades. I twisted his white streak through my fingers. Our breath shuddered in and out of our lungs. I parted my lips slightly and ran the tip of my tongue over the seam of his lips.
They opened immediately and let me in. I sighed out my nose. “Please ruin our friendship,” I breathed into his lips. “This is so much better.”
He snickered out his nose, smiling. “Does your consent to let me want you include me carrying you back into that bedroom and neither of us leaving until dawn?” He nodded toward my room.
My body shivered. Not from cold. Excitement. Electricity.
“Definitely,” I said breathlessly.
His hands slid from my shoulder blades and down to my legs. He held them and stood up. I hooked my ankles around his back, locking my arms’ grip around his neck.
He carried me to my room, kicked the door shut, and laid me gently on the messed-up bedsheets and disarrayed pillows. On all fours above me, my legs around his waist, he kissed me. Gently, at first, but he quickly grew hungry. His hands worked their way under my shirt, callused palms scraping slightly against my skin.
“Still okay with this?” His voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper.
“Oh yeah,” I breathed, unable to even speak loud enough to be heard from inches away.
He smiled. Wicked delight flickering on his face. “Well, get ready for me to call you mine. Because I am all yours.”
I smiled. “I’m yours, Jason.”
#Movie Night Pillow Fight#Version 2#Movie Night Pillow Fight Version 2#Jason Todd#Jason Todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#Red Hood#red hood imagine#red hood fanfiction#DC#dc imagine#dc fanfiction#BatFam#batfam imagine#batfam fanfiction
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Love Letters
a/n: this is the product of watching tatbilb, me being a softy, and shawn looking like a snug bug. short and pure fluff!
You sighed and rested the laundry basket on your hip. You looked down at the large pile of clothes on the floor, back to the almost overflowing basket on your hips, then over to your front door. You knew behind that door was a long hallway, nine flights of narrow stairs, and the hope that the one washer that actually managed to get all of the soap out of your clothes without you needing to rinse them in the sink was waiting for you. You groaned and dropped the basket at your feet. You spread your arms out wide and flopped back onto your bed. Laundry wouldn’t be so bad if it was on your floor, but the nine flights of stairs one way just to try to wash your clothes made enjoying your Saturday night alone impossible.
You sat up straight in bed as an idea struck you. You chewed your bottom lip nervously, not sure if you should, but you knew Shawn wanted you to use his place with he was gone since he hated yours. He tried to hide it most days, but he wasn’t very good at it. You slid on shoes that were in slightly better shape than your flip flops that were bound to your apartment building since they frequently tried to come apart every twenty steps. You grabbed your large laundry basket, shoving the rest of the clothes inside hastily, before resting the smaller basket on top, and tossing the detergent and dryer sheets on the pile. Shawn had probably meant for you to use his place to sleep or cook since yours was far away from everywhere you went and your stove only worked every other Tuesday after you prayed to Satan himself to light the burners from hell. Your landlord wasn’t exactly your biggest fan.
You carried the baskets out of your apartment and down eight flights of stairs, breathless by the time you made it, but you knew if you stopped walking now you’d never make it to your car. You groaned in relief when you finally deposited the baskets into your backseat and dropped your backpack full of work you needed to complete in the passenger seat. At least Shawn’s place would be nicer to work at than the dingy basement as you waiting for your laundry.
You drove to his place absentmindedly, so familiar with the route that you mostly focused on the radio on the way over. When you pulled up to his building, you swung around back for the garage, pausing in front of the gate to pull the pass out of your wallet. Shawn had made sure to give you the pass to the garage too so you wouldn’t have to pay to park near his place. He really had tried to think of everything before leaving you for his tour.
You parked next to his Jeep, your small, beat up car looking ever more pathetic next to his. You pushed the thoughts from your mind as you grabbed your laundry and headed for the elevator, practically moaning when you remembered his place actually had a working elevator, an elevator that took you from the basement garage all the way up to his floor without any violent shaking or creaking that made your heat skip uncomfortably. You fumbled with your key ring to get to his key, dropping your laundry to the ground to find it. He’d slipped it onto your key ring before he left even though you tried to tell him you’d barely be over without him and that it could be separate from your keys. He hadn’t listened. What was his, was yours to him even if you didn’t feel the same way.
You kicked the baskets inside when you finally got the door open, sighing with satisfaction when you locked the door behind you. The air conditioning was never on the fritz here and his washer and dryer were in-unit, and for those two things, you were eternally grateful. You dropped your backpack onto one of the dining room chairs, your brows furrowing when you saw a little piece of paper folded up and sitting in the middle of the otherwise completely bare table. Your brows furrowed further, the way your mother always told you they would stick like if you kept doing it, when you saw your name on it. You hesitantly picked it up, recognizing that it was written in Shawn’s handwriting. You gently unfolded it to read what was on the inside.
You look beautiful today, babe :) And I miss you! Just thought you should know!
You shook your head as a wide smile came across your face. You read the note over again, thinking about how he’d take the time to write it while packing it leave, using some of his last few moments at home to leave it for you. You folded the note back up neatly and put it in the front pocket of your backpack, already knowing where you were going to put it on your wall full of lots of other little souvenirs you’d kept from dates with Shawn like award show passes, movie stubs, and amusement park tickets.
You pulled the smaller basket of laundry up off the larger one and headed for the closet that contained his washer and dryer. You dropped down to the washer, setting the basket back on the floor, as you noticed a second small folded up piece of paper taped to the front of the washer, this time with ‘Babe!’ scrawled on the front of it. A smile was tugging at the corner of your lips before you even opened it.
You’re using my washer and dryer! So glad you’re making yourself at home here. Feel free to use my detergent and whatever else you want :) I love you!
You folded the note up carefully again and slid it into your pocket, making a mental note to put it in your backpack with the other one and to text Shawn when you finally got your laundry started. You shoved your clothes in quickly, poured a cap full of detergent into the drawer on the machine and starting it up. You headed over to the table after you heard the water start to pour into the machine and pulled your phone out along with both notes. You snapped a picture of both of them, send it to Shawn with a simple ‘miss you and love you!’ alongside the picture.
You yanked your laptop out of your bag with the papers you needed along with your headphones to get to work. Before you could start, your phone buzzed, Shawn’s name lighting up the screen and floating over a picture of the two of you one of your friends took at a bar. He didn’t look like the famous Shawn Mendes in it. He was just your Shawn in it. You grabbed your phone and slid open his message. ‘There’s so many more where that came from!’ was all it said.
He’d written more? How many had he written? You had to know. You pulled your headphones off and rose to your feet. You weren’t sure where to start since they could be anywhere. You headed into the living room, quickly spotting one taped to the remote control, reminding you he thought the face you made when you concentrated on a TV show and what his Netflix password was in case the TV logged him out. You found a second on the back of the couch cushion that always liked to fall down that just said: I love you so so much, pretty girl :)
You kept searching. You found one on a tub of your favorite ice cream he also must have bought before he left, another on an empty shelf in the fridge, one on the bathroom mirror, and another on his pillow. Altogether, you found sixteen notes and you were sure there were some you missed. You collected them all together on his table and took another photo, sending it to Shawn with an outpouring of love and affection along with them. His text back made a smile come across your face that you knew wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.
I love you so very much, honey :) I’m glad they made your day, but you’re not even halfway there ;) Good luck!
#shawn mendes#Shawn Mendes Imagine#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn mendes fluff#boyfriend!shawn#shawn mendes imagines
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