#todd wall

[batfarnily]

Damian to Jason: Damn bitch you live like this?

[ditzybat]

tim with nothing but a mild cold acting like a dying victorian child because his immune system is basically that of one: if i die, wear a superbat t-shirt with a suit and bowtie, tell no one what it means

kon: alright, let's get you back to bed hun

tim: also dump me in an incinerator i don't wanna steal jason's schtick because i don't think the authors will let me die

kon: okay you're just hallucinating now

[methoughtsphantom]

silly headcannon #2 that Bruce never got the reference that Jason always made of himself being short round (he always thought it was Jason saying he was short) until after he died and Tim, avid Indiana Jones fan made Bruce watch the movies with him, only the man breaks out crying., sobbing, full on breaking down over the two second scene that is Indy ruffling Short Round’s hair as he explains they first met when he caught the kid stealing from him, and then took him under his wing.

[aingeal98]

Ultimately the resolution of Jason and Cass fights comes down to the fact that while he has his own ideals that don't mesh with the bats, Jason can be flexible. DC skipped the whole reconciliation with the family but while he's willing to kill it's generally a means to an end to him, not the whole entire point unless you're talking about Joker. Meanwhile for Cass the question of killing vs not killing is dead serious to her which means any time they're working together and things start going off track it's like:

Jason: Look if we kill this guy we send a message to his boss which makes it easier for us to negotiate with him from a position of power and I just think that-

Cass, snatching one of his guns and pointing it at her own head: Go on, pull the trigger. Kill him. Kill me. Go tell Batman that you let his daughter die to make a negotiation easier. He already let you die so no problem right? You think we should die? You think our life only worthwhile as part of a plan, just because we're killers? Are we doomed? Are we rotten to the core with no hope of redemption? Go on then, kill us and kill part of your soul alongside it. You clearly don't care for it so why are you even trying? Kill yourself along with us, come on Jason let's all just die right?

Jason, slowly backing away: I think you may be projecting a tiny bit so just. Calm down before I call the suicide hotline please.

Cass, slowly lowering the gun and knocking the random henchman unconscious: Yeah that's what I thought, fucking pussy.

Jason: Mm yeah you know what I hate you actually. Fuck this mission I'll just shoot you right now if you're going to be this annoying about it.

Jason, explaining things later to Dick: So I just kept shooting at her until I ran out of bullets and we both calmed down enough to call a truce. We tracked the guy down and didn't kill anyone but I did blow up the batplane just as a last minute screw you. Is she always this uh... intense?

Dick: Yeah, one time I broke up with Barbara and she threw me out a window. She's just like that.

[irn-bru]

my genuine reaction watching batman beat the ever loving fuck out of Jason in under the red hood when the only other batfam media I know is wayne family adventures

[fanaticalthings]

Jason being the easiest kid is super funny. Bruce looking at Jason and remembering Dick at 18: “we can work through this. He’ll come around if I don’t give up on.”

Bruce, watching over a freshly street-snatched Jason: Why is he so calm

Having Dick as the rambunctious, feral, and unhinged first child must've given him SO much whiplash once Jason entered the picture. Lil guy just vibed in his own world. Just reading books and doing schoolwork. Baby Jason hurt nobody.

Bruce will just be going over the ground rules of the manor, remembering all the chaos Dick brought upon the household.

Bruce: No swinging from the chandelier.

Jason: ?? I wasn't planning to?

Bruce: No murder.

Jason: What? That never even crossed my mind-

Bruce: And please, for the love of God, don't sneak out and try to beat up the nearest criminal on our block

Jason:

Jason: WHO is responsible for these rules being created??

Bruce will just come home from a long day of work. He's tired and just wants a nice, quiet evening, but he's subconsciously psyching himself up to prepare himself for the chaos he'll witness once he enters the manor

but then Jason's just quietly doing his own thing, maybe even helping Alfred with some chores, reading, or just lounging about in the manor. In general, just causing no trouble and Bruce just turns to Alfred, all worried like, "Is he sick? I don't think children are supposed to behave this way."

[gotham-snark]

Welcome to the wall, Jason. Don't let Damian bully you, you eat your chocolate bar in peace ~

Embroidery based on Juni Ba's amazing Boy Wonder series (issue 3 out on 3rd July, please please please buy it! 💛💛)

Damian Embroidery

Tim Embroidery

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Look props to Brucie “Batman” Wayne for having morals and shit. But Thomas Wayne would have pulled up on joker with Martha and Alfred and beaten him to death for having taken his son away from him.

[ghost-bxrd]

I think we as a fandom need to have more talks about ✨dramatic✨ Jason running his own AO3 blog where he posts increasingly violent and heart wrenching stories about Robin. (The second Robin. Because he’s absolutely self inserting.)

And the Batfam find out about those fic that have a startlingly detailed layout of the batcave and accurate patrol routes that they choose to investigate (by reading the fics, duh) and growing increasingly upset about how the characters are portrayed.

Especially Robin.

[jjenthusee]

Steady Breaths and String Lights

Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: another drabble 😫 i’m really into domestic jason rn so don’t mind me giving yall soft jason content <3 ENJOY and tell me your domestic jason headcanons in the comments if u have any :D

A brand new couch.

It was a deal from a discount furniture store and once you had laid your eyes on it, how could you pass up the deal?

No tears, a good color, the store wanted to get rid of it, so they slapped a large discount tag on it and it came with the decorative pillows. How could you not have it?

One card swipe later, you were the proud owner of this new couch.

The process getting it in your apartment was different. You had no vehicle to haul it, but you managed to convince the company to do one delivery for you.

After your great declaration of strength and independence (and with the help of your neighbors) you moved the couch.

The living room was complete with the new furniture.

You were practically an interior designer.

If Jason wasn’t gone for the week, he would’ve told you that was a stretch, but he had boring taste anyway.

After a good wash and spray, you moved the cushions into place, angling the decorative pillows perfectly and shifting a pristinely folded blanket for a unique touch. It was just like how you saw it in the store.

Then curiosity got the better of you and all the cushions were taken out again, placed at different angles, leaning against one another.

Placing, stabilizing, placing another one.

You grabbed a blanket from your bed, some battery powered string lights, and Jason’s pillow, leaving yours untouched on your side of the bed.

You had made a structurally sound fort, with an organized stack of books, lights hung from edge to edge to give the perfect ambience, comfy blankets and Jason’s pillow that smelled like him.

After admiring your creativity and one final inspection, you crawled into the fort, curling yourself in the safe cocoon.

It was warm and you leaned into his pillow, the scent of his shampoo comforting you until your breaths evened, falling asleep to the excitement of telling Jason about your brand new purchase when he got home.

An hour later, a slight rattle came from the window, cautious steps crawling in, but loudly enough to make a sound to alert whoever was inside.

Jason had got home early and he waited for your head to pop out of some corner.

His armor was heavier on his body that night and he had been away way too long. He just wanted to hear your voice happily welcome him back, passionately hug you, and then crash on the bed holding you near him.

Like routine, he was going to unclip his utility belt and peel off his jacket, but he never heard your voice.

Standing frozen, he kept the protective shiny red helmet on his head until he could physically see you.

There was no movement, no noise.

Jason stood still, pressing his boots into the floorboards as he readied himself. While preventing any sound from his movements, he switched on his infrared scanners, sweeping the entire home before he saw a curled up ball.

In the living room, you were protected by a small cushion fort in front of a couch that magically appeared.

You were sound asleep as his hushed footsteps walked closer to you. He had removed his helmet after he ensured you had a steady heartbeat and even breaths.

He placed his helmet outside the blanket door and removed his boots, placing them neatly next to one another.

He wanted to be a respectful guest in your newly built home.

With bare hands, Jason lifted the flimsy door and there you laid, peacefully drifted off.

Jason exhaled, releasing his previous tension with one glance at you.

He always loved coming home to you.

Carefully, he maneuvered himself through the door. With a surprise, he easily fit. He smiled at the thought that you must have built it with him in mind because the door perfectly fit his shoulders. What an attention to detail.

He crawled in, moving his body by his arms until he was parallel with your face.

Unconsciously, you moved to the new warmth, Rolling your body closer to the new presence.

Jason smiled into your scalp, closing his eyes to the weight of you.

“Sweetheart, I’m home.” Jason whispered, vibrations felt against your cheek.

You incoherently mumbled into his body, barely able to open your mouth.

As you felt the comforting arms rubs and strong arms encircling you, your mind started to slowly wake up. The fog clearing.

You freed one of your hands buried underneath the blanket to match the hands enveloping you.

Then your hand felt a familiar bicep, firm in your palm.

Your eyes shot open as you moved your head out of the crevice of Jason’s neck to see your sleepy vigilante laying next to you.

“Feeling me up in your sleep?” Jason tiredly smirked, teasing you as soon as you woke up.

You slowly blinked before fully registering this wasn’t just another pleasant dream.

It was the real deal in front of you.

“Welcome home.” You softly greeted, kissing his knuckles.

Jason’s body physically relaxed at your words, his smirk morphing into content.

His hands were rough and calloused, but the feeling on your lips have never felt better.

“I got a couch.” You smiled into his hand.

“I see that.” Jason glanced around the inside of the fort. “I got ya something while I was out for the week, but I don’t think I could top a couch.”

“It was nicely decorated before, but I got carried away.” You closed your eyes to nuzzle into Jason’s pillow, holding onto Jason’s hand.

He watched you get comfortable, your silent contentment with his touch and warmth. Loving the skin he hated so damn much.

You yawned, the comfortability of your shared lives relaxing you.

Your hair was a mess from the nap, your lashes laid on your skin, and his hands rubbing at any inch of your face, memorizing every detail he could so even his dreams could also have you.

“No, it’s perfect.” Jason watched you, leaning in to kiss your temple, lips lingering a second longer.

You smiled, feeling complete that your other half was home.

“I’m glad.” You slurred, letting sleep inch closer and closer to you.

The two of you lost to the night, your sleeping forms intertwined and Jason’s legs sticking out of the fort.

And a brand new couch that joined your shared life.

[martiniluvr]

“maybe I saved you in another universe.”

[oraclenthusiast]

batfamily fans pretend that they like complex parent-child relationships until the parent isn't bruce wayne. and the complexity isn't very easily resolved communication issues

[p1nkshield]

Saw a post about the juxtaposition between “disaster boy™️” Richard Grayson and “just a little guy™️” Jason Todd while in “I’m a new mom and I don’t know what I’m doing™️” Brucie’s care and had to add to the conversation

The Richard parenting experience

Bruce: What a nice quiet evening.

Somewhere in the manor: *boom* *crash* *the distinct sound of something very expensive breaking*

Bruce, running full tilt to the source of the noise thinking the manner has been compromised: Is everything okay?!? What’s going-

Robin!Dick, on the floor next to a broken chandelier, a smashed heirloom and a shattered wardrobe: uhhh…Oops?

The Jason parenting experience

Bruce: what a nice quiet evening… too quiet.

Bruce sprints to where his son was last: Jason?

Robin!jason: yes?

Bruce: *oh he’s still there!* what are you doing?

Robin!jason: …reading

Bruce: …oh

Robin!jason: that’s allowed right?

Bruce: yes that’s fine.

[webshood]

I know that everyone kinda agrees that Jason is a bit punk, however I think he should be goth like his mom

[aalghul]

I miss how pre-flashpoint Jason used to flip around and actually showed off his robin training

[wh1sp3rr]

hate sex with arkham knight!jason

ೀ masterlist ೀ requests ೀ

he’s so mean and mocking, has you pinned to the wall, hand shackling your neck, your head getting fuzzy and your vision going blue.

feels like ur on a drug, chasing that high more and more with each thrust he gives you. he’s got this sexy half-smile half-smirk thing going on, and he’s sweating so much, it slicks his hair back and makes his curls wet with it’s salty sheen: sharp glisten as they bounce up and down every time he moves.

you can barely get a word out, feel the sentence bubble up in your throat for what feels like hours before you finally manage to hear it vocalise and ring in your ears, each word cut off by a hiccup and jason’s still so cocky and mean but also tender, wipes the corners of your eyes, likes to see the mascara smear on your face and his thumb, before cradling your face and shutting you up with a kiss. lips soon swollen and eyes wanton.

“you talk too much.” he’d simply say to ur desperately and pathetically feeble attempt at dismissing the eye rolling feeling of his dick so deep inside fucking you so good rn.

before you manage to say anything he shushes you and puts a hand over your mouth, “thereee. that’s betterrr.” he’d coo, feeling you drool from the inside of his palm.

“fuckin’ horny bitch. didn’t realise you wanted to be fucked this bad.”

he kisses your cheek. barely sucks the flesh when he lets go. “jesus fucking christ. god, look at what you’re doing to me—fuck.”

his forehead leans against yours, his voice now quiet and whispery, sounds almost like a whistle, “wish you’d said something earlier. telling me i could’ve fucked you months ago?”

you give in, eyebrows crease and u nod your head with a muffled cry. he laughs, mimics your nod and says through a broken chuckle, “yeah? i could’ve? tell me i could’ve, baby. tell me i fucking could’ve.” he removes his hand. waits for your response, though his hips don’t stop.

he gets impatient, watches at how you look down shamefully, slaps your face a little to get you to look at him, “come on.”

miserably and moaning you bite your lip—a sort of nervous panic and tell him what he wants to hear, “you could’ve fucked me forever ago. anytime you wanted.”

he gets so hard. like, way harder than he already is and he connects your lips again, both pleased and amused then compliments you so sincerely, almost to himself, “so fucking fine.”

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