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hii! i wasn’t sure if your requests were open so just ignore this if they aren’t!
i was wondering if you could write a one shot of logan howlett with a teen reader somewhat like the scene with rouge and him in the first xmen movie? but it’s kind of like him and the reader are going on a “roadtrip” and stopping at motels, gas stations, sleeping in the truck and simply talking with each other in the car? (bonus points for the usage of the nickname cub : ]) i’m a sucker for domestic prompts with father figures.. i hope you have a lovely day ❤️🩹
father figure! logan howlett and late night diner stops !!
The old truck's engine ticked as it cooled, a familiar, comforting rhythm in the vast silence of the night. The world outside was a smudge of inky black and the occasional, distant glitter of a star, the mountains they’d finally crossed just a darker shape against the sky. Inside the cabin, the only light came from the dim glow of the dashboard, casting long, soft shadows across the worn seats and the clutter of a life lived on the road.
Logan sat in the driver’s seat, one arm resting on the open window frame, a cigarillo burning forgotten between his fingers. He’d been still for a long time, just watching the road behind him in the rearview mirror, a habit born of a lifetime of looking over his shoulder. But his focus wasn't on the empty asphalt. It was on the soft, even breaths coming from the bed in the back of the truck.
He turned his head, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. You were curled up on the small mattress, a tangled mess of a worn-out quilt and one of his flannel shirts, which you’d claimed as your own long ago. Your face was half-buried in the pillow, your features slack and peaceful in a way that always made something tight in his chest loosen. Your hair was a wild halo around your head, and your hand was curled loosely under your cheek, the picture of pure, innocent exhaustion.
He’d pushed too hard today. He knew it. The mountain pass had been a treacherous stretch of road with no cell service and no rest stops for hours. He’d wanted to get you out of the mountains before nightfall, away from the isolation that always felt a little too much like a trap, a place where old ghosts could catch up to him. But he’d miscalculated, and now it was well past one in the morning, and you hadn't eaten since a gas station nearing the eight hour mark ago.
A low, barely perceptible grumble escaped his throat, a sound of self-recrimination. He was supposed to be better than this. He was supposed to take care of you, not run you ragged. He could go days without eating, but you were a growing kid. He stubbed out the cigarillo, the brief flash of orange illuminating his gruff, weary face.
He got out of the truck as quietly as he could, the door giving a soft, well-oiled click. He walked around to the back, his boots landing silently on the asphalt. He reached for the sliding door, pausing for a moment. He didn't want to startle you. You'd been through enough. You’d had enough fear in your life before he found you, a scared, powerful kid hiding in the shadows of a world that had rejected you.
“Hey, cub.” he said, his voice a low, rumbling bass that was softer than velvet. It was the voice he reserved only for you, a stark contrast to the gruff snarl he used with everyone else. “Time to wake up.”
There was no response. You were dead to the world.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of his lips. He gently placed a large, calloused hand on your shoulder, his touch impossibly light. “Come on, now.” he murmured, giving you a tiny, gentle shake. “Rise and shine, sleepin' beauty.”
You stirred, a soft, sleepy sound escaping your lips. You burrowed deeper into the pillow, trying to escape the intrusion of consciousness. Logan huffed out a quiet, fond laugh. “I know, I know. But we’re stopped. There’s a diner. What d'you say we get some real food in you, mn?”
The word ‘food’ seemed to penetrate the fog of sleep. You slowly, reluctantly, uncurled from your cocoon of blankets, a messy mop of hair and sleep-soft skin emerging. You blinked, your eyes unfocused and heavy-lidded. A huge yawn stretched your face, and you rubbed at your eyes with the back of your hand, a gesture so childlike and endearing it made Logan’s chest ache.
“Logan?” you mumbled, your voice thick and scratchy with sleep. “Wha’ time s'it?”
“Late.” he said simply, his hand moving from your shoulder to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “Or early. Depends on how you look at it. Come on, you need to eat.”
He stepped back, giving you room to maneuver, but kept his hand extended. You took it, your small, warm hand lost in his. He helped you out of the truck, and you stumbled a little on the step, still half-asleep. He caught you easily, a steadying hand on your arm. “Whoa, there.” he rumbled, his voice a low vibration you could feel as much as hear. “I gotcha.”
You leaned into him for a moment, your head resting against his arm as you fought off the last vestiges of sleep. He smelled of leather, cigar smoke, and the crisp night air. It was the smell of home.
He guided you gently toward the diner, a small, neon-lit beacon in the middle of the vast, dark night. The sign flickered, promising “24 HOUR SERVICE” and “FAMOUS PIE.” The windows were steamed up, and the warm orange glow inside promised a welcome respite from the cold mountain air.
A little bell jingled as he pushed open the door, and a wave of warm, greasy air washed over you. The diner was half-empty, a sanctuary for weary travelers. A couple of truckers were hunched over coffee at the counter, and a small family with a sleeping baby was tucked into a corner booth. Everyone spoke in hushed, tired tones, their voices a comforting, low murmur. It was a place that understood long roads and late nights. It was perfect.
Logan steered you toward a booth near the back, sliding you in first before taking the seat across from you. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it on the seat beside him, revealing the simple flannel shirt underneath. A waitress with tired, kind eyes and a name tag that read ‘Betty’ shuffled over, two menus in her hand.
“What can I get you two, hon?” she asked, her voice soft as she put the menus on the table.
“Just a coffee for me, please.” Logan said, his own voice a low, polite growl. He looked at you, and his expression softened. “And a burger n'fries with a chocolate milkshake for the little lady here.”
Your sleepiness evaporated a little, replaced by a small, drowsy smile. “I get a milkshake?”
“Yeah,” he grunted, shrugging a little. “Figured you earned it. Sorry I kept you up so late.”
He didn't say it, but you knew it was his way of apologizing. You just nodded, your smile growing a little wider. The tiredness was still there, a pleasant weight in your limbs, but the space around you felt cozy and safe.
Betty brought the coffees and a tall, frosty glass of chocolate milkshake, complete with a mountain of whipped cream and a cherry on top. You wrapped your hands around the cold glass, the chill a pleasant shock after the sleepy warmth of the truck. You took a long sip, and the rich, sweet flavor melted on your tongue. You sighed in contentment.
Logan watched you, taking a sip of his own black coffee. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable. It was companionable, a quiet language of its own. He reached over and snagged a single fry from your basket of the food you’d both ordered, a simple plate of burger and fries. You didn’t mind. He always did.
He watched the lights of a passing semi illuminate the diner’s windows. “The pass was a lot longer than I remember.” he said finally, the explanation soft.
You were still half-asleep, your head lolling a little as you chewed, but you understood. You nodded. “’S okay,” you murmured. “I like sleeping in the truck.”
A warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the coffee. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.” you hummed, taking another bite. “The engine puts me to sleep.”
He let out a soft snort of amusement. He’d never thought of it that way. To him, it was mainly just an annoyance when it was time to sleep, a beast he had to keep running if he wanted warmth in winter or cold in summer. “Well, it’s gonna keep on humming for a while yet,” he said, his voice dropping even lower, a rumbling promise just for you. “We don’t have anywhere to be, do we?”
You shook your head, a strand of hair falling across your face.
He reached over and tucked it behind your ear. His thumb grazed your cheek for a moment, a touch so quick and light you almost didn’t feel it. “Good,” he said. “We got time.”
The quiet murmur of the diner filled the space around you, a blanket of hushed voices. Logan didn’t say much, he never did. But he sat with you, his gaze occasionally drifting to you, a silent sentinel. He watched the way your eyelids drooped after every other bite, how you were fighting a losing battle against sleep.
“Alright, that’s it, baby.” he said, gently taking the burger from your hand and setting it on the plate. “You’re done.”
“But Logan..” you protested weakly.
“But nothing. You’re gonna fall asleep into your food.” he rumbled, a hint of a chuckle on his voice. He pulled out his wallet and tossed a few bills on the table, more than enough to cover the meal. He slid out of the booth and came to your side, offering you his hand again. “Come on, pup. Let’s get you back to bed.”
You took his hand, your small fingers wrapping around his. The world tilted slightly as you stood, and you leaned into his solid frame. He put an arm around you, his hold secure and protective. He paid no attention to the couple of glances they got. He was used to it.
Betty smiled at them from the counter as they passed. “You two take care now.” she said, her voice soft.
Logan gave her a single, curt nod. “We will.”
He guided you back outside. The night air was crisp and clean, and the stars seemed brighter now, away from the diner’s lights. He opened the passenger door of the truck. “Get in,” he said. “You can go back to sleep now.”
You climbed up into the truck, taking the bed once again, and he leaned in, grabbing the worn-out quilt from the back and draping it over you. You snuggled into it, the scent of him and the truck surrounding you. You were asleep before he even got behind the wheel.
Logan got into the driver's seat, the door closing with a soft thud. He didn't start the engine right away. He just sat there for a long moment, looking back at you, his expression softening into something so tender and unprotected, it seemed almost foreign on his rugged face.
He reached between the space of the seats, his big hand gently patting your head one last time, a silent promise of protection and belonging.
“Sleep well, sweetheart.” he whispered, the words barely audible, lost to the hum of the quiet night.
FaceTime! featuring Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake
Sum: Just some fluffy FaceTime moments with the batboys.
Warnings: Mild swearing in Jason's, fem! reader. mdni.
𑣲. Dick Grayson ᯓᡣ𐭩
"Are you on top of a building?" You ask, leaning closer to the screen as if that will somehow help you see past Dick's face and the glowing stretch of Blüdhaven behind him. He looks unfairly good for someone halfway through patrol - black hair windblown across his forehead and the domino mask hiding those blue eyes.
"Yeah, so, like - hold on." He flips the camera around and immediately starts walking, boots scraping lightly over concrete while the screen swings between buildings.
"You live there," he says, pointing down toward one apartment tower, and then turns toward another. "And there's my place. Wait - " The camera flips back to him, his masked eyes narrowing slightly as he thinks. "Have I seriously never taken you up here before?"
"Must've been one of your other girlfriends," you tease, sinking deeper into your chair as you tug the sleeves of his sweatshirt farther over your hands.
Dick's smile drops so fast you nearly laugh. "My other girlfriends?" He plants one gloved hand against his chest like you've wounded him. "Wow. Okay. That's crazy, actually." You can hear the grin coming back into his voice before you even see it, bright and dazzling. "I have one girlfriend. One. She's mean to me, actually. Borderline abusive. Steals my clothes, teases me, a real mean lady"
"I am NOT mean, Grayson. This has been my hoodie for like ever."
"It says Gotham University. Pretty sure," he drawls out loudly, ever teasingly, "you didn't go there, baby. I would've never missed someone as gorgeous as you."
You laugh before taking a sip of your water, and Dick laughs with you, the sound softening when he drops down onto the ledge of the building. He sits as if gravity has never particularly applied to him, one leg dangling over the side while the other bends beneath him, phone balanced casually against his knee. For a little while, neither of you says much. You answer an email and fix the cuff of his sweatshirt where it's starting to fray. Dick watches the city below, shoulders finally relaxing now that patrol has slowed down. Every so often he looks back at the screen just to make sure you're still there, and when you catch him doing it for the third time, he doesn't even pretend otherwise.
"What?"
"Nothin'." His mouth curves into that softer smile he saves for you, chin resting against his fist. "You look cute. I miss you." There's a pout at the end of that. He's almost hinting to come over afterwards to steal your entire morning.
You roll your eyes and take another sip.
"You can come over later."
"I was already planning on it." He grins before putting in his earbuds. "How about I bring breakfast?"
✩ Jason Todd ᯓ★
Jason Todd has never played Stardew Valley in his life, yet somehow he has become deeply invested in your little playthrough. You've got Discord open on your laptop while your phone sits propped on your desk, giving you an excellent view of him midway through a workout.
Shirtless, broad shoulders and old scars shifting every time he moves, the white streak at the front of his hair damp with sweat and falling into his eyes. "So you gotta greet every chicken every day?" he asks from the floor, forearms planted against his mat while he holds a plank.
"Yes." You continue to clack away, occasionally showing him the coop.
"Sounds needy, like you. You need me to check on you every day"
You glance over and catch him looking at the phone instead of the floor. Specifically watching to see whether you're looking at him. A bead of sweat runs down his chest, and Jason's grin only grows more when your eyes linger half a second too long.
You immediately turn back to your laptop.
Cocky asshole.
"Well, this one's named after you." You circle your character around a fat brown chicken wandering through the grass, and Jason's attention snaps over immediately, squinting at the screen.
"Which one?"
"This one."
He cranes his neck toward the screen without breaking his plank. "Yeah."
You stare at him. "Yeah?"
"Handsome little guy." His timer goes off and Jason drops flat onto the mat with a grunt, cheek pressed to his forearm for a second before rolling onto his back. His chest rises and falls while he reaches blindly for his water bottle, takes a long drink, then wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. "How long've you had me?"
"The chicken?"
Jason lifts his head and gives you a look. "Careful."
You grin a little, biting your lip before looking away. "Like two in-game years."
"So we're serious."
He pushes himself back up and slings a towel around his neck while you move onto the next creature in your coop. "And this one's Grayson-"
Jason's brow furrows "Why's he blue?"
"Because he's a blue chicken?"
His face suddenly fills half your FaceTime screen, green eyes flicking between you and the game while one hand braces against his hip. "Yeah, but those are the rare ones."
There's a pause, and you slowly turn toward your phone. Jason realizes his mistake approximately one second too late.
"How'd you know those are rare?"
He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek to break the smile forming on his face before looking down at you.
"Answer my question first."
You immediately start laughing.
"Nah, don't laugh." Jason points accusingly at the laptop. "Why's Dick special?"
"He's just blue!"
"And I'm brown."
"Jason. Wait - I can explain - "
"Regular-ass chicken." He announces loudly. You can hear a small giggle from Steph in the background.
"Damian is the dinosaur! I just pick what makes sense."
That shuts him up for all of two seconds. Then Jason's brows shoot up. "Okay, that's bullshit. I should be the fucking dinosaur, and you know it."
You're laughing hard enough that your character starts running useless circles around the coop. Jason finally cracks too, shaking his head as he grabs his phone and carries you through the manor toward the kitchen.
"Alright, what'd you make Tim?" he asks, pulling open the fridge. You go suspiciously quiet. Jason pauses with one hand still on the door. You cover your mouth.
His eyes narrow. "You made Replacement a rabbit?"
You immediately start laughing again.
"Of course you did." He snorts, digging through the fridge. "Lemme guess. Steph's a duck? Loud as hell too, always yappin'. Yap, yap, yap."
"You can't say things like that!"
"What?" He waves a hand around the kitchen, completely unbothered. "Tell me I'm wrong."
He props your phone against the fruit bowl and starts pulling leftovers from the fridge, still complaining while he works. He's stirring something on the stove while giving you increasingly unsolicited farm advice from YouTube videos he's been watching.
"Have you been Googling this?"
"No. And you tell nobody about this." He takes a bite straight from the pan and points the spoon at you. "Eat your dinner."
A week later, you get a notification from Steam that Jason Todd has purchased Stardew Valley. Two weeks after that, there's a dinosaur wandering around your shared coop named Jason.
The first time you mention it, he threatens to sell the void chicken he named after you.
۶ৎ Tim Drake :꣓
Tim almost always calls you through Discord because Discord is practical. He can share whatever nightmare of a spreadsheet he's working on, you can stream your screen, and neither of you has to hold a phone for four hours straight. FaceTime is different. FaceTime usually happens when you're in bed and Tim is still very much refusing to be.
"Should I mute myself?" he asks, glancing down toward where his phone is propped against a stack of case files beside his laptop. He's hunched over his desk in an old Gotham Knights shirt, dark hair hanging over his eyes until he pushes it back with one hand. The shadows beneath them look almost bruised in the bluish light from his monitors, and there are at least two empty coffee mugs within arm's reach.
You can barely keep your eyes open anymore, cheek mashed into your pillow. "Why?"
"My keyboard." Tim types another line, pauses, then looks back at you. "It's probably loud."
You listen to the rapid click-click-click coming through the speaker. "No."
"Okay."
And that's apparently all he needed.
For another twenty minutes, the two of you barely talk. You watch him through the phone, eyes already half-lidded with sleep while Tim works through case notes, shoulders curling tighter whenever he gets particularly focused. Papers shift. His chair rolls backward. Every few minutes he mutters something under his breath, deletes an entire paragraph, then starts typing again. You're somewhere between awake and asleep when your phone slips sideways against the pillow.
Tim notices immediately. "Hey."
You blink. "What?"
"Can't see you."
You stare at him with a deep sigh and fumble around until the phone is upright again. "There."
"Thanks."
And then he goes straight back to work as though that wasn't deeply pathetic. You watch him for another second. "You got something for watching people?"
"Mhm... mostly for watching you, though."
Your eyes start drifting shut again, and Tim continues typing until he catches you rubbing your face into the pillow. "You tired?"
"No." Your eyes betray you by closing.
"You sure look tired. Want me to come tuck you in?"
"Shut up."
He smiles without looking away from his screen and reaches for one of the coffee mugs. Your eyes open immediately at the scrape of ceramic against his desk.
"Absolutely not."
Tim freezes with the rim halfway to his mouth. "What?"
"Put it down."
"It's coffee."
"It's almost two in the morning. We have a nine a.m. lecture together."
Tim looks from you to the mug, weighs his options, and then very intentionally takes one loud sip.
"Timothy."
"Don't government-name me."
You groan and roll onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand while the other reaches toward the red button. "I'm hanging up."
His head snaps toward the phone. "Nooooo. I'll miss you... stayyyyy."
You start laughing into your pillow because the whine is so dramatic and so completely at odds with the expressionless little detective who's been staring at case files for three hours. "You cannot be serious."
"I like watching you sleep."
"That sounds horrifying."
"It helps me relax."
"I'm sure YouTube has sleeping ASMR, Timothy."
"Not the same."
You reach over and turn off your lamp, leaving your room dark except for the faint glow of your phone. Tim's face is still illuminated by three monitors, one hand resting against his cheek while the other keeps scrolling through reports. "Goodnight. Please actually sleep tonight."
"Mhm."
"Tim."
"I heard you."
"You'll hate yourself tomorrow."
"Not if I see you."
You settle farther under the blanket, looking at him through half-closed eyes. "Goodnight."
His expression softens a little, a pout pulling at his mouth before he turns back toward the screen. "Night."
You hang up. Your room stays quiet for approximately twelve seconds before your phone buzzes.
(I’m aware she has basically no screen-time in the movie, but she is always written with that age and appearance in mind. This page doesn’t support unchecked pedophilia in fandom spaces :>)
If only I had a beautiful, strong warrior lady to defend me, maybe then I’d be eternally happy… and, yes, I do mean Suki
CAVING IN - When an insecurity has you spiralling over your looks, Suki only sees one way to slow you down enough to hear out her reassurances: a kiss.
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hey so I saw you’re taking requests and I really like your writing!
I really really would love to see more content of my queen Suki in this app and I just rewatched the serpent pass and omg the kiss scene with Sokka and the “you talk too much” were a chef kiss scene. So enough rambling, I would love if you could write something like that dynamic, where like, the reader is insecure about something, or idk smth like that and Suki shuts them up by saying “you talk too much” and kisses them. Something like that
thank you very much!!
CAVING IN
Masterlist
Word count: 850
Pairing: Suki x gn!Reader
Synopsis: When an insecurity has you spiralling over your looks, Suki only sees one way to slow you down enough to hear out her reassurances: a kiss.
A/N: Thank you!! I entirely see that, we cannot take the Suki erasure in the show and the fandom
Insecurity is a vicious cycle. Born of cruel comparison, perpetuated by brutal desperation and looped by the remaining fact that it’s harder to change yourself than to remain how the spirits made you. It’s dark, merciless, almost predatory…
…and feels far too heavy on your mind for the brightness of Kyoshi Island.
Under your feet, the lush foliage blends into sand, waves lapping at the golden ground only a couple of metres to your left. On the other side of you, the wild forest reaches into the cloudless sky–tall, imposing, alike Kyoshi herself. Yet, it’s the life within it that makes the Island thrive: the people, the warriors, the animals, down to the rodents. Everything on this island is too vibrant for these doubts.
Still, you’re spiralling.
“It has always been ugly.” You scoff, frustrated. “It makes all of my face disconjointed, throws all of my features out of whack, I’m telling you.” You give Suki a sidelong glance. “Don’t you see it?”
Walking beside you across the beach, Suki gently shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. Her face is finally bare of makeup after a long day of vigorous training, now replaced by her natural features and that fond look she always gets in her eyes when you’re near and she’s feeling soft.
“I don’t see it.” She responds plainly. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Even though her words don’t stumble or shake, there’s another ugly side to insecurity that is often overlooked: how much it ignores persuasion. And right now, that side is rearing its head.
“That’s such a lie.” You disagree with a frown. “It makes me look like a stain.”
“It does not.”
“But it does.” You rebuttal, eyes widening as you turn to face her properly, stopping you both in your tracks. “It’s so exaggerated, unbalanced, weird. If I could just tweak it, then I’d actually look right. I mean, it must be the first thing everyone sees when they look at me. Right? It- it makes me look so weird and so ugl–”
Before you can even finish your word, you’re interrupted by the press of Suki’s lips against yours, immediately cutting off any further insults.
Any self-loathing thoughts instantly dissipate at the surprise of her lips against yours, the softness immediately easing your mind. She doesn’t hesitate, pressing against you with so much tender insistence that you find your body slowly melting against hers. Your arms slide around her neck, her hands following and snaking around your waist.
It’s only after a long moment of gentle kissing that she moves away, only slightly to where her breath brushes against your lips. “Stop speaking nonsense.” She reprimands, though her voice remains gentle and a small smile crosses her face. “You’re gorgeous, darling.”
With that, she presses her lips against yours once more, soft but with so much affection that it’s more reassuring than anything.
For a moment, it’s as if your insecurity is minimal, not a fault or a stain, but just a part of you that is–without dispute, without disdain nor any of the cruelty that exists within that insecure, vicious cycle.
Maybe that’s how it’s always supposed to be, perhaps it should normally be easier to get this calm. Yet, somehow, being in Suki’s arms doesn’t make it feel like a challenge, but rather, something more approachable, something achievable.
After a few more moments of gentle affection, she finally pulls away from you, though keeps her arms around you. Her eyes slowly open, still fond, still soft but now with a tinge of concern that scans your face, as though she’s unsure of what she just did.
But, before she can pull away, you tighten your grip to pull her into a hug. “Thank you.” You murmur against her shoulder. “Seriously.”
The tension in Suki’s shoulders subtly eases at your words, her arms tightening around you in return. “Always.”
It may seem like a simple, singular word, but to you, it’s a promise; a promise to always be with you, to soften the weight of your insecurities, to always remind you of your beauty. It’s so much, packed in with a pretty face and a sealing kiss.
You can’t help but sigh against her, finally pulling back. “I’m sorry about… that. I shouldn’t put all of it on you or ranted about it so openly.”
Suki’s arm slides around your waist, pulling you into her side as she gently directs you to continue strolling alongside her. “Don’t apologise. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me how you feel.” She smiles mischievously. “Even if you’re blind.”
“I am not!”
She laughs. “You are. You’re so pretty, I don’t know how you can’t see it!”
Turning your head away from her, you can feel the heat rising unapologetically to your cheeks. “It looks bad, Suki!” You insist.
Suki sighs fondly. “We’ll work on that.” She reassures, gently bumping her hip to yours. “But I promise you, darling,” You meet her eyes shyly. “It does not look bad. Not when it’s part of you.”
Genuinely wish the mcu fandom was still the same as it was prior to/around covid times. The sheer bs and insane headcanons born from it were genuinely unmatched, they could only come from teenagers with nothing else to think about 😭
Now it’s a huge, powerscaling mess which entirely discredits comics as if they weren’t the base for literally everything. I hate it there
the under the red hood adaptation was good but it would’ve been THE dcau movie if it had the white streak in jason’s hair and the line,”oh my goodness gracious, i’ve been bamboozled”
Hi! Idk if you are taking requests, publicly haze me if you arent.
But I was wondering what the gaang would do with a s/o thats not the biggest fan of touch? For example, slight freak out and sudden itchyness? Like in the beginning of the relationship being iffy, but when they are further on- being more comfortable?
GAANG WITH A TOUCH AVOIDANT LOVER
Masterlist
Includes: Aang, Katara, Sokka, Suki, Toph, Zuko
A/N: Hiya!! Don’t worry, I am taking requests, thank you for sending one!! This was interesting to think about :) I’d actually encourage them for multi-character posts, I’ve been struggling with ideas lol
AANG:
• Aang would understand it with the upmost seriousness.
• Even growing up, his love never existed within small displays or subtle touches. It showed through his bright enthusiasm, his protectiveness, the way he lights up with laughter and happiness around those he loves. His love is always unforgivingly clear through how the presence of his loved ones motivates him, makes him stronger, shows how human he can be while being a powerful Avatar, all the same.
• You’d see it when he’s crushing on you–how he blushes and flusters when you simply look cute, how he’d jump to please you, the way he not-so-subtly compliments you. It’d be so blatantly obvious, even if you’re shy or if you try to brush it off.
• So, when your relationship first begins, he reaches for you so happily that it only makes you feel more guilty when you jump with panic at the brush of his skin against yours.
• Though, he apologises faster than you can, immediately placating your guilt with soft words and reassurances that speak deeper than mere comfort. You’re instantly reassured that there is no pressure from him, no expectation, you don’t even have to explain yourself.
• Instead, he seamlessly re-directs his optimism to other types of affection.
• He’d so openly and loudly compliment you, making it known to everyone that he’s entirely awed by you. He’d show you private things, using his airbending to take you places usually reserved for only him, Momo and Appa, but now opened up to you because you’re so special to him. He’d be vulnerable with you, expressing his deepest struggles and hopes, letting you in where no else has been.
• It’d be more loving than anything else. Even without touch, you love him on a deeper level than anyone, you see what no one else does, you become the center of Aang’s world.
• It only makes it more special when you finally get comfortable to initiate touch. Every touch shows how far you’ve both come, each hug a show of your deep trust, everytime you hold hands it feels as though he’s proving how much you mean to him.
• And to a man who’s constantly faced with the worst of his world, it means more to him than anything.
KATARA:
• Out of everyone, Katara understands the most.
• For her, she’s never been an heavily affectionate person and her healing abilities only exacerbated that. She gradually became used to the ghostly cold skin of people on the brink of death, the slight tremble of someone who’s hurt, the feeling of pain under her fingers.
• It made touch something that walked a thin tightrope in her mind, something that could go from comforting to a reminder of every single anguished face she’s ever seen.
• So, when she first brushes against you and you instantly pull away with a panicked look in your eyes, she immediately backs away. Her eyes wouldn’t be confused nor judgemental, just soft and acknowledging in a way that speaks no expectation.
• She doesn’t push you to touch, doesn’t even pry for an explanation as to why you avoid it unless if you want to explain. Rather, she kindly lets you know that it’s okay and continues on normally, as if to affirm that it is.
• After all, she doesn’t see any reason to question you when it’s your feelings. She understands full well how it feels to be brushed off, she would never do it to you.
• Instead, her love speaks through her loving words, the time you spend together, the way you take care of one another. It exists in the smiles you both share when no one’s looking, how you in-tune you become without realising it, the times you notice things about the other that no one else does. She loves your smile, how you dress, how you simply exist in the world, no strings attached.
• Katara’s love lives as openly and free as the water she controls, entirely accepting of your boundaries as though it were just something that was, not something to navigate.
• Though, when you get more comfortable with affections, she melts into you as if it were there the whole time because, for Katara, the unphysical love meant all the same. She’d come to treasure every brush of your hand against hers, your hugs, the simply affections that mean so much more because it means there’s palpable trust attached to it.
SOKKA:
• As opposed to what might be an easy assumption of him, Sokka would instantly be so accommodating of you.
• While many people may overlook it in favour of his goofy comedy, Sokka has grown up taking care of people. He raised Katara as much as she raised him, together they fished to provide for their tribe, he’s always been motivated by making the world better for people, regardless of if he knows them or not.
• Hence, before he’s ever even tried to initiate touch, he’s checking in with you while you’re both hanging out for the first time.
• “So… what do you like, pretty person?”
• Perhaps you’re thrown off guard initially, maybe you only briefly mention your aversion to touch, but he’s taking in every word as seriously as he can.
• Instead, he’d indulge in your interests as much as possible, encouraging you in every other way he can and only attempting touch if it were something as easy as a high five or bumping his shoulder against yours. In no way does he push your boundaries.
• You quickly realise that he holds no expectations of you. There is no pressure to be affectionate with him, no attempts to speed the process up, if anything, he merely seems to need your presence, your approval and your laughter to please him.
• And when you begin to reach for him, he eagerly meets you halfway. It’d be exciting to him, a relieving sign that he’d done right by you for you to trust him now.
• So, if anyone tried to judge you? He’d give them a very stern talking to and send them walking the other way, because, for Sokka, his love doesn’t thrive by pushing for what might be expected, it thrives alongside your happiness and wellbeing. That’s the most important thing to him.
SUKI:
• Suki understands so easily that it’s almost disconcerting.
• For her, a true connection with another person is something that goes beyond the physical world. It’s a respect that embeds in your heart, puts you on the same wavelength, is what makes you understand another person, better than they understand themself. It’s a love that brings her so close to her Kiyoshi sisters, Avatar Kyoshi herself and, now, you as well.
• It’s that kind of love that isn’t something that needs to be proved to mean something to her, it just needs to exist for what it is as purely as it can. And that’s what makes understanding your aversion to touch so easy.
• The first time she’d try to initiate touch, it’d be something casual, the only meaning being in the newness of your relationship where there is little expectation, only hope. So, when your breath audibly catches at her touch and a disturbed look catches in your eye, the only emotion that crosses her mind is guilt.
• She’d back away, a frown on her lips at the sheer thought of discomforting you, even unintentionally, even when you’re looking at her as if you need to apologise. Then, she’d reassure you and affirm that this doesn’t change anything to her, she just wants to make sure you feel safe and she wants to understand how you feel.
• From that, your relationship would feel stronger than it had before. Her voice would soften merely at the sight of you, her whole, poised demeanour being able to relax in your presence. She’d love what you love, your motivations, your hopes, what you miss, what you want. It’d be written through her every action: how she cares for you, subtly protects your image, puts your feelings above her own.
• Even without any physical affection, Suki’s connection with you would be so entirely warm that it’s unmistakable to everyone around you.
• So when you begin to hold onto her and reach for her affections, it’d only affirm that, making your trust so whole that it becomes she could never lose, an integral part to her being. She’d ease into your touches in return, holding you so gently that you can’t help but relax into it, the comfort of your love for her easing the discomforts of before.
TOPH:
• Initially, Toph is thrown off her game.
• As embarrassing as some people may think it is, she has a habit of clinging to the people she’s attracted to–her arms around their biceps, leaning her head against them, any excuse to get close. For her, it’s an innocent way to see someone past their voice and the silhouette conjured by her senses; perhaps to affirm or deny her delusion by how they feel.
• And if anyone pried, would she blame it on her blindness? Hell yeah.
• But, when you first jolt at her touch, it immediately throws her off. She hears how your heart jumps in your chest, hears the tinge of discomfort in your voice, even when you’re apologising. Her senses pick up on every single micro-reaction immediately and she quickly deciphers that she can’t brush this off as much as you’re trying to.
• So, she won’t point it out or announce it, she just stops initiating physical touch, a silent accommodation to how you feel.
• Instead, her love for you blooms through other means. She’d go on walks with you, pick up flowers for you while hoping they aren’t ugly, talk to you about everything and anything. Your relationship begins to grow, not because of appearances nor affection, but through everything that makes you, you.
• Toph comes to love your voice, how it lilts when you smile, how it darkens when you’re sad. She comes to love your small mannerisms, if you stutter, if you speak quickly or slowly, what you gasp at or when you stay quiet. Toph sees you through your interests, what you love, what you hate, how your interpretation of the world differs to her own.
• Some people may define it as ‘love from afar’, but, even without sight, Toph feels closer to you than she has with anyone else.
• And when you finally get more comfortable and begin to initiate touch, she takes it entirely at your pace. She doesn’t shy away when you reach for her at all, won’t comment on it unless if you ask her to, she even flusters at your affections even though you’d been together for months by that point.
• Toph may perceive the world through touch, but her love for you manages to grow beyond that because her love doesn’t exist within the confines of what she feels, it lives deeper inside of her.
ZUKO:
• At first, it makes Zuko nervous.
• With the way he grew up, love has never been a solid concept to him. It was never tied to a specific place, action or any particular thing. It was shown through his mother, though he’d lost her too early for him to fully grasp it. It was then shown through Uncle Iroh, yet Zuko had only realised it too late.
• He has never had the chance to gain a full understanding of what it means to love and be loved with no strings attached, and that extends to his understanding of affection.
• So, when you first pull away from his touch to itch at where he’d been reaching for you, his mind can only jump to conclusions. Was it a coincidence or a fault? Did he do something? What did he do?
• He’d tentatively try to initiate touch on a few more occasions following, not out of ignorance but purely because he isn’t sure of himself nor how to make sure your relationship right. It’d be small, gentle actions–tentatively reaching for your hand, subtly brushing against you–but it’s when your discomfort only grows with each action that he begins to realise what’s going on.
• Though, I think he’d only properly ask you about it on a quiet occasion. Perhaps when the moon is high in the sky and the only noises around you both were the rustling of trees and the sound of the other’s breathing. He’d be tentative, nervous, unsure if he’s doing right by bringing it up. Yet, once you explain your preferences, everything all falls into place for him.
• He doesn’t question your aversion to touch, no longer spirals over why it is, but cares for you with it.
• He’d try to improve on confessing his feelings, if only to be sure that you still feel how strong his adoration is for you. He’d compliment you constantly, smile softly much more in your presence in a way that catches others off guard, even melts whenever you subtly take care of him–all reactions that affirm to everyone around you both, just how much he loves you.
• If anyone got too handsy, which is perhaps, most likely in his presence–perhaps an enthusiastic councillor or an excited Fire Nation civilian–he’d always carefully direct them away from you, wordlessly checking in with you through his gaze as he protects your boundaries.
• And when you finally ease enough to touch him, he finds that it doesn’t feel new or shy, just comforting as warm as though it were nothing new.
• For, it was never the lack of affection that made Zuko nervous, it was always making sure that you were happy, safe and loved well by him.
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A/N: I hope you can feel how much thought went into this, my internal monologue was contemplating anything and everything to try and make sure it was right </3 Katara and Aang’s giving love languages were so difficult for no reason
AANG:
LIKES GIVING: Quality time–For Aang to spend time with someone, it oftentimes becomes more than merely ‘spending time’ with them, it becomes a commitment. There’s expectations, sometimes quests, risky possibilities; simply being in his presence always has the chance to entail something more. It makes the times where he’s truly able to spend quality time with you the most free to him, his love is able to be expressed without chaos or fear, he’s able to fully be himself. Not only does quality time linger the most in his memories, but it’s when he’s the most affectionate and openly shows the most love.
LIKES RECEIVING: Words of affirmation–For a boy who grew up having lost so much of his life to time, words will always be the biggest display of love to him because they live longer than anything else. Surrounded by a complex world where distance is sometimes forced, safety isn’t guaranteed and everything feels uncertain, words become a clear thing to cling to in his mind when everything gets tough. No matter if it were an intimate profession of your love or a casual comment, it’s the depth of the emotions behind your words that make it stick, clung to by the comforting image of you. Being the avatar is a title that progresses, being your ‘forever person’ is timeless.
KATARA:
LIKES GIVING: Words of affirmation–Being a young girl who consistently had to prove herself, Katara’s voice became one of her biggest strengths. It enables her to challenge people, speak out for justice, break out of the oppressive mould that some people try to force girls into. She speaks with emotional charge, determination and blunt truths; all of which soften when it comes to showing her love for you. She’s certain, honest, her voice is full of palpable amounts of adoration. For Katara, words of affirmation is her strongest way of showing her love for you because her words aren’t just words, they encompass her feelings entirely.
LIKES RECEIVING: Gift giving–With her adoration for her mother’s necklace combined with her commitment to her tribal outfits and hairstyles, Katara’s image is built off of her sentimentality with gift giving. Having physical reminders of her home and her love not only strengthens their place in her heart, but pushes her to be something better, more determined, more kind. To Katara, receiving something caring and genuine from someone is the biggest display of love because it goes beyond words or touch, it shows your consideration, care and allows her to carry that with her.
SOKKA:
LIKES GIVING: Acts of service–For Sokka, he’s always showed his love and appreciation by helping people. When the Fire Nation arrived at his tribe’s settlement and he was the only man left, he stood tall to protect his people. He indulges in inventions that, in one way or another, might help someone. His fighting style even evolved to be one that built off of his friends and empowered their bending. Sokka adores helping people, so, of course, this leans into your relationship too. He creates things just to make your life easier, proudly tries to be at your beck and call, would likely carry you everywhere if given the chance. To him, to be the one to make you comfortable and happy feels like the best way to display his love for you by highlighting how much you matter to him.
LIKES RECEIVING: Words of affirmation–Sokka’s love for people isn’t just tied to his memories of them but also what they see in him. With Yue, she didn’t define him as a goofy non-bender, she saw his sincerity and drive to protect his people. With Katara, she sees his struggle and inabilities, yet never undermines his drive and determination because of them. Even Zuko values Sokka’s loyalty and strategy beyond his jokes, though still laughs with him anyways. To see Sokka beyond the wider perception of him is to love him enough to see his imperfections, and words of affirmation are the strongest confirmation of that. To know that you love him so strongly and to feel the depth of your feelings behind your words, is when Sokka feels the most seen, the most valued. After all, to be loved, is to be understood.
SUKI:
LIKES GIVING: Quality time–Through her time as a Kyoshi warrior, Suki has found that quality time is the best way to build a connection. With her sisters, it’s what’s made them so in-tune with one another, allows them to bring justice, be a unit, gives her determination. But with you, it’s a more intimate connection that’s formed. Regardless of how romantic what you’re doing is, being able to give you her time and her undivided attention feels like the best way to show you, your worth to her, how important your presence is to her heart when a world of injustice tries to pry her into loneliness. Quality time affirms to you both the strength of your relationship despite everything.
LIKES RECEIVING: Physical touch–To Suki, physical touch is an affection that grounds her as much as it softens her heart. It’s more tender than the violence she dishes out so often, softer than so much of the world’s cruelty, it’s something that exists between you both as a cushion when things get rough. Whether you’re eagerly excited or using it to ground you both in the moment, physical touch is what allows Suki to soften, to relax and to simple exist within your love, without any of the expectations outside of it. As a woman empowered by a need for justice, a physical reminder of your love is pulls her back to herself and softens her with your affections. Hence, understanding that and offering it to her, is the best way to show her that you care and that your love runs deeper than her brave face, but also to the woman underneath it too.
TOPH:
LIKES GIVING: Physical touch–Being blind, touch is an integral part to how Toph connects with people and the world around her and your relationship is another way she affirms that. Mapping out your skin under her fingers, being able to gently stroke your body, holding you close, any sort of physical affection is what makes her feel the most connected to you. It’s her love in a way that her senses are most heightened to, love in a way that is as close and real as the ground beneath her feet. To her, physical affection is the way she shows her love best because it is the most palpable way that her adoration exists.
LIKES RECEIVING: Words of affirmation–For Toph, physical touch is, of course, special through the way each person gives it to her. Most are gentle, some more direct, even people she barely knows tend to guide her with it for necessities. However, one thing that is individual to your relationship, is how you profess your love. No one else will compliment the small things, confess the way she makes your heart speed, fawn over her existence, not just out of admiration or hopeful flattery, but out of love. She grew up being complimented for things she couldn’t see, disregarded in her bending when it’s her greatest strength. So, to have someone be so genuine for her alone, it means more to her than anything.
ZUKO:
LIKES GIVING: Physical touch–Zuko’s existence is inundated by intense emotions–grief, struggle, desire, hope, fury–so many feelings swirling inside him that he barely understands himself. It makes expressing his emotions verbally an impossible task, too difficult to explain with clarity, a struggle to even convey without getting emotional; all of which extend to his love for you. It’s intense, new to him, so comforting and so deep that the easiest way for him to show his love, is through physical affection. It’s an affection that doesn’t need to be navigated, a show of his love that can just be and conveys how deeply your presence means to him. Every hold on your hand reveals how much he needs your support. Every embrace or kiss shows how much your affection grounds him, what it means to him. Physical affection doesn’t need to be explained, it just shows his emotions more than he could ever say.
LIKES RECEIVING: Acts of service–For so much of his life, Zuko has been abandoned by the people who are meant to love him and forced to fend for himself. Having someone care enough to see the struggles of his life and not abuse it against him was a rarity, something that only existed in his dreams and Uncle Iroh’s comforting presence. Hence, once grown up and having met you, noticing any acts of service hits him harder than anything. It shows you pay attention to him past his title or his face, it shows you care about him enough to remedy anything that discomforts him, it shows that his love for you isn’t superficially constructed like his love for his father was, it displays that it’s a partnership, love that’s reciprocated and deep. For the boy who’s so used to being alone, being cared for makes him feel more loved than anything.
SYNOPSIS: "Sure, baby." He smiles down at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, twirling it around his finger before tucking it behind an ear. "You'd think after the last-"
His body catches it before his mind does, and she watches in real time as Jason tenses, then trails off, the amusement draining from his expression. "What is it?" She whispers, confused. Her hand curls around his, squeezing.
Their front door breaks into splinters with a loud bang.
NOTE: It's actually been ages
MASTERLIST
"Let me up!" She giggles, trying to squirm away from under him. Jason is heavy, mostly muscle, and has no problem pinning her down with his body weight. A lazy smile stretches across his face, eyes glinting with amusement. "Jason!"
"Nah, you had so much to say earlier." He digs his fingers into her waist and yanks her back down under him easily. "Where's all that attitude now, huh?"
Rare were these days, where the Gotham smog cleared to show hints and flashes of the stars speckling the night's sky through their apartment's window. Days where neither of them came home with their shoulders set heavy, the slight weight of the world on them despite the years both of them have had to assimilate to the fact that that just is part of living in this city.
She doesn't even remember how they started play fighting, just that there had been a playful jab here, a chase around their kitchen table, laughter, and then the soft impact of Jason tackling her onto the couch cushions before dragging them both to the ground. Always careful, despite his strength, always cautious to cushion her landing physically and metaphorically.
It's carefree, for a moment. She's just her, and he's just Jason, and none of the darkness outside the rusty hinges of their front door exists.
Reaching around him, her fingers tangle in the hair near the back of his head, and she tugs him down. Jason fights it for a moment, just to see her giggle and then he relents, kissing her firmly, taking his time because God knows so much of it is already behind him. "I'm letting you win this time." She mumbles into his mouth, and Jason can't manage to hold back a snicker while he pulls away.
"Sure, baby." He smiles down at her, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, twirling it around his finger before tucking it behind an ear. "You'd think after the last-"
His body catches it before his mind does, and she watches in real time as Jason tenses, then trails off, the amusement draining from his expression. She moves to sit up upon sensing the change, but a hand to her shoulder pushes her back down and still. "Stop." He says, head cocked to the side, brow furrowed in concentration.
"What is it?" She whispers, confused. Her hand curls around his, squeezing.
His eyes narrow. "I think-"
Their front door breaks into splinters with a loud bang.
Jason swears, immediately throws himself forward to cover her body with his own, arms around her head as pieces of wood fly over the couch. Her hands come to grab at him in shock, and once the dust settles they only have a moment to pull away and make eyes contact before Jason is ripped away and thrown against the coffee table hard enough to shatter the glass.
"What the fuck?" He snarls, sitting up with a wince, adrenaline catching fire in his blood. "Who-"
When Jason's finally calm enough to blink the sudden wave of anger out of his vision, his back stiffens. Caught between the smoking barrel of a shotgun and a headlock, is her.
To her credit, she doesn't look panicked. If the pinch in her brow is something to go by she's furious, but there's a controlled glint in her eyes that tells him she's tampering down her real fear to unpack later.
"Stay down." The man says. Two others in similar cloth masks scatter around the apartment, pulling out drawers and shoving things into bags.
Jason stands, and the man shoves the gun against his girlfriend's head hard enough for her to stifle a groan. He catalogues the sound, remembers it for when he'll pay it back tenfold later.
He's cautious, but knows that the man likely won't pull the trigger so soon, not when he has easy leverage against him. Was this a random robbery, or a personal attack on him, is the main question. By the looks of it there's nothing to suggest that anyone is really interested in Jason aside from keeping him from making a move.
"The fuck do you want?" He snarls, hands bunching into fists. Something dark thrums right under his skin, infecting his blood with a poisoning green that Jason has finally come to co-exist with.
"Nothing personal." Jackass 1 says with a shrug, and the inflection in his tone suggests he's smiling. "Running low on cash, my boys and I gotta keep the lights on."
No way Redhood just got caught in the middle of a random robbery.
If Tim was here he'd be laughing.
Jason feels the farthest thing from amused.
If this were just his place, he'd be less bothered about it maybe, but it isn't. It's theirs. Something crafted from years of living together, every corner holding something of value may that be monetary or sentimental. His and his girls. Their bed where they sleep every night, their kitchen table they use for those sleepless nights, their living room Jason often than not collapses in after a long patrol. Echoes of them live in the rooms, and it's one of the few sanctuaries Jason feels he can shed his armour without the fear of it getting thrown back in his face.
And now it's been tainted.
Drawers emptied out, photo frames on the floor, and a gun pressed to his girl's head.
The freak goes to say something else, maybe to taunt him or demand the location of whatever he thinks he's going to find, but nothing but a howl comes out of his mouth as Jason watches the woman he loves rear her head back and crack it against the bastards nose, her free hand pushing the barrel of the gun away from her temple just as it goes off.
The noise is deafening, leaves a ringing in her ears that's almost unbearable, but the momentum is enough for her to shove the man off and stumble against one of the walls, hand pressed against her ear in pain. She trusts him to handle it, trusts him enough to squeeze her eyes shut and focus on not throwing up all over their new rug.
'Atta girl' Jason thinks viciously, and after sparing a glance just to see her whole and in one piece, he launches himself forward with an amount of grace surprising for a man of his stature.
Jason snarls, rips the gun out of the man's hand and slams the rear end of it into his head, kicking him hard in the chest to send him crashing into the wall. The other two men have abandoned their pillaging in favour of pulling out small knives and jumping into the fray, trying to take him down.
Like hell.
They go down easy, further proof that this wasn't a professional job, just an unlucky encounter for both ends.
Jason disarms them both, knocks them out, and leaves them on the ground before picking up one of their knives and approaching the first guy on the ground who's struggling to push himself up against the wall.
He grabs the man by the hair and yanks it backwards painfully, standing over him with a scowl. "Bad day to be you, shithead."
Then he drives the knife straight into the man's wrist that held the gun, twisting until he's screaming and Jason can feel his bones crack and separate. He leaves the blade in their, tightens his grip on the bastard's head and slams it down onto the floorboards to knock him out.
Silence. The noise is over as soon as it started, the threat neutralised, but Jason still feels the tell-tale anger coursing through his veins. It's a struggle to soothe it, to remember that this isn't who he is now, that taking the lives of these three men would not make him feel better in the long run no matter how much his fingers itch to pull the trigger. Shaking it off, he turns to more important matters.
He's by her side in seconds, a hand on her back and urging her to straighten up from how she's standing all curled into herself.
"Hey." He breathes, voice dropped to a lower register. "We're good, it's alright, c'mon."
She shakes her head.
Alarm rings through him. "What's wrong?" Jason says, shifting to stand in front of her, hands on her shoulders. He practically pulls her upright
"Hurts..." She grits out, pale. "I...I can't hear clearly. Ringing." "Shit." She inhales with a shudder.
"Let me see." It comes out firmer, and this time when he tries to tilt her head up Jason doesn't let her fight it.
Blood drips down the side of her face, slick between her fingers that were pressed against the wound. Jason's breath hitches sharply as he brushes away her hair to inspect the damage. It's nothing severe, the gun firing just grazed the side of her forehead but everything's still intact, and she's still breathing, and Jason hasn't lost the best thing to ever happen to him over dumb Gotham luck-
A hand winds around his wrist, one that he hadn't noticed was shaking. "I'm fine." She finally says, blinking hard a few times and straightening up. She wobbles, and offers him a weak smile when Jason immediately steadies her by the waist. "It's okay, Jay."
"It's not." He swallows, glancing over his shoulder at the wreckage of their home. Bloodstains and dents in the walls, possessions thrown around, and blankets torn up. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, a heavy sort of sadness settles in him.
"I don't care about all that." She says softly, holding onto him as the tinnitus starts to fade. The sound is still dizzying, but much more bearable now. "Just that we're alright."
Jason lets out a long breath, and allows himself a moment to bury his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. He winds an arm around her, digs his phone out from his pocket with the other.
The screen is cracked.
"That'll need stitches." He mumbles, pulling away to frown at the bleeding again. "We're going to the cave, Alfred'll help."
Tired, she settles for a nod. They gather the few essential things they need and Jason kicks aside one of the men in front of the door roughly to get past and back outside. There's a little bit of satisfaction in that.
Tonight he'll watch over her, stay by her side and hover. That's just what he does, what Jason has always done after a close call. His bones ache with the need to protect, to stay close, to safeguard. Tonight is for soothing that rush of anger in him that he's barely keeping a leash on, just enough to make sure that she's settled and recovering well.
AND IT WAS SUCH A GOOD ADAPTATION OF HER TOO, HER BEST LIVE ACTION APPEARANCE BY FARR
Every single issue I have with her other adaptations weren’t even present here: she wasn’t forced into any romance, let alone a love triangle THANK GODDDD, her love was rooted in sisterhood, she was powerful and got more powerful AND that power wasn’t rooted in the Phoenix, she has emotion SHE HAD PERSONALITY AND MOTIVE
oh my godddd this movie did her so much justice, i am so happy with it and this is only one aspect of the movie
I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A JEAN DEFENDER AND I AM PROUD OF IT
── jason todd ౨ৎ. jason todd x reader. sweet boy!jason. dick grayson (not so?) brief appearance. batfamily dynamics. mentions of guns and weapons. poor attempt at writing humor (condiment king shenanigans). canon-typical violence. established relationship. comfort undertones. non-sexual intimacy. fluff and domesticity. 0.7k words. ⊹ ࣪ ˖
“gotta go, dick.” jason todd doesn’t even look up when he says it—just checks the chamber of his gun out of habit, already shifting his weight like he’s about to disappear.
“no,” dick snaps immediately, breath a little uneven from the chase. “no, you absolutely do not get to ‘gotta go’ right now.”
somewhere across the rooftop, the condiment king cackles, a jet of mustard narrowly missing a gargoyle. “you hear that?” jason jerks his chin in that direction. “you’ve got this handled.”
“handled?” dick repeats, incredulous. “he just tried to relish-trap me.”
“wow,” jason deadpans. “that was bad. even for you.”
“jason.”
“dick.”
“this is still a job. we finish what we start.” dick says, more grounded now, less sarcasm, more weight.
jason exhales sharply through his nose, like patience is something he used up years ago. “and i told you—she’s waiting for me. it’s book club day.”
“oh my god,” dick runs a hand over his face. “you are not ditching a live takedown for a—what, a cozy little reading date?”
“it’s not ‘cozy,’” jason mutters, offended on principle. “it’s structured. we have a system.”
“you have a system,” dick shoots back. “with books.”
“yeah? and you’ve got one with acrobatics and color-coordinated suits. we all cope differently.”
another splatter of ketchup hits the wall behind them.
“guys!” condiment king shouts, genuinely offended. “this is a hostile takeover!”
“see?” jason gestures vaguely. “he’s monologuing. you’ve got time.” dick steps in front of him now, blocking his path. “you are not leaving me alone with him.” jason arches a brow. “you’ve fought clowns, assassins, literal death cults—but the guy with the squeeze bottles is where you draw the line?”
“it’s not about him!” dick insists. “it’s about you walking out mid-mission.” jason’s jaw tightens just a fraction. “it’s handled.”
“by who?”
“by you.”
“jason—”
“dick,” he cuts in, sharper now, something stubborn settling into his tone. “i showed up. i helped. no one’s dead. the city’s still standing. i’m clocking out.”
“you’re leaving me to get mustard-gunned for a book club.”
“you’ll survive. and stink.”
dick shakes his head, somewhere between annoyed and fond despite himself. “you’re unbelievable.”
“you’ll be fine,” jason says, already stepping back toward the fire escape. “just—aim for the bottles. he gets weirdly defensive about them.”
“this is not over!” condiment king yells.
“jason!” dick exclaims as jason walks out with a shrug. sure, dick needed him—but he couldn’t care less. how could he focus on catching bad guys, saving people when you were waiting for him at his apartment?
the moment he crosses the threshold of his apartment, something in the air shifts—his hand finds your wrist without hesitation, warm and certain, pulling you into him as though gravity had always intended it. “missed you, ma.” he murmurs, a crooked smirk ghosting his lips before it disappears into the quiet refuge of your neck.
he lingers there until you whisper a ‘missed you, too’. jason never understood you—why you stayed when nobody else did. and yet, here you are. patient. steady. unafraid of his internal and external scars.
“so here’s the plan,” you murmurs, a smile threading through your voice as your arms find their way around his shoulders, soft and certain. “while you shower, i’ll get our books ready for our reading date.”
there’s a quiet kind of excitement in her tone, something warm and anticipatory. their weekly ritual: soft pages, shared silence, the gentle turning of time. it had taken weeks of jason asking, half-joking, half-hopeful, before you finally said yes.
jason pulls back just enough to look at you, his lazarus green eyes gentling in that rare way he never lets the world see something almost boyish.
he knows he smells like gunpowder, like rain-soaked concrete and the lingering echo of something violent. the mission still clings to him, stitched into his skin. but now his arms are around him you.
he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before stepping away. “alright,” he mutters, already halfway between here and the pull of the shower. “jane austen, right, ma? please?”
“oh, god,” you sigh, but there’s laughter tucked into it. “only if we watch the movie next.”
and then he’s gone—vanishing down the hall, the sound of running water following almost immediately, steam beginning its quiet claim over mirrors and glass.
jane austen is about to witness something far sweeter than anything she ever wrote.
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Hiya!! I’m very happy with how my lover headcanons for the Gaang turned out and I’d like to do more multi-character posts for them… Issue is that I’m not having any ideas that are especially inspiring to me. So! If you have any ideas for headcanons or teeny scenarios you’d like to see for them, then please send an ask :> It’d be fun
(Not doing this for my other fandoms yet because I’m still trying to get a certain list of who I’d actually want in multi-character posts for them, they have way more potential characters that I’d like to include but I don’t want to do too many simultaneously </3)