resurrection.

 @wasntmj​ :

     jason’s slow march towards insanity was definitely being sped up by the undeniable and fucking horrendous energy of one mary jane watson from school. he had, naively, thought that the whole tutoring thing would be a piece of cake--after all, he was doing great at school, his grades were impressive and despite way too many late nights and poorly concealed vigilante related injuries, his attendance wasn’t terrible either. in theory, he thought he could handle this.

     but hell hath no fury or compressed-into-a-single-entity restlessness quite like mj. he likes her more than he does most of his other schoolmates--mostly because they’re all snobby rich kids, and despite technically now also being kinda rich (or at least living in a rich guys house), jason has yet to even want to figure out how to properly get along with any of them--what can he say? he doesn’t think the charming crime alley accent helps his case much. 

     --but his lack of calm right now probably has more to do with the two hours of sleep he got after riddler made patrol run long, rather than her inability to understand how trigonometry worked. he sighed, ran his hands through his already messy hair, scrubbed them over his face before just, “--the point is passing ms. park’s math class and not having to listen to a we’re very disappointed in you lecture from the dean.” he decides to appeal to his audience--they both know she doesn’t really care about trig, which no one does, but they both know as the only poor kids in a rich school, that failing a class and having the teacher tell the dean, who then tells your parent is not an option.

bloodiedpearls​:

While dubious in terms of quality, Jason knows for sure that life was at least easier when the lot of the bats had basically banished him, or generally ignored his existence for everyone’s benefit. At least then he didn’t have to worry about scheduling so much. “Y’sure about that? The lot of you give some pretty dodgy reasons for ‘important’ summons.” Jason’s starting to keep a list of all the dumbest reasons someone has used their official comms to drag him out of bed. At least this entry came with food. He sighs and collapses into the chair. “Think that one’s a lost cause, B. For it to work everyone’d have to be speaking to each other, in the same timezone, not doing UC shit and not be dead.”

A surprisingly difficult set of prerequisites.

notafossil​:

     --alright, already going better than any recent run in’s with JL members, but Jason is a wary thing by nature. eyes the extended hand for a moment longer than is probably polite, undoubtedly suspicious before grasping it with his own gauntlet covered hand and shaking firmly. 

     what was it alfred had always said about a firm handshake? ah well, he can’t fucking remember. “i dunno, seems appropriate. somehow.” he replies, only half being sarcastic. “--Red Hood.”

wcrldliar​:

     “so what i’m hearing is whoever you assigned to be his handler is not very good at their job and should probably take a pay cut.” really, he was failing to see how any of this was his problem. “because if he was a good handler, he would have heard ‘gotham’ and warned your uc guy that the place is full of vigilantes who don’t take kindly to drug lords.” none of the bats really did, but he’d be lying if he said that the red hood wasn’t a little notorious for being particularly unkind to drug traffickers.

     “oi, i shot him clean through the shoulder, he’ll heal fine and with a gnarly scar. what more could you possibly want?” if she was waiting for an apology, she’d be waiting a damn long time--everyone knew that undercover work came with risks, and sometimes those risks involved bullets through the shoulder. 

     still, it’s news to him--not the trafficking and experimentation syndicate, he knew that was going on, he just didn’t know that it was connected to this particular drug syndicate. not that he’s going to admit that to miss high-and-mighty over here--not on his life. “--if i get you the intel, are you gonna stop chewing me out?”

     “--am I still persona non grata or am I allowed to call upon your benevolence regarding this really cursed amulet I’ve ended up with?” Don’t ask where the amulet came from or how he knows it’s cursed, really, it’s better for everyone that some stories are never told.

     “--I’m just sayin’ that if we hadn’t let guillotines fall out of fashion, rich people wouldn’t be acting up nearly as much as they are these days.”

batcowmaster​:

“Ah yes. A whole inch. You must be so proud.” The kid actually had grown a bit--Jason could tell, but that hardly means he’s going to admit it. No, no.