#fic: swing first

[dollscircus]

Swing first, ask later. Chapter 1.

(In my defence it’s Gotham and you were breaking in)

chapter 2

Arkham Knight Jason Todd x vet!Reader

Words: 2.5k

Tags: Injury detail, fighting and brief reference to animal cruelty plus general fuckery.

Synopsis: when you found someone breaking into your little veterinary clinic, you didn’t expect to find the Arkham Knight and certainly didn’t expect to find out that he reminds you of a wounded puppy. You’re a fixer, I guess…

-

I’ve always been a fixer. It’s always been apart of myself, ever since I was a kid. My mother at a young age learned what streets in Gotham to avoid with me because God forbid I’d see a small stray animal and try to sneak it home in my pocket. The animal shelters knew me so well at age 12, commonly bringing them in whatever injured or sick animal I would and wrangled into my arms. Most of your pocket money was used on animals and people in need.

That’s why I became a veterinarian, it felt good being able to help some of the weakest creatures in Gotham, a place that didn’t show many mercy. I liked being able to show that mercy and care. The night I met him, you stayed late in the clinic which was a normal thing. Your apartment was above the clinic, so it made it easy to come down the stairs to check on my patients during the night. That’s what brought my down into the clinic.

I weren’t sure how late it was, yawning as your body protested even being awake. I walked down the steps leading to the back alley, where the back door to the clinic was found. Rubbing the heel of my hand into my tried eyes as the keys jangled in my hand as my fingers worked through the bundle of keys to find the exact one I were looking for.

I mumbled in irritation while pushing the door open, I didn’t notice the blood drops on the floor of the alley as I stepped over it and into the clinic. I reached my hand over to the light switch but paused when I felt the breeze and whistle of the wind. Scanning around the dark clinic, I spotted it; A window was smashed, the curtains blowing softly in the soft breeze. I paused listening to slight movements coming from one of the back rooms. Oh, fuck that.

Another fun fact about myself, I don’t often think my actions through. The sounds were coming from the back room where the animals needing long term care were housed, in that moment I was to worried about whoever was in there harming the animals I didn’t think about calling the cops when I crept through the dark office, grabbing a baseball bat that was leaning against the desk.

I took slow and soft steps while walking through the office, noticing the back door slightly left open ajar. Some small light streaming in through the door, I couldn’t see much of the figure moving around but that small amount of light made I finally notice the blood smears over the ground. I looked down to the ground and scowled at the sight of blood. What?

I stood by the door, peaking my eyes inside and saw the stack of cages. Most of the patients sleeping aside from one of the cats who was clearly watching whoever was in the room who I heard an annoyed curse come from. The voice sounded weird like it came from a filter. I took a deep breath, adrenaline pumping through my blood as I nudged the door open with the bat then with a quick motion kicking the door open and just- swinging the bat at the figure in the room before even taking a solid look at him.

I missed. I never pretended to be athlete; the bat slammed into the metal of the shelf denting it. I gasped while the figured lashed to the side to avoid the blow, the metal bat made a metallic ringing sound in my ears. Turning your head to the figure, I didn’t register who he was; I could see the frantic shuffling back away from the shelf. The frantic gesture caused me to suddenly think about a scared stray dog. That train of thought kept my mind occupied that I gave the man enough time to pull the gun off his belt.

The next few moments were filled with many feelings and realisations. The first was that the man bleeding all over my floor was the Arkham Knight. Next the next was the gun he was now pointing at me. Honestly? Fair enough. There were a few long moments that stretched out, filling with the sound of your unsteady breathing and his own breathing distorted by the helmet. It was tense. He just stared at me; his grip of the gun trembled. I wasn’t sure what was about to happen, expecting to be killed but then- his hand and gun dropped down to the ground with a thud.

“Huh.” I said, my voice sounded a little weird just standing in the dim office. The Arkham Knight was still now, his breathing coming through the helmet with a distorted sound. I stepped closer, still holding the bat up as you creeped closer. Standing above him, I tilted your head to the side before tapping the bat into his foot. No reaction.

I tilted your head to the other side while looking him over, a wound was seeping out blood from his thigh. Ah, that makes sense why he had broken into the clinic. Ok- nice I didn’t get shot. I turned on your heel to walk out of the office to call the police until the memory of the Arkham Knight crawling back away from you flashed in your mind and it stopped you in your tracks. My common sense screamed to call the cops. That would be the smart thing to do but I was never one for common sense. I turned over my shoulder to look at the man on the ground. “Fuck.”

I wasn’t a doctor; I were a veterinarian but hey, I did my best. All I did was cut away from of the fabric from the wound to tend to it, leaving the clunky helmet in place. After I were done stitching his leg up, I left him on the cold table while you sat in a chair nearby just- staring at him.

He would sleep for a freakishly long time, so much so that the sun was creeping over the horizon when he finally did wake up. I didn’t notice it at first, I can my back to him while you were cleaning up the mess he caused, picking up boxes of medicine and supplies to place them back in their rightful spot. Standing in place, I didn’t realise he had woken up until there was suddenly an arm hooked around my throat with the Arkham knight leaning over me. His weight pushing me into the self as I felt the muzzle of the gun pressing into my ribs.

“Whoa- Whoa.” I started, trying to soften my voice. I didn’t really notice I was using the same voice I used with the more- feral animals that come into the clinic. The gun pressed a little harder into my ribs, but I wasn’t as scared as I should’ve been.

“What did you do?” He asked, voice sounding rough and distorted by the helmet. I let out a little sigh while slowly raising my hands to show they were empty.

“I stitched up your leg.” I said calmly, “I didn’t touch the helmet.”

There was a moment of silence, I could tell he was complicating what to do next. I was quiet, looking ahead to avoid any quick moments startling him. The gun was still firmly pressed into my ribs but his grip around my neck seemed to loosen ever so slightly.

“Why?” He asked, some confusion seeping into that rough voice. I really didn’t an answer that didn’t seem insulting. A few moments stretched on until he pressed the gun into my ribs a little more which sparked some mild pain into my ribs. That tiny bit of pain seemed to break my filter.

“You made me think of a stray dog.” I blurted out and instantly regretted it. Welp, he’s going to kill me and honestly. Fair enough, that was a dumbass thing to say. I help my breath, preparing for the pain of the gunshot but it never came. The weight pressed into my back suddenly pulled away and the gun was so longer jabbed into my side. Looking over my shoulder, I watched the knight slowly backing away from me; The gun still raised up and pointing at me. The helmet made his expression impossible to read, I stared at him as he ever so slowly backed away. Limping on his hurt leg.

“I uh- I’m not a doctor so you should get your leg checked by an actual doctor.” I mumbled while looking him up and down. His helmet flicked over to the door to the back room, and he started limping to the back door, the gun trained on me, but a strange sound came out of the helmet. A huff? Was it a huff? A laugh? The sound was distorted by the helmet so I couldn’t really tell.

As with a very quick moment, he slipped out of the office and disappeared into the still dark clinic. Huh. Well, that went much better than I expected. I listened out for the sound of the knight climbing out the window he broke, leaving me standing so very confused in my clinic.

—

“You made me think of a stray dog.”

Those words repeated in his head over and over. It had been a very long time since someone had shocked him with just some words. He’d been on edge ever since he climbed through the window of the clinic, the sterile smell and look of the place set his nerves on fire. Those memories of the asylum threatening to spill over, that panic only made worst when that bat swung into the shelf making the echoing metal trill. Oh boy. Now that did cause a wave of panic to rush over him. He moved back trying to create as much distance between him and whoever was swinging for him.

Only to be met face to face with you.

You. The memories of his childhood flashed through his mind in a few quick moments. Memories that often haunted him in his time in Arkham. No- they comforted him. No- Well, it was a bit of both honestly. Memories of a much softer times. Not tainted by the joker and batman. A place where Jason could hide away from the pain even if it was just for a moment.

He almost thought he had finally cracked and gone insane as he stared up at you down the barrel of the gun. You’ve really gone up nice, even with the shocked and slightly fearful expression. Jason felt that blinding panic fade from his body and the mere sight of you, along with all of his strength as he fell unconscious.

Jason wouldn’t actually shoot you. Never. Not you but he needed answers. What you knew. A pit in his stomach formed that he wasn’t used to when threatening most with violence, but he didn’t really have time to unpack that when your words shocked his brain into- a reboot.

“You made me think of a stray dog.”

Huh. Ok. That- huh.

You really haven’t change. Jason found himself strangely comforted by that, but your self preservation skills worried him greatly. Jason had to remind himself to push all of those feelings down. Refocus. Remember whats important.

You seemed to be doing good. That’a good. Good.

—

I had to put a tarp over the broken window, grumbling in irritation the whole while as I had to stand on a stool to reach the very top of the tall ass window. I grumbled while glancing over to the door as Mary unlocked the front door and stepped inside. “Oh, hello” She said while looking me up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“What happened?” She asked cue a very intense train of thought. Do I admit the truth and get scolded for what was an extremely stupid decision or lie? I’m bad at lying.

“Uh.” I said, just staring at Mary. “You’ll yell at me if I’m honest.” She narrowed her tried eyes at me.

“Did you break it yourself?” She asked and I shook my head in response. Mary let out a deep tried sigh before taking a sip of the coffee cup she was holding in her hand. It was a very long sip. I shuffled a little before climbing down from stool.

“I’ll ask again in an hour.” Mary walked past me into the back room. Honestly- not the worst.

“Why is there blood on the floor in here!?” Maru screeched from the backroom. Ah fuck.

It didn’t take to long to explain what happened. Mary was across the table from me pitching the bridge of her nose, face scrunched up. I tapped my shoes on the ground while just watched the older woman scowl.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“So. You not only didn’t call the police of the masked man who broke in but stitched up his leg? because the big scary man reminded you of a stray dog?”

“…Yeah. In my defence- he reminded of that grumpy stray pit bull? The one that came to us with his muzzle tapped up?” I tried to defend myself, but I could see Mary’s will to live slowly seeping out of her body.

“You’re going to be the death of me one day.” Mary sighed while standing up, “Just- you don’t have a shift today so just- go home.”

“Really- Mary I don’t mind-” I started to speak before she pointed at me.

“Go home.” She deadpanned.

Like I was told, I made my way up to my apartment. Rubbing a hand over my face while I felt the exhaustion of the night before catching up to me, muscles aching while I came down from the adrenaline rush. Dropping down on the bed, not even bothering to change my clothes as I dropped down on to the bed. Shoving my face into the pillow.

Sleep pretty quickly caught up with me. I wasn’t sure how long I slept for when I finally did wake up, glancing over to my window which had sunlight streaming in through the window. I blinked a few times in the- early afternoon light? Pulling myself up from the bed, rubbing my hands and letting out a tried groan.

After a few moments, I noticed something. My window was left slightly open, there was a small box on the desk by the window that was littered with old pictures and trinkets I collected over the years. I frowned while walking over to the desk before picking up the box. There was a little note on the box, ‘Sorry for the window, thank for the leg.’

The box had a- large amount of cash inside. Did the- Arkham Knight leave money when I was sleeping? A few emotions rushed through me. It was kinda creepy knowing the Arkham Knight was so close and I wasn’t aware that he was so close but- he took the time to leave money for the window? Huh. That’s kinda sweet?

I didn’t know how to feel about this.

[glassedplanets]

i am still soooo charmed by that one set of eyecatchers

[datkat08]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Vinsmoke Sanji/Roronoa Zoro, Vinsmoke Sanji & Roronoa Zoro, Nami & Roronoa Zoro Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro, Nami (One Piece), Nico Robin (cameo), Monkey D. Luffy (cameo), Usopp (cameo), Tony Tony Chopper (cameo) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nicknames, Nami is a good friend, Roronoa Zoro and Sanji Bickering, Romantic Tension, Banter, Teasing, Flirting, Impulsive Kiss, Zoro is confused about his feelings, sanji is too, Pre-Timeskip, Pre-Water 7 Arc (One Piece), Unnamed Islands, Made Up Islands, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like kuina, POV Alternating, But it's not clear or consistent sorry, Zoro and Sanji are idiots, but we love them anyway, No smut because I refuse to write it, Sorry Not Sorry, not in my Christian Minecraft Server, my first work!!!, Happy to be Here, I hope everyone's doing well, Rated T for swearing Summary:

Sanji turns around in mock surprise. Zoro smirks as the women giggle. Bingo. Just as Zoro prepares to revel in Sanji’s inevitable embarrassment, the blond man actually seems to consider Zoro’s comment. His glazed eyes scan over the swordsman’s body. He places a gentle hand on the man’s chest, eyes downcast and unfocused.

“You know…” he starts quietly, looking up at Zoro and making rather uncomfortable eye contact with him, “you’re not wrong.”

He pushes past Zoro, leaving him with the beautiful, now surprised women.

- Aka what happens when two people who physically cannot back down from a challenge decide that their next competition is going to be who can out-flirt the other.

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Okay uh, it turned into a fic??

I don't...have an excuse. My brain just. Uh. I'm sorry?

First kisses: Mortarion exclusive ~♡

Probably out of character so um. Apologies for that.

“Clumsy,” he mutters, but  you can hear the way his tone lifts with amusement. He shakes his head, some of his long hair slipping out from the bun he’s pinned it back in as he lifts you upright with ease, dusting off some of the flour from your arm. He gives you a quick once-over, you playfully wipe some of the flour off on his shirt. He scoffs and reaches over to take the screaming kettle off the stove, “it should be ready soon,” he says, right as the timer chimes insistently. Mortarion passes you the oven mits and you lean down, the familiar smell of chamomile wafting up with the steam as he slips the ceramic lid onto the teapot and you bring the small loaf out of the oven, setting it on the counter. “Normally it’s cooked in the coals of a fire,” he says, “you were saying that earlier. And once it’s cooled down a bit, you eat it with syrup, right?” you reply, watching as the taps the base of the loaf and nods. “Hollow,” you say to the noise, “that’s how you know it’s cooked,” he hums, looking pleased, scarred lips twisted into a little smile as you pour yourself some tea, “where did I put that bread knife?” he asks himself, turning around to survey the kitchen. He spots it by the sink and potters back over to the loaf, slicing off a piece and watching the puff of steam rise from within. He picks up the jug of syrup and pours it over the slice, offering it to you as a bit of the dark golden liquid drips over his hand. You take a bite. The syrup is thick and sweet and the bread is thick and warm, you can feel your cheek getting sticky and hear Mortarion scoff again affectionately as he cuts a thick slice for himself. Both are demolished in mere moments and you find yourself chuckling at him as he licks his hand like a cat. “Let me get that for you,” he says, glancing around before sinking to one knee, wincing as his rear thuds against the cabinet as he slouches down close enough to reach you. He grasps your chin gently and turns your face to the side, leaning in. He licks the sticky syrup off, tongue hot against your cheek. He licks across the corner of your lips and pauses. He pulls away a little, you look at him, breath caught in your throat. “May I kiss you?” He asks, voice quiet. You nod. His lips are soft but dry, and all you can smell is syrup and chamomile.

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday, Part Three

<Prev

Jak did not wake that entire day.

Nor the next.

Nor the day after that.

His body was flushed with fever, and dark, angry lines had begun to spread from the double injection over his core. Infection set in so much faster than they could have anticipated.

Was this what his first injection cycle had been like?

No. Even if the symptoms were the same, this was fundamentally different. He wasn't injected while awake and fighting restraints too big for his little wrists. He wasn't dumped in a frigid prison cell to survive the first infection alone.

Jak was constantly monitored, fluids fed into him to compensate for how much he sweated out. Cold compresses pressed against his forehead at all times. Bio readings on constant readout.

And, most vital of differences, the people around him were fighting to keep him alive because they cared about him, not because it was inconvenient to lose a test subject.

Damas barely ate or drank during those two days. He didn't sleep more than a few minutes at a time. Every waking moment was spent at Jak’s bedside, holding his hand or smoothing back his hair.

Sometime after evening meal on the second day, Sister Yan returned with the light eco. That was the first time Jak’s eyes opened, if only for a moment. The light eco did little more than break the fever, but even just that was a relief. Everything else was up to Jak, now. He just had to fight.

"You can do this, little one," Damas whispered, over and over. "Just stay with me, Jak. Stay with me."

By now word had spread: Damas had a child in the hospital. Now was not the time to bring petty concerns to him. The council of advisors appointed Mako as interim steward to seize temporary power in his absence -- how very strange it was to live in a place where he trusted Mako wholeheartedly to make the right choices and peacefully hand over power when he returned! And he would have trusted any of his advisors to be a good steward of the throne!

Perhaps it was because they had all shed blood as equals. They knew what it was to go hungry. To suffer thirst. They each knew what it was to go without a roof over their heads. It was a lot easier to govern a people when you didn't try to balance on a pedestal high above them.

Jak woke while Damas was dozing. His movements were slow, and sluggish, but the faint sound of his bare arm against the sheets was enough to snap Damas back to consciousness. His eyes flew open and he straightened to check the bed.

Confused blue eyes blinked sleepily back at him.

"Jak!"

Damas leaped up, hands hovering awkwardly.

"Are you alright? How do you feel, son?"

Jak squinted against the fluorescent light and squinched one eye shut.

Too tired to lift his hands, he grudgingly used his voice.

"Th. Thhhhh. Hers. Tee."

"You're thirsty?"

"Mhm."

Jak didn't understand why there were tears in Damas’s eyes. Or why he laughed at that.

"I'm not surprised! Hold on, bug, I'll get you some water."

It wasn't cold, but Jak didn't care. He felt like he hadn't had anything to drink in days! He grumbled when Damas made him slow down, and tried to pull away. Something tugged painfully at the crook of his elbow, and he yelped.

"Ouch!"

He turned, and saw a tube. Sticking out of his arm. Sticking out of the skin.

What did that mean?!

Very, very slowly, Jak swiveled back to look up at Damas.

"Tha-at?" He asked nervously.

Damas brushed the hair from his face -- hey! Where were his goggles?! -- and kept making a sad face. Why the sad face? What was going on?

"It's medicine, son."

Damas swallowed hard.

"That's um. It's a special kind of tool for when people can't take medicine like normal. The doctor uses that little- little tube to trick your body into thinking it's part of the bloodstream. The um. The medicine goes straight into your blood to fight infection there."

Jak hastily drained the last of the water in the paper cup and forced out a few lethargic signs.

"It stays there?”

"No, no no no!" Damas took the cup from him and refilled it. "Only until that bag is empty. See?"

He pointed to where the pinkish line sat on the bag.

"Once that's gone, Dr. Rezzik will come take it out. We'll put a little tourniquet on it, and you'll be fine in a few hours."

"Woo. Aye. Nnn-n oh. Ee. Co?"

Damas winced and drew back a little.

"You...need to stay away from eco for a few weeks, son."

A few weeks?! Jak was horrified. What had happened?! He'd just been playing with eco on the beach, with Flick! How did he get to this cold white room, with a medicine tube, and no eco?

Jak wanted to ask what happened. Why he was here. But his voice was tired, and his arms were tired.

"...d...Dad-t?" he asked, trying to pour all his questions into that one word.

Damas’s breath caught. He slowly lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Do you remember what happened? When you were playing with Flick?" he asked softly.

Jak tried to remember, he really did. But his brain felt all mushy and sleepy.

He shrugged.

"That was-" Damas sighed and brushed back Jak’s hair again. "That was three days ago, son. You accidentally made dark eco."

Jak recoiled in horror. Made dark eco?! Like the Acherons?! Did that make him bad like them?

Samos would be so mad at him! Daxter would be so mad!

"Hey, hey, Jak, look at me. Look at Dad."

The words snapped Jak back to the present, and he turned teary eyes towards Damas. Damas didn't look angry, at least.

"It was just an accident, son." Damas reached down and squeezed his hand. "You're not in trouble, and neither is Flick. Not for that, at least. I'm just-"

He shuddered. "I was so worried, Jak! You wouldn't wake up! We had to induce eco overexposure just to correct the imbalance!"

"That's why my core hurts?" Jak felt the spot between his sternum and intestines where the small organ sat. The skin there was hot and tender to the touch. He hissed in pain and withdrew his hand.

"Yes, son. It is. I'm sorry.”

____________________________

There were, Jak discovered, pros and cons of being in "the hoss-piddle". He couldn't run, he couldn't get out of bed, and it was intensely boring.

But Damas was almost always there! And sometimes Jak's friends visited!

Raza even snuck her dogat kitten in under her shirt and almost started a mini riot in the children's ward.

Flick hadn't visited yet.

Damas said shd felt like it was her fault he'd been in a "coma" for two days. That she probably felt too guilty to come see him.

Didn't make Jak feel better about it. How did he know she didn't just want to stay away from dark eco?

Dr. Rezzik said it would never fully go away. Even if it was only a tiny little bit, that dark spot on his chest was probably permanent. They didn't know how he'd done it, but he'd absorbed it into his core.

That scared Jak a lot more than he let on. Would he turn gray and lose his reason, like Gol and Maia?

Emotions sat a little closer to the surface while he was in the hospital. Little things bothered him in ways they hadn't before.

Lights hurt his eyes too much once the sun went down. The sound of the kid in the next bed chewing his food made him irrationally angry for some reason. Sometimes just the chair next to his bed being empty made him start tearing up.

Nurse Brooks called it puberty. Jak was pretty sure he already did puberty. This was something else.

"Hey, kid."

Jak looked up from absolutely mangling a little metal can they'd somehow squeezed juice into. He hadn't even noticed that he'd crushed it into an unrecognizable lump.

Damas folded his arms and looked at the crumpled mess.

Jak's ears drooped. He'd spaced out again. He did that when things got too noisy already, but things were just noisier here.

But Damas just smiled and suppressed a chuckle.

"I bet you're ready to get out of here, huh?"

*"Yah,"* Jak said emphatically.

He looked around a moment, then sheepishly put the mangled can on the little tray his decidedly bland lunch had been on.

Wiping droplets of juice from his fingers, Jak hoisted himself further upright.

"Can I go home yet? I don't like it here!"

He'd repeated the same question almost every day. And almost every day the answer was "no, son, not yet."

More scans. More finger-sticks. More cold metal things against his back and chest so they could listen to his heart and lungs and core. More bedrest.

But today felt different.

Damas set a small canvas bag down on the chair beside the bed and nodded to it. "I brought you some clean clothes. You'll need to wear the pulse-monitor bracelet for a few more days, but Dr. Petros and Dr. Rezzik cleared you to come home."

Jak whooped and pumped his fist.

"Can we go now? Like right now?"

"You don't want to change first?"

Jak shook his head. "No. The longer I'm here, the scarier it gets. I'm gonna fight somebody if I have to wake up for one more night round."

"Please don't fight the nurses, they're just trying to help." Damas held out a hand and let Jak pull himself to his feet.

He examined the dark circles under his eyes and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Nurse Brooks said you haven't been sleeping well even without his rounds at night."

Jak looked away, embarrassed.

"Nightmares."

Tattooed faces and maddened eyes and crackling, arcing, dark eco-

"About when I landed in Haven. And the woods."

Damas pulled him into a very careful hug, avoiding compressing the icky little starburst shape on Jak’s chest.

"Oh Jak. I'm sorry, son. Do you think you'll sleep better in your own bed?"

"Yeah."

Jak took the time to say goodbye to his roommate. It wasn't Beten's fault he chewed so loudly. He didn't need to get so angry about it.

But Precursors he was glad to be getting away from all that slurping.

"Am I allowed to go exploring yet?" Jak asked as Damas walked him out of the ward. Some of the other kids waved to him. Some were only there for bumps and bruises, one or two were longterm residents with chronic conditions.

"We'll see how you feel tomorrow.”

"Aw!"

[andjsjfks]

Butterfly Clips and Strawberry Hair Ties

David/Angel

Sometimes being alpha of the pack means sitting amongst the pack pups and letting them do horrendous things to your hair. David didn't mind.

AO3

“You having fun?” David glances upwards, his vision mostly distorted by the colourful array of butterfly clips and beads decorating his fringe, courtesy of the trio of pups surrounding him. The pups pay no mind to the newcomer, far too focused on the task at hand. Behind David, sits Paige and Eva, each braiding small sections of hair at the back of his head. Brightly coloured hair ties, decorated with different plastic fruits sitting comfortably on their wrists. In front is Liam, Paige’s younger brother and the artist behind the spectacle that is David’s fringe. 

He’s been meaning to get a haircut for weeks now. Every morning spent in the bathroom mirror complaining that the back is looking far too much like a mullet for his liking. His mate, however, disagrees. 

Without it how would they ever have walked in on such a lovely sight?

“Not a word, angel” David murmurs, being careful to not disturb Liam from his handiwork. There’s a fondness in his voice that’s been more apparent as of late, a lightness to him that was hard found a year ago. 

It wasn’t just his voice that appeared softer. Over the past couple of months, his shoulders had fallen from their spot up against his ears. The proverbial tie around his neck finally loosened up. Everyone could see it. More often than not he could be found engaging in pack jokes, now laughing along with Asher’s outlandish comments rather than instantly shooting them down. 

The pups felt it too, the gradual shift in their alphas attitude. It’s not as if he was ever rude to them not at all. The pups knew in their hearts that no matter what, they could go to David for protection or advice. However, his standoff persona did make it difficult for the pups to play around with him the same way they did Milo or Asher. Paired with his intimidating height and gruff voice, he was certainly a difficult person to face. 

But that had changed too, evident by the scene playing out in front of Angel. David cross-legged on the games room floor amidst a certainly creative hair makeover. 

“Room for another hairdresser?” Ignoring their mate, Angel directs their question to Liam as he clips another small pink butterfly into the alpha's fringe. The frantic nodding from the boy is answer enough, emphasised by his shuffle to the side of David to create room for the alpha mate. 

“Don’t you dare” The warning itself is fruitless, with his mate already having moved from their spot against the doorframe to kneel next to Liam, the youngest of the Shaw Pack pups.

“Which colour should I use?” Angel asks, rummaging through the little plastic box of clips owned by Paige. Wordlessly, Liam hunches over the box, picking out a glittery blue clip and handing it over to them. Liam has always been more on the shy side of things, opting to mostly hide behind his sister and her outgoing personality. 

“Wonderful pick bud” They smile. Moving their hands over to an unclipped section of David’s hair, they ran their fingers through it for a brief moment before pushing the clip near the top of the stands, pinning back some of the hair clouding his vision. 

David turns to Liam, hand resting on the boy’s own head as he ruffles his hair slightly. “What do you think kiddo, they do a good enough job of it?” Liam puts his full attention on the clip in question, moving David’s head about as he pleases to study the placement. With a smile and a nod, the boy turns back to the box of clips, searching for his next decoration. 

A huff can be heard from behind David, as the two girls move his head to once again face forward, continuing on with their braids. His eyes meet his mates, where they wait with a smile and a specific look in their eyes. 

It’s a gleam that he’d slowly started becoming more accustomed to. One that only ever appeared when he was found interacting with the youngest of the pack. David knows what that look means, he’s experienced it himself, on those few occasions when Angel’s niece and nephew have stayed the night at their place. When he walked into their living room to find the three of them cuddled up, chatting at a pace few can keep up with about the Disney movie playing on the tv. 

The first time he felt it, it scared him. David’s always wanted a family, wanted so desperately to give the love he received as a kid to his own. After the accident, his priorities changed, they had to. He was the alpha now. A pack of wolves looked to him, for support, guidance and safety. His duty to his pack overpowered any dream that he might have wanted for himself. After all, he’d already resigned himself to not finding a mate, never mind having children. So he locked away the dream. Burying it deep beneath his newfound responsibilities as the leader of this pack. 

Angel came into his life with a shovel and determination. 

Within months of being together, they unearthed every thought he’d ever had about being a dad. That’s what terrified him. David had become so resigned to the idea of never having kids, to instead put all the care and protection he would’ve shown a child towards the pack, that when the thoughts of starting a family with his mate appeared he was overwhelmed by them. How could he possibly divide his love between being a father and an alpha?    

Gabe made it look so easy. 

David thought it impossible.

Until one night. The door to their apartment not long closed on Angel’s sister after picking up her kids from a ‘weekend with the Shaws’. David and his mate worked in silence, refolding blankets, cleaning up plates, and picking up the array of legos scattered across their living room floor. Silence broken only by the remaining few minutes of The Lion King 2 coming from the tv. As Angel collected the last couple of bricks that had rolled slightly beneath the couch, they cleared their throat. Throwing the plastic into a nearby tub, before resting on their knees and turning towards David in the kitchen. 

“Do you want kids?” 

Time stopped for just a second. Hands stilled around a plate, wet and in danger of slipping from his hold, especially considering the shock the question sent through him. This is it, he thought. The moment to bare all to them. Share every secret and dream about one day becoming a father to his own, how he longs for it all, every aspect. Early morning cartoons, scrapped knees, stabilizers and bedtime stories. How for years of his life he’d been convinced he’d never be able to have any of these things. 

He has so much that he wanted to say. 

Instead, he just says, “Yes”.

Angel knows. They can see in his knuckles, how they turned white as he gripped the plate, before loosening his hold and letting the blood flow freely. They see it in the widening of his eyes as he stares out the kitchen window, before relaxing his gaze and turning towards them, a glimpse of something so new and unfamiliar swimming within them. A gaze they’d see again, the next time their niece and nephew visit, and fully understand the meaning of it. They see him. They know him. 

“Me too” 

That’s all David’s mind needed for everything to fall into place. Confirmation from his mate that they too, wanted a family. He’d already achieved something he once thought impossible by finding them, an unempowered human who loved him, wolf and all. How they not only cared for him but held a fierce love and devotion towards his pack too, their pack. It no longer felt like an outlandish idea to have children of their own, in fact, it felt right. 

Why couldn’t he be both an alpha and a dad?  

He often wonders if this is how his dad felt, after meeting his mom and creating a pack together. If the idea of family changed in his brain once he found the one person he wanted to share it all with. 

The two of them never really spoke about it directly again, instead opting to make little comments that hinted towards their future family together. Angel walking past the baby section of a store and holding up little boots, cooing over how cute they would look on their kid. David finding a mini plastic gardening set and immediately putting it in the cart to store in the attic for whenever they might need it. It was nice, knowing that the two of them were on the same page. In no immediate rush to extend their family, but acknowledging that it would happen at some point in their shared future.

A brush to the side of his face brings him back from deep within his head. Fingertips gently tracing from under his ear to the tip of his chin and back again. 

“You know, if you think any harder you’re gonna hurt yourself” They laugh. 

Any response from David is cut off by the excited sounds of the girls behind him. Eva clambered up onto her feet to run to his front, jumping slightly on the balls of her feet. 

“We’re done! Go look go look” Small hands grab onto one of his own, attempting to pull him up off the floor. 

“Ok ok let’s see the masterpiece” David waits for Liam to slide off of the knee he’d ended up on, then gets to his feet and walks over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door. 

His hair, for lack of a better word, was a mess. Several clips bunched his hair up in ways that he knows will leave a knot for him to brush out. Some of the clips even sliding from their original places and falling down certain strands. The two braids were uneven and lopsided with chunks of hair falling out the sides and the hair ties too loose to be holding them together for much longer. God knows what reaction this will illicit out of Asher and Tank, the two most known for giving him a hard time about almost anything. Not to mention Sam, who quickly found himself comfortable enough within the pack to start teasing anyone, given the chance. But right now, behind him stood three kids, with gleaming smiles on their faces awaiting their alpha’s highly regarded opinion. And so he smiles. 

“I love it, you guys did a great job” 

The praise sets the two girls off on a whirlwind, explaining their reasoning behind the hair ties they chose and why. Liam stands quietly at their side, a small smile on his face as he admires the clip still held in his hands. 

David tries to focus on what they’re saying he really does, but his mate catches his eye once again. Eyes soft with a smile even softer. 

Handsome they mouth, a laugh threatening to escape their lips, but holding it back out of respect for the pups’ feelings. He can’t help the roll of his eyes.  

One day, this will be their everyday. 

One day, they won’t have to wait for pack meetings or solstices. Or weekends spent babysitting.

David couldn’t be more excited.

[decaflondonfog]

at andrew and neil’s wedding reception, nicky pulls out his phone and plays a compilation of voice notes from their years together at PSU, in which both andrew and neil repeatedly say stuff along the lines of “it’s nothing,” “we’re just friends,” “i don’t give a fuck about him” and “it’s not like that”

nicky is not the best man. he has to be dragged away from the top table before andrew punches him and neil just laughs the entire time. the recording is seven minutes long

[foccaccia]

does anyone have recommendations for fictional media that has like. actual lesbians in it. not like supergirl Two White Skinny Girls, One Blonde and One Brunette Kiss media, or "its implied lesbianism!!!" but just regular fucking lesbians

[genderdotcom]

strong feelings abt the emperor's pronouns: i think if you asked it the answer would vary based on the person asking. because i don't actually think he cares much about which pronouns people use for him. like it's very clear about preferring its illithid form to its previous despite the differences. and yet he still does have remnants of his old life in his room. ANYWAY i got off topic but like. the dream guardian is obviously a customised form made to best manipulate the player. and it's clear that the manipulation doesn't stop after the truth comes out, even though there's a lot less leeway to work with after so much has been stripped away. so if most people asked i think he would say "he/him" just to cement that tie to humanity in more (in much the same way as his little room tour) but if someone asked that was trans, used neopronouns or was generally pro- unconventional gender expression and wouldn't consider it/its dehumanising, the emperor would say "it/its" and draw parallels to that person's own experience to invite compassion.

[57sfinest]

what is the forbidden harry and jean lore

cracking my knuckles before preparing to type the most deranged post in the history of the world

okay so listen. harry and jean are so unbelievably fucked up. their relationship is TERRIBLE for them both. it's toxic, it's abusive, it's deeply codependent and it's also the only thing either of them has.

here's the thing. the partnership starts off fairly normal- yes, harry is a shithead, he's not a good person, but neither is jean and harry doesn't treat him like shit right off the bat. harry starts off on his best behavior, because here's a new guy who's much younger and who he outranks: this is fresh meat, thrown into his enclosure. another can for him to open. someone new to help him bear his burdens until he inevitably throws them away. he's gotta be let in first, though, so he's playing the role of mentor or chill superior officer or whatever until jean relaxes around him and starts to let his guard down. because despite jean's apprehensions- he's heard about gool ol' dick mullen, after all- harry can be funny, kind, and very good at his job. so maybe everyone was wrong- maybe, to him, harry will be good. maybe this partnership will work out. jean finds himself liking harry and caring about him. harry catches onto this, because of course he does, and the backslide begins.

it starts off minor. more hangovers at work, a little speed off the bathroom mirror. but it's fine because they're still getting work done. harry snaps at him a little, but it's just a rough patch. it's okay. they're not just work partners anymore, they're friends. maybe they're more, although they'd never put a name to it. they go to each other's places and they talk and smoke and drink and shoot the shit about anything they can think of: the world, the pale, the cases. it's an easy thing. a dangerous routine. if jean starts drinking more, to match harry- it's fine. at least it's in company. and all the while harry is getting openly worse, getting completely hammered at work, having more outbursts than actual conversations, lashing out at everyone. jean is no longer safe from it. jean no longer abstains from it either. and it's still jean's responsibility as his partner to take care of him, to keep him going. harry does not usually seem to care about reciprocating, but that's not the point. it's jean's job and, unfortunately, he cares. he's not sure what he would do without harry, now. he's not sure what harry would do without *him*.

harry the can-opener realizes what they've become- codependent, inseparable- and starts spiraling rapidly. he has the freedom to, now. jean talks to him about the drinking, and harry tries to kick it, and jean really believes in him. believes in him when he fails, when he tries again a few weeks later. over and over again until harry stops trying. says he wants to get worse. and jean gets it, at first. only at first. he's depressed too, he understands the suicidal thoughts and tendencies, understands how easy it is to get trapped in an addiction. he knows how important his support is to harry's continued survival.

but it's like everything harry does is to hurt him. screams at him and threatens him and leverages anything he can against him, including very personal things he's pried out of him, then shows up at his door with tears in his eyes and a gun in his hand telling jean that he's sorry, he's never going to do it again, he's going to make sure of it. and jean, still raw and angry from their fights, invites him in, takes the gun from his hand and talks him down and drinks with him, because what else is there to do? jean will never lay down and take it, has no interest in being the better person anymore- he knows every little nasty detail of harry's life by now, and he's not shy about digging his nails into harry's scars- but when everything is said and done, when all the punches have been thrown, he's still going to be there. he's going to be around to bandage the knuckles harry just hit him with because this is it. there's nothing else for either of them.

it doesn't matter that harry lies to him- about what he's been doing, how he's feeling, about where their belongings end up or where the money went, about things he did on a case. it doesn't matter that harry provokes the shit out of him until he's screaming himself raw, then lays down and cries about it until *he's* the one apologizing. it doesn't matter that harry only gets worse, and that somehow he's the one blamed for it. every day they rip each other apart because at least that way they can feel something. it's easy to scream at someone knowing they'll scream back, and then come sleep in your bed anyway. neither of them is going to leave except by death, and they both know it.

there's a complete erosion of boundaries between them. luiga himself confirmed their codependency. if something was jean's, it was harry's too, and vice versa. everything was each other's business. there was nothing kept apart between them. harry cracked jean open and gutted him, so jean did the same to him. they understood each other *too* well, so they knew exactly how to hurt each other, and they did just that. and that's the sad part, that they were so completely exposed with one another- it could have been so good for them. harry could have been a better person and so could jean. they might have been able to heal together. but we see jean's ableist hostility towards harry in the ending: jean has lost all patience for harry. there is no sympathy left.

and you wonder: why, now, does jean call it quits? why, after several years of mutual destruction, does jean draw a line in the sand here? well, obviously- he's been rejected. harry told him to fuck off in martinaise, which of course was not new behavior, but usually harry would come back to cry and beg and plead with him not to leave him. and harry's not doing that. harry doesn't even know who he *is*. harry is running around with this guy he barely knows, and he's functional and they're not having screaming matches, and when harry does finally approach him, he just twists the knife right in by insisting this new guy is cooler. he thinks jean is an asshole now, and not in the way he did before where he thought it was fun to fuck with him. jean is nothing to him, in the most thorough and all-consuming way possible. harry doesn't even know his *name*.

so, fine. harry dumped him. harry's not coming back to him, and he's sure as hell not going to put in the work to rebuild that bridge, not when he should have burned it years ago anyway. and if that's how it's going to be, he's got some things to say. he's going to make it hurt for harry as much as it hurts for him. maybe he doesn't believe every single thing he says in the ending, or not fully, but it doesn't matter. he's going to say everything he can to hurt harry because harry is leaving him, and they already failed each other a long time ago.

[dollscircus]

Swing first, ask later. Chapter 2

(In my defence , I was trying to help a dog)

Chapter 1

Arkham Knight Jason Todd x vet!Reader

Words: 2.6k

Tags: Violence. Violence against reader. but they're fiiiiine.

Synopsis: You have little impulse control so when you slip through a fence to chase a stray dog, you get a lot more then you bargained for.

-

Maybe I should’ve thought more about those nights’ events going through the next few weeks but I kinda- pushed it to the back of my mind. Listen- being a vet can be stressful when half of the patients want to bite me in the face and sometimes even their bitchy owners want to do the same. It’s a struggle so yeah, I kinda forgot about it. Forgot isn’t the right word- pushed back? Sure. That works.

But back on topic, I was walking down the street during a usual rainy night in Gotham. I had gotten a call from a local that they had stopped a large stray dog wondering around near an old warehouse. They didn’t tell me much, but apparently the dog had been limping so I wanted to get there as soon as possible. The warehouse was old, so I didn’t pay it much mind which searching around for the dog.

Eventually I noticed a little white head poking from behind a dumpster, his fur was messy and dirty. He watched me curiously, I paused for a moment while looking at the dog.

“Oh hey handsome.” I smiled, kneeling down where I stood while pulling a small tub of wet dog food out of my bag. “I’ve got some food for you.”

I popped open the tub and set it on the ground slowly pushing it forward, the dog ever so slowly crept out from behind the dumpster. I couldn’t tell what breed the dog was, clearly a mix of many breeds. He sniffed the air while creeping closer, he was limping on his back left leg. I stayed as still as I could as the dog creeped closer, looking at me with big fearful sad eyes.

“It’s ok buddy, I’m not going to hurt you.” I said softly to him as he reached the tub, sniffing at the food for a few moments before he started to eat very quickly. I chuckled softly while watching him eat, a part of me wanted to reach out and pet him but decided against it.

I smiled softly while watching the dog, but a sudden sound caused both the dog and I to jump. The sound was probably as cat running around in the darkness. The dog scattered away from me with a little yelp, I cursed while watching the dog slip under a gap in the fence that surrounded the warehouse. This gave me a quick but decent look at his back leg. There was a wire tightly wrapped around his leg. The skin looked raw and infected.

“Fuck.” I cursed while gathering up the food tub and shoving it back into my bag. Logically, I’ve seen enough horror movies to know that crawling through a fence to a sketchy warehouse is a really terrible idea. Stupid. Reckless but hey, I grew up on the streets of Gotham. I’ve been in worst places.

The torn fence scratched at me a little while I crawled under the fence on my hands and knees, my hips got caught for a moment before I used all of my weight to pull myself forward. I huffed while standing up to look at my dirty hands, grumbling under my breath while wiping my hands on my pants.

Scanning around, I tried to spot the dog luckily I spotted the pup pretty quickly and he was standing by another dumpster watching me.

“Hey puppy.” I smiled while slowly walking over to the dog who was watching me with big curious eyes, I knelt down and offered my hand out with some dog treats. He sniffed my hand, clearly thinking for a moment before he started to eat. I chuckled softly when seeing his tail start to wag.

“Yeah, that’s the stuff. That’s our fancy treats.” I smiled while my other hand reached for the slip on leash I carried in my bag, I made sure to move very slowly while slipping it over his head. He didn’t seem to mind, licking my hand as his tail wagging weakly.

“See? I’m not so scary.” I chuckled softly before another sound startled me, one of the metal doors of the warehouse slamming open. Oh fuck. I snapped my head to look over my shoulder, only to come face to face with a heavily armoured guy, he had a cigarette between his teeth about to light it before he slowly turned his head over to me. I tensed up.

God fucking dammit. The one time my body picked freeze. Thanks.

The next few moments were filled with cursing, barking and snarling. It was mostly all a blur, I think- I bit him? I tasted blood between my teeth, and felt blood dripping down my head when he slammed my head into the dumpster then the scream he let out when the dog sunk his teeth into his arm and wrenched it side to side ripping flesh.

The next clear memory I had was scrambling up to my feet, the leash still in hand (woah 10 outta 10 priorities there) and trying to run away with the dogs whose muzzle was still dripping with blood. My head was spinning with pain as I tried to run away but a sudden white hot pain shot through my calf sending my tumbling to the ground. I looked back at my leg, it seeped with blood. Looking further back I saw the man I just struggled with still holding the gun he shot my leg with.

He shot me. He fucked shot me!? Oh- that mother fucker-

I let go of the leash so the dog wasn’t tied to me and the dog ran away whimpering. I winced in pain while looking at my leg then flickering my eye up to the man while he spoke into a radio attached to his chest. Soon he stood over me, the swirling head pain stopped me from making out what he was really saying. I could see the blood splatter across his face- ooo I bit off some of his ear.

He said something but my head was killing me. All sounds seemed so distant and my head felt heavy. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. Please. I begged myself while looking up at the figure. Fear and anger swirled in my chest while I tried to keep myself awake but I was quickly fading.

As everything seemed so distant and painful, another figure was approaching quickly. It was vaguely familiar but I couldn’t make out much. My vision was hazy when the figure swung for the first man, fist slamming into his temple.

Huh. That reminded me of someone?

—

I don’t know what I expected to wake up to when I passed out, I remembered the sound of bones cracking from the figure striking the man who attacked me. I woke up to warmth, warmth surrounding me as I woke up. My body was sore, aching with a dull pain while my heavy eyes tried to open. I didn’t know where I was, blinking in the dull light while I started to sit up in the cot bed I was laying in. I blinked a few times when seeing the dog, I was trying to catch curled up at the bottom of the bed. Back leg wrapped in a bandage.

Confusion clouded a lot of my judgment while looking around, welded metal walls. A desk in the corner of the room covered in papers. I couldn’t make out what else was written on the papers from this distance. I tried to move when pain shot through my leg, I hissed in pain before looking down at my bandaged leg. Where was I?

I glanced over the room again but jumped when seeing him on a chair in the corner of the room, sitting on a chair with his arms crossed over his check. The Arkham Knight. I stared at him, thinking back to the last thing I remembered before passing out. The figure. It was him and that punch. He swung with his whole body. I remembered Jason swinging his punches like that.

“You shouldn’t try to move to much yet.” He said after a moment of staring at each other. That almost made me laugh. I frowned a little at him.

“You patched me up.” I said, looking down at the bandage. The criss cross pattern caught my attention. Huh. Memories from my childhood flashed through my mind. Kneeling behind a dumpster while Jason wrapped up my arm after a stray cat I was trapping clawed up my arm painfully.

“I’m not as skilled with my hands as you.” He said, arms still crossed over his chest.

“Why?” I asked, eyes flicking down when the dog raised his head and yawned. Wagging his tail at me. The knight tilted his head to the side ever so slightly.

“Repaying the favour.” He said, like it was a very simple fact but I didn’t believe that completely. I moved to swing my legs off the bed, he tensed a little at my movement but I barely noticed it.

“There’s gotta be more to it. You could’ve just dumped me as the hospital or something.” I said, looking down to the dog who started to shuffle down the bed to sniff at my arm. I smiled softly at the dog while reaching down to pet the top of his head. The knight huffed, the sound coming out distorted by the helmet.

“That would be rude to the person you didn’t call the cops of me, when they really should’ve.” He said, voice a mix with amusement and irritation. I suddenly remembered comparing him to a stray dog, embarrassment crept up my neck.

“Then what about the dog? You didn’t owe him anything.” I raised an eyebrow at him. He didn’t respond staring at me, I couldn’t read him behind the helmet. Another question lingered in the back of my mind that I pushed away.

“What happened to the guy that shot me?” I asked another question furrowing my brow a little, he didn’t respond at first. I thought he wouldn't answer me at all until he did so.

“He’s dead.” He said, a few moments passed between us. “Does that scare you?”

I thought for a moment, did it? Maybe it was a little morbid. The guy shot me but I didn’t like someone dying.

“Scare me? No, I don’t- like it.” I said, fingers brushing through the fur of the dog. “If you were going to hurt me, you’d have done it already.”

He seemed to bristle a little, adjusting his position on the uncomfortable chair he was perched on. I looked back on my leg before I started to try and pull myself up. “I appreciate the help but I need to go-”

Pain seared through my leg as I started to fall forward, losing balance due to the sudden shock of pain. I cursed feeling myself about to fall but I felt arms bracing against my shoulders. I flicked my eyes up to the knight as he was suddenly leaning over my body as his hands kept me steady.

He said my name, “You can't be moving around on that leg yet.” He warned. I didn't realise how much bigger than me, he was until he was leaning over me and looking down at me. I can't pin point why the way he said my name really clued me in. I can’t describe it. It had a softness to it that Jason even as rough as he could be sometimes always said my name with.

“Well, I’ve never really been the careful type. You remember that, don’t you?” I said, looking up at his helmet. I could see his whole body tense a little. A long moment of silence stretched on. He knew what I was implying.

I know who you are.

“You’re right, you weren’t ever the careful type.” Jason said, his body language tense. Like a spring about to snap. A small smile crossed my face, tilting my head to the side. A few feelings rushed through me. How the hell did Jason become- this? I mean- the whole get up is kinda hot. Woah woah. Let’s not go that direction.

Didn’t know masks did something for me. Let’s not unpack that.

“Jason.” I said, voice slightly hushed while he set me back in the cot. Winced slightly at my leg. He leaned back, not moving away from the cot and just standing over me. “It’s been a long time.”

“It has been. Not how I thought this would go.” He said, taking a little step back after a moment. Jason tilted his head to the side a little, he still seemed tense.

“You thought about this?” I asked, a little smile crossing my face. Jason huffed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. I could exactly what expression he was making in that moment, the memory of a slightly more baby faced Jason making that exact sound.

“Don’t get all cheeky with me.” Jason scoffed, but he had zero heat behind it. “Even now you’re a trouble maker.”

I huffed, reaching over pet the dog beside me. “That guy attacked me first, I was happy to just walk away.”

He huffed behind that helmet, body language tightening. He turned his face away while he foot tapped the ground in irritation, “You know better to creep around warehouses like that.”

He was right, I sighed while rolling my shoulder uncomfortably. “I know, I was just worried about the dog.”

“You should worry about yourself more.” Jason said. I shrugged while rubbing my arm and scratching at my jaw. I flicked my eyes down to the dog who was now resting his muzzle on my thigh, I looked over the bandages around his back leg.

“Says the man who bandaged up the dog.” I raised a brow at him.

“You’d have been angry if I let the dog run away before anyone could help him.” He huffed, irritation in his voice but it didn't have much real anger behind it.

I let out a very light amused chuckle, looking up at the helment and trying to imagine what his face could look like now. “What happened?” I asked before I could stop myself, wincing at little at my own words. Jason turned his head back to me, even with the helmet I could feel the weight of his gaze on me.

“Nothing you should be involved with.” He said, that lightness in his voice replaced by some coldness that wounded my heart. I frowned, a look I knew made me look all sad and pathetic. But I knew it would always work on Jason.

“Don’t give me that look.” He said after a moment, I let out a indugnet sound while flicking my eyes away. Jason let out a little sigh before he started to talk again, “Rest your leg, I’ll take you home later?”

I looked up at him as he started to turn on his heal to walk away, I blinked a few times before I hoped my mouth to speak but the words died in my throat. It had been so long since we saw each other, god knows has driven Jason to that point. Nothing good. I watched him leave the little room I was in.

I sighed while sitting in the quiet for a few moments, the dog whined a little to get my attention. Looking down at the scruffy dog, I smiled weakly. “Yeah. He’s always been like that.”

I laid back on the cot. God my body fucking hurt.

[ssreeder]

hello!!!!!

i started reading liab two weeks ago i think? and i just finished "risking it all" and i

i could scream?? in a good but also not good way?? like bro what was that omg. THE GOODBYE KISS? AZULA? REHO AND JET? i can't

lowkey almost scared to start "into the fire" but erm.. the zukka hyperfixation is real and i don't think i can stop after making it this far

so far reading the series has been a rollercoaster holy moly

you had me giggling and kicking my feet when zukka finally kissed help but the scenes between katara and hakoda/the gaang and iroh when they talked about sokka/zuko being dead?? i was so close to full on BAWLING. and bato's backstory?? i cried

i'm still not over eve and v btw

i have so much to say but i don't really know what that stuff is

but dude holy moly i love your fics and i'm so excited to keep reading

you've done such a good job in portraying the characters and their emotions and everything

this series has been consuming my thoughts ever since i started reading it, i can't begin to tell you how much i look forward to reading the rest

ok i'm just yapping atp but seriously your stuff is so cool

idk what else to say help but i hope you have a lovely day!!!!

THE FUCKING GOOOOODDDBBBYYYEEEE KISS!!!

I know they’re so dramatic haha, I can’t deal with them sometimes.

I will warn you the beginning of ITF is… ROUGH, but it lightens up a lot. If you have craved more wholesome interactions you’ll get that in ITF (but the boys are still RIDDLED with trauma so it’ll never be coffee shop AU sweet, it’s just not that kind of fic)

If you enjoy Bato you’ll be happy that he gets some attention in ITF and I am excited/scared for his character haha ;)

THANK YOU FOR THIS AMAZING COMMENT!!!!!

Seriously… I get horribly insecure at random times and when I get asks like this it reminds me people do enjoy my writing & that I shouldn’t be so damn insecure all the time haha. (Seriously thank you thank you thank youuuuu!!)

I hope you enjoy ITF! Come tell me if you do!

[abbysratking]

I've been using the concept of Lae'zel's action surge a bit in this wip and have become attached to the idea of Lae'zel being able to move at double speed for 6 seconds at will

[theflagscene]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: ภาพนายไม่เคยลืม | Last Twilight (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Night/Porjai (Last Twilight) Characters: Night (Last Twilight), Porjai (Last Twilight) Additional Tags: First Kiss, Pregnancy, Love Confessions, Getting Together, One Shot, Missing Scene Summary: Night waits for Porjai at the hospital, meeting her after her obgyn appointment to check in with her and confessing what he really hoped could happen between them.

(Set during episode ten)

[orchidbutch]

steadily working on that WIP... wrote almost a thousand words today and somehow am STILL not on the climactic scene that inspired the damn thing! i think i have maybe 1-2 more scenes to go? i hope? unless they decide to run off and do their own thing again lol

[jamiesfootball]

under the cut for discussions about discussions about Amsterdam, just in case.

That awful morning was the morning Roy finally got to know Simon. Longest six hours of his life.

"Oh dear," Simon said by way of an apology. He grabbed another tissue. "You'll have to pardon me. I did my best to stay strong for Georgie until you boys got here, but--"

"It's fine," Roy reassured him. "I get it."

"Can I get you another cup of tea?"

Roy nodded. Simon toddled along. The noise from the television pattered softly, not nearly loud enough to drown out the sorrow from upstairs, but they didn't turn it up any higher. Mother and son deserved their privacy.

"Here you are, m'boy," Simon said when he returned with a fresh mug. With half his hair gone to the light, Roy was about as far from a boy you could be before people preemptively began offering you senior discounts. Hell, Simon and him could've gone to school together.

But the word was warm like the mug was warm. Sometimes people just needed the warmth.

"Thanks," he said. He drank his tea.

“She didn’t know,” Simon blurted out. “Didn’t know at all. Not the kind of call ones prepared for in the wee hours of the morning, that.” Then, like it was a scab he couldn't stop picking at, “Did Jamie think—?”

It was Jamie, was the thing. Jamie, who could be sensitive to the slight degree shift in mood, but who could take a direct statement and twist it into something awful and crooked like a scorpion’s tail. Jamie, who held his bruises close to his chest and never seemed to know when he should call for help. “Dunno,” Roy answered with a shrug. Couldn’t go back and fix it now, could they?

Couldn't fix anything lately.