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#but I'm gonna try to have a chill evening

annashockeystories · 2 days

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Javis pls:)))) sm would be cool. Maybe somethink were they alredy are ik a relation ship. LUV UR WORK BTW

Movie Nights

Pairing: Seth Jarvis x reader

Summary: Seth and his girlfriend have a chill night in.

Warnings: Smut 18+, unprotected sex

Authors note: Thank you, babes, I hope you enjoy. Sorry, it took so long exams, lol <3

The hurricane season finished a few days ago, and though Seth had recovered from the loss, he wasn't quite ready to go home yet. This brought you both to right now: the flight to Winnipeg was in four days, and you planned to live in the same apartment next year, so there was not much to do packing-wise. Which meant a movie night was in order, so you he picked some horror movie and you snuggled into his side.

Since the beginning of your relationship, you have watched horror movies despite both hating them. Normally, you would get progressively more cuddly until the movie would be turned off, and you would fuck. You knew tonight would be no different, so you unpacked the takeout order and hit play.

About thirty minutes later, you were sitting in his lap, making out with him. Pulling away, you noticed the bit of food on his face. You began to giggle, and he looked at you. "You have cake on your face, baby," you teased. He smiled with the cheekiest smile look in his eyes.

"Lick it off then," you laughed at him but immediately do it. Once you got the cake, you went down to his neck and began biting and kissing. “oh fuck,” he groaned as you continued kissing him down the chest. He paused for a moment to pull off his shirt. You do the same, gently tugging your hurricanes sleep shirt over your head exposed you tits. Before even looking over to Seth you feel his mouth on your nipple kissing gently.

“Oh please,” you whine as he continues. He flips you over so you’re sitting on the couch, and he’s between your legs, pulling your sleep shorts off and kissing your inner thighs. "Seth, please, I need you," you cried.

"Pretty baby," he mocks as he finally puts his mouth on you. You cry out his name and put your hands into his hair. He groans, the vibrations causing the feeling to intensify, and suddenly everything went black and euphoria washed over you.

After a few seconds, you opened your eyes to see Seth gently kissing your jaw. "How ya feeling, baby," he cooed into your ears.

"Like I should return the favour," you whisper, attempting to stand up but immediately falling due to the weakness in your legs from the previous activities.

Seth catches you and picks you up, carrying you to the bedroom. When you get there, he lays you down and hovers over you, kissing you again. "Maybe I should help you with that," he teased, looking at where your hands were desperately trying to reach out for him.

"I wanna be on top," you said, "but you're too heavy, and I can't move," you continued to tease him.

"HOW DARE YOU," he jokingly shouts, you giggle, pushing him off. Suddenly, you twist around, pushing him back and straddling him. You had gotten your way, and you were on top. He had taken his shorts off when the two of you entered the bedroom, so all you had to do was just yourself onto him.

"Oh fuck baby," he groaned out as you slowly sunk; he was a good size, average length, but lots of girth. Despite the two of you doing this for almost two years, he was still a tight fit, and you could barely think when he was inside you. You were moaning wildly while barely having the strength to lift yourself off him.

Suddenly, Seth pushed himself up, so while you were still on top, he was sitting up, moving you up and down. "Pretty girl, doing so good," he grunted into your ear, making you cry his name. You knew it drove him insane hearing you call his name out. He moved your hips faster and began grunting louder.

This continued for another few minutes before you felt your orgasm approaching, "Seth, I'm gonna."

"I know, baby. Let go for me," he encouraged, going even deeper, which a minute ago you would've said was impossible.

Suddenly, your vision went blurry, and your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Everything went completely black, and it felt so fucking good. When it finally settled down a minute later, you felt him cum in you; he cried out your name and a string of curse words.,

After a few seconds, he fell back onto the bed still inside you, pulling you down to kiss you. You brushed hair out of his face as he mumbled sweet nothings in your ear.

All in all, a pretty good night in.

#seth jarvis x reader #seth jarvis #nhl x reader #seth jarvis smut #seth jarvis fanfiction #seth jarvis imagine #seth jarvis fic #carolina hurricanes #nhl smut

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sphaxcca · 1 day

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My Candy Love New Gen ep. 4 Review

Here I am after finishing the last episode of MCL New Gen ready to give my honest and unasked opinion about it. Fasten your seatbelts cause we are about to start and i'm not gonna be gentle

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT...

So the episode opens with Elenda who's basically trying to drag us so bad to the Cosey Bear because apparently Castiel was serving there ( No judgement toward Elenda, i wanted to see my husband too). Unfortunately for me and her, he already had left when we showed up to the Cafe. >3>.

Seeing Lynn animated was so cute and a little bit nostalgic but nothing compared to the GASP I emitted when she started talking to Thomas and he told her he was in love with her. GEEEEZ, now i get why that kid was a pain in the ass and RUINED my pic-nic date with Tomato head, THE DOTS CONNECTED. Btw it was a very cute scene and a tribute to Iris that I hope she will show up in Thomas' route.

Moving on, inspired by Thomas' love confession, everybody starts talking about their love life (expected since the episode's name is hearts looking for love). And this is where things went horribly cringe and outrageous: Ofc i'm not talking about Elenda and Devon ( It was cute to know that she had a crush on Devon and, about him, a little peak to where the story is possibly going to lead - a busy man that works his ass off so bad for Devenementiel and has no time to date)or Amanda but about ROY and BRUNE.

Hoooooly shit, the chill of second hand embarassment that I got just by reading the interractions between these two was undescribable I swear( Elenda became basically my guide spirit: her reaction was the same i had. ). Everything was so outofcontext and nonsense that I'm actually wondering why Beemov decided it was a great idea to give space to something so....childish? I mean, we're talking about (almost) 30yo people.. and they got together because they were...desperate??????? - "Yeah with my exes things weren't doing good so we decided to date even tho we don't talk, don't touch and fell uncomfortable with each other" - COOOME ON, BFR, you guys ok? Also, I really hope that we're gonna discover something deeper about Roy (or that he's going to get a development at least) that makes him more that what i can pick up and feel from him right now: childish Gymrat fixed on pool that give us nothing. I'm genuine deluded about the way they handled this.

Moving on to JASON PART. He basically shows up when we're still talking sitted by the table. I was obviously expecting the part where he was going to be pointed out as a "womanizer" but what I DID NOT EXPECT was the reaction he had when he overhears our conversation: I felt him being sarcastic as usual but at the end i felt he was kinda....hurt??? idk if you get what i mean, he literally said he had REASONS why he doesn't want to be in full term relationship and this opens my mind to an INFINITE AMOUNT OF THEORIES

Connected to what I've read on some theories here, someone said it's because of the condition ( or the pathology) that made his hair go white...

This is a really good point but I genuine think about something else that is connected to this and the SHOCK NUMBER 2: Why Devenementiel hates Jason so much?

Apparently our "proud and superior" man with an incredible fragile ego had PLAGIARIZED the project the would have helped Devon to found Devenementiel and, because of that, he was fired and disqualified by the contest. So...first things first: PIECE OF SHIT. Secondly, I genuine would have never thought about him doing something like this and that's the reason why i don't think he did it because he wanted to but perphaps he WAS PUSHED to do so.

Another theorie said that probably he was helped by a third person that played dirty and suggested him the same project Devon did

And I have to admit that this is something very likely, but stil don't really convince me too much.

We can clearly see that Jason has a lot of money, A LOT, and by the way he has so much money i'm assuming he comes from a family that at least has the same amount of capital he has now. We got told that he was basically working as an employer (if i remember correctly) so why trying to steal something from others if you are satisfied and don't need a job? perhaps because you NEED that first place to REDEEM yourself and PROVE someone wrong at least so that.. THE END JUSTIFIES THE MEANS. That's where his family and the white hair make their part: A Dad Ceo that basically disgraced his Son because he couldn't follow or keep up with the family business or - he wasn't good enough- for the role ( and that's why the white hair, because of the stress) . Another thing that might prove this is the fact that Devon told us that he had "private investors" and...i mean, if you're broke, i don't think you can find them just by snapping your fingers and make them appear in front of you, especially when you get fired and disqualified in a competition. He could have use the "family" name and hi charisma to persuade the investors to help him found Goldreamz. And THIS leads me to the last point: Why no long term relationship? Because his family has to end with him and he's scared of the consequences that a partner can have in his life. This reminded me so much Simon from Bridgerton btw. So yeah...I might be wrong (99%) but i want to think that he's a piece of shit just because he's hurt.

His special scene was normal i guess, i love the way my candy was looking at the instagram photos be like - "i'm just studying the enemy...not doing something wrong..maybe".

In the end i decided to try for the Thomas illustration and nothing to complain about, the scene was genuine one of the most cute one in the game so fare and the ilusstration 10/10 chef's kiss and handshake by the president.

#mcl new gen #amour sucre #my candy love #my candy love new gen #mcl #mcl jason #amor doce #beemoov #dolce flirt #corazón de melón #mcl new gen review #amour sucre new gen #corazon de melon new gen #mcl roy #mcl devon #mcl amanda #mcl thomas

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

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I'm seeing a lot of asks about this and I want to give my two cents: I'm cool with Bruce being a bad father, but only if DC admits that he is a bad father.

You can't have him doing downright abusive shit only to never address it. The only character that consistently criticizes Bruce parenting is painted as entitled and vindictive. I genuinely think the reason why we can't have a decent Red Hood arc is because if you want Jason to make sense you're gonna have to admit Bruce is a fucked up father or rewrite canon.

Same reason for Tim "never aging", not so much physically but emotionally. Because to have the character establish itself like Nightwing did you would need to address at some point all the bullshit he went through. Even with Dick. Like sometimes it looks like they want to recognize how being raised by Batman fucked him up by they end up settling for "oh it's the pressure". Like that's the most DC will say "Batman puts his kids under a lot of pressure buuuuuut it's justified because they're fighting evil :)".

Not just the kids, I think Batman himself would be so much more interesting if DC was willing to let him confront these things. As a redemption arc or as a fatal flaw that keeps his family at arms length. But they want to have their cake (have Batman be edgy and give the Robins Character Development™ through good old child abuse) and eat it (have Batman be Dad of the year). And that's what doesn't work.

Batfam fandom is great because you have people making content for Good Father Bruce, Bad Dad Bruce (he's trying and it's a bit funny/tragic), Awful Father Bruce (with no intention of changing. Every option is way more interesting than DC's directionless mess. Like, we don't even need them to make Bruce Good™ we just want them to pick a side and stick to it.

Thank you. My gods that sums it up perfectly.

Like, I've got no problem consuming Good Dad Bruce content... if it's not the comics. The animated stuff is usually fine, and fanwork is also great. There's a ton to like about it.

Hell, I'm even chill if Bruce makes mistakes and errors and fucks up with his kids. That's realistic, as long as they address that he did, in fact, do that shit. They need to talk about how his actions have hurt his kids and his relationships with them. He can try to do better, or he can stay distant with his kids because of it (low to no contact). It's truly not that difficult to chat about.

Now, media that addresses all of the horrid stuff he's done and considers realistic reactions/solutions to it? Fantastic. I love that so much. It's so cathartic watching him get his ass handed to him.

It's not necessary, though. I'm chill with good dad Bruce.

Despite that, outright ignoring what he does or brushing it under the rug? That's horrific. That reads like a sickening cycle of abuse, and I can't stand it. It's the exact same shit an abuser pulls by harming their victim (psychologically, mentally, physically, etc.), apologizing (ish), finding a way to pin the blame back on the victim, and then love bombing. Like, my gods. Bruce will beat the shit out of Jason and say it's Jason's fault for killing someone... "I wouldn't harm you/take a machine to permanetly fuck up your brain if you didn't do that. It's not my fault that I decided to hurt you. It's your fault that I did."

I just fucking can't.

I think Tim, with his little statement of "I don't expect you to apologize" after Bruce caused him to have a nervous breakdown post 16th birthday, that's a close approximation to admitting that Bruce is a piece of shit that does tendencies like an abuser. No matter what someone's intentions are, they should still apologize if they've cause unjustified/unintentional harm. Only assholes who don't regret their actions or people who feel their actions are justified won't apologize. There's times when apologizing isn't necessary or desired. That's fine. I won't apologize if Comic!Bruce and I are in a room, and I "accidentally" set him on fire.

Yet, Bruce is out here fucking up his kids. At the very LEAST, they deserve a fucking apology. Maybe a restraining order.

I ranted a bit. My bad. Anyways, have DC acknowledge the shitty actions Bruce does or don't have him do them. It's simple.

#dc comics #thank you for the ask!!!!#bruce wayne bashing #tw abuse #tw child abuse

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softesttangerines · 7 months

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As someone who LOVES a good old time travel au, and after seeing amazing fanart of kid!Mihawk i have to let it out!!

I just wanna read a time travel fic where baby Mihawk wakes up and finds himself in the world of adult Mihawk and he's like wtf is going on?

And word goes around that a kid that looks exactly like Hawkeyes and carries the same cross knife as him is roaming around this island and rumors say it's the son he abandoned to fend for himself.

And so, marines and every pirates he ever wronged come after him for revenge and the little guy is just thinking why is everyone trying to get me? While doing his best with his cross dagger to rid of them.

And Shanks, good ol' shanks could have sworn that if his old rival had an 9years old, he would know about it (also he refuses to let the bitter taste in his heart take over unless his own eyes see) so he's skeptical about the whole thing and that's the only thing that gets him to leave his hideout in a reclused ghost island waiting for whatever is his big plan to take place.

News say Red Shanks is on the move after being mia for a few years and everyone got their panties in a twist, what could have raised the emperor from the dead.

He follows from island to island because apparently the young boy knows how to avoid the marines and pirates coming after him.

Till one night, on their stop at some bar on an island that wasn't really on the plan, he sees the boy. Just outside the bar in an alley, where he went to empty his guts from the booze overfilling his body, there stood bloody faced, cross dagger in one hand, a tiny version of his old rival with a bounty hunter's body at his feet.

The boy furrows his eyebrows even more at the new arrival and strikes another pose in case the new guy tries something funny. But Shanks, drunk ass Shanks, who knows his rival by heart is a 100% sure the little guy is in fact his rival for whatever magical reason, there he stands in front of him in the form of an 9years old and Shanks giggles at that -to which the child takes great offense- and just say "hey kid, i'm a friend of your dad's, want me to take you to him?"

#mishanks #Ok so here I'm running with the fandom's theory that rayleigh is mihawk's dad #And after getting all these murder attempts on his person he's just so fckn tired of anyone that approaches him So he's completely on guard #when this red haired dude comes out of nowhere n tells him he knows his dad #Which no one did before all they did was charge at him screaming HAWKEYES YOU'RE GONNA REGRET WHAT YOU DID #And here's the thing #he may be inclined to believe the red haired guy because no one knows his relation to rayleigh #so this guy must really know his dad and he's tired of running all the time he just wants his bed and parents #so cut him some slack when he follows a random one armed red haired pirate #On the other hand the crew is equally creeped out and charmed by the little fella because even young he still installs the chills in them #How can he be as equally as skilled as he is cuuuuute #They try their best not to say it to his face because he threatens to stab them at any given chance but they cant HELP IT #it's Dracule Fucking Mihawk as an 9years old!!!! Ofc he's cute #Shanks cant fucking wait to get his adult Mihawk back to tease the shit out of him about the little version of him lol #When they got him to rayleigh he fckn cried because that's his fckn son znd the last time he saw hus baby that way was more than 30years ag #Mihawk is just confused as fuck why is his dad's grey n have much more wrinklesBut it's still one familiar face so he just sticks to him #The red haired pirate keeps telling him that he should look for him when he gets home but he doesn't understand!!!#He also keeps challenging shanks on a duel once he discovers he's a swordsman and keeps on losing #And truth be told shanks is embarrassed as fuck because it took him his rival being a child for him to win over mihawk #opla #one piece #mihawk #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #shanks

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snixx · 2 months

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making new friends irl is so nerve wracking but also so exciting. I remember how much I used to panic over sending my now best friend one text or randomly calling her and look how that turned out BUT also I've given wayy too much of myself to people who ended up not caring and hurting me and it's such a gamble to trust people but I really think it's worth it but why does EVERYTHING feel like such a big step and so scary like??? can we hang out when we're not in college? how often can I text you to hang out before it becomes too much?? can I say I love you?? can I give you a high five? can we hug?? AKFHDGDHHDDH I LIKE YOU SO MUCH. and I know you like me too but I've been known to come on way too strong and and and god I can't wait to get to know you even more. yeah I'm going insane. bye

#vagueposting the shit out of tumblr dot com #and then repeat cycle #but I'm glad im back to having enthusiasm about it cause I haven't been able to summon it for a while #and I've been getting more jaded and bitter lately cause i lost some of the people closest to me #but I'm glad im getting my hope back #god its hard and i keep falling on my face but every so often. every so often ill meet someone who'll make all the trying worth it #ahhhhhhhhh #ok no. but I'm gonna be chill this time. i promised myself. i can do this. it's gonna get better #and that's not even getting started on my unreliable ass energy levels #anyway. god i should sleep

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practicalsolutions · 2 years

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Really really mad at a secret level in ultrakill.

There's an enemy in a dark level that can 1 hit KO you but you can't see it. I actually tried to wait outside a vent to see this creature and never did. Too dark? Invisible? Idk. I ragequit the level and looked at the enemy list to see the horrifying thing that's been whooping my ass.. and its a fuckin scrungly stick figure looking ass thing.

I'm being bullied by this guy.

#ultrakill #also limbo is so friggin chill looking #i dig the industrial look of the prelude levels #very surprised and also confused trying to put 2 and 2 together between the game and what fans have said or drawn online #confused in a good way #love the juxtaposition of machine and theology #of human folly(because the humans are all dead and they probably tampered with hell?? sending robots to hell seems like tampering.)#or do robots go to hell on their own?#are robots sentient enough to qualify for hell #if robots could qualify for hell then ik where all the Amazon Echos are gonna end up lmao #ooc #this isn't even art so I'm not putting it in my art tag

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thethingything · 2 months

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well we accidentally fell asleep because of course we did 😒 but not quite enough to actually be a full night's sleep so I guess we'll probably nap later but I'm very torn between "oh god everything's terrible and I'm overwhelmed and feel like shit" and "okay time to work on our mental health again and get shit done and I'll probably feel better after doing like 3 basic self care tasks" but unfortunately I think about doing the tasks and I feel like screaming because accidentally waking up at your body's equivalent of midnight will do that to you

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #vent post #we have a really bad time and then shortly afterwards it's like our brain goes #''well that was a disaster. better suddenly put loads of effort into fixing shit so it doesn't happen again''#and we very quickly switch from ''everything's terrible and I can't cope with any of it''#to being very determined to get our shit together and actually fix our mental health even if that determination is fueled by rage and spite #it's very predictable at this point but also like... please can we just have a chill time for once #we keep going ''I'm gonna have a rest day and just do fun and relaxing stuff'' and then we don't do that #I should probably do that today but I also need to shower #I might shower and then go back to sleep for a while and then when we wake up I can try doing stuff that's actually relaxing and/or fun

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 1 year

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Bring Light To The Darkness

《for @magpie-trove. I don't know if fanfics are allowed as part of the @inklings-challenge, but if they are, this can probably count for my Christmas challenge offering.》

“In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness about the light, that all might believe through him. He was not the light, but came to bear witness about the light. The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.

John 1:4‭-‬9 (ESV)

The first time she walked in the creaky, rusted door of Opened Door ministries, with their name printed on a colorful, vinyl-laminated sign on the window of the storefront they were in, she was seven years old. She'd just asked her mom to cut her hair and her mom had said no, that she needs it long for the winter to keep her warm, because they don't have the money for new scarves. Walking around the corner from their apartment, which at least still has heat even if the oven is broken, makes Stephanie think that maybe her mom was right.

Mom is on the phone with the landlord. Christmas is tomorrow and they had gotten a big turkey, but now, they can't cook it. Steph, who reads all the signs on the street as the schoolbus takes her past, had slipped into her big thrift-store boots and purple coat that was a birthday present this past year and snuck out the door while Mom argued with their landlord.

"Free Christmas meal," the sign offered, in large red text. There's smaller lettering underneath it that Steph hadn't been able to make out through the frosty windows of the bus, but the boy seated next to her who she thinks is a couple grades above her and always has his nose stuck in a book had reading glasses on and told her it said "all you can eat, noon to 6pm Christmas Eve and Christmas Day". Steph sits next to that boy because he's always warm, like as in friendly but also body heat. The bus doesn't have heat. At least Steph and her mom's apartment still has that, though, and so does the building that the Christmas dinner place is in.

Steph steps, or kind of shuffles because of all her winter clothes, into the storefront (which isn't a store) at 5:58pm on Christmas Eve. There's a lot of people starting to clean up, but she got in two minutes before the doors would have been locked, so she's lucky or blessed or something. A lady takes one look at the purple and blonde poof that is Stephanie Brown and grins, a really warm kind of grin, and asks her what they can do for her.

"My mom got a turkey for Christmas," Stephanie explains, because she doesn't want these people pitying her and thinking they can't afford their own food, "But our oven broke and they can't fix it yet. So I wanted to get us a Christmas dinner and I saw your sign from the schoolbus. So. Um." She shrugs, a swishy sound because her coat rustles against itself. The lady nods understandingly.

"Does your mom know you're here, though?" Asks a younger woman from over by a table that Steph stares at for a minute, eyes wide, because it's covered in sweets.

"I left a note."

There's a murmur, maybe a bit of a laugh. "Okay then," says the first lady, the one with the warm smile. "Let's get you and your mom some Christmas dinner."

And she's led over into the room with all the food, tables piled high with turkey (light meat for Steph, dark for Mom, and lots of gravy) and potatoes (Steph likes the cheesy ones best) and vegetables (that she accepts without complaint even though she doesn't like green beans). The lady helps her fill two big grocery bags with take-boxes of food and then lets her pick out whatever desserts she wants from the table she'd seen before. Steph leaves the store that isn't a store with enough food for a week and a chorus of "God bless you, Merry Christmas" that she echoes back even though she doesn't really know what the "God bless you" part means, because she didn't sneeze or anything.

The teenager who had been there had put a little piece of paper in the bag that Steph reads once she's home and in bed, happily drowsy from turkey and a huge piece of chocolate cake.

"Opened Door chapel services:," it reads. "Saturday, 6:30pm; Sunday, 11am. Youth service Wednesday nights, 6pm. Opened Door after school program daily 3pm-5pm."

Stephanie isn't totally sure what any of that means. She's never been to church before (She's at least mostly sure that "chapel" means "church," pretty much). She doesn't think about the little church that set up in a storefront for another few years, until she's nearly eleven and her dad is out on bail (which means that the apartment's heat hasn't been paid for because her mom decided to pay to get Dad back. Even at ten and a half, Steph doesn't understand that very well) and she's sick of hearing them argue.

She climbs down the fire escape and walks around the block to where she remembers getting Christmas dinner and a smile three years ago. It's Wednesday night and she doesn't know if she's old enough to be part of the youth stuff; youth usually means kids older than her, like Jason from the bus who she hasn't seen in school for the better part of a year. She doesn't just walk in like before, she knocks, since she isn't sure she's allowed at this stuff.

"Hi," she says, when someone comes to the door. It isn't anyone she recognizes. "You have... youth stuff tonight, right?" She shoves her hands in her hoodie pockets and decides she's not going home if she's turned away here.

But the kid who opened the door (hah!) just smiles and invites her inside. "What grade are you in?" He asks. "We have different small groups for different grades."

"Sixth," she lies, because 6th grade means middle school and none of the kids in the room look younger than that.

The guy nods. "Cool," he says. "You'll be with Lynn's group, then."

Lynn is, apparently, the younger lady who'd helped Steph on Christmas Eve nearly three years ago, and she recognizes the combination of long blonde hair and purple clothes immediately. Steph sits in the circle of kids just a bit older than her and smiles as they go around the circle and introduce themselves. This is, she decides, way better than staying at home in her room while her dad tries to convince Mom that he's helping them when he really isn't. At least these people actually do help other people. At least they invited her in.

They play a game a little bit like charades, but not quite, and then Lynn hands out soft-paged Bibles with plasticky feeling blue covers and the words Holy Bible, English Standard Version printed on the front. Lynn says a lot of words that Steph doesn't understand and several kids start flipping through the thin pages. Steph tries to read over the shoulder of the person next to her, who notices and stops what she's doing. Steph pulls back, hesitating.

"Hang on, Miss Lynn," the girl says in a lightly accented voice. "I think Stephanie needs help finding the right page."

Steph wills herself not to flush or curl into herself and hide, just lets the girl — Nadia — show her how the books and chapters and verse numbers work (she doesn't understand it still, but it will start to make sense in a couple weeks). When Nadia stops thumbing through the book, it says John 1 at the top of the page in bold letters. Everything else is in tiny print that Steph has to hold close to her face to read.

"The light," Lynn says in a slightly different voice than her usual one, "Shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."

Steph likes the sound of that. She stares at the words on the page in a way that only someone still young and curious and new to all this can. When the conversation, drawn out by Lynn's leading questions, draws to a close and people start to funnel out of the store (which is definitely not a store, even if Steph got food there once), she holds the floppy, thick book with the bold word Holy and wonders if anyone would notice if she took it.

She isn't like her father, though. She isn't a criminal even if she did lie about being in middle school, and stealing doesn't sit right with her. So she walks over to Lynn, in a corner talking to one of the older kids, and waits for a break in the conversation so she can butt in.

"Uh," she says eloquently, "Can I... take this home?" She waves the Bible in question.

Lynn smiles at her, a little naturally lopsided. "Oh yeah, that's what they're here for!" she says. "You can totally take one home! I hope we'll see you here next week...?" She offers, and Steph nods. Even without the offer of free food, she thinks she likes it here.

She goes to that youth group every week from then on. It isn't like, a huge revelation, but it's fun and it gets her out of the house and they always say "come on in!" all bright and happy when she walks up, like somehow the leaders and other kids all know that Steph needs an invitation (like some kind of purple-clad vampire, or just a girl who isn't used to being welcomed). Nadia helps her find Bible verses sometimes but mostly she does it herself, but she likes sitting by a girl whose name means hope.

She learns that, about Nadia's name, a few weeks before Christmas when she's fourteen and everyone thinks she's in tenth grade instead of ninth and she still hasn't corrected them on that, even though she feels crappy for lying. "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing," reads the feather-light page that Steph maybe will always be afraid of tearing. Nadia lights up even more than she's normally bright and warm, and she tells the group of a Russian family name passed down, almost like the handing of hope from generation to generation. Steph thinks the name fits her.

The light shines in the darkness, reads the verse they'd talked about the first time Steph went to the youth meeting. That's what she wants Spoiler to be; that's what she tries to make herself. She knows the Bible verse is about the Iight of God, but she can apply it here, too, can't she? She's all eggplant-purple and golden hair and her dad is full of darkness, Batman is full of darkness, too, even though she thinks he honestly tries not to be. And if God's light can't be overcome or understood by the darkness, then it makes sense that Stephanie — Spoiler — can't be, either. She won't be.

Saturday night in late autumn, and she's sixteen and not out as Spoiler because for once, her dad is at home. Of course it's the one time the power is out, too, and Steph runs smack into her father on her way to the bathroom in the dark. He grumbles at her, something low and frustrated about how she's always in the way and she was an accident, anyway, and Steph ignores it and leans back against the closed bathroom door and tries not to cry. Mom is asleep or high, she isn't sure which, and she's too old to run to her mommy like a baby because her feelings got hurt; but she suddenly feels unwelcome even in her own house, her own life.

Her father never wanted her, her mom barely does, and Batman sure doesn't want Spoiler around. She has a wristwatch with numbers that glow in the dark and when she checks it, it's 6:30, already dark outside as it is inside and as is creeping into her heart, and. And, and, and. She's never gone to an actual chapel service at Opened Door. At least she's pretty sure she's welcome there.

She shrugs a cardigan over her plain T-shirt and leggings, feeling strangely like she needs to make herself presentable, check that her face isn't blotchy from holding back emotions. She would put on makeup, if she had enough light to do it by. Instead, she pads quietly down the hall in a worn pair of hightops and steps in exactly the right places on all the building's stairs so that they don't creak. Batman may not want her, but she hasn't learned nothing from him.

There's music coming from inside the storefront when Steph opens the door of Opened Doors, slipping inside to warm yellow light and friendly smiles of greeting even though she's ten minutes late and has been lying about her age since before she was eleven. She's heard a little of this kind of music, sometime playing in the background on a radio when she first arrives at youth group. But this is different, with a guy playing guitar on a small stage set up in the main room and a woman next to him singing and swaying. Steph stands in the doorway, transfixed.

When the song ends, another man steps onto the stage with a cordless microphone, says something about offerings, but Steph has nothing to offer. She slips into a seat in the back row and scans the room for anyone she knows, but when the people onstage start playing another song, she watches them. This is different than anything she's used to from Wednesday nights, but it's just as warm. You give life, the woman starts to sing, You are love, and Steph pays attention because talking about God is different when it's singing instead of talking. You bring light to the darkness. You give hope, restore every heart that is broken.

For the second time tonight, but for a totally different reason, Steph blinks back tears.

By Christmas, she's Robin. Basically the epitome of a light shining in darkness, in her opinion. B is definitely dark enough, and so is the Batcave. Steph, then, blonde hair and colors that are definitely not hers and maybe shouldn't be, is the counterpoint to all that. She's not here because B wanted her. She's here because she wanted to be here. Wants to. And if B's approval lights her up a little bit, then that has nothing to do with anything.

Alfred has strung some lights in a corner of the Cave. Robin colors, Steph thinks. She kind of wants to ask if there's any extras she could borrow, just for the season, since the lights on her and Mom's old plastic tree stopped working a couple years ago. Steph stares at the lights and shifts her weight from foot to foot on the training mats.

"Christmas Eve and Day are high crime days," B is saying, focused on the Batcomputer instead of her. "Police often take leave for the holiday and most people are at home; there are a lot of break-ins and robberies." He glances over his shoulder at her. "We'll need to redouble our efforts on patrol this weekend."

Steph sniffs awkwardly, gaze firmly fixed on Alfred's Christmas lights. "Actually, uh..." she squirms a little bit. "I can't patrol on Christmas Eve. I... have stuff I need to do. Commitments, ya know?" She flashes what she hopes is a bright grin to counter Batman's sudden glower.

"Family?" He asks carefully, watching her for some reaction she doesn't give. As if she wants to spend the holiday with her arch-criminal father and a drug addicted mom. As if she wants to face that.

She shakes her head. "It's a volunteering thing. Like, community service? It goes on my high school transcript. I promised I'd be there Christmas Eve, so..." she shrugs. "If that's, like... okay."

Batman stares at her a few moments longer. "I not your parent, Stephanie," he says, softer than she expected. Somehow, the words sting even though they're probably meant to be reassuring, or at least just a reminder. It isn't a rejection. "Where are you volunteering?"

Steph shrugs again. "Just a place near where I grew up. They do a Christmas dinner thing every year." She leaves out the fact that she's gone to it, and not to volunteer. B is stupid rich, she doesn't need the reminder.

He nods. "Christmas night, then?" And she nods. Light in the darkness, invitation as a counterpoint to rejection.

This year, Steph is the one doing the inviting. She grins widely at everyone who walks over Opened Doors' threshold, refills trays of food donated by church members and volunteers. It's strange, being on the other side of all this, but she's been attending Saturday night services as well as youth group every week, and they'd asked for helping hands, so. That's what she is. Seeing the light from their front window shining out into the dark of a street with broken streetlamps almost feels like coming full circle.

Steph doesn't know that in a few months she won't be Robin anymore; in a few months she'll be dead and then alive and still feeling like she's dead. Like the light in her heart has flickered out. All she knows is that it's Christmas, and she's standing in the church's kitchen (which is really just a camp stove someone brought in and a microwave they keep in the back room for popcorn at youth events; all the turkeys were cooked at people's homes and brought in this afternoon) with Lynn, who has a gold ring on the hand she keeps resting on her heavily pregnant belly, and Steph thinks things are starting over new.

"I was scared for you, at first, you know," Lynn says conversationally, nibbling at a leftover cookie. Steph is unscrewing the propane tank from the camp stove so its owner can take it home, and pauses to look over her shoulder.

"Huh?"

Lynn chuffs a soft laugh, hem of her maternity dress bouncing. "You came in here all alone that first Christmas, no parents or siblings, and I was worried for you. And then you came to youth group and I thought, she's only here because it's warm. Maybe I thought you were homeless, or didn't have good heating, since you showed up when it was cold out."

Steph checks the outlet on the propane tank, then turns around and sits cross-legged with her back to it on the kitchen floor. "I mean, you're kind of right," she admits. "I did come for the warm. But not because of why you thought. I just... I mean, you know my home life isn't the best. You guys gave me a place to come, you know?" She looks at the floor, like she'd looked at Christmas lights in a cave a couple days ago.

Lynn hums. "I never thought you'd become such a staple, though. Never thought we'd end up here." She smiles, that same smile she'd given Steph the first time they met on a Christmas Eve like this one, when Steph was tiny and Lynn had been a high schooler. "I'm glad," she adds.

Steph grins, then, too, thinking of handing lonely people a bit of warmth and welcome. "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it," she recites, because it feels fitting. "I don't think I ever stopped thinking about that after the first time. You guys are a light in the darkness." She turns back to the stove, carefully folding it up and leaning it against the wall.

Lynn hums again, then the pitch of her voice changes in a way that activates every single one of Steph's Spoiler-and-Robin instincts. The sound of hope becomes the sound of pain, and Steph swirls into action because she's wearing red and green and even though this time it means Christmas and not necessarily Robin, B's training is admittedly really good and she's grateful for it. Please, please, please, she prays in her head, absolutely incoherent because she's never delivered a baby before, and she still hasn't by the end of the night because two other women who had been volunteering usher her out of the way (she wasn't in the way) as the sound of pain becomes the sound of hope again. Joy and peace, too.

In spring, Steph dies. She isn't really Robin even though she's wearing those colors, and she spends the whole time her life is being taken from her praying, please, God, please, just as incoherent as ever. She's never been good at the praying part, always leaves the end-of-group prayers to Nadia or whoever else wants to say it. She wonders if Nadia will miss her. If Lynn will. She doesn't think B will, even though she misses him somehow even though he's with her at the end. Please, her mind screams, because it feels like the darkness is overcoming the light even though she knows in the end of all things that can't happen.

And then she's not dead again and she doesn't know what to feel. Grateful? Yeah, she is. But she doesn't feel like the hands and feet of light in the darkness anymore. She feels a little bit like a part of the darkness, and she spends a lot of time beating it back.

The floppy, blue-covered Bible she hadn't stolen still says Holy on the front even though it's beaten up and worn and she has, in fact, accidentally torn some of the delicate pages. The slip of paper listing the service times at Opened Doors is still in it as a bookmark, the words behind it highlighted in magenta Crayola marker, the closest color to purple she could find at the time. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. But the preceding verse stands out to Stephanie now, "In Him was life, and the life was the light of men." She stares at that for a long time and can't figure out how she feels about it.

Life and light, shared from Someone other than herself. That's where the light, the one that shines in the darkness and can't be overcome, the one that she's built her entire existence up around, comes from. She can't embody it by herself; Steph knows that now. Maybe she needs to be done trying.

The first time she walks in the creaky, rusted door of Opened Door ministries after she dies and is allowed to keep living (just like Jason Todd, the Red Hood, who she knows know is the same Jason she used to sit next to on the schoolbus in winter because he was warm and didn't mind her being there. She wonders if he's still warm like that.), she's seventeen years old and still hasn't cut her hair, because now that she's older she likes it long. She's still got a big purple coat (eggplant). It's Saturday night, her father is in prison and Mom is in rehab, and she hasn't been here since spring. The light still shines out the window of the storefront and the streetlight is still broken.

"It's Your breath in our lungs," sings the lady onstage when Steph walks into the sanctuary, a few minutes late as usual, and slips into the back row like she always does. "So we pour out our praise." Steph knows this song. It means more to her now, though. "Our hearts will cry, these bones will sing," says the bridge, and maybe that's why it's okay that Steph doesn't have the words to pray. "Great are You, Lord."

She goes to Opened Doors on Wednesday night that week, knocks on the doorframe. Someone opens it and tells her it isn't locked, and she says, "I know," and smiles. Lynn walks into the room with her baby on her hip and stops short when she sees Steph, bright golden hair and purple hoodie against the world, hands in her sweatshirt pocket almost sheepish in a way she never let herself be before.

"Stephanie!" She exclaims, breaking into the light smile Steph has come to know over the course of a decade. "I thought- we haven't seen you in months!" Lynn offers a one-armed hug that Steph gladly steps into, almost trembling with the force of being welcomed back so powerfully.

"I know," she mumbles, "Some... stuff happened." Death and new life counts as stuff, she thinks. "But I'm back now, so." She shrugs, and then blurts before she can stop to think about it: "I lied."

Lynn looks her up and down and pulls her back into the room they use as a kitchen, the microwave room. "When?" She asks gently, not judging or scolding, just curious.

Steph takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "When I first came here," she replies. "I was only in fifth grade at the time, but I didn't want you guys to like, turn me away because I was too young, you know? I really wanted..." she trails off.

"Wanted what?"

"The... light, I guess. To be invited in." Steph is holding back tears, now, and she isn't totally sure why. "I didn't think you would." Nobody else did. "I'm sorry I never told the truth."

Lynn shakes her head. "It's alright, Stephie," she says gently, which makes Steph cry more because her mom usually calls her that and she hasn't heard from her mom since she started rehab. Mom and Lynn are the only two people who have ever really called her Stephie. She'd forgotten what that felt like. "Honestly, I'm glad you did." She holds out a hand, and hesitantly, Steph takes it. "Plus," Lynn adds, "That means you have another year before you age out of youth group."

Steph hadn't thought of that. She'd almost thought they wouldn't want her around when they found out she lied. "Oh."

Steph isn't Spoiler anymore. She isn't Robin, either. She's Batgirl, now, taking up another legacy of light in the darkness. At first, she doesn't think it suits her. She confesses as much to Alfred, or maybe she's more complaining than anything else, unsure about living up to what B and Babs need her to be. Thanksgiving has just passed, and Steph is helping with Christmas decorations. She never did ask about borrowing some before, but maybe since she has her own place now, she'll ask this year.

"If Master Bruce and Miss Barbara think you are not exactly what you need to be," Alfred says simply, "Then that is on them, not you. You, Miss Stephanie, have something that unfortunately, they often don't." He fixes her in a long look, and bends to plug in a string of Christmas lights. "Light."

That's the moment Steph knows that Batgirl is going to be begging off patrol again this year, that as important as what she does at night is, there are things more important, and one of them is the light in the darkness. Alfred gives her a box of twinkling lights and decorations and won't hear of it when she promises to bring them back, tells her that every young person making their way in the world, in life, needs a good set of decor, so she ducks her head and grins about it and sets the box by the door before she runs downstairs. Like, downstairs, downstairs.

Tim is seated at the computer with Bruce hovering over his shoulder, both of them casting occasional glances over at Jason, still half in his Red Hood gear but leaning casually against the wall as they discuss some case Steph isn't involved in. They've been keeping her out of gang cases, she thinks, and anything to do with Sionis. Part of her bristles at the protectiveness while the rest of her is touched by it. She nods a greeting to Jason and walks up behind B and starts poking him, which gets a smirk out of Tim and a sigh from the man himself that she knows, these days, isn't actually annoyed.

"Yes, Stephanie?" He asks, tilting his head to look down at her. To think, she'd once been intimidated by that, thought he was like, actually looking down on her (and maybe he had been back then, at first). Not anymore, though.

"I'm dipping for Christmas again this year. Volunteer stuff, all that. I was wondering," she says slyly and a little shyly, like a little girl asking if she's allowed to take home a book called Holy, "If any of you wanted to join me." They should see that light, too. She wants to show it to them.

Tim looks up from the computer. "I didn't know you do volunteer work," he says. "Where?"

"Once a year," Steph replies, then falters. "It's uh... like a community Christmas meal type thing. There's a ministry that runs it in my old neighborhood, ever since I was a kid." She leaves the rest of that unspoken, knows that they know what's implied in that and isn't actually ashamed of it anymore.

"Wait," Jason pipes up, "Opened Doors?" He's staring at her, almost squinting with thought, and Steph nods.

"The one and only." She grins.

"Huh." Jason blinks. "I didn't realize you actually went."

"I didn't realize you could grow out of needing reading glasses," Steph retorts, and he grumbles. "But yeah. I uh... never stopped going, after that. And they never stopped inviting me in, so." She shrugs. "I helped out last year, too, and it was really nice." She turns back to Tim and Bruce. "I figured I'd ask, at least."

Tim frowns. "Well, I think we're skimming over the fact that you and Jason knew each other as kids," he says slowly, looking mildly perplexed.

"Same schoolbus," they both reply in unison.

Bruce clears his throat, then, which is a very quick way to get the attention of all of his kids including Steph, who isn't exactly his but isn't not, either. "If you don't think my presence would cause too much commotion," he says, "I would love to join you."

Steph tries to pretend like she isn't dying (coming alive) inside from happiness and acceptance. "Everyone's pretty chill." She breaks into a grin. "They'll love you."

"Hn." Bruce looks like he's suppressing a smile, and looks over at Tim, who shrugs.

"I'm in," he answers.

"Am I invited, too?" Jason asks. "Or would a vigilante crime lord be too out of place in a church?" He says it sarcastically, shooting a halfhearted glare at Bruce as he does so. But Steph thinks maybe he's actually asking.

"You don't have to talk about it," Tim sighs, exasperated. "Why are you like this."

But Steph just smiles wider and thinks of warmth from a storefront window. "You're invited."

Dick tags along, too, when he gets in from Bludhaven on Christmas Eve. Steph doesn't ask who's handling patrol, because she doesn't want to ruin this by reminding anyone of their other responsibilities, and she just assumes that Bruce has that all figured out. She can trust that, now. She carries a box of Alfred's pastries over the threshold of Opened Doors, letting out warmth into the cold and light into the darkness (the nearest streetlamp is still broken. She doesn't think it's ever going to be fixed.) as the boys and Bruce trail after her.

She's still got a big purple coat, this one not from a thrift store (it was an early Christmas present from B) and her hair is frizzed out over the fur-lined hood and she's absolutely certain she still looks like a poof. She's golden and purple and she grins madly back at Lynn and Nadia, who greet her with warmth as soon as they see her.

"I brought helping hands!" she exclaims brightly, nodding over her shoulder at the family who isn't quite her family, but who keep welcoming her into theirs anyway.

She finally, finally gets how to be a light in the darkness. Because the light doesn't come from just her, or just the church lights or the brightness of a welcoming smile. It comes from Something more, Something bigger. She just has to accept the invitation to it. And then she can turn around and open the door for others, the way it was opened to her. And the darkness, whatever it may contain, can't overcome that light.

She's going to call her mom tonight, wish her a merry Christmas. Figure out what she wants to do about college. Write a Christmas card to her father, send it to the prison even though she doesn't really want to, would rather let him rot. But right now, she's offering light the way it was once and is still offered to her, and it's warming her inside and out. It's Christmas Eve, and there's life here.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

Romans 15:13

In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:4-5