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jay-birddie · 5 years

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the boy with no eyes. // jason todd x reader - FICLET

request?⟜ nope

pairing⟜ j. todd x reader

genre⟜ the two ends of the spectrum, fluff and a dash of angst. though, i really wouldn’t consider it angst. a ficlet as well

a/n⟜ HEY THERE THIS IS IMPORTANT! im a small author with a small blog, and my upload schedule is as inconsistent as my sleeping cycle! so, itd be one total cheese ball of a favor if you could/would tippity tappity on that little notification bell. that way you won’t be wondering if i’m dead all because i haven’t uploaded in 28 years! merci beaucoup mi amigos! ps, sophomore year really likes to kick my derrière.

⟜ while away at vacation home, fifteen year-old jason struggles to make a decision that may alter the rest of his upbringing. after asking for your sea shell advice that promises discovery, you manage to console the ill at ease seen in your muse’s Sulfur eyes.

Your paintbrush dipped into the cloudy, off-white-colored water and pressed against the rim of the old pickling jar Alfred let you have. As you lifted the brush from the jar, a single drop of water landed on the petal of a daisy and looked like the water absorbed the color of the petal.

Your brush stroked against your palette, picking up the gloopy, lavender paint. In large, thick dots, you laid the Serendipitous hue next to the lively color of straw to form the batches of peonies in front of you.

Jason sat in the ivory-twined hammock, caught in his own focus, stuck in his own world. Rays of sunlight hit his eyes, the glittering of the Serenity inside him presenting itself to the domino mask his pupils set themselves on. You observed his position, quickly wiping the paint off your brush and dabbing new paint together repeatedly to capture the alluring hue of his irises. Successful, you painted the Peaceful undertones of the peony stems and leaves. In the corner of your eyes you saw his head turn and study you as you did him. You pretended not to notice, pretended to be too engrossed in your passion to see him.

“What should I do?”

You exhaled, turning to him as you lifted your brush from the canvas. You stared at his mask, contemplating your words.

“Close your eyes.”

He did, sighing before doing so, and waited for your next instruction.

“Listen to your head.”

A grey breeze drew across your cheek, passing to caress over Jason’s eyelids as his lashes fluttered. His eyebrows arched in anger and his lips pursed, then relaxed as the wind did.

“Now, listen to your heart.”

The beginning of his brows curved up with sympathy and sadness, and his jaw relaxed. You could almost feel his emotion prickle your skin like raindrops, and your expression matched his.

“And finally, listen to your gut.”

But you could tell he didn’t need to, or want to. The palpitations of his life had taken over, and his heart had won.

“Open your eyes now.”

After a gravitational second; after his features returned to rest, he opened his eyes. The color of them had changed as the light of day dimmed with the presence of clouds. He looked down at the mask and nodded curtly—afirmingly, then looked up at you.

“Thank you.” You gave your appreciation for his expressed gradutude in a delicate smile that almost moved the earth.

He didn’t say a word as he hopped from the hammock, leaving it to slightly sway. He came over to sight down your work, as you had always let him do.

“You didn’t get the color of my eyes quite right,” he commented, barely grazing the textured canvas as he pointed. You shrugged in his favor, satisfying him. He mumbled something about asking for sandwiches for lunch, knowing how much you loved the concept of anything packed between two slices of bread, as he dragged his feet through the Violet meadow-grasses.

Jason’s comment repeated in your head: You didn’t get the color of my red quite right.

But you did—

And maybe at the time he would have been safer if he knew; Maybe things would have turned out differently.

#jason todd reader insert #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #batfamfic #jason peter todd x reader #jason todd #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #jason todd fanfiction #im back baby #this was originally going to be a part of a bigger one shor #shot*#but i like how it turned out being by itself

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jay-birddie · 5 years

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this is the first and probably the only fic written by another reblogged on this blog.

sol .

— dick grayson x reader

MASTERLIST | FLUFF

this fic is apart of my CELESTIALS series, where i will be associating the batboys w/ heavenly bodies <3

[ 11/22/18 ]

—

A heart was set ablaze, fueled by the charismatic words that rolled off of Richard Grayson’s tongue like a warlock’s spell. The burning hearth residing within Y/N’s core from the desired love Dick was feeding her fire was spreading from her ateries to the bones, her veins now rivers of lava.

It was enchanting to her—the way his fingers traced her hips; how his laughter was like church bells; feeling his heat against her bare body after a long night of sexual activities. Y/N had fallen deeply in love with this man & she couldn’t help but turn to ash in his flare.

As a radiant light snuck by the sheet of curtain that was covering the transparent windows, Y/N found herself awakening at the touch of its rays on her skin. The blue cover had a lump underneath it, a mess of raven black hair sticking out from the navy blue blanket. Y/N knew exactly who it was, and it made her giggle at how childish her boyfriend could be in the mornings. The same man who fought crooks under the arcane moon, hiding from mornings & the responsibilities that follow.

“Babe,” she whispered gently, making sure that she wouldn’t scare him by her sudden voice, “it’s time to get up. You’re still a cop, yah know.”

A groan & incoherent mumbling responded. Dick popped his head up from underneath the covers & gave Y/N a pout. The uncanny resemblance to a toddler was there.

“Do I have to?”

Y/N nodded & sat up to stretch her arms, unbothered by the fact that there was nothing covering her now. The sound of joints cracking mixed with the cool atmosphere of an early fall morning caused her to sigh in content.

Dick crawled over to her side of the bed & wrapped his muscular arms around her, pressing his chest against her back. The vigilante buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking in her enchanting scent as the pair stayed like that for a moment. Y/N brought her hand up to run it through Dick’s hair, leaning in closer to him so she’d feel his warm embrace more intimately.

Y/N’s heart was not racing, like the vigorness of making a spark from wood & a rock, as it was when they first became a couple. Now, she found solace in the mornings, even if the sun wasn’t up yet, or if Dick had to leave for work soon. His crystalline blue eyes, though the color was associated with soothing waters & bitter ice, Y/N saw the reflection of sunlight in them; the way his skin was kissed on summer days, highlighting his beautiful irises; how he’d clip his hair up when it was hot & she’d be able to see his royal blue eyes without hair falling down on his face.

“Before I go, do you wanna take a walk?” Dick inquired, his tone soft, “It’ll just be us, walking around the block until the sun is all the way up.”

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jay-birddie · 5 years

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there has never been a show so great, that you could make moods and memes out of every scene.

#eric forman #red forman #huuuuu #i need help #my meme #i made this #that 70s show

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jay-birddie · 6 years

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heaven on earth// dick grayson x reader

request: none! I just really had the inspiration. though, i should get on to writing the actual requests i still have in my inbox.

pairing: dick grayson x reader

au?: takes places in the 1940′s. for some reason i got that kind of vibe when writing this.

genre: the good ol’ stuff

a/n: wow author you’re finally puttng out fanfic again after six months.

Also, I used to keep a notebook with daily paragraphs of writing. The first 3 paragraphs are from that notebook. i feel as if i now lack the creative mind I once had in my writing, but i know that in order to become a better writer, i actually have to pick up a writing utensil and let my feelings flow.

A lady, standing there, an angelic glow radiating off her body.

A man, standing just a few feet away, being pulled towards the light.

Beams of light reflected off of the crystalline glasses held delicately in her pristined hand. Those hands, trained to hold a grace in their movement, kept the glass so still that even the golden wine within it would remain unmoving as her her head tipped back in open-mouthed laughter.

White satin gloves covered her elegant hands to represent her purity and youth to the rest of the attenders and potential bachelors. The oval pearl earrings clipped onto the lobe of her ear dangled back and forth in time with the movement of her head like a metronome, glittering with the pearlessence of gemstone along with opalescence of the diamonds surrounding it. She had a natural forid tint to her cheeks, and so the need to apply rouge was unnecessary.

Although at her fair age, Dick could notice the crinkles on the outer corners of her eyes that would define themselves later as she aged and mature. It was her constant smile that created his prediction, though it wasn’t a feature that he disliked but appreciated. A faux grin doesn’t cause the outer corners of one’s eyes to crease.

Her features were so genuine, and it made Dicks heart flutter against his sternum and his cheeks match the color of hers.

He took continuous sips of his champagne only to avoid any gawking he might display, and looked around aimlessly as if he were searching the crowd for the perfect partner. But his eyes had already landed on her, through her eyes did not do the same.

The part of him that wasn’t so entranced wondered which family or organization she belonged to, as he had never seen her there before. She could just be a villain incognito, or a spy for the government, but Dick had to admit that he would spill every secret if she asked.

Her dress was quite magnificent; It was plain, yet so interesting. It was all one piece and the color of pink peonies. The fabric, from bodice to skirt was shiny, as if a shoe shiner polished it. The skirt draped elegantly down past her ankles, covering her feet as she stood there. A lengthy, thin, burgundy ribbon was wrapped once around and tied into a long, drooping bow.

The bodice was the most intriguing part of the entire ensemble: it was fitted at the waist up to the breast, where another thin ribbon of burgundy ran just below her shoulder. On the other side of the ribbon, the fabric scalloped at an upward angle all around her, making it look like her supple body was emerging from a budding flower.

He tipped the glass back only to find that his previous sip was his last, and his glass and stalling session time had run out.

He set his glass down on the silver platter of a butler swiftly passing by, and took a daring step towards her. But then, he took a step back as soon he saw her eyes on him. They took his breath away, her delicate eyes. The soft glow of the lighting made her features look gentle, and created a twinkle in her orbs.

She smiled at him, and he thought he might faint right then are there. He returned the smile, and before his mind could realize, he continued to walk in her direction. She began to walk as well with a focus that Dick was glad remained on him, and soon their bodies met.

Dick felt his soul being pulled in, and if hers was magnet that attracted him. Her natural, uncovered beauty made her more alluring up close.

“It’s rare that one is invited to a Wayne gala, and I’ve only heard rumors of actually being greeted by the host or his family. It must be my luck that both happen to me, of all people,” she said sweetly. Her finger tapped silently against her glass and swirled the remaining drops of campagne.

“Guess you’ll be able to tell the tale,” Dick responded, shifting his arms to fold behind his back to make him seem more open and confident. He giggled softly, her lips stitched together, nothing compared to what he had seen earlier. “Which organization are you a part of? I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before,” Dick quickly added to avoid any and all awkwardness that could occur.

“I’m not affiliated with any organization. Which reminds me,” she lurched with excitement in recalling a thought, “that what Mr. Wayne’s doing with some of his earnings is the most wholesome act I’ve seen since the late Ms. Ast, bless her sol, put in her will that her manor was to be the new Gotham City Orphanage,” she said.

He studied her for another moment, waiting for her to reveal the reason she was here. She took in the last sip of her refreshment, filling the gap in the conversation. Dick looked down at his feet as she did so, somehow amused. His head remained downturned as his eyes quickly glanced to the rim of her glass There was no lipstick mark, and Dick realized that her lips were always just that naturally spiked with blood.

“I am a humble journalist,” she said unexpectedly, her voice leaking with pride that the ‘humble’ could not conceal. Dick’s head popped up from the sound of her voice, and his left eyebrow lifted with interest. He remembered talk of women entering the literacy field, but frankly, he had never actually met one. “I write for the Gotham City Gazette.”

“You must be one hell of a writer,” He commented, prolonging her beaming smile. She thanked him, reaching to make sure not a hair had fallen out of its curled and rolled state. She looked around for a moment, prompting him to do the same.

“I’m going to search for that butler with the champagne. Would you like another glass?” She asked. Dick had reached his limit of two. Unfortunate, yes, but one particular night taught him how well he could hold his alcohol: barely.

“No, thank you,” He said. She began to turn as he continued, “Although, a dance would do nicely.” The words slipped from Dick’s mouth, and froze her body. He could see her lips creasing as he stood there, waiting for a response with an arched eyebrow and inquiring eyes, his lips parted slightly.

“No one’s ever asked me to dance.” She blushed, making it look like she rubbed raspberries all over her cheeks. She reversed the half turn, facing towards Dick again and acknowledged her embarrassment by bringing her hands to cup her cheeks to cool them. Dick chuckled at the reaction but was puzzled by what she said.

“Who was that fellow just before me talking to you? He seemed very interested,” he asked.

“Just a very good friend of mine. I’ve know him for my entire life and each time I see him he’s telling me a new story. Though sometimes exaggerated, he is quite humorous.” She was so animated in her speech compared to stuffy people Dick had met at previous galas who had their arms glued behind their back and their bodies stiff as boards. “But yes, I would love to dance, though you’ll have to forgive my feet before I step on one of yours.”

Dick laughed, untying his arms and holding a hand out to finally take hers. he assumed that by now, she had forgotten about her drink. Naked met gloved as she placed her hand in his. The gloves felt new, soft like the petals of budding roses in the spring. Their steps were quick and excited as they rushed along with other couples to the dance floor. Music entered the atmosphere. It was as bright and jumpy as his heart, the allegro tempo of the violins in harmony with the piano.

They set their bodies in place and waited for the cue: Their hands clasped, and Dick thought they fit and molded together perfectly; He placed his arm around her backside, settling his hand in the indent of her side, and he tried to keep the most chaste thoughts running through him; She placed her other hand on his shoulder, and Dick felt a delicate heat flow down to his stomach and birth butterflies.

The music replaced the hushed and nonexistent voices of the dancers as feet began to move. She immediately looked down to hers, though kept in mind the eye contact that needed to be exchanged with a dance partner. Dick could see the anxiety deep within her pupils. He felt sympathetic towards the lady, remembering the first time her attended a Wayne Gala. He was so nervous, the point of his shoe didn’t even step into the ballroom.

“Hey,” he whispered. He would have called her by her name if he had known it. Her head whipped up at the call to attention. “Don’t think about your feet. The music will make them move on their own.”

She nodded slowly, still gazing at him. Like Dick said, her feet maintained in perfect sync with the music. She got excited, pulling a sudden breath of air into her lungs, and her eyes brightening in triumph.

She gained more confidence as the music reached it climax, and Dick lost count of how many successful spins and box-steps they did. But he did keep track of the many times she looked as though love enwrapped her like the film on a piece of candy, so tightly twisted, yet so easy to come undone. He wanted to the be the one to unwrap her on the nights when everything seemed right in the world. He wanted to taste the sweetness of her skin, and get drunk on her heavenly perfume.

Not once did they break eye contact, and Dick knew that anyone who saw their affection would be jealous at the sight, and wish upon a star that they could experience the same feeling.

As the music came to a fade, so did their movements, until her dress sightly grazed passed her ankles at a slowing turn. She removed one hand slowly from shoulder, but Dick could still feel the warmth from her palm and fingers. His arm unlatched from her back, but Dick remembered that he might have more intimate dances with her in the future. Their hands unclasped, but their fingers lingered in touch and their bodies remained close, and their souls molded together perfectly.

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