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#hood up
randygearforever · 2 days
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Masterpost
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bobbie-robron · 6 months
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We’ve done our best.
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29-Oct-2014
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ditzybat · 1 month
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damian: why'd you shoot that man? i think he's dead
jason: he was pulling out his weapon
damian: what are you, a cop?
jason on the verge of tears: i'm so proud of you, but never compare me to a cop again
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arguablysomaya · 1 month
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he's well-adjusted now
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Keeping Up With The Wayne’s but bc Jason literally cannot be there, they have like a little memorial shrine and when asked about Jason, Bruce is like,
“oh my son, my wonderful wonderful dead son, he was an angel a perfect boy the best possible child ever.”
Tim just makes snide ass comments like “Well he wasn’t that great, he was actually an asshole who would always drink the last of the coffee and not make another pot like your suppos-“ and Bruce would interrupt like “hahahaha timmy here never got to meet Jason.” before gently covering Tims ears and fake whispering to the camera “He’s always been a bit jealous”
in revenge, Tim put the batman cowl in Bruce’s bedroom before he gave a tour and Bruce had to say it was Sex Thing.
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reineydraws · 9 months
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jason is a grandpa's boy and u cant take this away from me!!! they cook together, they discuss literature together, and when jay comes back, they clean their guns together haha. ofc they celebrate their birthday together too! 😌
✨️🎂 hbd jay & alfie 🎂✨️
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arkanaea · 1 month
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batbabydamian · 7 months
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Damian locks himself in his room for the rest of the day. Continuation to this!
bonus:
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bobbie-robron · 2 years
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arrowheadedbitch · 19 days
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Steph: Who was the best kid? Like, when you got them, who was best at, uh, being a..good kid?
Bruce, immediately: Jason.
Tim, traumatized: Let's not do this right now.
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allthegothihopgirls · 1 month
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dick and jason are the WORST when the batfam goes to carnivals and fairs. every time they see a 'skill' game ,they're going back and forth:
"i'd so win if we played that one"
"nuh uh. i'd win"
until they decide that they just have to play to see who's better. and of course they need a judge (just in case someone cheats), so they drag someone else down with them.
jason almost always loses, because dick grew up around carnivals and fairs whilst in the circus. he knows all the mechanics of those rigged games. either way they're both incredibly seasoned at the games, and walk away with so many prizes they neither want or need.
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mostly-imagines · 24 days
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Guard Dog
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods
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Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.
He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.
And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.
With other people though, he has…different methods.
You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.
You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.
His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.
“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.
A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.
Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.
Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.
Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.
“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.
Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.
“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.
The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”
“Mhm.” He grumbles.
The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.
“Jay?”
His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”
You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.
“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.
He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.
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You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.
His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.
You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.
Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.
He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.
Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.
“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.
Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”
“Thank God.”
Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.
His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.
“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”
Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).
You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.
Fuck he loves you.
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Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist and yours resting on his thighs as you tell him about your hectic day.
He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.
You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.
You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.
“Hey there.”
You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.
"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."
Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.
"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"
"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.
Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.
With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.
"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.
“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”
You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.
Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.
Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.
But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.
"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."
“She—”
“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”
The guy hesitates.
“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.
That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”
Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.
He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.
“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.
“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.
You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”
He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.
“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”
He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.
“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.
You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.
“Jaybird!”
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Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.
You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.
So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.
You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.
You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”
"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.
He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.
You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.
Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.
You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.
You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.
"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.
Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.
“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.
He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.
If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.
He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.
You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.
So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.
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headcanonthings · 9 months
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Tim: You know archaic Latin? Jason: I got bored with classical Latin. Tim: You know normal Latin? Jason: Yeah someone from my knitting club taught me. Tim: YOU HAVE A KNITTING CLUB? Jason: You don't know everything about me Replacement. Now do you want a sweater or a scarf?
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starspilli · 2 months
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lazy
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kaidatheghostdragon · 4 months
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Crack prompt: Danny has declared war on the curses in Gotham. He is armed with a water balloon gun, but the balloons are full of medical-grade ectoplasm. He targets any location, ghost, or liminal being tainted by curses and/or corrupted ecto - absolutely drenching them before yeeting off again.
This includes the Bats. Danny is smart about it, though. He lived in Gotham for several months before acting, so he could get the lay of the land. He also waits for patrol to be finished before hitting the Bats - he doesn't want to interrupt their Quest to Better Gotham (or be labeled an invader to their haunt).
One night, Danny happens upon Batman patrolling alone and waits for him to finish cleaning up a crime scene before hitting they guy with a half-clip of balloons. Batman gives chase, like he always does, and Danny runs, like he always does. He knows by now that, for whatever reason, Crime Alley is off limits to Batman. The whole alley just gives off "no (other) bats allowed" vibes.
Red hood is just more territorial. Whatever.
At any rate, Danny is enjoying the chase, using just enough ghost powers to stay ahead of batman, almost-but-not-quite taunting him. Crime Alley isn't too far, so instead of turning invisible around a corner like he usually does, he makes his way to the Alley to see if the no-trasspassing rule is enough to stop Batman mid-chase. He leaps across rooftops and weaves through fire escapes, ecto-balloon-gun bouncing by its strap against his back, until finally he's at the border, slightly tapping into flight to make the jump across a slightly wider road into the alley proper.
He turns around immediately, spotting Batman skulking on the rooftop on the other side of the road, stopping the chase and suit half-covered in healing ectoplasm.
"Sanctuary!" Danny yells, pumping his fists in the air from getting caught up in the exciting rush of adrenaline, "I claim sanctuary!"
"Who the fuck is claiming sanctuary in my territory?" Red Hood booms from almost directly behind Danny. He would have yeeted out of his own skin from surprise if he hadn't spent years honing his ghost-fighting instincts. As it was, Danny instead whirled around and emptied the clip of balloons into Hood, purely out of reflex.
Hood stood there, drenched in ecto like his fellow Bat one rooftop over, glaring murder at Danny with glowing eyes. But his haunt betrayed Hood's true emotions.
Surprise, concern, impressed, you-little-brat.
Danny booked it to the fire escape and turned invisible the second he was out of sight.
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