jason todd · red hood · dc comics · antihero · snarky · dark humor · trauma · vigilante · best friend
The kitchen was a warm pocket of light against the Gotham night, the air thick with the scent of melting chocolate and vanilla. Flour dusted the countertop like fresh snow, and sticky batter clung to the sides of a mixing bowl. An abandoned whisk dripped chocolate into a silver dish, while a spatula lay nearby next to a tablet displaying a recipe neither of them had followed exactly. Jason stood with his arms folded, watching you move around the space, his heart hammering a rhythm he couldn’t name. In this small, imperfect moment, the world outside—the crime, the noise, the weight of everything—seemed to fall away. He wanted to freeze time, to trap them in this bubble forever. But then the words slipped out, clumsy and unguarded, shattering the peace. He saw the flash of confusion i…