#so excited to finally share my jason thoughts with them hehe

[danothan]

hi i’d like to deconstruct one of the jason todd songs ever (ft. the bipolar jason agenda)

“It's fucking sad that we need a tragedy to occur to gain a fresh perspective in our lives. Nothing happens for a reason, there's no point even pretending, you know the sad truth as well as I.”

jason’s death had no purpose. he wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t a martyr, it was a pointless death in a long line of many. the tragedy of it was that it didn’t have to happen, and that’s why he blames batman for not killing the joker. it wasn’t his dying that he was upset abt, it’s that batman let the joker continue that long line of death

“Oh god, the morning light sun rays bring my paranoia. I can't function unless I'm the only one awake.”

jason works alone, puts himself at a distance. this line frames it less as a choice tho, as if it’s other ppl that are unpredictable factors, as if he’s unable to put his trust in ppl again

“Rancor of our last conversation, that forbidden word you deform to handicap me, then abuse your advantage.”

the forbidden word here is probably “love.” bruce’s problem is that he isn’t much of a talker, he doesn’t express his love in a way that jason needs. the incongruence between his actions and his words “handicaps” jason, puts him at a disadvantage as he reaches out for bruce’s approval. it speaks volumes that the narrator doesn’t say “the forbidden word” either

“Because your eyes are an agent of darkness. There's nothing to fight. It's just a bit of fait accompli.”

going off from that last line, talking to bruce is like talking to a wall. jason sees nothing left in bruce’s eyes; to him, there is no more grief or hope. the “fait accompli” is that bruce has moved on, but even beyond that, it’s jason’s death as a whole. there’s no option left but to accept that everything has changed

“I spend my waking hours haunting my life. I made the one I love start crying tonight, and it felt good. Still there must be a more elegant solution. Lately I'm rotted in the filth of self-offered agonies that really should fill me with shame, but all I have is this manic energy.”

tbh i don’t rly have anything to add here, i just love the death imagery of ghosts and rot, as well as the mania and self-sabotage of it all. very jasoncore

“I lost my page in being the black stamped disciple in your heart collage. Just want to celebrate me. Need to suffer more.”

robin status revoked! he knows he had his flaws, but he was devoted not only to batman but also to bruce. it’s a mix of feeling like he wasn’t enough as well as doing all that he could. at the emotional core of jason’s motives, he wants to be understood and appreciated. his suffering is a fruitless search for closure, smth he puts himself thru bc he thinks he deserves it. he suffers to make up for himself

“Face our puerility. Converts officiate. Divides new stratagems to disembowel our quotidien characters.”

good lord listening to any of montreal song forces you to pull out the dictionary. i Think what this line is saying is that they have to face their pasts to learn and destroy who they know themselves to be, and only then can they move on. jason saying this to bruce doubles as a taunt: “i’m not the kid you remember anymore.”

“I know I'm upside down about you. Your kindness feels like blasphemy or some sick education on the limits of humanity, so I profane the laws of some Victorian garbage.”

jason and batman have the same goals: they want what’s best for gotham. he feels “upside down” abt bruce bc they were in it together as batman and robin, he taught him everything he knew. but the closer the goals, the bigger the differences feel. that’s why it feels especially blasphemous that batman’s no-kill rule is for the sake of humanity. jason views bruce’s sense of justice as smth sick, ineffective, old-school. it’s “victorian garbage.” his so-called mercy is what got jason killed

to be clear, this is all in jason’s pov. i don’t think he’s as spiteful or cruel as this song makes him out to be, but i think it carries the kind of self-deprecation that he Does view himself thru. and the bitterness definitely reflects his emotions, as well as the back-and-forth between his smug call-outs vs desperate attempts at closure/vindication. i would even say they’re one and the same

tldr; jason todd is bipolar, of montreal diagnosed him

[ellana-ravenwood]

Right after a stand off, and Superman finally learning Batman’s real identity :

It was bound to happen. It was getting ridiculous and too long now. It was bound to happen. And it did. This was it now, Clark knew that Bruce was the bat. The last wall standing in between their friendship was finally down (this was how Clark saw it, and he knew Bruce would find it cheesy and roll his eyes a lot of he knew, but this was also rather true). And Batman, showing good faith (ya know how Clark got kinda sour for the longest time that Bruce knew who he really was long before the opposite was true ? That he thought they were friends yet...? Oh, and the “contingency plans” ? Haha) invites Superman to his batcave. Big step. And the man of steel knows this. He knows Batman gave his trust like this to only a handful of people.

Clark is looking around, kinda dumbfounded a guy like Batman has a dinosaur and a giant penny in his damn hide out. It’s just so extra ya know ? This entire Batcave is so extra. There’s memorabilia of so many of Batman’s cases (not that Clark is a fanboy and knows about those cases, you know, he’s just a journalist, he stays up to date with um...the worlds’ current events). Or other objects that seems much more personal. He can see a Robin’s costume right in the middle of the cave, one he knows belong to the second Robin, Batman’s late sidekick (and beloved son), or a few framed cinema tickets reading “Mark of Zorro” on it, near the Batcomputer...  

He approaches a shelf full of hard drives, with dates and letters written on them. He takes one which has : “12/24/09 - 07/30/10 - D & J” written on it. He has absolutely no idea what it means. So far, he had been able to explain most of what he saw (and the few things he didn’t, well, let’s just say he didn’t really want an explanation), but those hard drives ? Absolutely no clue. It was rather intriguing, too. Clark always thought the Batman, such a paranoid person, would keep all of his files safely locked away, encrypted, unaccessible etc etc...not on a hard drive standing on a shelf in plain sight like that. Not that a lot of people come down to the batcave, but still. So, out of pure candid curiosity, he asks : 

Clark : “Hey, what are those ? Records of old cases of yours ? Maybe some ongoing ones ?” 

Bruce : “Pictures. And a few videos.” 

Clark : “Pictures of...?”

Bruce : “Of my children.” 

Clark : “Of your...What ?!” 

Clark looks back at those shelf FULL OF HARD DRIVES. Turns back to Bruce and lets out a nervous chuckle. Is the Batman messing with him ? Is he joking ?? Clark never saw him joke before, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do, how he’s supposed to react. And so he just awkwardly smiles, waiting for Bruce to do something. The Bat walks towards him, takes the hard drive he’s holding out of his hand, and says : 

Bruce : “This is between Christmas of 2009 and Summer of 2010, and has pictures of -he shows the letters- Dick and Jason.” 

Oh God. Was he not joking ? Are those really pictures of his...children ? This was giving an entire different image of Batman that Clark never would have thought possible. This was making him...Wow. 

The mighty Superman wasn’t sure how to react. This came as a rather big shock. The day before he didn’t even know that Bruce Wayne was Batman, and now not only did he discovered that fact, but also that said Batman maybe wasn’t as cold, harsh, distant and broody as he thought he was... 

Because he had at least twenty high capacity hard drives full of pictures and videos of his kids. Because as he put back the one that Clark took out, he had the softest expression on his face. One that Clark wasn’t even sure he realized he arbored. 

It was the first time Clark saw Batman without a scowl. Saw him with...with...

Clark : “Can I see some of them ?” 

Superman heard himself ask. And after a brief hesitation, Bruce shrugged and nodded (secretly super happy and kinda excited to show his kids, and ready to brag about them). After all now, Clark knew. He knew his name, he probably figured out his children were all the little “side kicks” he met over the years. 

He knew who he really was. 

Of course, the Batman had no ways to know that Clark discovered much more than his secret identity. No. 

He knew who he really was. 

All thanks to hard drives full of family pictures...

________________________________________________

I don’t know what this is, I was thinking about that and the thought wouldn’t leave my head up until I wrote it down in a few quick minutes. Thought I might as well share hehe. This isn’t to take too seriously by the way, I’m just real soft for Dad!Bruce, and for a NOT-ONE-DIMENSIONAL-BRUTE!Bruce. 

Also, I caught up to current canon stories so um...you know hahahahahahah. Oh God. Anyway. Here. 

[ironmansuuucks]

Hello! uh is it alright if I requested a lil something something?? um! The reader coming home really really drunk after a girls night out and they basically can’t function properly, so Dewey helps take off makeup and clothes and what not and getting them ready for bed??? If you don’t want to write it or is overwhelmed by asks, I completely understand dude, no pressure I just really love your writing a lot xxx

this was one of my favourite requests oh my gosh...

dewey finn x reader

Thank you for this lovely request and for your beautiful words💜 I wasn’t loving this one until I wrote the ending and it pulled it all together hehe and now I love it and i hope you do to @large-unit 💜💜

As always, @thewolfisapartofmysoul always amazes me with her beautiful aesthetics, thank u so much for this one my angel💜

As usual, Friday nights out with the girls had been messy. This Friday had been messier than normal, and you knew your limits, but tonight you well and truly exceeded them. Normally you attempted to try and stick to one drink, be it wine or vodka, or rum, but tonight you thought you were clever and decided to mix everything. “Rookie mistake” you could practically hear Dewey’s condescending voice.

You tried to be as quiet as possible when you opened the door to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, Dewey Finn. Your sweet sweet Dewey Finn. In your drunken state you were mumbling to yourself “shh-hh, gotta be quiet shhh”. But your actions rejected these mutterings.

The door seemed to be louder than ever as you closed it, your hand bag hitting the tiled floor with a bang. “shhhh” you told it, holding your finger up to your mouth looking down at the door, then the bag.

Your mind was in a frenzy, with the world spinning faster than normal, your legs giving way as you slumped against the door.

“baby, is that you?” Dewey called from the living room, a little concerned. Dewey would never sleep until you were home when you went out. He was too worried about you and kept his phone next to him all night in case his girl needed him.

He wandered out into the kitchen to see if it was you. “babe?” he turned the corner and seen you sitting on the floor, leaning against he door. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at your punch-drunk and dazed being.

“shh-hh, Dewey’s slee-ping” you shushed him, your eyes closed and head against he door.

“well, someone’s had too much to drink.. again…” he plodded over to you snickering, plopping himself on the floor in front of your feet.

Dewey began to unlace your doc martens, but you pulled back before he could. “hey! I-I have a-a boyfriend” you slurred, pointing your finger, warning him.

“no shit” Dewey snorted, a smile brushed his lips as he grabbed your foot and held it tighter, managing to undo your laces.

You peeled open your eyes and frantically moved your sweaty hair out of your face, lighting up when you notice Dewey sitting in front of you, fighting with your boots. A smile quickly spread across your face as you flung your arms out “baaaa-aaabe! You’re here!” you bellowed, excited to see your boyfriend and his cute messy, tired face and hair.

“yeah I most certainly am.. now how did you get home this time my angel?” Dewey’s protective boyfriend side always came out when you stumbled through the door yourself, worried you had been left to walk home alone.

You twisted your mouth to the side, looking up for inspiration, confused. Everything was a bit fuzzy. Well, really fuzzy.

“uuuuuuh…..” you tried your best to remember.

Dewey pulled your first boot off and quickly got to work on the second. He sat with his legs open, at either side of your leg and pulled your foot towards him a little, making you slide along the floor, and down the door a bit. He briefly looked up at you trying to remember and smirked, before looking back down at your triple noted laces.

“was it maybe.. a car… maybe with Stacey… and Aimee?” he quizzed, eager to find out to settle his mind.

You knitted your eyebrows for a second before slightly remembering singing Galway Girl on the ride home with your friends. “oh! Yesyesyesyeys we were sing-ing uhhh Galloway Guy or something…”

Dewey nodded his head knowingly, “so it was Jason that picked you up... that’s fine.” Jason was Aimee’s boyfriend, and the one that normally picked you guys up on Fridays. It tended to alternate between Jason and Dewey.

After pulling off your second boot and tossing them to the side, Dewey pulled himself up, shaking his head and sniggering at the state you were in. Your hair was everywhere, one of your eyelashes was pretty much hanging off, not to mention the slight smudge of your lip gloss. His eyes wandered down and noticed the stain that tainted your red body suit. You had pretty much spilled an entire VBL down yourself and almost had a fight with the guy who knocked you and made you spill it.

He stood over you and grabbed your hands to pull you up.

“C’mon you..” he tried to pull but you resisted and slid further down the door. “nooooo” you whined, throwing your head back. Dewey rolled his eyes playfully, sighing at you. He pulled your arms up, but you went limp and let your head flop backwards. “leave me he-re I’m too tiiirreeed” you moaned.

“y/n, come on… you’re gonna hurt yourself!”. You pulled against him in protest “just leave me heeeerre”.

Eventually Dewey just picked you up, ignoring your drunken protests, and carried you to your bedroom, sitting you on the edge of the bed. He pointed his finger at you as you swayed a little, eyes half-lidded, smiling up at him.

“stay” he warned, smirking at you. He was trying not to laugh too much, because he knew that if he laughed and provoked you then he would have no hope in hell at settling you down for sleep.

You pointed your finger back at him, narrowing your eyes, still slightly swaying. “or what?”. You smirked.

Dewey turned around and searched for the baby wipes in the dimly lit bedroom. “you don’t… wanna find out…” he joked.

Dewey came and sat on the bed next to you, his hands finding your face and turning it to look at him softly. He smiled at your features. Your tired eyes and slumped form. He wouldn’t change any of this for the world.

“look at that face…” he squeezed your cheeks lightly, making you giggle. “I can tell you who won’t be laughing in the morning…” he raised one of his eyebrows, suppressing a laugh, knowing how moody you were gonna be in a matter of hours.

You continued to look at him in awe, he was the most beautiful man in the world to you. His sleepy eyes, and flushed face making you fall in love all over again. Dewey looked into your sparkling eyes and blushed a little at the way you looked at him. He kissed you quickly on your lips before taking a make up wipe out of the pack.

“first things first… lets get these contraptions off your beautiful face…” he gently took off your fake eyelashes one by one, setting them on your nightstand, knowing you would wear them again. He was so thoughtful, how did you get so lucky?

“mmmm I love you…” you hummed, leaning into kiss him, but you just fell against him instead. Dewey grinned, and shook his head, “ohhhh I can’t wait to see you in the morning”. “you- you’re just so beautiful” you continued humming into his chest. “and so cosy.. and you smell like cinnamon…” you trailed off as you started to slip into sleep.

Dewey put his hands under your arms and lifted you up. “make up and pyjamas and then you can sleep my darling”. You simply hummed in response, your eyes closed, slowly drifting.

Dewey ran the baby wipe across your face a few times, getting off as much as he could before he stood you up and started to get you undressed. All he could smell was whatever you had been drinking. H couldn’t quite put his finger on what the aroma was. “y/n what the hell were you drinking?” he muttered, unbuttoning your skirt.

“mmm lil bit of everything darling” you nonchalantly replied.

Dewey raised his eyebrows, his mouth moving to a shocked pose and looked up at you; he was crouching down, attempting to unbutton your body suit.

“uh, oh.. rookie mistake” he smirked. You simply rolled your eyes.

“im fi-“ you brought your hand up to your mouth, vomit threatening to spill. Dewey flinched a little. “if you’re gonna be sick you gotta tell me.”

You breathed in through your nose deeply and swallowed. “I’m- I’m fine.”

Finally he unbuttoned your body suit and started to lift it above your head. He had seen you like this too many times, nothing phased him anymore.

“Dewey Finn… don’t ya think you should take me to dinner first?” you flirted a little.

“oh ha ha, I’ve never heard that one before… only every freaking Friday night” he snorted.

As usual, Dewey already had your pyjamas sitting on your bed, waiting for you coming home, and he’d set up some pain killers and water on the bed side table just before you got home.

Eventually, he managed to get you pyjamas on and he had grabbed a bobble to tie your hair up. As he was softly pulling your hair into a low pony tail you sighed.. on the verge of tears.

“why am I such a mess” you sobbed a little.

Dewey shook his head and smiled, you always got like this at the end of the night; a little bit weepy and feeling sorry for yourself. You were fine really, just drunk.

“you’re not a mess baby.. you’re… a spicy disaster” he chuckled to himself. As he pulled back the bed sheets for you. You sobbed harder “why are you so mean to me”.

You got into bed, stepping over the bucket placed at your feet in case you woke up needing to puke.

Dewey continued to laugh under his breath, smirking. “I’m sorry my love…” he turned off the side light and climbed into bed next to you.

“I’m sorry, I’ll take you to McDonald’s tomorrow for chicken nuggets to make up for it… deal?” he scooted over to you, pulling you into him.

“mmm deal… I love chicken nuggets…” you managed before you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

“yeah I know you do..” he wiped the stray hairs from your face as he kissed your forehead.

“and I love you.. my spicy little chicken nugget”.

tags: @thewolfisapartofmysoul @paxenera​ @heknowshisherbs​ @missihart23​ @geminiacally​ @go-commander-kim​ @gegehaddock​ @baby-beej​ @sadpuppetshows​ @hoodoo12​ @large-unit​ @thats-specific​ @vicunaburger​ @stranger-strings​ @bugdrinkss​ @ssheinaa​ @demonwifey​ @beetle-herbs​