Trigger Your Mind

tower fics are so back baby

i need him in my life so fucking bad god please

got your heart in a headlock

aka soft secrets and domestic moments with jason todd

———

jason grew up in fire. all that he is and all he that knows is cigarette smoke and uncaged adrenaline. he never used to pretend to be something different, he knew what he was and he lived with that burden like he did any other. in the past, he never lied to himself, or let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be something else.

something good.

enter you, you who is good and whole and endlessly kind. you with lips full of sugar, arms full of warmth, and eyes full of love. you, who was made with starlight and wonder, who never looked at him like he was a bad dog, like you were capable of being bit. you, who is light and closeness and understanding. who loves him so deeply in a way he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

so when he comes home from his world of ash and blood, he becomes someone who wears your vanilla shampoo, just because he likes to smell like you. he becomes someone who has the time to watch cheesy romcoms and lengthy youtube videos, just because he gets to hold you in his arms. he becomes someone who sleeps in a bed with eight pillows and dozens of stuffed animals, because he can listen to your soft snores all night long. in your home (which you insist is his too), he is not made of jagged, broken edges, he is not unloveable, he is not a violent dog.

he starts to believe that your love could make him something beyond bloody knuckles and restless nights.

he’s your jason, and he thinks that’s all he wants to be. even if he’s not good at showing you how much he cares. even if he has trouble accepting that your kindness and goodness don’t come with ulterior motives or strings attached. even if he can’t be the guy he thinks you deserve, he still loves being your jason. it’s his duty more than his role, he lives to see you smile, to hold you in his arms on rough nights, to kiss you senseless. because you’ve given him a strange sort of hope that makes him believe he can be more than he is.

normally, you’re not able to sneak out of bed without waking him up. vigilantes senses and whatnot make him an infuriatingly light sleeper, but today was one of those rare mornings you managed to slip from his iron grasp and get up to pee without disturbing your sleeping beauty.

you take a second to watch him, smiling softly as his chest falls rhythmically while he breathes. you don’t often get to see him so peaceful, where his body isn’t tense with the weight of the world, his eyes don’t have that worried glare. you like that, at least in his moments of unconsciousness, he doesn’t feel so unfathomably stressed when he’s with you.

you gently close the bedroom door, making sure you’re quiet enough to not let your boyfriend continue to rest. once you hear the satisfying click of the door, you move to the kitchen, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

you turn on some soft music, ensuring that the volume is low enough as not to disturb jason’s sleep, as you work, pulling the ingredients from your pantry, preheating the oven. you crack three eggs into a small bowl, humming to yourself as you go through the motions. you don’t notice jason until he slips his arms around your waist, pulling a yelp from your throat.

he breathes you in, carefully smushing his nose into your hair. he’s so warm you think, you want to live a life in those arms, big and protective and a wonderful source of heat. “tell me i didn’t wake you up.” you wince, leaning back into his chest, looking up at him. he shakes his head, yawning.

“you didn’t, ma.” he says, sleep plaguing is voice. his obvious exhaustion not stopping him from smiling down at you. “what’re’ya making?” a twinge of an accent bleeds into his voice, the jersey he doesn’t care to hide so early in the morning, a part of him you revel in getting to hear.

you smile back, looking back down and continuing your work with the ingredients in front of you. “i’m baking a pie for mrs. lewitski downstairs.” you explain. “her cat just died.” you say, a small pout pushing at your lips.

jason shakes his head, frowning softly. “poor lady. can i help?” he asks, his voice twinging with empathy. he wonders if, before he met you, he would care about such a thing. if he would be the sort of person to sympathize with something as small as a cat funeral without your guiding hand.

you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would.

you nod, pointing at a cutting board and a pile of granny smiths. “cut the apples.”

he nods, pressing a kiss against the tippy-top of your head before he pulls away, a goodbye that feels like torture. “yes ma’am.” he says, carefully taking a knife out of the knife block before heading over to his station.

neither of you talk, lost in the comfort of each other’s company. jason peels and cuts the apples with expert precision, you form the dough for the crust. it’s quiet little moments like these that make up a life together.

“jay?” you ask, after giving up on rolling out the particularly tough dough. “could you give me a hand?”

he looks up from the apples, of which he’s already almost finished (damn those vigilante skills), and gives you a nod. he sets down the knife, coming up behind you, pressing himself against your back.

“of course, baby.” he whispers into your ear, his teeth lightly sinking into your cartilage, just enough to make you shiver. he gently places his arms over yours, holding his calloused hands atop yours. he moves the rolling pin slowly back and forth, putting his strength into the dough.

he pushes dough slowly, his breath hot against your neck. “like this?” he asks, once the dough gets thin enough. again, you shiver, his voice sending little waves through your spine.

“little thinner.” you say, leaning back into him.

“little thinner.” he hums, his voice a low mumble in your ear.

jason todd grew up in fire, he was born in it. but that fire makes him emit a pleasant warmth that you can’t live without. it makes his touch burn against your skin, sending electric shots through your body. it makes him the only person you’ve ever wanted to come home too, the only person you’ve ever been capable of loving, the only person you could ever love. his warmth was made for you, a cocoon of his fire you can only pray surrounds you for as long as you live.

he continues rolling, until he gets the crust rolled just right. truthfully, you extended the moment a little more than necessary, lightly instructing just a bit more, oh wait, can you make it thicker? to allow yourself to bask in the fire a second longer. you can feel a knowing smile pressing into your head, noting how he does move ever-so-slightly slower in service to you.

once he’s done, he pulls away, his hand trailing against your waist, lingering in the small of your back for a second longer than he likely should. he goes back to chopping the apples, humming with a small smile on his face. you too continue your task, making a sugar mixture to pour over the cubed granny smiths.

eventually, you both finish, and he helps you pour the apple-brown-sugar mixture into the dough-lined pie tins he helped you make. his hands are surprisingly gentle with the pasty. you didn’t realize that he was scared of ruining something as delicate and beautiful as something your hands were benevolent enough to create. but he would do whatever you asked, even if he was unsure why you would want his help. he doesn’t create, he destroys.

“can you press a fork against the edges, like this?” you ask, demonstrating how he could press both ends of the pies together. he simply nods, his fingers brushing against yours as he carefully took the silver from your hands. “i’ll check the oven.”

you pull back and open the oven, sticking your hand into the scorching air to test its temperature, earning a small frown from jason. you quickly close the door and turn back to him, moving across the kitchen. your hands slide around his waist, meeting just below his belly button. you lean up, pressing your head into the back of his neck, planting a small kiss against his spine.

“you’re good at that.” you say, watching as he works.

“yeah?” he mumbles, a soft smile on his face. he doesn’t quite believe he’s doing less harm than good, but he likes the reward he’s getting for it.

“i should make you my official pie-presser.” you respond, placing another kiss against his neck.

“i’d be honored.”

“you should be.”

“you’re making it a bit hard for me to focus, ma.” he says, shivering as you kiss him again and again, making sure to breath him in.

you smile against his skin. “i only need you to focus until we put these in the oven.” you mumble seductively, breathing hot air into his ear.

he pauses, stiff and still for an entire moment, before his shoulders drop and he returns to work like a man possessed. you squeeze yourself into him, breathing in his scent- a mix of irish spring and leather.

he only moves to put the pies in the oven, giving your arm a squeeze before he pulls away. “how long?” he asks, his fingers brushing over the keypad on the oven timer.

“twenty-five minutes.” you say, leaning back against the countertop. he presses the buttons carefully, before making his way back to you.

he smiles, not just with his mouth, but with those piercing blue eyes you can’t seem to tear yourself away from. his hair, messy from sleep, falls a bit in his face and, well, it’s your job to push it back. once he gets close enough to dip his head down, your hands are all over him, one against his forehead, smoothing his hair, and the other trailing down his arm.

“you’re my favorite helper.” you say, as he leans closer, a grin forming from the smile that had such a hold on his lips.

without warning, his hands slip on the bottoms of your thighs, and he hoists you up on the counter, eliciting a yelp from you.

“jay!” you exclaim, giggling. you spread your legs just enough to make room for him, letting him lean in, placing your arms against his shoulders. he’s wearing a shit-eating grin, but looking up at you with stars in his eyes.

“you didn’t think all that help was for free, did you?” he says, moving closer, his lips a breath away from yours. you playfully roll your eyes, but you can’t suppress the smile on your face, or the red that dusts your cheeks.

“and what exactly do i owe you?” you ask, raising a brow.

he leans in closer, his lips taking yours. for a moment, all you are is jason, all you can and ever want to be is a person that he loves. his lips crash against yours, in a perfectly soft rhythm that you two have learned to follow with each other. passion isn’t a word intense enough to describe a kiss like this, especially when compared to the loveless kisses you’ve given your past partners.

this is love.

neither of you want to pull away, but you do. something so good means eventually you’ll have to come up for air.

“y’know, we’ve got—“ jason pulls his head back, checking the oven timer. “—twenty minutes and fifty three seconds before you have to take out the pies.” he points out, his eyes darting back to yours with a mischievous sort of grin. “why not make the most of them.”

you giggle a little bit, like he’s not your jason and you haven’t been in love with him all this time. it’s ridiculous your boyfriend of a year has such an effect on you still, but here you are, a blushing mess of a woman, infatuated with the man in front of you.

“and how would you suppose we do that?” you ask, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

his grin spreads across his face, and before you can think to do more than flash your dopey smile, he pulls his hands under your ass and picks you up, holding you against him.

you yelp again, giggling as he pulls you closer. your legs wrap around his waist, and your arms meet at his middle back. he smiles up at you, pressing a chaste kiss against your smile, before moving you towards the bedroom, sucking a soft kiss against your neck.

the secret you keep from jason, only because you know he wouldn’t believe you if you dared confess it, is that he is inherently good. yes, he was forged in fire, tossed around by a universe with little care for his happiness or his safety. you’re not sure how he hasn’t realized that that’s what makes him a good man, a man who cares about cat funerals and revels in making you feel warm and loved. you know that he credits you with his goodness, that you’re the reason he loves and deserves to be love, and if he needs you to be that reason, you’ll do it proudly. but jason is good beyond you, a man with unwavering character. that’s why you love him so.

♯ THINGS TO SCRIPT OR MANIFEST SIMPLY BECAUSE YOU CAN .ᐟ

no, none of this is "unrealistic". get out of that mindset. "logic" doesn't exist. there is infinite realities and possibilities, stop using this reality and is "norms" to dictate what's realistic in completely different realities. thank you & enjoy !

Being able to rewrite your own past however you want

Waking up with an entirely new, luxurious life overnight

Having a private island that only you can access

Everyone instantly forgetting any mistakes you’ve ever made

Being able to change your eye color at will

Books and movies changing their endings to whatever you prefer

Speaking and understanding every language effortlessly

Your handwriting becoming naturally beautiful in every style

Jewelry that never gets lost and always finds its way back to you

Your dream house appearing exactly where you want it

Having a completely unique aura that makes everyone drawn to you

Your reflection always showing the most flawless version of yourself

A personal stylist that appears whenever you need them

Never experiencing bad luck or accidents ever again

Your presence making every room feel magical and special

Always being at the right place at the right time for opportunities

Turning invisible whenever you want to avoid awkward situations

Any object you lose appearing right in front of you instantly

Every mirror you look into giving you the best lighting possible

People treating you like royalty everywhere you go

Doors unlocking for you without needing keys

Your dream wardrobe appearing in your closet overnight

Waking up with a completely new identity and background

Music changing its lyrics to match your life perfectly

Never running out of energy, no matter how little sleep you get

Your phone never running out of battery or storage

Everyone around you becoming instantly generous towards you

Always having exact change for anything you want to buy

Having your own theme song that plays when you enter a room

Getting VIP treatment at any restaurant or event without asking

People automatically assuming the best about you

bad weather stopping the moment you step outside

Having the ability to erase awkward conversations from everyone’s memory

A notebook where anything you write becomes reality

Every photo taken of you looking absolutely perfect

A personal driver who appears whenever you need a ride

Food and drinks never spilling or staining your clothes

Always finding the rarest, most unique items whenever you shop

Being able to pause time to relive your favorite moments

Every outfit you put together looking effortlessly stylish

Having a natural glow that makes people mesmerized by you

Flowers blooming wherever you walk

Doors always opening for you automatically, no matter where you go

Any candle you light creating the perfect relaxing atmosphere

Receiving random gifts from the universe exactly when you need them

hi everyone! so i’ve been wanting to manifest a sp and i wanted to know if i’m supposed to do it in any certain way? i don’t know all that much abt how to do it or if there’s a specific way to, but if anyone knows how please lmk!

also… sp means special person, right? i wanna make sure google didn’t lie to me..

you know what.

I am so fucking tired of rape fics. I am a sexual assault survivor and you sexulise rape. why. why do I work so hard to get better and it all get ruined by some horny asshole just like last time. THESE CHARATERS DONT WANT TO RAPE YOU. rape is horrible, its NOT sexy. its traumatizing. why do you keep talking about it and writing about it. STOP MINIMIZING MY PAIN WITH YOUR DERANGED FANTASIES.

Simon Riley isnt a rapist

Leon Kennedy isnt a rapist

and belive it or not Jonathan Crane ISNT A FUCKING RAPIST

dont tell me not to kink shame

do not tell me to skip it

you cannot tell me that my trauma doesn't matter

STOP WRITING RAPE FICS

i've lost weight from the comfort of my bed while eating like shit, i've got accepted into programs without even applying, i've got promoted at work by doing the bare minimum, i've been gifted desired things i never mentioned wanting out loud, i've gotten money from the most random sources, i've changed my weight distribution, i've changed my height, i've changed my face, ive cured my dental problems, i've revised animal sickness, i've gotten my exact desired sp, i've gotten gaul citizenship, i've changed my grades, i've got my dream apartment, i've gained my exact desires friend group, i've gotten multiple free vacations... loa is literally the cheat code to life.

do yall just ever sit and wonder if you’d be able to get your dr s/o if you didn’t script it… cause yeah me too

there’s a real problem with non-melanated shifters in this community acting like “infinite realities” = morals no longer apply. i’m not gonna name names, but the lack of empathy and basic awareness outside their own ego is deafening. it’s also indicative of the unresolved trauma their ancestors left behind. just centuries of entitlement, destruction, and disconnection all culminating into the type of shifter who refuses to take accountability and weaponizes a specific brand of ignorance dressed up as “openness”.

NEWS! FUCKING! FLASH!

you’re not being expansive. you’re just being harmful.

and these displays of hubris show up most in the way y’all behave when it comes to simple boundaries. the moment someone says “hey, that’s not okay,” it’s met with deflection, dismissal, or that tired ass excuse: “but in infinite realities, this reality’s morals don’t matter.” IDGAF! killing innocents is wrong! incest is wrong! race changing is wrong! pedophilia is wrong! fetishizing trauma is wrong! when you promote it, you’re just showing your ass as someone who hasn’t shifted because if you had? you’d have actually understood the fucking implications of coming online and ADMITTING that you, in real life, did any of these atrocities or agree with them KNOWING what it’s like to live there! you’d know just how vile, insidious, and deeply unserious you sound.

and imma get into how this shit is wrong in another post, y’all gon hear my ass today!

follow up!

STOP bringing shifttok misinfo on shiftblr.

Shifting is easy. If you believe otherwise you're not educated enough on it.

You don't need a method to shift.

You are pure consciousness regardless of what you're doing.

You don't even need an intention to shift.

Physical symptoms have nothing to do with shifting.

Consciousness is not in you, you are in consciousness.

You can still shift if you're lazy, effort is not required.

Only you can shift yourself, stop depending on others.

Attempts don't exist. You're always shifting. There's no failed shifting 'attempt'.

You can still shift with self-doubt.

Shifting is not a process.

Shifting is instant, your cr is your past.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP SAYING YOU'RE SABOTAGING YOURSELF!!! It's manifesting because you're letting it.

There is no such term as minishifted, a shift is a shift.

You don't have an OR (original reality) you're shifting every second you're not bound here.

CR=DR they're the same, the only thing that separates you is the mindset.

You don't need to affirm 24/7.

It's not necessary to reprogram your subconscious.

You can shift for whatever reason it's your reality.

You don't have to feel it real you'll get it anyways. But if it helps congratulations.

Feeling your feels no matter how 'negative' won't stop you from shifting.

Yes you can script ANYTHING.

"but I've tried everything" have you tried letting it go?

Shifting is a decision not magic.

Dreaming and Lucid dreaming are a part of shifting.

You shift even when you're sleeping there's no exception to shifting.

DRs already exist. People didn't create them, they chose them.

shifting propaganda i will be falling for bcuz why the hell not

being the main character in my drs.

shifting for different people just for fun.

scripting unnecessary things just because.

shifting for mundane / 'trivial' reasons (food, getting laid, etc.)

having multiple s/os in the SAME reality (polyamory final boss.)

lazy shifting / not putting in effort to shift (bcuz it's litch never that serious.)

contradictory scripting (yes, i am very emotionally intelligent and aware but i will also cry if you yell at me.)

being a major overconsumer in my drs (i will have a ginormous wardrobe and a million different perfumes bcuz i can. but dw, i scripted that doing this doesn't cause any issues.)