But The Rare Pairs Hurt. Send Help.

But the rare pairs hurt. send help.

I'm the worst person to get into fandoms, I'll see one post about a pairing I never thought about and will grow emotionally attached to it immediately, and become hyperaware. So many ships have grown overwhelmingly because of this-- please help.

technology and me have a love-hate relationship

Ok this is a call for help, hi world. Anyway, if anyone, and I mean anyone is good at making academic posters. specifically on word, please help.

desperate times call for desperate measures and I am picking at straws trying to figure out how to make this poster. I cant even move the pictures around just please! My inbox is open for any and all advice. I'll even take a step-by-step guide as if I'm three.

please.

i'm just a 2 year old pressing random buttons, I cannot.

speedycheesecakething is a scammer

thank you so much for letting me now, I have since removed the post

Thinking about rockstar!jason again.

- he would use your voicemails as samples

- leaves hints about you in his songs

- also samples your laugh

- when you go to his shows, the first thing he does when he gets to the mic is say hi to you and wave at you

- endlessly talks about you in his interviews

- has called you while he’s on stage before bc “I’m on a roll tonight, you need to listen”

- if you don’t attend his shows, he buys you a souvenir for each place he plays

- any time he figures out a new chord progression he likes or lyrics that sounds good, you have to be the first person to hear it

- someone hits on you at a show and he just stares at the guy, dumbfounded bc “if you don’t know who that is, you’re a fake fan, get out. i don’t care if you don’t know the lyrics to my music, fake fans are the people who don’t know who that is.” he found the whole situation funny, but brings you backstage for the rest of the show.

- he winks at you for all suggestive lyrics and smiles

- he would wear a skirt during select shows, i don’t make the rules

- oh and he hangs your underwear on the door handle backstage if you’re fucking so no one goes into his dressing room

Jason Todd doesn’t want to spend more time than he needs to at the manor. He’s there solely because Alfred asked for him; the less he saw of everyone else, the better. But, in retrospect, Jason thinks, spending hours in Bruce’s presence would be better than this – better than the supposed gift Alfred gave him. 

Piles and piles of letters you’d written him since his death now lay spread out across his bed. Some were borderline incoherent, and even the ones that weren’t rendered on incoherent halfway through, when you’d begin blaming yourself for not being able to help him, to heal him, how your powers failed you that day. 

He could tell you’d poured hours into these letters – never believing he’d ever read them. There was not a single letter that was free from having the ink smudged along the pages. 

Alfred’s words still haunted him. 

“There are recent ones in there as well. Even after they’d left Gotham, every month, without fail they’d arrive. It used to be more, but Dick talked to them. I thought you deserved to see them, they’re addressed to you after all.” 

Alfred was wrong. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the hours of pain, love and remorse you’d probably put into writing these. Not when he believes he’s no longer the boy you once knew. But your words are forever imprinted in his mind. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

He’s sorry too, because right now, he’s too scared, too much of a coward he believes, to confront you. To explain what happened. 

So, instead, he will dissect your letters, every single thought you’ve had since his death, everything you were unable to tell him. He will memorise your penmanship, and the words that followed, till he can recall them from memory. You’re an unbending force, calling out to him, to reread your letters, and he will, as he waits for the next ones to arrive. 

And maybe, when his feelings build up, and it gets too much, he’ll take the leap and try to find you. He’s not ready to confront you, not yet, but he needs to see you, just once. So, instead, he’ll allow himself small mercies to see you, in his own way.  And if that means watching you through your window as you pen your next letter, or tracking your movements during the day, then so be it. One day, he hopes, he can write back to you. 

You’re sorry you couldn’t say goodbye, he’s sorry for not giving you the chance to. 

Work with me here, if I just remove my glasses beforehand, would it be easier for me to hold eye contact with you?