#a lot of the time it becomes easy to extend that to the whole world. other people can hurt you in smaller ways that feel so much bigger when

[yrlocalghost]

you know. i feel like chara is obviously a very complex character and has a lot of problems and a lot going on, but i always thought that the fact that the whole wanting to kill people from their village was like. not that bad. in and of itself.

[blkgirl-writing]

The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons

Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)

A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!

Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll

He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him

This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him

Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen

Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his

eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you

It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away

He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."

────⊱⁜⊰────

He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him

That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way

With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace

Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you

Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast

He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you

Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you

“You’re absolutely ravishing.”

And he’d give himself fully to you

Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric

Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it

Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give

Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for

────⊱⁜⊰────

Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking

If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch

If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch

Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass

It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp

But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired

that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy

he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting

────⊱⁜⊰────

One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much

It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures

That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were

Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks

They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds

I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke

────⊱⁜⊰────

Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day

You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust

Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower

For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap

If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies

if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day

When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy

telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"

cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand

it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you

I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts

like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels

"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)

Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home

I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love

but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly

There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in

Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you

He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you

super sweet but makes games feel much longer

────⊱⁜⊰────

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

[samkerrworshipper]

rockin’ around the christmas tree

alexia putellas x reader, alexia putellas x putellas!child x reader

fun fact my least favourite holiday is christmas and i don’t really celebrate it at all! but the request i got for this was so cute so i pushed down my inner grinch because i just had to! i’m sorry to any spanish people who don’t celebrate christmas this way lol i tried my best xo

Growing up, christmas had looked a lot different for you then for most kids. 

You didn’t grow up in a house were Christmas was really celebrated, most of the time, your parents worked through the day, and you’d be left home alone with you older brother. 

On the good years, you’d get a present, but most years all the money that could have been christmas presents was put into the football budget, or into buying you a second hand pair of boots so that you didn’t have to play through the winter with holes in your shoes. 

You never really minded, you didn’t grow up in a family where christmas was something your parents could afford, and you’d come to terms with that, it was more important that there was food on the table and money available for football fees then christmas trees or gifts. 

That’s why you struggled with it all. 

Alexia had grown up in a house where Christmas was everything you could have ever wanted, christmas lights, dinner with the family, as many presents as she asked for, a big tree, everything traditional that made the holiday everything it was made up to be. 

Alexia had been the first person to show you what Christmas could look like, your first christmas together had been an.. experience. 

When your girlfriend of six months at the time had found out that your plans for christmas included staying in your apartment and watching whatever crappy christmas movie re-runs that the television was showing she’d been distraught. It had taken a lot of you reasoning with her to explain why you didn’t feel the need to celebrate as extravagantly as other people. You were happy to spend the day in, happy to have a day of piece and solace.

Alexia refused to accept that, so you’d been dragged along to her christmas morning with Alba, then her christmas lunch with her cousins and extended family and finally dinner with Eli and the closer family. 

It had been more activities and festivities in a day then you’d experienced in your whole life of christmas’, and that night when you’d inevitably ended up at Alexia’s house you’d broken down. 

Christmas for you had always just been another day, but your day spent with Alexia had made you feel more loved then you ever had before. 

Christmas was supposed to be a happy day, but that night, all you’d done was sob. You didn’t blame your parents for your missed experiences, they did the best that they could at the time. But you mourned the bit of your childhood that you’d so clearly missed out on. You were overwhelmed beyond any words being able to describe it, you didn’t understand how some families got this, and yet others didn’t. Alexia was so incredibly blessed and she had no idea about it.

Even eight years later, you weren’t the best with christmas. 

Just because you’d become accustomed to what christmas in Alexia’s world looked like didn’t mean that it came easy to you. 

Alexia loved christmas, she looked forward to it every year, if you were to harbor a guess you’d say it was probably her favourite holiday of them all. 

You didn’t hold the same sentiment, you didn’t have years of positive childhood christmas memories, and even after your experiences with the Putellas it didn’t overshadow your deeply innedeed desire to spend christmas under the covers of a bed.

Every christmas was spent similarly for the Putellas’, Alexia waking up at 5am, full of energy, dragging you straight out of bed. Once dragged out of bed, you’d get thrown down onto the living room floor, coffe thrusted in your hand before the annual present unwrapping. 

Alba normally rocked up around 6am, depending on her circumstances, with or without a partner. From then the apartment living room floor turned into a pile of gift wrapping paper as the two Putella’s sisters unwrapped present after present like six year olds. 

You’d never been big on the present thing, you enjoyed watching the two sisters and their animated reactions to every single gift that they received, you preferred to sit back and discreetly open the gifts that were thrown your way. 

After the great present opening, it then transitioned into a big breakfast that made you nauseous and bloated and semi-uncomfortable.

Christmas tradition to Alexia was like a law, there wasn’t any changing it. 

You’d thought that once you’d started to form a family together that maybe things would change a little bit, that maybe Alexia would relax and mellow out, that all of the fuss and festiveness would subside a little bit, but you were so wrong. If anything, it only got more intense.

Lili was four, and it was the first year that she’d started to catch onto what Christmas was, and Alexia was giddy about it. She’d spent the whole months of November and December getting your daughter as excited and understanding of the ‘magnitude’ of what event was coming up. 

Christmas for the putellas’ household started on december first, everything leading up to the big christmas eve dinner on the 24th. 

Lili had already been excited, but spending the night beforehand with all of her older cousins, unwrapping smaller presents and sitting around the table hearing stories from Eli hadn’t been any help. 

You were less than enthuasiatstic about it all, but this year you had an excuse to sit back and relax, and that came in the form of your 2 month old baby, Emi. 

Emi was also a good enough reason to dip out of the celebrations a little bit early, when Emi started to get fussy and hungry for her night time feed you decided it was time to call it and one-handedly dragged your wife and her mini-me out of Eli’s house, with the promise that you’d make sure the two of them got enough sleep so that they were functional by tomorrow. 

The two pouted the whole way home, and it truly added a whole new layer to the whole mini alexia persona that Lili had adopted. 

She was a carbon copy of Alexia, always begging to be dragged along to football training, she had the same little focused scowl that Alexia had when she was focusing, she watched football on the television with the same amount of intensity that Alexia did, all of her mannerisms, all of her values, all of her little details were all Alexia’s. 

You were still holding out bits of hope that Emi would be a little bit more like you, but you were also well aware that if she was anything like her sister then it was a losing battle. 

You tasked Alexia with getting your hyped up older daughter to sleep, whilst you dealt with a fussy Emi who was overtired and refusing to go to sleep. 

“C’mon Emi, you’re fed, you’re changed, you’re tired, you’ve got a comfy bassinet and yet you won’t go to sleep.”

You looked down at your daughter, who had tears running down her face below you in her bassinet, sucking furiously on her dummy like she was trying to prove something to you. 

You weren’t quite sure what was worse, a four year old who was riding on a christmas fueled energy high, or a baby who was so determined to stay awake even though she was absolutely exhausted. 

With Lili, at least you knew that once she’d been bathed and put to bed that a few stories would put her straight to sleep, it was just the process of getting her into bed that was a struggle. Emi however, was a complete mystery. 

Some nights, all she needed was a big feed of milk and she went out like a light, other nights, she would stay awake just for the sake of it. 

It was like she could sense the excitement bouncing off of her mama and sister and decided that she too was destined to make your christmas as long as possible. 

By the time Alexia trailed in, you were just bouncing Emi off to sleep, unsure about how you were going to transfer her from your arms to her bassinet. 

Alexia crawled into your shared bed, watching you with adoration as you gentled paced the rug at the end of your bed, rocking Emi with you. 

“You’re so good with her.”

Emi at least, was an easier baby then Lili had been. Lili had almost been reason enough for you to leave it at one child, the first couple months of her life had been hell, but then the toddler phase came and you and Alexia had both fallen in love with the idea of having a little friend for Lili to run about with. So, the rounds of IVF had come again, and after a miscarriage and failed treatment, the two of you were met with little Emi. 

It was hard juggling a four year old with far too much energy for one child, but the two of you had made it work. 

“I’m just doing my job.”

Motherhood had become a job for you, football wasn’t your passion so much anymore, you were unofficially retired and you were happy that way, you’d won all the accolades you needed, you had a family now that was coming first. 

“You’re the best mother, you couldn’t do much more for them.”

You smiled at Alexia, it made you blush in a way like no other when anyone commented on your parenting, it was good to know you were a good person, but to know that you were a good mother, it was something else. 

You finally managed to push Emi into enough of a lull that when you placed her down in her bassinet she fussed a little bit before finally falling into a proper sleep. 

Once you were sure she was out, you crawled into bed beside Alexia, allowing her to wrap her body around yours. 

“Is there any chance I can convince you to stay in bed any time past 6?”

Alexia snorted, her head finding homage in the corner of your neck. 

“Lili has permission to be out of bed from 5am onwards, so have fun trying to control that.”

You groaned. 

“The presents will still be there, when the sun has risen, why do we need to be out of bed so early?”

Alexia reached over to the bedside lamp that was still on, flicking it off and relaxing into the pillows. 

“Alba will be here at 5.30, technically, you can stay in bed as long as you like.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“And miss out on you acting shocked at the presents you bought for our daughter and for yourself? How could I do that to myself?”

Alexia pinched your side. 

“No, santa brought the presents and I will act shocked when i see what Santa has brought this year, as will you.”

You pinched Alexia back, smirking as she winced. 

“I told you that you didn’t need to buy me anything, Alexia.”

You managed to block Alexia’s attempt at retaliation, smirking to yourself. 

“No, my name is baby, love, honey or sweet, not Alexia. Asking me to not buy you presents is like asking me to not love you, it’s simply not possible. Also, what kind of impression am I setting for lili and emi if they think that it is acceptable to not shower everyone around them in presents on the best day of the year.”

Alexia sounded proud of herself for that statement, like she’d made a real point. 

“You’d be setting an example that love isn’t tangible and you can love someone without pushing gifts down their throats.”

Alexia’s arms wrapped around your stomach, pulling you directly against her. 

“You don’t have to open them if you don’t want to, we can keep them for your birthday, or for mothers day, or for our anniversary. I know it’s a hard day for you, if you don’t want to be apart of it all then that’s okay. We’ll work it out okay, I can try to keep lili at bay for a little bit longer if you watnt a sleep in.”

You shook your head, what Alexia was offering was nice, but it was one day a year, Alexia’s favourite day, and you were willing to make compromises if that was required. 

“You know how much I love you, right?”

Alexia smiled into your neck, a big corny smile. 

“Love me enough to wake up at five am?” You rolled your eyes, flipping down onto your pillow. 

“You’re making breakfast, and you’re putting Lili down for a midday nap when she inevitably needs one, and Alba can deal with her other niece when she gets fussy from her sleep schedule being messed with, I want a day of relaxation, okay?”

Alexia wasn’t kidding about the five am thing, you’d just managed to get Emi back down after her early feed, when your daughter dragged herself through the door of Alexia and yours’ room. 

She looked more exhausted then excited, something that you were happy about. 

“Feliz Navidad, mommy.”

You smiled at your daughter, patting down on the bedding between Alexia and you, making room for your daughter to snuggle up between the two of you. 

It was far to early for your liking, and you were happy to cuddle with Lili if it meant you could have another hour or so of sleep. 

“Feliz Navidad, sweetheart.”

She wormed her way underneath your covers, immediately throwing her arms around your body. 

“Present time?”

You shook your head, bring your daughter close to you. 

“Not yet sweetheart, you mami will wake you up when it’s time, okay?”

It was like at 5am Alexia’s internal body clock went off, both her and your daughter jolting up together like they’d been struck by lightning. 

“Mommy, it’s time to wake up, it’s christmas.”

Lili’s voice was less of a whisper then it had been when she’d crawled into your bed, and you weren’t all that surprised when seconds later Emi was crying, like she knew exactly what was supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart, go downstairs with your mami, I’ll come down in a minute.”

You were happy to get Lili and Alexia out, leaving you in a semi-tranquil room, besides Emi who was now softly whining beside you. 

You reached over into her bassinet, lifting her up and out, happy enough when she settled in your arms. 

You figured it was a smarter idea to feed her now, then staving it off and having a grumpy baby in a couple of hours. 

So you enjoyed some peace as you nursed Emi, it was a nicer way to wake up and adjust to the reality of what your day was going to look like. 

Once Emi was done you threw on a robe and your slippers, before slipping down the stairs of your house and slowly making your way into the living room. 

You could hear what was going on before you saw it, the sounds of your daughter squealing and Alexia making similar noises. 

It was Lili, Alexia and Alba, all crowded around the christmas tree that Alexia had insisted had to be from the same farm Eli had been getting trees from for years, all three of them with their own piles of wrapping paper at their feet. 

It was a sweet sight, one that struck on your heart strings and made you so incredibly grateful. 

The amount of excitement one Lili’s face made it all worth it, how happy she was. 

“Ah, their is my other favourite niece, come, let me have her, sit down, put your feet up. Emi can help me with the pancakes.”

You accepted a hug from Alba, and happily handed of Emi to her, taking a seat down on your couch, watching as she with practised ease carried your daughter next door to the kitchen. 

“Mama, look at what santa brought me, look at all of the toys.”

You weren’t all that surprised that Lili’s pile had magically grown in stature, probably due to both Alexia and her sister’s insistence that it was child abuse to not overflow a child with presents on Christmas. 

You were even more shocked by the amount of presents that were designated to your newborn baby. 

“Mami, look, a new jersey! With mommy’s name on it, so i can match with you to games!”

The amount of excitement on your daughters face as she turned around to show you the putellas lettering across the back of her blue and red jersey made both you and Alexia weak. You might have been a grinch but there was no denying the amount of pure innocence and joy that was filling your daughter up. She looked impossibly adorabl with her twin braids that Alexia must have done the night before, with her newest addition to her jersey collection layered over the top of her pink flannel set, catching in certain places and the collar not quite aligning. 

“Wow Lil, we get to match now, we’ll have to get a extra one for Emi.”

Alexia smirked at you, alreayd holding up a matching miniature sized version of the same jersey Lili was in, you rolled your eyes, there was one thing your two month old baby didn’t need more of and that was most certainly barca memorabilia. 

“Mami, look, presents for you, and presents for mommy, and presents for auntie Alba.”

You smiled at your daughter, who was pinging with excitement. She pointed frantically between the different piles of parcels, all of which wrapped in seperate colours of papers. Lili’s pile was less wrapped, more strewn across the floor. 

Alexia was responsible for all of the different bits of football gear, whereas you’d stayed more conservative with your choices of clothes, dolls, different zoo animals, small train sets and new books. 

“Wow sweetheart, you really got spoiled, huh?”

You couldn’t help but clutch for your phone, taking a photo of your wife and daughter, who were both looking at eachother with equal amounts of excitement. You were well aware that it was going to be a fight trying to get Lili out of that jersey and into the nice dress you’d picked out for today, but you could compromise with letting her wear it over until photo time came around. 

Alexia looked particularly proud of herself when Lili came running at you, with a handful of gifts, all with your name on them and signed from ‘santa’.

“For you, from mami and santa.”

You smiled at your daughter, who stood in front of you, seemingly waiting for you to open up the gifts. 

You reached for the smallest one first, smiling at a new set of earrings that you knew would quickly become some of your favourites and a matching necklace that had the letters E, L and A on it. 

The jewellery was then followed by a voucher for three months of pilates lessons at your favourite gym, which you were exceptionally grateful for. It wasn’t easy working out after having children, but it was even harder trying to adjust to the new version of your body and Alexia was well aware of how insecure you were feeling, plus pilates was a better transition then pump workouts. 

The next gift was a new set of running shoes, practical but a gift you were more than happy about. Plus, they would be good for your pilates, so you couldn’t really deny the need for them. 

“Alexia, if there is anything alive in this box then I’m going to lose it.”

The fourth parcel was the largest, a big box which contents you were completely uncertain of. Weirdly, Alexia had the tendency to always purchase something for chistmas that the two of you definitely did not need, and that was only going to make your lives harder. Lili had been harping on about wanting a dog, Nala, had unfortunately died when she was too young to remember. She was for whatever reason desperate to fill that hole, and you conceded that once Emi was a little bit older it was definitely a possibility, but not right now.  

You nearly cried when you ripped the packaging open and were met with a brand new set of pans. 

It was a random thing, and definitely not something to cry over, but it was something that you’d been secretly wanting for a while now. 

“Mami, why is mommy crying over new pots and pans.”

Alexia snorted from the other side of the room. 

“Because mommy has been saying naughty words every time she’s been cooking with our other pans and things have been getting stuck to them, so I decided it was time we got some new ones, because it’s not nice to use bad words.”

You rolled your eyes, Alexia was the worst role model for swearing, every time anything small annoyed her. 

“Thank you, it’s a really good gift.”

Alexia smiled at you lopsidedly, pots and pans was her version of the worst christmas gift ever, but seeing your face light up was enough information to know that she’d done good.

“Ah, you’re crying now, and you haven’t even opened my final gift.”

You looked at Alexia sceptically, trying to figure out if this was one of her weird Christmas things. On your first christmas together, she’d brought you a bike, technically she’d bought two bikes, with the intention of the two of you using in the summer. What she hadn’t know, was that you had a slightly irrational fear of riding bikes, and refused to be within 2 metres of the two wheeled beasts. 

Alexia wasn’t a bad gift giver, she was just really good at buying things that she wanted, but forgetting that she person was gifting them to wasn’t necessarily the ideal recipient. 

“Lili, give your mommy the last one for me, yeah?”

Lili smiled at you, big and wide and for a second you worried, that it was going to be something you had to pretend you liked for the sake of not giving Lili a bad example. 

“Mommy said best for last.”

She pulled a present out from nowhere, a small, long one that looked more like a gift card then anything else. 

Good, nohing alive, nothing big or spacious. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before smiling down at your daughter and opening the final one. 

If you’d been crying before, then this gift had you close to sobbing. 

“Mommy says that you deserve time off, just the two of you, so I’m going to stay with abuela and auntie alba for a few days with Emi and you two are going to have some alone time.”

You bit down on your lip, looking up at Alexia, waiting for the catch. 

“Just you and me?”

Alexia nodded, a big smile playing on her lips as she looked at you from across the room. 

“Just you and me, three nights in italy, your favourite.”

You werw willing yourself to not cry, but when Lili jumped into your arms, followed quickly by Alexia you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Feliz Navidad, my love.”

You reached up to press your lips to Alexia’s ignoring the fake vomiting noises that your daughter was making, undoubtedly that she’d learnt from spending to much time with her auntie. 

It was peaceful, it was wonderfully perfect and nothing that you would have imagined for this christmas to look like. 

“Ale, I think the pancakes are burning, or the toast, or the bacon, something’s burning.”

Alexia snorted and you couldn’t help but join her, the two of you breaking into giggles when the smoke alarm started to scream from the kitchen. 

“Feliz Navidad, baby.”

[threestarsinline]

Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)

Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!

<Part I

After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.

Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.

Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.

Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.

Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.

And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.

Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.

And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.

When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.

“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.

“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.

“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.

“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.

“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.

“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.

You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.

Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.

But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.

These damn braids.

Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.

He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.

She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.

They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.

He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.

“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.

Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.

“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.

“She’s nice and funny.”

“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.

“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.

Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.

Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.

“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.

She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.

Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-

“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.

Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.

He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.

“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.

“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not this time, no.”

“No? Impossible.”

“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”

“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.

He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.

“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.

“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”

You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.

“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.

“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.

As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.

“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.

And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.

“Yeah.” He whispers back.

Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.

“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.

“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment. 

“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.

One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.

Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.

No matter how much he might want to.

So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.

He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further. 

He has never felt safer.

The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.

But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.

“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.

With you? Always.

“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.

It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.

And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.

He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.

“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.

As if he could think anything negative about you.

“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books. 

Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.

Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.

As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.

He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.

Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.

“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.

He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.

“Tell me more.” He says.

At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”

It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.

After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.

So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.

Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.

You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.

In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.

Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.

You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding. 

You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.

But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.

Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.

Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.

And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.

Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.

You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.

His left hand on your waist.

His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.

Your chests almost touching each other.

Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.

You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.

You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.

You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.

Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.

And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.

You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.

He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.

You feel safe.

The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.

Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.

And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.

Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.

Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.

Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.

Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.

Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.

It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.

His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.

You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.

You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.

You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.

And then-

“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.

And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.

You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.

When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.

Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.

“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.

“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.

“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.

You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.

You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.

But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.

The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.

Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.

Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen. 

Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.

But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?

“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.

“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.

“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”

“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.

“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”

“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”

But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.

You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.

You look beautiful.

You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.

But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.

Dread. Panic.

Because what if you actually do have a date?

Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.

His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.

But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.

But still, neither of you had said that out loud.

And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.

Right?

Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.

He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?

If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.

That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.

Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.

The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.

The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly. 

And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.

He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.

And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.

The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.

What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.

But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.

So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:

“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.

You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.

Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.

“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.

He hasn’t lost his chance.

“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”

You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.

“Thanks again for letting me go early.”

“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”

“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.

You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.

As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.

Jason smiles at the fond interaction.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.

“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”

“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”

Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.

But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”

“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.

“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.

You feel your whole face heat up.

“Thanks.”

You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?

Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.

But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.

He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.

You.

He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.

The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.

You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.

Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.

And now you were in danger.

Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.

He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.

The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.

The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.

Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.

If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.

Going to you.

Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.

They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.

Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.

Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.

But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.

And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.

Go. We handle this here.

And with that, Jason set off.

The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.

As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Steph and Duke shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.

His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.

You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.

Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.

However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.

Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.

He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.

He calls you by your name.

How does he even know your name?

You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.

Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.

Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.

Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.

Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.

How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?

Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.

Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.

And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.

You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.

For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.

And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.

Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.

He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.

In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.

He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.

It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.

And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.

He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.

But it’s the only way to keep you safe.

And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.

And that’s exactly what he does.

You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.

It really is him.

He’s Red Hood.

Jason is Red Hood.

Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.

Your Jason.

Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.

“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.

“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.

And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.

Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.

You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.

“What are you doing?” You say.

“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.

“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.

Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.

“No. I’m not taking it.”

“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”

You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.

“But-” You start but he cuts you off.

“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”

Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.

“Always.”

Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.

Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.

Everything is going to be okay.

But then Jason starts coughing.

The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.

Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.

You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.

And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.

How could you have been so foolish?

You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.

Nothing.

You can’t take it off.

He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.

You can’t protect him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.

You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.

One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.

Because you can’t help him.

And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.

And your heart breaks all over again.

The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.

You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.

“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.

“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.

And then his hand holding yours falls limp.

And with it, your heart does too.

You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.

You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.

You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.

Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.

Although you fear that probably not for much longer.

Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.

And then the door to the break room bursts open.

You look up and there Red Robin stands.

And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.

Tim.

Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.

Save him.

Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.

Even before him.

Your only solace being that he’s alive.

You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.

Jason is alive. He is okay.

After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.

He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.

But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.

But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.

However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.

Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.

Probably more the later than the former but still.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.

Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.

In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.

Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.

They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.

You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.

Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.

The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.

You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.

But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.

You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.

Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.

The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.

Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.

If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.

You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.

Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.

Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.

And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.

So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.

You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.

Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.

And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.

But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.

It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.

Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.

Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.

He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.

He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.

And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.

He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.

That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.

And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.

It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer. 

When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.

He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.

Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.

“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.

Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.

Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.

It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.

And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.

And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.

“Yeah.” He finally responds.

Great, Jason. Very eloquent.

No turning back now.

He gulps.

“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?

He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:

“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit. 

You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.

“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.

You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.

There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.

The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.

But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.

Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.

He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.

This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.

But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.

He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.

After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.

He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.

Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.

A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.

He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.

And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.

And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.

Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.

That’s you.

The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.

As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.

And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.

You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.

You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.

Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.

But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.

Because at least he was here.

And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.

His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.

So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.

And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.

And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.

And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.

And you know what?

He still was your Jason.

He still was the man that you were in love with.

Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.

Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.

And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong. 

No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.

Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.

You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.

You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.

You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.

Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.

And he should be treated just like one.

And that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.

You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.

Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.

And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.

From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.

He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.

And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.

Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.

But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.

He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.

“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.

Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.

You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.

Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.

“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.

“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.

“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.

You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.

“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.

“Jason, you don’t-”

“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.

Goosebumps raise all over your skin.

Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?

He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.

As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.

The question being, would it stand the storm?

You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.

“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”

“Jason, I-”

“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”

You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.

And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.

But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.

Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.

Not even himself.

And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.

You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.

You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.

You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.

You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.

And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.

So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.

It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.

A soft place to land, a warm embrace.

You think that you could die happily right now.

You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.

“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.

“I’m a mess.”

You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”

“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.

You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”

“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.

“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.

“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.

Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.

Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.

Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.

Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.

Except that now, you always patched him up.

Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.

And right now, you’re very confused.

Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.

You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.

“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.

“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.

Because there he is.

Jason Todd.

Your boyfriend.

You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.

You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.

He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.

Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.

He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.

God, he loves you so much.

Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.

He’s finally home.

Two weeks and a half is too long without you.

You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.

The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.

God, you love him so much.

You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.

The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.

And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.

It was a long time coming.

But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.

Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.

One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.

“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.

“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.

You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.

Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.

And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.

“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.

“Yeah. All good.”

Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.

“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.

“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.

“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.

“It’s okay.” You say.

“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.

“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?

“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.

“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.

“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.

“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.

Shivers run down your spine.

You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.

“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.

But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.

You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.

“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.

“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.

As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.

“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”

Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.

“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.

The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.

Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.

Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.

Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[sapphicmsmarvel]

the beginning of your life with Azriel

Tw: bad mental health mentioned. Mentioned r*pe and murder of said r*pist 

buckle in friends, we got a long one ahead of us. (long for me to write okay)

tropes: friends to lovers, taking care of future S/O, fluff to angst then back to fluff

When Azriel had met you, he had no idea just how important you would become to him. 

You were Feyre’s beautiful friend from the mortal world, a friend that was taken with her sisters. A friend that fought against Hybern every step of the way. A friend that drew blood from the High Lord of the Spring because he hurt Feyre and you knew the truth. You had smacked the shit out of Tamlin. 

So when your High Lady and High Lord asked you to be the Night Court’s Justice, you readily agreed. 

It was…nice to get that anger out on people that had harmed your loved ones. 

So you began training, you originally were training with just Cassian and Azriel, then when Nesta needed some outlet, you extended the offer to her. 

Well, it wasn’t really an offer. 

She was bitter towards you for it for the longest time. But she eventually, apologized to both you and Feyre for her bitter words, but you both obviously forgave her. 

You knew how bad shit had gotten when you were first turned. Bitter, angry, resentful. But instead you went to different coping mechanisms. You poured everything into helping others, to the point where you were neglecting yourself. Rhysand had pulled you out of it, but that’s a story for another day. 

(read about that here) 

Azriel saw the shift in you then, the day you killed your rapist and brought peace to the survivors. He watched as the pathetic man pleaded for forgiveness. 

Since then, as stated earlier, you began training so you’d be able to fight. When you became the night courts justice, you and him developed a partnership. You were work partners. You two only trusted each other completely unconditionally. It was a hard relationship to build. But after a year of countless missions where every single one was successful, it became pretty easy. 

Late nights eating in a dingy inn room. If you stayed in an inn room that had only one bed, he’d say he was going to take the floor but you eventually persuaded him to just climb into bed with you. 

You two never split up unless it was vital to the mission. You two trusted each other to do things on your own, but sometimes two was better than one. 

You learned the most intimate things about each other. How he doesn’t like when beds are too soft because it feels weird (from ya know sleeping on a dingy floor his whole youth). You can’t sleep unless you bathe every single day. You snore and talk in your sleep while he sleeps perfectly still like he’s laying in a casket. 

When you go on separate missions, he can’t sleep because he doesn’t know if you’re safe or not. You can’t sleep because you miss the brooding bat. 

You helped train the valkyries, hell, you were even taken to the blood rite. 

He had never been so nervous in his life during that time. You were his partner and he couldn’t be there to help you. Frankly, he’d call you his best friend. Rhysand and Cassian knew him extremely well, but you were something else to him entirely. 

The second he saw the four of you walk out, he was so relieved he nearly fell to the ground and thanked the mother. 

You guys had been close before the Rite, and now you were even closer. 

A lot of times, you tried to face your nightmares alone. However sometimes it was difficult so you’d walk to his room to sleep there. His body and shadows were so attuned to your movements that he never jumped when you crawled into the bed. He knew the second you opened the door that it was you. 

He can’t explain it, it was just a sixth sense. Like, you guys would be out and about and he would just know you were about to do some stupid shit with Cassian. 

He started realizing what he truly felt for you after the Blood Rite. How his heart felt lighter when you were in his sight. How he always chose to sit next to you, or be by you.

Cassian finally had enough, so did Feyre apparently because the both of them ambushed him one night, “so when are you finally asking Y/N out?” Cassian demanded.

Azriel looked like he got caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. “What?” 

“Feyre and I-”

“No, you dragged me here.” Feyre corrected her beloved brother in law. 

“Because you’re her best friend!” 

“Which means I shouldn’t be hearing this because I am legally obligated-”

“Legally?” Azriel questioned. “By Girl Law-“ She cut a look at Azriel who held his hands up in an “I surrender” position. She pointed at him. “This is shit I have to tell her if I hear it. So la la la la.” She plugged her ears and walked away.

Cassian shook his head at her retreating figure. “Crazy woman.” He looked back at his brother and smacked him on the chest. “You need to make a move!”

“What.” Az simply stated. 

“You. Need. To. Make. A. Move!” After each word, Cassian hit Azriel in the chest. 

Azriel swung at him to get him to stop. “Ack!” 

“She’s head over heels for you, idiot!” 

Azriel hesitated. “I don't think so.” 

“Dude, she literally smiles the biggest when she sees you come in the room. She always stays by your side, she constantly shares her food with you.” Cassian explained.

“She does that with everyone.”

“No! No she does not! I tried to take a roll from her yesterday and her fork almost impaled my hand.”

“Bread and butter is one of her favorite things. You’re an idiot for that.” Azriel deadpanned.

“See! Another thing, you two know each other as intimately as lovers.”

Eventually, he got Cassian to stop, but that night he just could not stop thinking about you. Your smile lights him up from the inside. Especially your genuine smile. The one where your gums are showing, your teeth, your nose scrunches and your eyes squint. 

He loves your laugh, it is the song his shadows dance to. You have variations that he memorizes as if they’re the chords to his favorite music. 

He groaned into his pillow, his shadows silently laughing at him as they saw their master lovelorn. 

Although, even they knew you had feelings for the shadow singer. Their master, while one of the deadliest in Prythian, was a moron. 

The feelings for each other didn’t get exposed until later. Much later. 

You two were on a deadly mission, one that even Rhys was worried to send you on. You had completed the task, but the cost? 

Your health. 

One of the arrows was poisoned. You couldn’t move a single muscle below your neck. You were tired. You just wanted a warm bath and snuggles with Azriel.

“Y/N, please stay awake.” Azriel clutched your cheeks. “The healer is on her way. She’s running to you, baby. Please stay awake.” 

You felt water drop onto your face, you looked up at the sky wondering when it had begun to rain. 

It hadn’t. Your friend, your partner, was crying. 

“I love the stars.” You whispered. “My favorite one is right in front of me.”

“Yeah? Which constellation is that?” His voice was gravelly. He sniffed.  He looked up then back at you, as if the idea of letting you out of his sight would seal your fate.

“You. You are my constellation. You are my galaxy.” You whispered. “If I'm going to die, I want you to know that.” 

“You’re not going to die.” 

“We don’t know that.” You said. “I wish I could move my hand, so I could touch you.” 

“I’m right here.” His hands were on your face. 

“No, I want to hold your hand.” You whimpered. 

He looked taken aback but abided by his dying love's wish. He held your hand tightly. 

“If I am your galaxy, you are my moon.” He put your foreheads together. All you could see was the hazel of his eyes. “You ground me. You keep me in rhythm. You are my constant companion. And I vow, you will survive this and we will be together, okay? You are my strength, my salvation and you will live.”

Your eyes slipped closed right as the healer reached you. 

——————-

When you awoke, you felt a presence next to you. You looked to the side through your groggy eyes and saw Azriel laying next to you. His hand was still intertwined with yours.  His shadows dancing around your bodies. They got visibly excited when you awoke. 

One shot towards your face as if to cradle it and your hand that wasn’t holding Azriels, shot up in reflex. It twirled around your fingertips. 

You could move again. 

Azriel’s eyes shot open, they were incredibly bloodshot. “Oh love.” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by all of Feyre’s abilities at once.” You groaned. “Throw Rhys in there too. And you and Cassian.” You sighed. “Frankly, it feels like everybody hit me with their full powers.”

“The Healer, Tatiana, said you’d feel that way.” He stroked your hand. “Completely normal for the dose of poison you received. She even threw in five bottles of the antidote and instructions for us to give to Madja, so our home healer has information.”

You sighed. “Anything for this pain?”

“No. Nothing will help. You just have to ride it out.” He looked depressed giving you that news.

But you couldn't hide how you felt. How much pain you were in. You were safe enough with Az to crumble your walls.

And that’s when your tears started. “It hurts so bad.” You whimpered. 

“I know.” He brushed them away. “Rhysand is sending a carriage to transport you back home. I was told not to risk winnowing or flying. It’ll be here tomorrow morning, I assumed that you’d want to go home as soon as possible.”

“What if I didn’t wake up now?”

“We still would’ve transported you. I want to keep you comfortable. Tatiana says there is little risk of your sutures opening from where you were shot. Plus, she says the effects of poison won’t flare up after 12 hours and we hit that about five hours ago. So you’re pretty much on track to recovery. We’re just taking a carriage to minimize the risk of you bleeding out or vomiting all over a city. Cause guess what? that’s a symptom too.”

“Fucking shit.” You said leaning against the pillow. “Where are we?”

“An Inn, Esther the inn owner found us in the woods and ran back to get a town healer. She won’t let me pay at all.” He seemed kind of pouty about that. “But I’m gonna try again tomorrow.”

He brushed your hair back. “Are you hungry?”

“Eh.” Was all you said, and then. “Bread and butter sounds nice right now.” 

He snorted and you cried indignantly. “Hey I am ill-“

“Oh relax. I’ve already prepared for this.” He squeezed your hand and got up. 

When he let go of your hand and you’d be damned if you showed how sad you were about that. 

You were pouting. 

He used a knife to slice open some rolls and put them by the lit fire. “I know you like warm bread and cold butter but you’ll have to settle for room temperature butter.” 

He brought you over a plate and glass of water. The bread was even spread with an unholy amount of butter. Just the way you like it. 

He got you set up against the headboard. You downed the glass of water and he quickly gave you a refill. After your belly was full and you felt a bit better, you looked over at him. 

“So you wanna talk about what I said when I was….” You trailed off. 

“Did you mean it?” He whispered. 

“Yes!” You whispered enthusiastically back. “Az, since the very first day I met you I have had a crush on you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes!” You cried, your head hitting the headboard. “Gods, Cassian and Feyre wouldn’t let me breathe about it. Same with Nesta.” 

“I didn’t know.” Azriel said. 

“I know.” You sighed. “I’m sorry if me saying that stuff on my deathbed pressured you into saying anything.” “It didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “I have been infatuated with you for far longer than I ever knew.” He clutched your hand again. “I found you beautiful as a mortal, endearing. But when you were turned, it amazed me that you somehow became ethereal. You were so angry that you smacked Tamlin with your nails. You made him bleed. When he snarled at you, I was ready to jump in. But Feyre beat me to it.” He smiled, a bit sadly. 

“When you went to the Rite, I knew you could do it. Yet, I felt fear that I haven’t felt in a long time. When I saw you, I almost lost it right then. Confessed everything.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don't think I can handle your rejection.” He whispered. 

“I will never reject you, Az.” You clutched your joined hands. “You are everything I've ever wanted. Ever needed. I would be honored if you’d accept me-“

“I already have.” He whispered looking at you. 

You put your hand against his cheek and pulled him to you. Your lips met and it was everything you’d ever wanted. All your fears and love were put into that kiss. 

You knew you both would be okay, as long as you had each other. 

And right as you thought that, the mating bond snapped. 

——————————

[duhragonball]

Daima 08: Tamagami

"Hey, you! Let's fight."

"Them's fightin' words!"

The first six minutes of this episode is just an all-out battle between Goku and Tamagami No. 3. I'm tempted to just say "They have a cool fight" and move on to the rest of the episode, but that feels like a disservice to the action. So I'm going to try to do a blow-by-blow description of the fight, if only to practice writing action scenes.

All right, so we start where the last episode left off, with the Tamagami asking Goku if he seeks the Dragon Ball in his chest, and Goku says he does and they start fighting. Tamagami raises his big hammer and charges Goku, who leaps away before the hammer smashes into the grounder where he was standing.

The Tamagami takes five more swings at Goku, and misses each time as Goku dodges just before impact. Then Goku jumps up onto the big rocks in the air. I think this is the debris Tamagami kicked up from hitting the ground so hard, but the Third Demon World has floating "islands" of land in the sky, so for all I know these could have been floating there before the fight began. Anyway, Goku bounces off a few of them and then launches himself back down at the Tamagami trying to hit hm with his Nyoibo. But the Tamagami blocks Goku with his big right hand. The Tamagami follows up with a spin kick and knocks Goku away.

Goku uses his Nyoibo to brake his motion along the ground. Then he braces one end in the ground and extends the Nyoibo right at Tamagami's face as he's charging towards Goku. Tamagami manages to dodge with only inches to spare, and since this stops his charge, he throws his hammer at Goku instead.

Goku dodges the hammer again, but Tamagami has the power to summon it back to him, like Thor, so the hammer flies back at Goku as he rushes to attack Tamagami. But Goku senses it coming and gets on top of the hammer to ride it back to Tamagami. This doesn't accomplish much, but it does keep the Tamagami on the defensive. He gets his hammer back and knocks Goku aside, but Goku's right back on him before he can really get any new offense going. Goku strikes his leg with the Nyoibo, then Tamagami's right hand as he tries for a grab, and then Goku runs down the length of his right arm as he prepares to strike Tamagami's head.

But Tamagami stops Goku using the handle of the hammer instead. That's clever, because at first I just took it as a way to add some variety to the action, but it's more than that. Goku had been dodging the business end of the hammer this whole time, and it's not hard to see why. Its so enormous that it's easy to watch. By attacking with the other end, Tamagami can trick Goku into thinking he's out of position for another swing, when in fact he's not planning to swing the hammer at all. And the end of the handle is huge too, but it's not nearly as big an impact. Goku blocks it and has to back off, but that's about all.

Tamagami swings the hammer around in a circle and it turns out Goku's clinging to the surface of it like he's hiding or just hanging on for dear life. Finally Tamagami appears to fling him off the thing so maybe that's all he was trying to do. The tactical consideration becomes clearer now. Tamagami can hit really hard with that hammer, but he needs Goku in a certain range to land a hit. I he's too close then the hammer doesn't do much good, and if Goku's too far away, Tamagami can't reach him.

On the other hand, Goku is so quick and agile that Tamagami can't land a good hit even when he has Goku in range. And Goku's a lot more versatile as well. He can attack at any range, and he can dodge the hammer at will. His only real disadvantage so far is that his offense doesn't seem to hurt Tamagami that much, and he can't attack very often because he's constantly watching out for the hammer.

Tamagami goes for another hammer strike and Goku zips between Tamagami's legs, slips behind him, and strikes Tamagami's right knee with the Nyoibo. Then he hits the left leg and tries a third strike on Tamagami's head when he collapses. But Tamagami is ready for this and blocks the Nyoibo with the handle of his hammer once again. He swats Goku away, but it looks like Goku didn't catch all of Tamagami's fist, so he's still on his feet when he lands.

They charge each other and their weapons collide in the middle. Despite the great size of Tamagami and his weapon, Goku's still able to hold him back with his Nyoibo and his teeny little kid body. They separate, and then Tamagami continues attacking with his hammer, and we cut to the townsfolk gathering around to see the fight. Panzy is impressed, and the Supreme Kai observes that Goku has already acclimated to the heavier air of the Demon Realm.

Back to the fight, Goku is backing off, and Tamagami uses his hammer to kick up some debris, and Goku deflects it with the Nyoibo. This appears to set him up for Tamagami to charge into him, hammer-first. I think Goku would have dodged that earlier, but here he's got too many oncoming projectiles. Tamagami drives Goku through a hill, but it doesn't seem to slow Goku down, and he continues dodging hammer strikes.

Then Goku leaps onto the hammer as Tamagami brings it down, hops over Tamagami and heads off into the other direction. He flies into a narrow crevice in a hill, uses the Nyoibo to stop himself and flip around to go back the way he came, but when he comes out of the crevice, Tamagami launches his hammer at him again and Goku is pinned between the hillside and the hammer.

Now we see Tamagami holding out his hand, and it looks like he can apply greater force to the hammer even from a distance, and Goku's straining to hold it back. At last, he turns it to one side with the Nyoibo, and as he does we see his eyes turning green, and it's time for Super Saiyan Goku.

The hammer got knocked away during Goku's transformation, so Tamagami summons it back to strike him from behind, but Goku does a sick backflip over it as it approaches, and he whacks the handle off while he's in mid-leap. They just stare at each other for a minute, and then Goku puts his Nyoibo away all cool and stuff, and Panzy thinks he's about to surrender, I think. But we know better.

Goku calls for them to fight seriously, and the Tamagami agrees. They stare down for a while, and then the broken hammer settles on the ground, and they start going at it, like that was the signal to begin. Very cool. Nice touch.

Tamagami leaps at Goku in the air and tries a punch, but Goku blows it with one hand, then kicks Tamagami to the ground. He advances on Tamagami, who begins firing some sort of energy blasts. I almost said "ki", and maybe that's what this is, but no one in the Demon Realm seems to know what ki is, so let's just call it "energy blasts" for now.

Goku seems annoyed to learn he can do this, but it doesn't slow him down much. He slips around Tamgami, kicks him in the right leg, and fires his own ki blast at his back, but Tamagami swats it away, then crosses his arms over his face to defend against a ki barrage.

Goku flies in to punch, but Tamagami blocks him. Goku flies around behind him, but Tamagami blocks again. Tamagami tries a punch, but Goku dodges and goes back around to his front and shoots ki blasts. Tamagami deflects those too. Tamagami tries to kick Goku, who dodges, goes behin him, and Tamagami tries to stomp him. No good, Goku 's back around to the front. Tamagami leaps up to swing his arm at Goku, but misses again. Goku zips around a bit and then goes in for a divekick but Tamagami blocks. Tamagami swats him away and Goku fires a ki barrage again.

Tamagami starts firing back with big red energy blasts from his right plam. Goku avoids these, but he's back on the defensive, and it seems like it's all he can do to run along the side of this old wall that surrounds the Tamagami site it looks like there used to be a fort here once.

Anyway, Tamagami starts charging up some big attack, and he even has a steam whistle sound like Majin Buu. Goku sort of hops around him like he's not sure what he wants to do, or maybe he's waiting to see how things play out. Then Tamagami plants both hands on the ground and shoots a bunch of energy down, which breaks up the ground all around him. I'm not sure what that was supposed to do, other than maybe throw Goku off-balance.

Instead, Goku just finds a spot and starts setting up a Kamehameha. The Tamagami sees this and quickly sets up another blast. It looks like it's gonna be a classic beam struggle, but instead Goku's shot rips right through Tamagami's and it pushes him across the battlefield. Tamagami ends up caught between a cliffside and the Kamehameha, and he seems like he might be able to hold it back a little longer, but then Goku turns up the juice and this added pressure is too much for Tamagami. He manages to deflect the blast, but only by sending it straight up. It must tire him out too, because he just lays there face up as the Kamehameha explodes in the air. And then Goku lands right on his belly and knocks the wind out of him.

Goku immediately hops clear and readies himself for more combat. By now he's transformed again into a Super Saiyan 2, but I'm not sure when he did that. Maybe when he amplified the Kamehameha, or maybe he did this after the Kamehameha, because he knew he would need to escalate the fight if Tamagami was strong enough to deflect it.

But there's no need. The Tamagami stands up, then collapses, and admits defeat. Goku thinks he can still continue, but the Tamagami insists that there's no need to continue, as he now understands Goku's power. Goku wins.

So Goku gets the Three-Star Dragon Ball, right? Not quite. The Tamagami tells him they need to have one final battle first, and no one knows what this could mean since no one's ever gotten this far against the Tamagami before, ever.

They head for the spot where the Tamagami had been standing in Episode 7, and the Tamagami sets up five cups. He plucks the Dragon Ball out of his chest and hides in in a cup, then shuffles them around. If Goku can correctly guess where the Dragon Ball is, he gets to take it.

No one explains what would happen if Goku guesses wrong. I mean, he already defeated the Tamagami, so I suppose Goku could just challenge him all over again, win, and then get another try at the shell game? Panzy observes that this is a little cheap, since they just had an all-out battle. The Supreme Kai suggests that this is still a battle, so maybe this is a test of some kind.

So Tamagami shuffles really fast, and the Supreme Kai admits that he could follow along, but only briefly. As for Goku, he says that the Dragon Ball isn't in any of the cups, but instead it's floating over the head of one of the demon bystanders. Tamagami somehow snuck it over there during his shuffle, and no one but Goku could see him do it.

The Tamagami is impressed, and he presents Goku with the Dragon Ball and reassembles his broken hammer. He resumes his pose on the pedastal and says he likes Goku for being a fair fighter. Then he wishes him luck against the other two Tamagami. Goku gives him a cute little bow of respect, and then he turns to face the adoring crowd.

After the fight, Glorio cals Dr. Arinsu to report on their progress. Arinsu is pleased to hear things are going so smoothly, but then she decides to continue work on her "main" plan.

Glorio sets course for Warp, so they can continue their quest in the Second Demon Realm. He plans to take the backroads, because he expects news of Goku's victory to spread quickly, and King Gomah's goons will be looking for them.

Meanwhile, in the First Demon World, Gomah and Degesu are reviewing footage from the Buu Saga again. I'm not sure what they're looking for, but they soon discover a mysterious figure present at the site of the battle between Majin Buu and Vegeta. On closer inspection, it turns out to be Dr. Arinsu, collecting… something from the crater where Vegeta exploded.

I think it's pretty clear that she was taking a sample of Buu's body before he could reassemble himself, but Gomah and Degesu can't seem to figure that out, so maybe there's more to this than I realize. I've never quite understood how something like this would even work. I mean, on paper it's a good idea, but all of the other pieces of Majin Buu's body woke up and reassembled, so I would think the piece she took would eventually regenerate into a full-sized Majin Buu.

I'm pretty sure this is how Android 21 was created too. Someone got a sample of Buu an used it in her design, and then she used another Buu sample to make all the Kid Buu doppelgangers you have to fight in the Fighter Z story mode. Also there's the matter of that shirt Super Buu ripped off and threw away after he thought he beat Vegito. I'm pretty sure that's also a piece of Majin Buu, which could be harested for making new monsters or whatever, but wouldn't it just grow back on its own to make another Buu?

Well, Dr. Arinsu put her sample in a little flask, so maybe she knows certain techniques to keep that from being a problem. And if she can pull this off, then maybe Android 21's creator had something similar to work with.

The thing is, Gomah seems much more troubled by the fact that Arinsu knew about the Majin Buu crisis well before Gomah and Degesu found out about it. Like, she was literally there when it went down, however briefly. Back in episode 1, the Warp fishes told Gomah that soneone else had gone to Earth "recently", and it turned out to be Arinsu, and now we know when and why. Gomah suspects Dabura must have told her about Buu before, and that's how she knew to come here. I assume he means "before Dabura got taken over by Babidi," which implies that Dabrua knew about Babidi's plot before he got mind controlled. Maybe he was trying to stop Babidi before and he got flipped to the other side.

But Gomah has no idea what Dr. Arinsu was doing on Earth, which I find curious. I mean, it seems obvious that she's trying to make her own Majin Buu, right? Maybe Gomah lacks the imagination to think anyone would want to try that. He was pretty scared of Buu before, and he seems pretty confident of his own power and plan, so maybe he can't envision someone taking such a dangerous risk when he wouldn't need to.

Meanwhile, the present-day Arinsu consults with another demon, Marba. She's some kind of old witch who has a cool witch house with potions and cauldrons and such. She also has a familiar "M" symbol on her stuff. She tastes her latest concoction and says the fragment of Majin Buu "really brings the flavor together." This rules. Marba is awesome.

They take the pot outside, and I guess this is the next step of the process. Arinsu complains that Marba's previous attempt failed, and the Majin she created from it couldn't even beat Dr. Arinsu herself. But Marba is optimistic about this one because it has the essence of Buu in it. They won't know for sure until it's done, though. Still Marba thinks it should be fine.

Arinsu is skeptical, because she understood that Marba was the witch who created the original Majin Buu in the first place. Marba plays dumb, and says that Bibidi created Buu, which was the original DBZ lore. But Arinsu knows the truth: All Bibidi did was come to Marba and ask her to make Buu for him.

After that, Buu threw the whole Demon Realm into chaos. The Glinds went to the outside world, and some were killed, so I guess that's why Marba isn't eager to take credit for Buu's creation. But Arinsu promises to keep her secret.

That seems to assure Marba, and she admits that Buu was a fluke, and hardly a success, because he was uncontrollable. But Marba's been working on improving controllability in her creations, so she thinks this new project will be powerful and obedient. Marba asks Arisu to add a sample of her own saliva to the mix, which will make the Majin more obedient. Arinsu does it, and her loogie make the potion all green and stuff.

I love this. The idea of Majin Buu being a potion some creepy old witch mixed up in a pot is awesome, and now we see her whipping up another one! It's great.

Marba expects a reward for this work, and Arinsu expects she can produce one once this new Majin helps her become the new Demon King. Marba thinks it's unwise to underestimate Gomah, but Arinsu has another card to play: the Dragon Balls. Marba can't believe it, but Arinsu already has one secured, and two more one the way.

Meanwhile, Hybis is still bringing Bulma, Piccolo, and Vegeta to meet with Goku's group, but King Kadan calls to inform them of Goku's victory over the Tamagami. So Goku's heading back to Warp, so Hybis can turn around and wait for him there. He tells Hybis to take the group to a hotel and get a good meal. Hybis wants mud-colored wine, a drink that looks and tastes like mud.

Vegeta wants to know more about the Demon Realm's Dragon Balls, but Hybis ignores him because he's not even a king and yet he's too rude to say "please". Vegeta says "please" and he is suitably nettled over this.

So this was a great episode, maybe even better than the first episode, which was a pretty strong opening to the series. The show built up to the Goku/Tamagami fight, made us want it, and then overdelivered. I especially like that it was six minutes and change of nonstop action, easy to follow, and with a clear and unambiguous outcome. The only time the show cut back to the onlookers was to show us that there were onlookers, and that even the Supreme Kai was impressed with Goku's performance under these conditions. And everyone was awed by the Kamehameha, which is only proper for the first one of the series.

And then the episode kept going! The Tamagami's shell game seemed a bit odd, but it was a good way to cool down after such a big fight. I don't think anyone seriously doubted that a fighter capable of defeating Tamagami would fail to spot the Dragon Ball, but it emphasizes Goku's worthiness as a hero. And the scene didn't overstay its welcome or try to force any corny jokes onto the audience.

The stuff with Arinsu and Marba is awesome. We not only get a clear idea of what Arinsu is up to, but how she plans on doing it. Gomah's onto her, but he doesn't know enough to really stop her, at least not yet. And Marba is a fantastic addition to the show. This series has been presented as a direct continuation of the Buu Saga, but this is the first time we've realy gotten any follow up on Majin Buu himself. Now we finally meet his true creator, and unlike Bibidi, she's a living, breathing character with her own motives and ambitions. I'm a bit disappointed now that Majin Buu seems to be left behind on Earth. Everyone keeps talking about him in the past tense, but he was still hanging around with Mr. Satan as recently as Episode 2. I wonder what Marba would think of him.

For years, Buu's origin story has confused me, because there were always two versions. In the manga, Bibidi was clearly stated to have created Majin Buu, but later sources indicated that Buu was some sort of primordial being who had existed for millions of years, acting as some sort of agent of destruction in the universe. In this scenario, Bibidi didn't create Buu so much as he summoned him from this ancient primordial state to do his bidding. I think Toriyama himself put this forth in an interview, but I don't understand why he said this, unless he wanted to establish Bibidi wasn't the creator without giving away any plans for a new character who deserved the credit.

It's also possible that Marba is the one who discovered the primordial Buu and converted it into something Bibidi could use. Or maybe Toriyama finally decided that there should be a straightforward Buu origin: Marba created him on commission and now she's making another one. I'm interested to see what else we learn about her and her methods.

I'm also hoping for some clarification on the "Majin/Demon" terminology. So far, it seems like Daima is using "Majin" and "Demon" interchangeably. It's possible that "Majin" is a subset of Demons, distinct from other races like Nameks or Glinds. But "Majin" also seems to be the term for Buu and other characters like him, such as his descendants serving in the Time Patrol in the Xenoverse games. In this episode of Daima, Arinsu notes that she's skilled in magic and science, but even she couldn't create a Majin the way Marba can. So the implication is that Buu is just as much a demon as Dabura or Glorio or Panzy, but he's an artificial Majin generated through Marba's talents. I'm curious to see what that means.

[fantastical-euphoria]

this was me at a one direction concert back in 2014. had myself a blast (besides the last half bucketing down rain). little did i realize just how much this band was going to shape my life, and my tenure on this wonderful place called the internet.

i became massively obsessed over all the boys, harry especially. i thought they were always wonderful people, sunshine and happiness all around. just straight up good people.

i always put my faith in harry, louis, and niall. fan testimonies were off the charts, always stating how amazing they were. zayn i questioned for only a time, but i know now that i was reading too much into it and the golden rule has always been to never fully trust anything you read on the internet. i’m wary of this and have been a sceptic in many, many cases/articles.

now, what i never questioned or considered was liam. he was kind of a wild card for me. i initially thought that he, too, had the same wonderful lovely demeanor as the rest of the boys. they’re british lads, young, so typically you’d stereotype them as innocent charming bucks that are too easy to fall head over heels over.

just these past couple years, that image i had formerly painted for liam has since been tarnished. i feel safe in saying that liam did it to himself. he was the igniter of his own downfall. it wasn’t the fans. *it wasn’t maya.* did his former management and current management play some type of role in it? possibly and probably.

still, i’ll echo what millions of others are typing at the moment, this was far too sudden, far too soon. i didn’t expect any of what was being published on the internet to get to his head that fast, let alone that much. the mental toll that this, *all* this, has taken on him, coupled with addiction torment that he has clearly been battling for a few good years now, is probably the most lethal combo out there. it can lead to what the articles were describing. aggression. that’s not the liam that so so many of us knew. it was the drugs. it was the alcohol. it was the mental drainage. still, we know that the past cannot be erased and his actions are still irreversible, and abuse/assault can never be forgiven.

i cannot imagine the weight that’s setting in on his whole family, and his young son who now has to grow up without a father figure in his life. i cannot imagine how his management is feeling right now. but most importantly of all, i cannot imagine how the boys are feeling. they just lost a brother. they will always remember/commemorate him as their lifelong brother. i cannot even BEGIN to imagine them in tuxes at liam’s funeral… if they even decide to show up. i highly doubt zayn or harry will. if anyone, louis and/or niall, because they’ve been the more actively and vocally supportive of him. i expect all of them to post at least some little thing about this, however, knowing their history of being respectful.

as the days, months, weeks, and years pass, we are slowly watching this grim reality of a disintegrating childhood and, at least for me, teenage-hood unfold before our eyes. this definitely has been one of the more devastating blows. as much as i somewhat anticipated it… i never expected it to come so soon.

i know the fact that this will never become a reality will forever haunt us. if one direction hasn’t been scarred enough in their tenure, this will definitely feel like a gaping gunshot wound.

i’m still reeling, and i’m still processing this. for those who have checked in on me, thank you. for those that i’ve checked on, understand that i’ll still be here, with a hand extended, and an ear to listen. we’re all in this together, grieving over such a devastating loss, not just to the one direction community/fanbase, but to the entire world. liam touched a lot of people, not just fans.

if you have any further thoughts on this, feel free to sound off in the comments. this is a safe space for everybody. ❤️

[ckret2]

To be honest, it seems so impossible to picture billford actually happening right now. I trust you! But it's hard to envision the path ahead.

I'm not gonna lie the reason it took me months & months to commit to taking the fic that route is because I didn't want to go "no yeah I'm doing this" until I was sure I did have a path, and it is hard to envision lmfao. It's a very twisty and very narrow path that they're only gonna just barely squeeze through.

Without giving any spoilers, as far as I see it, any reconciliation between Ford & Bill—platonic or romantic—requires three things:

a reason for Ford to stop fearing Bill

a reason for Ford to stop hating Bill

a reason for Ford to like Bill.

We don't need anything on Bill's side, he's all prepared to like Ford as soon as Ford likes him. All he has to do is, y'know, give Ford all of those reasons.

#3 is the easiest one! Ford already has reasons to like Bill: they're all of the reasons he used to like Bill. He's an alien with infinite knowledge. That's great. But Bill could give Ford a million reasons to like him and they won't do a bit of good as long as Ford hates him. If you stab someone in the gut and give them a flower, you stabbed them in the gut. If you stab someone in the gut and give them an entire field of flowers, you still stabbed them in the gut. It's actually more insulting to get flowers than it would've been to just get stabbed. Gotta do something about the stabbing.

#1 was also pretty easy to figure out. All it takes is trapping Bill in a scenario where he's forced to demonstrate he no longer wants to kill the Pines, in a way that makes it impossible to think that it could have been an act or a lie. Easy.

#2 is the only hard part. Ford has a lot of very good reasons to hate Bill forever. Why would he even want to stop hating Bill? And that's the key:

4. a reason for Ford to WANT to stop hating Bill

The hardest and MOST IMPORTANT part. A reason for Ford to go, fine. One last shot. If you want me to think anything is different, then show me—and no more chances to slip up. He can still hate Bill at this point! Bill still has to climb that mountain. But now Ford's simply standing at the top of the mountain glaring at Bill with his arms crossed, waiting to see if he can make it to the top, rather than using a long stick to shove Bill back down every time he gets close.

Let's talk about redemption arcs!

There's a thing I believe about redemption arcs and redemption in general, which is that saying "they shouldn't get a second chance unless they deserve it" is impossible. "Deserve it" means they're good now, "deserve it" means they've already done the work to improve themselves and make amends for what they did wrong. But in the real world, somebody needs to give you a second chance BEFORE you deserve it in order to have space to work on yourself and become worthy of it.

That doesn't mean Ford, of all people, owes Bill a second chance. He was never gonna be the first to offer Bill a hand. He couldn't be, he shouldn't be. And nobody owes Bill a second chance—but in order for it to be possible for Bill to have a redemption arc at all, SOMEBODY had to give him one anyway. The whole fic is the result of people extending a hand to Bill so that he can become worthy of the help he was offered. He wouldn't be alive if the Axolotl hadn't given him a second chance. He'd still be curled up in the corner of the attic day after day waiting to die if Mabel hadn't given him a second chance. Over and over he's gonna get chances he doesn't deserve, from people who have no reason to offer them, when he regrets nothing, when he's apologized for nothing—and that's what will save him.

SOMEBODY ELSE had to offer Bill an unconditional second chance first. But—once Ford has seen that Bill might have potential—he can, if he wants, offer Bill a limited, conditional second chance. I just have to get him to want to.

After that it's smooth sailing. Get the two of them as far as "okay we can attempt having a positive relationship again" and past that it really doesn't matter what kind of positive relationship it is, platonic, romantic, sexual, whatever. "Do you think they might wanna bone or not?" is a much less important and much less difficult question than "What would it take for Ford to stop despising the triangle who ruined his life?"

Personally, I want 'em to make out nasty style. But that's far and away the least important part of this whole arc, because it was important to me that that not be a motivating factor in their reconciliation. Like I've said, I'm deliberately playing on hard mode here, and "I'm kinda sorta motivated to forgive him because I'm attracted to him" is a cheat I'm not allowing. I'm too ace to tolerate that kind of plot unless it's in a story about the frustrating folly of desire. The attraction can only come after reconciliation; and it also won't prevent them from continuing to have the kind of ongoing issues you'd expect out of two guys with a long history of heartless betrayal and murder attempts.

[sunbeamedskies]

Radical Compassion/Innocence

For the past many years, I don’t feel like I’ve done enough to embody the radical compassion and empathy that are part of my life’s goals

I’ve always been compassionate, but I’ve become too lost in the pain of the world and my own bullshit from time to time

There have been moments when the hopelessness of some issues started closing parts of my heart. I think it’s a defense mechanism when it’s left wide open and horrific things begin to cloud your perspective. Though I know this is fairly common, I don’t want it to happen again

It was a lot easier to get a firm hold on fostering radical compassion before my on and off depression began long ago. I understand to go easy on myself due to it, and that self-care and self-love for our less-than-great moments is also an important facet of radical compassion. However, I really aim to do better in the future no matter what emotional state I’m in

Isn’t it strange how much unconditional love is given so freely to those we deem innocent or frail? Babies, the elderly, and the ill are all treated with the reverence more of humanity should be blessed with regularly. I’ve always found it sad how many can’t extend this increased empathy to their fellow humans who are in different stages of life, especially as everyone struggles and seeks to preserve parts of themselves they see as innocent throughout the process of growing up. Perhaps some who succumb too much to judgement and hatred can use how they view the innocent and the frail as a tool to foster compassion for others beyond what they’re used to

Finding the innocence beneath the ego can be difficult, but it still resides in the majority of us. I can feel it in many of my passions and in the presence of animals and nature. I strongly believe at the core of everyone is pure love obscured by the mess of human life. Due to this, I avoid disliking people as a whole as often as possible. Instead, I dislike some aspects of them while appreciating others. Some people become so far removed from the love they were born as that I end up disliking them, and that’s perfectly fine. It’s unhealthy- and can even be dangerous- to cling to whatever shred of good you believe might still be lying dormant in select people. But as a general rule, it can be a great exercise in empathy to acknowledge both the positive and negative in others instead of placing them into black and white categories

That doesn’t mean I’m never going to be snarky or sarcastic- I love those parts of myself and use them to point out absurdities which can bolster empathy in others

So if I ever tell you to go fuck yourself- it’s out of love :)

J

[hrodvitnon]

Imagine if, because of their upbringing with Rodan and extended family members like Mothra, Godzilla, Viv and San, etc. , as well as never having to worry about food like the average wild skullcrawler has to, Keeta reaches the peak of their species and becomes an alpha titan once they reach adulthood. And at the same time, after growing up watching and hearing of how Godzilla and Mothra would protect the world's balance, they get inspired to have a similar ambition of their own:

Redeem the skullcrawlers as a whole and break the vicious cycle they're all stuck with. Because if Keeta can be good, then what's stopping the rest of their kind from becoming beneficial to the world as well? If skullcrawlers are inherently evil, then logically, Keeta shouldn't exist at all, but here they are. They know that it won't be easy to do, but that doesn't mean it's impossible, and that if they don't try, then no one else will.

Rodan would be very cautious for Keeta's safety, but is ultimately supportive of their goals. Viv, Godzilla, and Mothra would be in the same boat as Rodan. San would be very sympathetic with Keeta's goal there, seeing that he was also similarly judged as inherently evil just because he was part of Ghidorah, and would want Keeta to succeed with that.

And then there's Kong, who definitely won't be pleased at all if he ever finds out about this, especially if Keeta already has a small but very loyal pack (which has steadily increasing members over time) by the time he's heard of it. He (wrongfully) thinks that Keeta has finally become the threat he always feared they will become once they reached adulthood, and that he will watch his tribe of apes be slaughtered by skullcrawlers all over again. If it weren't for Suko constantly trying to convince him otherwise, he would've declared war on Keeta and their pack (as well as all skullcrawlers in general) right then and there.

Though even then, Kong would definitely look for even the smallest reason to start exterminating skullcrawlers once again if he ever gets the chance to do so. And Suko is afraid of what Kong's inability to let go of the past is doing to him, because at the moment, the way Kong would look and speak of Keeta (and skullcrawlers in general) with pure hatred is all too uncomfortably familiar with how the Skar King would look and speak of when it came to the surface world.

Keeta has a good ambition, apparently enough to gain a pack of loyal Skullcrawlers, though I wonder just how effective they are at redeeming their own species considering Keeta is a unique specimen, having been genetically altered by Apex to not suffer the huge metabolism natural to 'crawlers and presumably the nastier effects of this, on top of being raised with care and love. Unaltered Skullcrawlers if left unchecked could wipe out Skull Island's ecosystem, after all.

Of course, maybe Keeta doesn't realize just how different they are compared to the average 'crawler, but it doesn't stop them from trying anyway; they naturally sympathize with their own species and feel bad for how skeletal and unhealthy normal 'crawlers look, so it's only natural that they want to enact positive change no matter the difficulty.

Kong's own inability to let go could pave the way for a dangerous obsession with rendering the Skullcrawlers extinct. It ultimately stems from a place of trauma, which is understandable, but his views on 'crawlers as nothing but mindless and evil monsters means he doesn't see anything wrong with planning horrific actions, like forcing Keeta to watch him rip a 'crawler apart with his bare hands and drench himself in its blood, which causes a lot of friction between him and Suko. Maybe Suko will stir up the guts to tell Kong flat out "how are you any different from Skar King?" only for Kong to coldly retort, "the difference is, I know that I am right."

[cerisezero]

I keep thinking about the times that someone has looked at the idea of writing their language and gone '…yeah no I'm gonna fix that' or 'yeah I want a piece of that action' and made it happen, for any reason. And I'm gonna make noises about it for a little bit. Maybe highlight a couple of things.

You've got King Sejong in Korea going "OK. The script we're using now is hella complex and …Chinese. I want something that's easy enough for a farmer to learn. And maybe to pay his taxes with." And he works out hangul, neat and logical and frequent winner of Best Writing System awards if such things exist. (And then the nobles don't like it because how are they supposed to look smart if the peasants can write too?)

You've got Sequoyah, thinking the settlers he's doing business with might have at least one good idea in this whole 'talking leaves' system they're using. So he throws himself into working out a syllabary that works for the Cherokee language even when his friends and family think he's losing the plot or he's possessed or… Anything. But he hangs in there. Teaches his daughter. Proves that this is something worth it, and goes on to see the syllabary he created become official and used throughout the Cherokee Nation.

These are the best known ones. But how many are there out there?

There are systems where a missionary or someone similar's come into a place, and gone 'hm, Latin ain't cutting it for writing this' - the Cree syllabics and their extended Canadian family fall into this box, though there's at least some accounts that dispute the usual story. (Given that a lot of those sort of stories come down to 'so we can make a Bible at these people', it's fair to put a big old asterisk on them, but… they're a thing.) Getting away from that issue, though? There's local creators making a bespoke system for their language when the ones they'd picked up from outside just don't fit the sounds or grammatical patterns. Writing systems that can really belong to a language and its people.

While it's absolutely not my place to say whether something is good or bad - the only people who can do that are the language users and community the script was made for - there can't help but be a few that catch the eye. For example, I'm quite fond of the Ditema tsa Dinoko script - it's a pretty recent creation from South Africa as a script for a wide range of Bantu languages, using compact triangular blocks in a way that reflects traditional patterns from Sesotho tradition. From my outside perspective, it's an elegant script. It's just one example, though - there's many creators in Africa who have done similar things, sitting down and making a script that their language needs and that isn't being shoved on them by… yeah. Vai and N'Ko are the biggest examples but there are so many! Moving on, in Oceania, we find the Avoiuli text from Vanuatu, designed so that any one character can be drawn with one stroke in the sand… and elsewhere, the scripts being created to use with signed languages which haven't used them in the past…

If I were to try and go into all of them, it'd be a whole essay. And I'd probably miss some as I'm an outsider nerd without access to the deep literature on some of this stuff. Instead, I'll link to The World's Writing Systems as an index to browse through - unfortunately, it doesn't allow searching by how the writing system was created. But there are plenty of indigenous scripts listed there too that deserve their own deep dive. (The fact it lists con-scripts specifically made for fiction… eh.) Their icon comes from the Afaka script, for the Ndyuka creole in Suriname. A lot of the letters are quite pictorial in nature - including the 'ka' in WWS's icon. Gotta say, that's a way to make things memorable.

…anyway, that's my ramble for today. Just gonna wrap with this source which I haven't fully investigated yet, and Endangered Alphabets which isn't so much for deliberately constructed scripts but (unsurprisingly) for endangered ones in general, and as such plain deserves a link.

Now I go back to my own scribbling. Maybe I'll finish a con-script enough to show off one day. Even if one rather smaller in goals.

[congregamus]

Just found a journal entry from almost 20 years ago where I'm still working on the same things. It's hard to know if it's because what little bit of help I get isn't great, or if the problem is that I'm fighting WHAT ACTUALLY IS rather than just my POV regarding that.

Everything Bad and Beautiful

(This is a reference to a Sandra Bernhard Concert Album)

I had a really hard day yesterday, so I took a mental health day from work today.

In my performance class, I get the opportunity to sing for Joyce DiDonato, the premiere Rossini mezzo-soprano of our generation. Since I'm having a hard time staying close to center right now,  I thought it wise to take care of myself so that I don't spiral further into confusion. But most of all, I want to have a positive musical experience in this class. There are tasks in the world that you don't need proper sleep and emotional stability to perform, but singing for an idol is not one that you can phone in.

So, I took the reins and am taking care of me.

I wanted to sing something new to help get my grad recital further on its feet, but in the interest of ensuring the good experience, I will sing something challenging, but something that I know very, very well. I have never sung this piece in class, so it's new to my classmates, but old hat to me. I learned a new song, but more importantly, I've learned some things applicable to my emotional well-being.

There are times to act, but there are also times when action is not advisable, but ignoring my own discomfort in any situation is never the right answer.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→When I was a kid, I was told, "Just suffer through it." I learned that my needs were not important. As the child of a bi-vocational minister, I learned that I came last. That anyone with a sniffle got the family's full attention, but by the time it was my turn, everyone was too tired to bother with me. I learned to say, "Of course" when I was asked, "Can it wait?" I learned that it truly could wait. Seemingly forever. I also learned that Christlike self-sacrifice was the greatest gift to offer the world. And don't forget that if it's easy to give, the act of giving means a whole lot less. Anyone can do what is convenient for himself. What you have to do is dig down deep to the point where you don't think you have any more left for yourself, because that's where Jesus is.

→Now, I'm starting to understand that no one really wants more of me than I have to give. Unconditional love extends to me, from myself as well. I've spent the last 15 years of my life running on empty.

I can't hide my feelings because I'm afraid that I won't be loved anymore. When I feel that I'm giving more than I honestly have to give, it makes me go into protection mode, and my inner light doesn't shine.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→If you show anyone who you really are, then you will not be loved, because that person is gay. And gays are not allowed. If you are honest and tell anyone that you're starting to wonder about all this stuff you're being force-fed, then you're going to be shut out of the lives of the people who are closest to you. So you should lie and keep doing what you're doing right now even though it's tearing you up inside. At least the world isn't rocked.

→Now I'm starting to apply in my relationships what I learned long ago. A world that can be rocked by truth-telling is a world that seriously needs rocked.

It is possible for me to stand up for myself without lashing out.

The "Truth" as I Learned It and the "Truth" as I Now See It:

→Matthew 5:9b "Blessed are the doormats." Once you've established yourself at the guy who loves being selfless and giving until it hurts, it's really hard to break that cycle. When you trudge ahead the way that I have, forcing down your own feelings because you want to avoid conflict at all costs with the people who mean the most to you, it becomes more and more difficult to merely state your feelings that may be "out of sync" without bringing up everything in the past that anyone has ever done to you that you didn't express in the first place. But it can be done.

→What I now know is that relationships have to be based in honest expression and have room for everyone's feelings. It is easy enough for me to include anyone else's. It is much harder for me to admit that there is room for my feelings as well.

Please be patient with me,  everyone. I'm learning a new skill, and I will fail at it as often as I succeed.

[notmuchtoconceal]

i liked shattered memories on the wii a lot when it came out.

the other western silent games didn't look interesting, cause they seemed to be trying to fill in lore details to appease a rational, linear sensibility, and i feel the intrigues upon intrigues and deep immersion in the esoteric which marks the storytelling of the original four is far more interesting for the ways it forces you to study and think for yourself.

i never liked things that spoon-fed me easy answers, like it was a cute lil bedtime story to make me stop asking questions and go to sleep.

the other western silent hill games looked like they only had a superficial understanding of what silent hill was about, y'know -- rust, grime, busty nurse monsters, adversarial platonic solids, and akira yamaoka oscillating between bouncy seductive vocal rock tracks and hard dissonant industrial soundscapes of infinitely unfurling pain.

shattered memories came out in a time before the reboot cycle had fully cemented itself as the norm and the phrase "reimagining" did not yet have to be sectioned off by the latent treachery of a scary airquote.

think at the time i still predominately assessed the worth of a story by how well it was fully explicable to the conscious.

i'm not sure why i arbitrarily decided this is what made for a good story. think young men just know they need to set standards for themselves to trick themselves into upholding their own values, but then wise young men become unwise by lacking understanding of their own motives and thinking their games need to extend to other people.

since that's how i felt about stories, and silent hill's story was about capturing the emotional experience of being a traumatized girl with a split psyche extensively gaslit and tortured by her overbearing witchcraft-practicing religious mother -- but like... you're experiencing it from her adopted dad's perspective who is a rational writer who very heartfeltly and passionately wanders around in a fog of obscurity being confused and lied-to and strung along ... it was too deep, bro.

there is a narrative here, and because it is fundamentally about the occult, you cannot engage with its mechanics directly, and so there are layers and layers of subjective emotional entanglement piled on-top, and to parse the structure you must parse the character, for the whole will only be revealed in the simultaneous mastery of its component parts.

so, at the time, the idea of telling a different story using the original silent hill's setting and characters, but with a different gameplay style and aesthetic ... something more in-keeping with the rational, conscious, therapeutic. that seemed more interesting to begin with, for it would seem to almost promise something more original, and ultimately it does.

truth is, i don't care what -- if any -- relation shattered memories might have to the original. metatextually, it makes perfect sense. cheryl is a woman now on her third life, her father is dead.

throw her in another backwards world. "the real world".

why is her therapist the kauffman character? why is the sleezy doc who got alessa's nurse hooked on dope now her shrink? why is he browbeating her so hard to listen to him at the end? throwing his drink and insisting she listen, insisting her mother isn't a monster?

is this capturing something of how cheryl's past medical experiences were all marked by manipulation and deceit to keep her shackled to her abuser? is this another man in another time who only shares a name earnestly pleading with a self-destructive girl to come out of her cocoon?

if the two share no relation whatsoever, what is implied, and what do we suggest, by the incidental feature of them sharing a name and face? we read forward into this, but should we also read this backward?

how can we not, when it posits itself as an "official" entry?

You know for yourself the world of a narrative is an imprinting of the mind of its maker. If there's a reality beyond the template which pressed it, those are secrets which inform what has been made and are mere tendrils of probability. When you are in the world of the narrative, you are bringing things to it, making it more real to you as you imprint on it.

What a corporation says doesn't mean anything.

It'll effect things like house style, how they regularize flavor text, what details they prioritize going forward -- until they find something better.

Why would a current property holder know more than the original maker? Why do you think it makes sense to normalize living in an alternate world where the foundational work of inspiration is now merely pseudo-canonical. To whom are you pledging your loyalty?

Does it please you to think of the status-quo as some splendid garden?

A decapitation there, an uprooting here.

We're all invested in the fun little violence of keeping things the same.

Sit there and think about how you can do violence ~

simply by choosing to do nothing at all!

[c-is-for-circinate]

Kind of want to toss more snippets of things that probably won't become long extended fics up onto tumblr. So: Eddie/Chrissy, with deeply bisexual ADHD disaster child Eddie, because we deserve it. (Also background hints of Steve/Nancy, but rest assured Eddie is 100% projecting and highly incorrect about that dynamic.)

Chrissy lives, through sheer dumb luck -- a tape shoved into a player out of some vague idea in the back of Eddie's mind that he could be smooth, could maybe help a pretty girl who for some godforsaken reason seemed to like him have a good time -- and it's great, it's incredible, it's more luck than any of them should've ever dared hope for--

And Eddie is thrilled, obviously. Terrified out of his mind, pretty sure he should be running for the hills, but. Chrissy Cunningham is alive, and for some bizarre, unfathomable reason, she seems to like him.

It's just...jesus christ, what is he supposed to do with that?

It's not that Eddie doesn't like girls. Girls are pretty, and smell good, and have curves in places he's maybe imagined putting his hands a time or two (thousand), and have generally starred in at least thirty to forty percent of his favorite jerk-off fantasies for the past several years. But the general class of females of approximately his own age in Hawkins, Indiana have heretofore been somewhat disinclined to follow up on Eddie's occasional flirtations, and somehow he doesn't think the other skill set is going to be much help here.

It's just...look. Eddie knows, he knows goddamn well that for ninety-nine point nine percent of guys like him, whose eyes skate over the slope of a gentleman's broad shoulders as readily as the swell of a lady's hips, that the easy road would mean playing straight for sixty-some-odd years, marrying a nice girl who doesn't ask too many questions, and maybe getting the occasional blowjob in a truck stop bathroom from a pretty boy you pretend you don't want half as much as you actually do. Of course he knows that. He's given those blowjobs, a lot more often than he's ever had a nice girl like Chrissy Cunningham look at him twice. Because that's the thing, isn't it, once again the Munson luck striking right at the heart of things. Once again, Eddie isn't like every other guy in Hawkins or Indiana or, fuck, the whole damn world probably. Can't just do things the normal way. Has to do everything opposite, and look where that's gotten him lately.

Truck-stop bathrooms are easy. The grit of them, the feel of cold tile through thin denim, the taste of latex and the smell of musk and sweat and come, a thick-fingered hand in his hair and the press of tight muscle under his fingertips, the rush of knowing that even on his knees, he's the one with the power here -- it's good. It's so good, the back rooms of that bar in Indy where one flash of his fake ID gets him an all-access pass to all the sex a boy could want, no strings attached. Slipping into that space is almost as easy, as natural, as slipping into the DM's seat at Hellfire. He doesn't even have to change his look, just makes sure the bandana is tucked into the correct pocket and they come to him, ready to let Eddie take the reins and drag them into something just painful enough to be really satisfying when they make it through to the end.

That's the thing about being a freak. That's the thing, that's always the thing, the backwards mixed-up thing in Eddie's brain that had him reading Tolkien before he turned nine but can't get through one Charles Dickens novel without wanting to scrape himself out of his own skin. He can calculate probabilities and percentage tables for a D&D game in his sleep but can't sit still through a single math class. It took less than a week to get note-perfect on the entire Master of Puppets guitar solo and six years might not be enough to graduate high school.

So yeah, Eddie knows how to be a freak and a faggot, can take a grown man to pieces with his hands and his voice and his dick if he just clicks into that zone where he has all the power to shape the world the way he wants it. That doesn't mean he has any goddamn idea what to do when Chrissy Cunningham smiles at him like that and he trips over his own feet.

He should be looking at Harrington. Steve goddamn Harrington is striding around like that, absolutely shirtless, streaked in dirt and his own blood like some goddamn primal warrior come to life. That would be safe. Safer. Something. Pretty boy in just the right amount of pain, Eddie should be enjoying the eye candy, but he can't because: 1) they're literally in hell and monsters could come after them at any time, 2) Nancy Wheeler apparently has a bedroom full of actual guns and is still in love with her ex-boyfriend, so Eddie's pretty sure he'd better keep his eyes to himself if he wants to keep them at all, and 3) far more importantly than all of that, Chrissy is scared enough to be holding his hand and he's terrified that his palms might be sweating. She's so pretty. He wants her to actually like him so, so badly. This is an absolute nightmare.

"You doing okay?" he asks Chrissy quietly, letting her lean on his arm to help her over some rough terrain when they have to take a detour around a knot of vines. She clutches at his sleeve and smiles timidly, putting on a brave face that makes Eddie want to do something insane like find a suit of shining armor just so he can bow to her in it.

"We're going to be fine," she says. "We just have to get to Nancy's house and it'll all be okay. Right?"

"Gonna let Wheeler make you a a total badass with a gun?" Eddie asks, and then mentally kicks himself. Who flirts with a girl by calling her a total badass? How do smooth guys flirt with girls if they stick around past the initial five minutes of inviting them to come see your band, which literally no girl has ever actually said yes to before? Eddie isn't even sure he has a band any more, if Chrissy's ex-boyfriend has anything to say about it, which means he's kind of out of ideas.

Eddie has one blinding, insane moment of wondering what would Jason Carver do here? before he almost chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He really can't do this.

"Maybe," Chrissy says, a little shy, and slides her hand down his arm to slip her palm into his again. "Do you think I could?"

There's a smudge of dirt on her perfect nose. Eddie wants to lick it off. Oh god he's a freak. You can't lick cheerleaders. Fuck, Eddie doesn't even know how to go down on a girl. Fuck, why did he think about that. It doesn't matter! He's never going to get the chance! Chrissy is never going to want him to touch her like that anyway!

"I think if the last few days have proven anything, it's that literally anything is possible," Eddie says, and then realizes he just implied that Chrissy being a badass is even more unlikely than alternate dimensions, which is probably even worse than calling her one in the first place, and holy shit, how is it even possible to be this awful at this? Why is she still standing here with him? "I mean, I could even stop being a coward who apparently runs away from absolutely everything, which I've discovered I am now, that's how weird things are, so yeah, compared to that, Chrissy, I think you could absolutely be a badass if you wanted to be."

"I don't think you're a coward," Chrissy says, and she's stepping closer, why is she stepping closer, tucking their arms together. "I mean, I couldn't even run away. He would've gotten me right there, if you hadn't..."

"Luckily I think Harrington and Wheeler are big enough heroes for all of us." Eddie catches sight of them up ahead, Wheeler on point like a hunting hound leading the way, Harrington keeping watch on all sides with that flashlight ready to spring into action at any minute. It should probably be Harrington back here with Chrissy, if he and Wheeler weren't so obviously the perfect battle couple together. Hell, even Buckley, who's up front with Nancy right now and who Eddie knows he clocked checking out Chrissy's legs earlier. She's awkward, yeah, but on her it'd be endearing, and maybe Chrissy deserves better than cowardly asshole boys for a while anyway.

She definitely deserves better than Eddie. She tugs him out of the way of a vine half a second before he trips over it in the dark, like a klutz and a dumbass, and Eddie curses himself for a failure.

[lurafita]

Just me spitballing a Malec reverse au re-write kinda thing

Reverse AU, featuring my chaotic brain process whenever I try to figure stuff out.

Okay, Malec, because of course Malec.

And reversed roles, but also not just reversed roles, because they aren't carbon copies of each other, so I need to make things different, while not making them too different.

Also, if I want Malec as the two main characters, I might have to "extend" their significance? But then again, wouldn't that just make them Mary Sue-ish? And do I care about that?

Okay, so warlock Alec and shadowhunter Magnus. But not simply swapping places, because they are not simply the same person.

So how about we try, Magnus is not HOTI or acting HOTI. Alec might be high warlock, though.

Magnus is the son of the circle founder, but that's his mother. (Since canon didn't give any info on her I can use her as I want).

I still want Asmodeus to be Magnus' father, but I also want Magnus to not have magic, which he would if Asmodeus was a demon.

So how about at the time of Magnus being conceived, Asmodeus was still an arch angel, and sleeping with the shadowhunter was actually the thing that made him fall.

(though at first, no one knows about all that)

(or, well, no one knows about the Asmodeus thing, but that Magnus is the son of the traitor shadowhunter who made the circle is widely known.)

Magnus is openly bisexual, likes to rub his "life-style" into his superior's faces, and is known to favor downworlders (though is often mistrusted by them, because of who his mother is)

Alec is the son of a high ranking demon, don't know which one, though. (could actually even go all the way up to Satan, but that might be too op?)

Or go the other way around. His demonic parent wasn't all that powerful, but Alec has spent most of his immortal life training his magical ability to be more powerful, and so has achieved his own status. Kinda.

Gotta think about this.

So, yeah, unsure about Alec's specific origins.

Makeshift family with Izzy, Jace, Max, no blood relation whatsoever, though.

Max could be the newest member of the family. Jace a vampire, because my brain thinks it's funny if he can't see his reflection. Izzy a fellow warlock, who specializes in another field than Alec, who is more battle oriented with his magic, while Izzy is more interested in the variety of magic.

Clary could be a seelie, Jace could at one point drink Magnus' (extra angel) blood and become a day walker

Then Simon could be the new shadowhunter on the block, though it is questionable if there needs to be that whole complicated backstory with blocked sight and stolen memories… maybe a psychological reaction from onset trauma as a child, that then stabilized over the years, so that he was able to rejoin the shadow world…. Gotta think of this one,too

Magnus and Raphael would be best friends and shadowhunting partners, but not parabatai. (partly because I'm not a big fan of the parabatai bond in general, and partly because I get the vibe that Raphael and Magnus are the kinda people who strife to become good partners without runic assistence.)

The NY institute could actually be the place where the Clave sends its troublemakers, aka anyone who doesn't conform to their ways. (anyone not straight, etc)

Which could lead to the institute being pretty understaffed, (because why have lots of shadowhunters in an institute if you only ever make use of the same 4 people to take care of everything?)

Ragnor would make a good HOTI. I like the thought of Ragnor as HOTI. He would be in a perpetual state of being exasperated and fond of the shadowhunters under his command. (Magnus most of all)

I don't know where to put Luke.

So, meeting between Malec. ...

Maybe something more indirect that leads up to it?

Okay, so the family unit that is Alec, Izzy and Max (and Jace), move to New York.

(maybe the rumor mill goes something like shadowhunters in NY being more easy going with the downworld, or something. Or just that there are less shadowhunters in NY than in other places).

And since Max has had a particularly bad experience and is still so young, they decide that he would benefit from the new environment. And maybe Andrew is the high warlock in new york, but he wants a vacation, so he is all too happy to shove that responsibility into Alec's capable hands.

And then Magnus and his team need to close a rift, so they contact the high warlock, but Alec is with the vamp clan, to help Jace move in or something. So then Izzy goes in his stead.

But unbeknownst to anyone, Max follows them. Because he doesn't trust the shadowhunters not to hurt his "sister".

Closing the rift drains Izzy, and as she collapses, Raphael catches her. Max, who has been spying from a hidden place, can't help but see his sister in danger, and his magic reacts.

But he doesn't have great control, and his emotional turmoil makes like a fire spiral form around him. Izzy's magic is too depleted to try and control the fire, Max is panicking which makes the flames grow ever higher and higher.

So Magnus chucks his jacket and jumps through the fire spiral. There are some tense seconds, before the gathered people can hear the sounds of singing (?) (like a lullabye or something).

And then the firey spiral slows down and shrinks, until they can see (a slightly singed) Magnus rocking young Max and singing to him to calm him down.

Magnus and Raphael (plus Maia and Dot?) keep this little tidbit out of the report, no need to tell the higher ups that there is a warlock child who can't yet properly control his magic.

Alec learns of it all later from both Izzy and Max, and seeks out Magnus to thank him/get a read on him.

(I do like the image of Magnus jumping through fire to calm down a hysterical child, not gonna lie. And then Raphael hitting him over the head for not activating his fire resistence rune first.)

Also, whenever there is a clave envoy sent to visit the institute, Magnus makes sure to put on extra makeup and sparkly jewelry. And wear a t-shirt with a bisexual pun.

His fashion sense normally abhorrs those shirts, but if those stuck up homophobes make an appearance, he needs them to know that he "Likes his women like he likes his men"

And I have actually no real idea for actual plot..... so this is pretty much worthless. *insert rofl emoji here*

[5ivebyfive]

shut up and drive commentary: did you always planned for Trini to be fired from her job? And was it always Kim's doing??

COMMENTARY #1:

I did always plan for Trini to get fired. I felt like Trini knowing about the drag racing and not doing anything or reporting it would at the very least get her on suspension. And then Kim was so pissed off, she very much would call Daddy and have him get Trini fired. And since he has pull, being that the departments use his software and he knows people, it isn't hard for him to follow through. Now, whether it's because he loves his daughter or wants Trini away from Kim and will just do whatever Kim asks...you'd have to get into his mind to find out.

It was a hard choice, because Trini truly loves criminal justice. She wanted to be a detective. She wanted to help change the world of policing, even if she was on her own doing it. She knew she could be a better officer of the law than most, and she always knew she was good at taking care of people.

It sucks for her that it was so soon into her becoming an officer and that it was so short lived. Hopefully she'll find a way to get back in, but that's for a future chapter ;)

Yes, it was always Kim's doing. Kim was hurt and angry and felt betrayed, and she isn't good with any of those feelings. She's impulsive and rash, and she hates all cops. With all of that, she figured why not? It would be easy. And she would ruin Trini's life just like Trini ruined hers. (Because of course Kim cares deeply about Trini, even then.)

But Kim is also vindictive. She was depressed after the whole Ty/Amanda thing, but she wasn't embarrassed nor did she regret it. So she never learned her lesson in that regard. It felt good, and it kept feeling good every time she found ways to get back at people.

She's very complicated, but not a bad person.

Send in more commentary requests! Scene/theme/chapter/etc. I'm extending the time to send them in to infinity. So please send some! I know a lot of you wanted to see them.