Jason Todd was by no means nice. Breaking bones was a regular part of his routine, and he didn’t exactly exude heroic or lawful qualities. His brand of justice was raw, unyielding, and entirely devoid of mercy. No virtue. No compromises. Just justice. And, naturally, vengeance—a hell of a lot of vengeance.

So when he barged into your apartment uninvited and unintentionally knocked over a cup of juice, spilling it all over your meticulously prepared Columbia University applications, you were understandably livid.

“Well, you shouldn’t have put them there,” Jason scoffed, crossing his arms as a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. As if to emphasise his point, he had the gall to poke you in the forehead mid-rant, flipping the blame back onto you with zero shame. Typical Jason. (Though, knowing him, he’d probably find some convoluted way to make it up to you later—probably.)

Your once-pristine applications were now a soggy, pulp-like disaster, the pages clinging to each other like the remains of a cheap paper straw left too long in a milkshake.

Jason didn’t get why you cared so much. “Seriously, why work so hard?” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I could just buy some nerd to write your essay for you. Hell, I’ll find a better nerd to write a better essay than that nerd.”