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mostly-imagines · 18 hours

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The Alchemy I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

warnings: slow burn, mentions of attempted sa for reader, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of standard gotham violence

Dear fuck, he’s as heavy as he looks.

You use all of your weight to pull him backwards towards the couch, almost giving up when you realized you’d have to lift him up off the ground to actually get on it.

Getting him through the window was enough of a hassle, challenging the difficulty of the decision to bring him in here at all.

Thankfully you don’t have to think too hard on it because you feel his body stiffen up suddenly. He jolts upright, though clearly pained to do so, hand flying to the gun holster on his side.

You take a step back, hands out in front of you. “Hey, it’s alright.”

“Who are you?” His voice is interrogative.

You put your hands down, “You’re the one who passed out on my balcony, I think if anyone gets to ask that question it’s me.”

He stares at you, white lenses bearing into your soul.

Okay, yeah. You tell him your name. He doesn’t move. “You just looked like you needed some help..”

His posture loosens a bit, and his hand finally leaves the holster.

He glances down at his abdomen, a sizable tear in his suit and a nearly alarming amount of blood. “You got any bandages?”

“Uh, I—yeah, yeah, I do.” You dart down the hall into the bathroom, shuffling through your first aid kid. You toss a few wraps into your arms, along with some antiseptic spray you suspect he’ll need. You grab your hand towel and get it wet under warm water.

When you return, he’s moved himself onto the sofa, lifting his shirt up to assess the damage. You round the couch, seeing more blood than you’d have hoped for.

“Can I?” You ask, motioning to his injury.

He looks up at you for a long moment. He nods.

You kneel down in front of him and replace his hand in lifting up the shirt. It’s a cut, it doesn’t look terribly deep, but still not shallow enough that he could just leave it.

You take the rag and dab it around the wound, trying to clean up the blood as much as possible without making contact with it.

He’s very still as you work, and you get the strong impression he’s watching you carefully.

You grab the antiseptic spray, shaking it. “This’ll sting.”

He grunts.

You apply the antiseptic thoroughly and he doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t move his gaze from you for a second.

You unwrap one of the bandages and place it on firmly, making sure there’s no bleedthrough.

And not that you particularly want to be thinking about this right now, but the man is noticeably ripped. Stacked like a house of cards.

You rip away your gaze and stand up, hands on your hips, taking a deep breath. You look at him—at his helmet.

You don’t know how you can tell, but he’s studying you. Trying to get a read on you, maybe. Regardless, you’re eager to escape the gaze.

You shovel the remainder of your supplies back into your arms and bring them back to the bathroom, calling out, “I didn’t take off your helmet, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

There’s a short beat.

“Do I seem like someone that worries often?”

You peek your head out of the bathroom door.

You look at him. “You seem like someone that doesn’t worry enough.”

He snorts. “You’re not far off.”

You make your way back once you’re done, looking at the disregarded meal you’d been interrupted from. “I have pasta if you…eat.”

“I do.”

“I can go in the other room if you—”

He clicks the lock on his helmet, taking it off. He’s left with a second mask underneath, covering his eyes and nose. His dark hair sticks up from the helmet, a white streak poking out in the front. He looks younger than you would’ve expected. Cuter, if his jaw is anything to go by.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Okay then.

You grab a second plate out of the cabinet and scoop on the rest of the pasta from the pan.

You hand him the plate, avoiding standing too close.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

You turn back around as casually as possible after hearing the name, wanting to avoid letting your face give anything away.

This guy kills people, right?

You sit down in the armchair across from the couch, spooling the pasta on and off the fork. He doesn’t show the same hesitation in dining away that you do—you guess fighting crime would require some calorie exchange.

“You a nurse?” He asks after a few minutes.

The question takes you by surprise. You hadn’t taken him as a small talk kind of person. “Huh? Oh, no, I’ve just taken a few first aid courses and stuff.”

He gives a short hum, thoughtful.

“What?”

“You’re good.” Hardly.

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did enough.” He says, not leaving much room for argument.

He stands up at once, walking past you to the kitchen. Your gaze follows him silently. He puts his empty plate in the sink and returns to the edge of the living room.

He looks at you once more and pops his helmet back on followed by the click of the lock.

“I’ll see ya.” He says shortly, before ducking out the window.

You’re left alone, sitting in your armchair, plate of cold pasta forgotten on your lap.

That could’ve gone very badly. Maybe not your most thought-through decision to literally drag the Red Hood into your apartment, but hey. Maybe you’re exercising your ability to be an upstanding, helpful person. Or maybe you were just hoping to prevent a vigilante being found dead on your fire escape.

Regardless, you close the window after him, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

You wake in the middle of the night to the sounds of footsteps in your living room. You shoot upright, immediately spotting the lamp light flooding in from under your door.

Creeping to a stand, you grab the baseball bat next to your bed and slowly walk to the door.

You creep the door open as quietly as possible, inching out half a step at a time. A nearby creak on your floorboards had you swinging blindly, only to have your bat get stopped midair. You look up to see Mr. Hood himself, blocking the blow of your hit with his hand.

“Wow. You and a bat against Gotham, huh, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You let go of the bat and drown your face in your hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“Apparently that I don’t carry enough baseball bats with me.” He says coolly, inspecting your bat. Though he’s got to admit, your bat is probably a hell of a lot more useful than his.

You drop your arms at your side. “If I’d known bringing you into my apartment one time was going to be considered a free pass forever, I might’ve thought twice.”

“If I’d known I was going to nearly be concussed with a baseball bat, I might’ve too.” Barely. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re still half asleep and it was not a very good swing.

He looks at you straight on for the first time. His helmet quickly drifts down and back up to your face just as fast.

You look down. T-Shirt, underwear, and…no that’s it. Not…ideal. You pull down on the unfortunately not at all oversized shirt, wanting to creep back into your room.

He turns his back, allowing you to do just that and scramble for some shorts to throw on.

“Very gentlemanly of you.” You call out from your room, “And only thirty seconds after breaking into my apartment.”

“Okay, one, I’ve been here longer than that. In a non creepy way.”

“Right.”

“And two, I didn’t break anything. You live in the middle of Gotham and don’t lock your window?”

You reemerge in the doorway, “I live on the eighth floor.”

He turns around to face you again, helmet in his hands. “Didn’t stop me.” No it did not.

“Mm. So are you here specifically to judge my home security or was there something you needed?”

He takes a deep breath, “Actually yeah. I just need a place to rest for a minute.”

“Rest from what?”

A series of gunshots echo from down the street.

“Next question.”

Concise.

You and Hood sit on the couch in the dark, per his insistence, because for some godforsaken reason, you have no curtains. It takes a few minutes for the silence to dissipate into forced conversation, which takes a few more minutes to fade into actual conversation.

“Can I be honest with you?” You ask him.

“Does it matter how I answer?”

“I don’t understand how you’re not dead.” You poke your head up, turning to him. “Are you human?”

He cranes his neck to look out the window, “Maybe getting shot at isn’t the worst thing that could happen tonight…”

You roll your eyes with a smile that you’re glad is hidden by the darkness. “Oh, fuck off.”

“You don’t have much in terms of self-preservation skills, do you?”

You ignore him as to not acknowledge that he’s probably right and roll through to your next curiosity, “Who the hell was shooting at you anyways?” Though, you don’t really expect an answer.

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. They got ‘til sunrise anyway.”

You tilt your head, “‘Til sunri—” oh. Yeah. Come to think of it, he does have two guns on him right now. At least that you can see. You squint blankly at the wall, “You know, I’m placing a lot of trust in the hope that you’re not just as bad as those guys.”

“Yes you are.” He nods, not doing anything to convince you that he is in fact a good guy. He hasn’t tried to harm you in any way though, so you guess that’s a good sign.

You tilt your head at him. “Do you get paid to do this?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of people who would pay me not to do this.”

You nod solemnly, mouth turned into an exaggerated frown. “So you have a day job?”

He looks over at you, “Do you always ask this many questions?”

“Are you always so dodgy about answering them?” You shoot back. If you’d thought for .5 seconds longer on that, you might not have said anything. But you feel comfortable here, in your apartment with a man whose face you’ve never seen, name you don’t know, and always has at least two loaded guns on him.

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah. I am.” He looks over at you. “You live here by yourself?”

You look around at the empty apartment before turning back to him, “Seems that way.”

He shrugs, “Boyfriend could be out or something.”

“Well most people are asleep at one in the morning. Like I was. Remember that?”

“No.”

You sigh, curling up into a ball on your end of the couch, resting your chin on your knees. You’re quiet for a minute before piping up, “Do people actually break into apartments on high floors a lot?”

“Stupid people.” He pauses, looking over at the frown on your face. “Look, I’m in the neighborhood a lot. If I see somebody climbing your fire escape I’ll shoot them.”

You let a little smile out, “I’m thinking there’s other steps you could take before you get to that point.”

“If you want to waste time.” His gaze doubles back at you, “That was a joke, by the way.”

You bark out a tired laugh, “Yeah, I picked up on that, thanks.”

He removes his eyes from you, fixing on a set of pictures you have hanging on the wall.

Your eyes flutter and you move to rest your head on the arm of the couch. “Is this going to be a regular thing then?”

“You could lock your window.”

“Living on the eighth floor didn’t stop you, I can’t imagine a shitty lock will do much more.”

“If you don’t want me here, I won’t be here.” He says gruffly.

“If I don’t want you here, I’ll let you know.” You mumble, eyes closing.

You can barely make out a laugh from him, “Good to know.”

You’re not quite sure how much time goes by when he leaves, but you have a pretty strong feeling you’d fallen asleep. Your main indicator was feeling the blanket draped nicely over you that you could’ve sworn was on the chair across the room.

Maybe it’s ten o’clock at night and you’re sat on your kitchen floor, bawling your eyes out. Maybe you’re going to have to quit your job. Or maybe you’ll have to face a lawsuit. Maybe this is the worst day in the history of time. Maybe it’s about to get worse.

The sound of your living room window sliding open has you startling into a rush, body panicking as if you’ve done something wrong and desperately need to cover the evidence. The past few weeks of sporadic visits leaves no question about who it is, and you just hope the kitchen island in front of you will be enough to convince Hood that you’re not in and he’ll leave.

But because today is today, that’s not how it goes down.

You can vaguely make out the sound of his footsteps approaching, a courtesy that you’re sure he incorporated on purpose.

“Oh fuck…” you mutter to yourself, wiping your eyes.

He rounds the counter, looking down at you. “Wha—what’s wrong?”

“Fuck. Nothing.” You say, standing up and adjusting your clothes. “Are you hurt?” He better fucking not be at only ten.

“No, I—why are you on the floor?”

You roll your eyes, “I live alone, forgive me for assuming I would be given the privilege to cry on the floor in private.”

“Did something happen?” You’re trying really hard not to call him an idiot.

You raise your eyebrows, giving a light nod. “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.”

He shifts in his stance, “Do I need to talk to someone?”

You scoff, knowing damn well his version of ‘talk to someone’ does not include talking to someone. “Why are you even here so early?”

“Wanted to stop by before I went out.” he says quietly.

You’re about to snap something at him again, but the burning in your eyes takes immediate priority. You wrap your arms around your middle and try to calm yourself down, with very little success. The tears fall easily and your shoulders start shaking as you look at the floor, letting the melancholy take over.

It feels like much longer than it probably was, but sometime after the first few tears fall he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. This only makes you cry harder, sobbing against his armor. Your arms stay wrapped around your center, while his hands remain completely still against your back, though firm. You don’t realize it immediately, but he’s holding a good portion of your weight up, you’d for sure collapse onto the floor otherwise. You kind of wish you would. Sitting on the floor felt nice, maybe falling down on it will feel even better.

You slowly start to regain your breathing, the well in your eyes drying up again. He waits for you to stop completely and slowly pulls back from you, hands momentarily still wavering next to you like he’s ready to catch you.

It takes you a minute to notice, but his helmet is locked on to the finger-shaped bruises on your forearm. You awkwardly move your opposite arm to cover them, looking around your apartment with nothing to search for.

He’s quiet for a long while, clearly thinking hard. “What happened?”

You sniffle, “Some asshole at my job.”

“Some asshole?” He doesn’t believe you. Rightfully so, but he has no business being able to tell that you’re lying about one single word in that sentence.

“My boss. Was very intent on successfully hitting on me.” You exhale deeply, “His approach could use some work though, if I’m honest.”

His posture remains statue-like. “Where do you work?”

You look at him straight on for the first time that night, “What does that matter?”

“I’ll take care of it.” He says simply.

You wave him off, “It’s fine.”

He waits a moment before letting you know, “I’m being polite by asking, I’m going to find out either way.”

You plop back down on the kitchen floor, knees to chest. “Well, then do it the hard way.”

About ten seconds of him staring down at you in silence go by, before he sits down next to you. It’s a bit funny how he tries to shrink himself down next to you, you’re assuming because he doesn’t want you to get panicked again because this massive stranger is sitting next to you in your kitchen in the dead of night.

You don’t look at him as he clicks his helmet off and sets it on the other side of him. It’s quiet for another minute when he holds his gloved hand out to you, and you’re not quite sure how you know what he wants, but you do. You place your bruised arm in his hand, letting him gently pull it closer to him and scan over it.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

Again, you don’t know how, but you can tell he’s asking how far things went. “I started screaming and it freaked him out. He let me go.” you say numbly.

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, bits of red making their way into your peripheral despite the discarded helmet. You turn slowly to look at him, finding him looking at you already.

His face is more covered than it had been the first night, the same black mask covers his eyes but the lower half of his face is also hidden by a red mouthpiece. You’re in the lamp light and closer to him than you had been before and you’re counting out specks of green in his blue eyes. He lets you, to your surprise, and when you run out of emerald hues you take focus on his thick, dark eyelashes. Your gaze moves back ever so slightly to make eye contact with him and you tear your eyes away, zeroing in on the kitchen tiles.

You sigh contemplatively, “I’m worried if you kill my boss it’ll be traced back to me and I’ll get pinned for it.”

He doesn’t laugh. But your delivery was a little dry in the wrong way so really it was on you.

“I’m not going to kill him.” he tells you, “I wouldn’t gamble with my pied-a-terre like that.”

Your head falls back, hitting the drawer behind you with a light thud. “Then why waste your time at all?” Maybe you should slow down with the snide comments.

He wants to, but he doesn’t call out the implied self-slighting in your words. “Maybe it’s a ‘me’ thing but I don’t particularly like men that hurt women.”

You let out a dry laugh. “In Gotham, it just might be.”

He sits with you on the linoleum tile of your kitchen until your eyes start to droop and he lightly corrals you to your bedroom before taking his exit through the window. You told him multiple times that he could go and you were fine, but he insisted that nothing important was happening in the city that time of night. You didn’t quite believe him though, because it was past midnight by the time he’d headed out.

When you showed up to work the following day your boss wasn’t there. Wasn’t there the day after either. Or the day after. He didn’t make an appearance again until the following Monday. And when he did show face, he did so with a neck brace and a cast on his leg. But once more, he absolutely refused to make eye contact or speak to any of the female employees. It actually became a whole thing when he wouldn’t give instructions or feedback to any of you, and insisted on having his secretary replaced with a man, who he then used as a middle man to speak to all of the women for him. HR got involved three times in the span of the next five days, and by the Monday after, he’d been fired.

So to recap: yes, no, no, undecided, and hard no.

Maybe you’re really starting to like this Red Hood guy.

Hard yes.

You’re slightly on guard upon hearing a clattering on the balcony, though if the past few weeks have been any indicator, you’re not in much danger.

Your posture slumps as you peer around the hallway corner, “Oh, it’s you.”

“Good to see you too.” he grumbles, dropping onto the floor.

“Well, I have to imagine I’m a step up from the last person you saw.” You say, looking him up and down, seeing what sure as hell looks like a gunshot wound on his chest armor. “What happened to you? The Mad Hatter uses guns now?”

He groans, “Ah, I said something about him being a heartless fuck, and I guess he took it personally.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, Hood.”

He waves you off, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

You scoff, “He tried to shoot you in the heart.”

“Yeah, well, he missed.” He grumbles, adjusting his position on the couch.

You exhale sharply, “How do you know?”

“How do I know?” He tilts his helmet at you, exasperated.

You throw your arms up at your side, “I don’t know! I’m not equipped for this scenario.”

He huffs, “Look, it’s fine, it hit my armor. It’ll probably just be a bad bruise.”

“Probably?”

“I don’t think there’s blood. Could you…” he vaguely gestures to his torso, but it's enough for you to get the hint.

You shake the panic out of your head, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

You help him shrug off his jacket as he strips off his armor, and you lift his shirt up as slowly as you can in case the injury is worse than he thinks.

You’re not shocked to see that he has scars, that’s kind of a given in his line of work. What you are shocked to see is one very long scar that lines directly up the center of his body. It’s a deep scar, too.

And, oh. The long scar extends further, splitting off into a fork at his collar. That’s—oh. Oh. Oh. That is an autopsy scar.

You’re not sure what to do. You’ve never seen a living person with an autopsy scar—though you have to imagine neither have most people.

He clearly does not want to talk about it and you’re happy to let him keep the skeleton in the closet.

You avert your gaze back over to his diaphragm at the area of reddened skin.

“There’s no blood, but…” You inspect it a bit closer, “I think there’s going to be a bad bruise. You might end up with bruising on your ribs, you need to get that looked at.”

“I am.” He says shortly.

You stand up straight, dropping your shoulders. “By someone who went to medical school. Or has taken more than one anatomy class in their life.”

He yanks down his shirt, standing, apparently too quickly, and wobbling. You catch his arm as he sways, attempting to steady him. “You should sit down.”

“Need to go back out.” He grunts, trying to pull away from you with little force.

“To get killed? ‘Cause you’re going the right way about it.”

He tilts his head at you like he’s daring you to be so bold again. At least that's what it felt like. You sigh, gesturing to the couch, “Sit down.”

You didn’t expect it to work but he does as told.

You look around, unsure of what to do next. “Do you need ice?”

“What?”

“You’re hurt.” You say slower. “Do you need ice?”

He falters for a second, “No, it’s—no.” A couple beats pass before he adds, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

It’s impossible not to notice that he’s staring at you. You feel hot under his gaze, not knowing what to do with yourself. You clear your throat, telling him to hang on for a second.

You call out behind you as you walk to the kitchen, “Take your helmet off, it’s rude.” You grab the painkillers from their new easily-accessible place on the kitchen counter and grab a water bottle from the fridge.

It was a joke but when you come back his helmet is off and he’s just wearing his domino eye mask. His hair is extra tousled, the white streak barely visible in the mess of loose curls. You toss the bottle of meds at him, followed by the capped bottle of water. He catches them easily, downing more than he probably should have but he got shot tonight so you figure you’ll give him a break about it.

You plop down on the couch next to him, honestly closer than you’d meant to. Your knees and shoulders lightly brush against one anothers, though neither of you make any moves to scoot over.

You both look straight ahead at the wall, simmering in the amity. “So did somebody else deal with the Hatter or when you get shot do you just bounce back like a T-1000?”

He scoffs, “No, getting shot at is a bit of an inconvenience for me.”

“Wrong line of work.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “You’re telling me.”

You turn your head to him, “Why do you do it then?”

He looks back at you earnestly. “Someone has to.”

“Someone does.”

He tenses up a bit at that, breaking eye contact. “Not well enough.”

Your head slowly lulls and drops into a rest on his shoulder, causing him to stiffen up a bit more before almost completely relaxing.

“So violence is the answer to violence?” you ask, not argumentative, just genuinely musing.

Hood sighs, “Half-assed reform programs didn’t do anything, shitty ‘crisis interventions’ didn’t do anything, the cops sure as hell don’t do anything.” He shrugs under you. “You run out of options eventually.”

“And that’s why you took it upon yourself to intervene?”

“Mm. ‘When reason fails, the devil helps.’” He says, quite melodramatically, in your opinion.

“I-Is that—” you squint, shooting off of his shoulder to look him in the eye. “You spend your nights getting in street fights and shootouts and you spend your days reading Crime and Punishment of all things?” You gawk at him, “That explains a lot about your disposition.”

He shrugs with a shake of his head. “It’s a rough world. Can’t afford to be reading about Hogwarts.”

You pause, combing through your next words, “‘Man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn’t calculate his happiness.’”

His eyes crinkle under his mask as he smiles, clearly pleasantly surprised that you know your shit. “Touché.”

You grin back, pleased with yourself.

There’s a brief recession where your smiles both get caught in the flicker between on and off, where your eyes take the opportunity to scan over each other’s faces.

You realize that this may be the first time you’ve seen him properly smile and it’s so magnetizing. So much so that you don’t realize you’re staring at his lips until your eyes snap back up to his and find that his are on yours.

His eyes don’t leave yours as he nudges you a bit with his shoulder. It does just enough to break the trance, giving you the cue to rest your head on him again. This time you allow more of your weight to lean against him and he actually seems relaxed for once.

You glance at the clock on the wall without moving and realize it’s almost four in the morning. “I’m tired, Hood.” you mumble into his shirt.

“You don’t—” he falters for a moment, “You don’t have to call me that.”

You squint at him, “What should I call you then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “J.”

“J?” you whisper, like it’s a grave secret. You guess it kind of is.

He nods.

“Okay.” Your cheek flattens against his shoulder. “J.”

You nearly think you’re imagining it when you feel him rest his head against yours.

“You don’t know how to protect yourself?”

You roll your eyes at him, “You saw the way I swung at you with the baseball bat, what do you think?”

It’s only just after sunset, you could still see some purple-pink hues in the sky if you looked out the window. He’s started showing up before patrol some nights, saying he felt bad about waking you up at 3 am multiple times a week. So now, he mostly only drops in late if he’s a manageable amount of injured.

You stand in the middle of your living room together, after you’d made a joke about needing him as a bodyguard in Gotham. As it turns out, that was a one way street to him finding out that you’re useless in a fight.

“I was hoping you were having an off night because you just woke up, but now I'm concerned.” He says, grimacing.

You shrug, “I carry pepper spray.”

He grumbles, displeased. “Put your hands up.”

You drop your head to the side and glower at him, “Really?”

He raises his eyebrows at you. Just do it.

Alright, you’ll humor him. You put your fists up and he holds his hands open in front of you in kind. You throw a light punch.

“Come on, put your weight behind it.”

You do, hitting his hand harder. “Hood—”

He tilts his head forward at that, looking at you through his brows.

You inhale impatiently, “J, Why do we have to do this? I don’t have any illusions that I could knock you out and I can’t imagine you do either.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not about knocking someone out, it’s about defending yourself. Gonna be a hell of a lot harder to hurt you if you’re throwing punches. Harder.”

You give a raised hum, “Not if they have a gun…”

“Well, we’ll work on that too.”

You groan, throwing a half-assed hit. “Where’d you learn to fight?” You ask before throwing another.

“Turn your body into it.” He corrects. “My, uh, my dad taught me.”

You hum, hitting him again. “Are you guys close?”

“You’re being nosy again.” He grunts amidst a hit.

“You’re being evasive again.” You shoot back.

He drops his hands, taking your wrists in his, “Here, put your hands in front of your face when you shoot so you can block counters.” He tells you, adjusting your stance accordingly.

You make a face, “I’m confused, am I fighting a mugger or a kickboxer?”

He ignores you, moving his hands around to give you different angles to hit at.

You go at it for a few minutes, taking his critiques with reluctant concedence. “Alright, that’s good.” He says, relaxing his body.

You perk up, “We’re done?”

“No,” he shuts you down before asking earnestly, “Do you trust me?”

Your brain hadn’t even fully processed the question before you nod, mumbling a ‘yes’. He takes a measured step closer to you, watching carefully for your reaction. You almost back up in surprise, angling your head up further to look at him properly. You give no objection, so he continues, “I want you to try to get me on the ground.”

You let out a sound that’s half-laugh, half-scoff. “You’re twice my size.”

He sighs, looking at you somberly. “Sweetheart, odds are you’re not going to be evenly matched against someone that wants to hurt you. You get ‘em on the ground ‘n you have the upper hand or it’ll give you time to get away.”

You throw your hands up at your sides, “I don’t—” You huff, “Fine, okay.” You try to trip him by sliding your leg behind his and kicking, but he blocks you expertly.

You, against better judgment, shove your shoulder into his side, though it does nothing to phase him, let alone knock him down.

“You gotta get more creative than that.” He chastises with a tut.

In response, you take a step back to reassess the situation. You try to maintain a poker face as you strategize in your head. You make a dive for his legs, wrapping your arms around the back of his legs and pulling hard to make him lose balance. You’re sure if he were actually trying for a damn you would immediately be done for afterwards, but it does make him wobble. You then throw all of your weight against him, pushing him backwards and causing him to hit the floor with a thud.

He probably allowed for gravity to come to your aid, but he lands on his back all the same. You land half on him, half on the carpet, your hand resting on his chest. He looks up at you nodding, “Good. That was good, sweetheart.”

You smile, quite proud of yourself, and start to stand up when he hooks his arm around the back of your knee and pulls you to the ground too, switching places with you. You hit the ground gently with a sigh, “Really?”

He has one hand rested next to your head to balance him in his place above you. He smirks down at you and lets a tussle of white hair hang over his forehead. “Can’t be getting cocky, sweetheart.”

You laugh sourly, “Coming from you?”

You quickly push at the bend of his arm and use the distraction to adjust your position to wrap your legs around his center and push your arm against his chest in an attempt to rotate him off of you.

He counters you by pushing your shoulder down, holding you down to the floor. His opposite hand flies to pull your forearm away from his chest, pinning it next to your head, careful to avoid your hair. He moves so quickly that you have half a mind to think he acted on pure instinct. That, and the look on his face when the dust settles says that he hadn’t intended for you to end up in this position.

Your legs are still wrapped around him and you’re too frozen in the moment to make any changes. He’s in no more of a rush to move, large frame towering over you. You feel his touch stutter against your shoulder, his eyes flickering across your face.

You gaze up at him, taking in the soft look in his eyes behind the mask. You think you can see more green than you did before. You unwrap your legs from around his waist and slowly start to sit up. He releases your wrist and eases the pressure on your shoulder. He leans back half as quickly as you move forward, stopping when you’re propped up on your elbows.

Your faces are only a few inches apart and it feels like your only option is to look down at his lips. You have a feeling he’s doing the same to you. The adrenaline of the hassle has long since faded but the rhythm in both of your chests remains quick.

He leans forward so barely, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. “J…” you say breathily, not sure what implication you’re aiming for.

He stills and this time you’re sure he’s looking at your lips. He blinks a few times like he’s trying to come back to himself and inches his face away from yours slowly.

You let the hold in your breath release, disappointed more than anything. He eases off the floor to a stand and holds his hand out to help you up too. You take it with more of a frown than you’d meant to let out and rise to your feet.

“Let’s, uh…” He looks at the ground before taking a step back and putting his hands up again. “Let’s try some combos.”

You blink up at him for a second before raising your hands too.

Alright, one step at a time.

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talaok · 16 hours

Note

PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg

Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding

a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon

You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?

Well, this is a bit like that,

not a bit actually, completely so.

And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.

It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.

I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.

And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed...

until today

Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.

"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.

"nothin'" he grumbled,

Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,

he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.

"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."

Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second

"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"

"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,

and as always when it was her,

he was convinced faster than he liked to admit

He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said

"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,

who sighed, again.

"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"

"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery

"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"

"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed

"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,

perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.

"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"

again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly

"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"

"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"

"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"

Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes

"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"

It was like he froze,

and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason

"she doesn't like me" he stated

And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face

God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him

"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"

"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"

Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.

"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"

But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,

about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,

how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,

how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.

And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.

Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance

"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"

Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes

"SO WHAT?"

You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake,

it was only right for her to finally shout it out

"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"

But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying

"you just have to tell her"

she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.

Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.

"I can't Ellie, I-"

"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"

"that's different"

"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"

And that, for some reason, stuck with him,

He really had nothing to lose,

It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,

And yet... yet it still terrified him,

"Ellie... I don't know"

"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"

__ __ __

Joel didn't do it.

He couldn't. He just-

You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,

like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands,

And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.

Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.

"Howdy"

The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,

but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,

he was looking at you

"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut

You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant

Why is she here?

"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged,

Us?

"Uhm, I-"

but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind

And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.

"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly

"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.

What the fuc-

"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"

"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.

"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"

God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his

"do you- do you want something to drink?"

the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,

you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture

because that's how you were: Magical

"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"

If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,

to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.

"thank you" you said, taking a sip

god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass

Was this really happening?

Was this hell?

"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."

"that?"

"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"

Goddamnit

"oh"

Even you couldn't hide your disappointment

I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in?

Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...

You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,

The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks...

and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.

What a silly fool you'd been,

hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,

but still- a girl can dream, right?

"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,

but he remained silent

"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"

Until he wasn't

"no-stop- I-"

Ellie was right.

He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.

The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words

Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,

He had nothing to lose and everything to win,

he had you to win.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down

Think Joel, think

how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?

"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.

"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least"

What was going on?

What the fuck was he saying?

"Joel, what are you talking about?"

This was it.

It was now or never.

"Y/n I-"

his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-

"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"

he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.

"Y-you like me?"

"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"

"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked

"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,

but you were leaning closer,

and who cared what his name was anyway

"you were rude to me"

"I was, I'm sorry I-"

You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together

But who were you kidding?

"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.

Joel was certain he had just died.

But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,

only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months

exactly how you imagined he would,

better than you imagined, actually

so much better.

"Ha! I told you, Joel!"

He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance

"What are you doin' here?"

"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face

"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile

"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"

She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile

"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"

You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red

"Ellie-" Joel grumbled,

A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work

"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.

"maybe I was" he fessed up

You smiled even brighter

"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time

"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around

"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.

"say it again"

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sysmedsaresexist · 3 days

Text

Changing mindsets, from a Real Anti Endo™️

The Release of the (Pro/Endo) Golden Goose

I hope everyone from all sides will give this important, heartfelt post a read.

It's likely something you'll want to be aware of if you have a vested interest in syscourse and the validity of endogenic systems. Please give this a chance.

It's been almost three years since I started my blogs. Wow. I've been on tumblr a hell of a lot longer, but I really wasn't involved in the system community. I started out firm and loud. I probably inadvertently fakeclaimed (I went into this with the rule that I would NOT directly tell anyone they were faking, it was a boundary that I knew would ruin me socially if I crossed it, but I'm sure I probably did without meaning to), I name called and made fun of people and things. I was disrespectful to people. I invaded tags to get my message out there, though I was quick to stop once I realized I was making the tags unusable for the community I claimed to want to protect.

I learned very quickly what was appropriate and what wasn't, what I could get away with and what I couldn't. It started to become a numbers game, influenced by the risk of the post.

I made a lot of friends and a lot of enemies, and I amassed a following of over 2k. More people have come and gone from my little community than I ever thought possible. People made fanart of me, and I cherish those so deeply. I have over 300 asks because I struggle to delete the ones thanking me.

And the more I was thanked, the nicer I got, the more thanks, the nicer I got, rinse and repeat until I had trouble NOT empathizing with pro/endos. The more I was willing to listen, the more legitimate sources I came across that disproved my original ideas about consciousness. The people sharing the sources were more respectful than I thought they'd be. Things were starting to look a bit cloudy.

I talked to my colleagues about how they, as therapists, would handle some of these endos in their practice, and while their belief in the concept varied, kindness and attempts to understand was the consistent answer. When had I lost that kindness and understanding that had driven me to that field to begin with?

Colleagues, yes. For those who don't know, I have a degree in social services and counselling (plus three other degrees). It's why the current situation with the antis turning on me is so funny. I still can't get into the mindset of some of these new anti endos, I just can't imagine justifying that level of cruelty. I had lines that I wouldn't cross, and I didn't think people could be worse than me.

... That might have been a trauma thing, looking back on it.

So I got desperate.

I spoke to the actual doctors who wrote some of these papers all of us are quoting. Everyone was arguing the meaning of the words, so I went directly to the source.

Dr Colin Ross, who wrote about endogenous multiplicity in the 80s. I told him everything-- about plurals, non-traumagenic systems, syscourse, what was being debated, how I and others interpreted his words, and what I wanted to learn.

Was plurality only trauma based?

And back and forth and back and forth we went, with me asking over and over again in different ways, NEEDING to hear that it was.

But I never got that answer. He meant what he meant. He said what he said and he meant it.

That plurality was not only found in the aftermath of trauma.

And I said nothing to anyone because I couldn't reconcile it.

Don't try to read between the lines, I assure you, there isn't some hidden meaning to be found there. I can't share all of the messages because some contained personal information, but my final response will tell you all you need to know.

(It did NOT, in fact, make sense, and it took me three years to "rethink my paper" that endogenic plurality wasn't possible, I did not win that conversation, it was a dying stance that was not supported)

I've been accused of paying too much attention to my follower count, but I can't really help it. It's really scary when you make a post and see a sizeable drop. It means a lot of different things. My posts have less reach and support. I've upset people. I've done something wrong. My community is leaving me.

I'm in a weird spot, where I'm blocked by so much of the pro/endo community that I have nothing to join, and the anti endo community, who I still wholeheartedly support, continues to leave me for -checks smudged writing on hand- being too nice??

Misinformation about DID is a massive problem, and it's why I still consider myself anti endo and support that community. I relate to them in such a way that I'll always gravitate to and empathize with them.

Or at least, that's what I thought.

At this point, though, how can I not be pro/endo when Colin fucking Ross says it's possible?

I've already written about how I'm really struggling with these labels, and I love the people that have stuck around while I struggle to figure this out.

I hurt when I see the people that once supported me leave.

My (online) world is shrinking. Literally.

That's scary.

When you've watched so many turn away, you start to wonder, with every post, where is the line where the rest are going to leave? Is it this post?

I just want to be me, us, we want to laugh at the stupid crap people say, system or not, I want to talk about my disorder, I want to combat misinformation, I want to have productive, fun conversations about ideas and concepts with people who disagree and have different interpretations. I want to play devil's advocate and get people thinking. I want to be able to comment positivity and kindness on any post I see, I want to feel comfortable talking to more people about their ideas. I sympathize with anti endos, I relate to CDD systems, I still firmly believe that CDDs and plurality are different, unrelated concepts.

My priority will always and forever be the CDD community first and foremost.

However, I am a hypocrite. I have gone straight to the horse's mouth and failed. I've seen so much research that I finally get it. I'm grappling with holding on to this conversation with Dr Ross, wondering what harm I could have prevented if I'd gone public with these emails earlier.

Since when has being open to change been a bad thing?

Since when has showing respect to lived experiences been a bad thing?

What am I? What label describes this?

How do I go forward from here?

What are you going to do with this information?

I promise you, hate isn't the way forward.

#syscourse #not syscourse #pro syscourse conversation #anti endo #pro endo #anti plural #pro plural #debunk #endogenic safe #system safe #pro system

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ohboyhowdybuckaroo · 2 days

Text

As a way to celebrate the end to the first arc of the ASL Gem AU, here's a couple of headcanons and things I put in the story that I was proud of. Also, some shitty memes I doodled and thought were funny. I put all the headcanons and neat things under the read more because there are spoilers for Keep It Simple, Stupid in there.

Luffy actually got poofed four times throughout the events of the first chapter. Two of them were depicted on screen, but the other two were when Ace got him caught in a landslide in their first meeting and when he came back to the bandit hut on the wolf and broke a hole in the wall getting tossed off of Kebab. Ace could've sword that landslide would have poofed Luffy and, I mean, he's not wrong.

Whery told me BTS that Sodalite's hair remains suspended in air as if it's flowing through water at all times. He's got mermaid hair, everyone. Love this guy.

The reason Sodalite struggles to unfuse is because... 🥁 🥁 🥁 He has a hard time unfusing when his components feel unsafe. That doesn't stop anyone strong enough from poofing him (A la Garp) or Sabo and Ace having such a strong disagreement that they come undone (a la the argument before the final fight with the wolves or when Ace post-getting-Luffy'd has conflicted feelings about ditching Luffy with Amethyst and co.).

In the process of plotting this, I wasn't sure how to translate the money-saving-schemes into this AU for the boys. The general layout of the plot is similar to canon, but I wanted to mix things up a little. That led to the parts scrounging aspect, which led to Ace and Sabo having their own waterfall cave instead of having a tree that they keep things in because I didn't think a tree could properly hide most of their junk from sight that close to the Kindergarten.

Sodalite never actually introduced himself to Luffy. (Cursed with Ace's tendency to never make a good first impression.) He learned Sodalite's name when a few gems and people were yelling in panic at their first meeting.

There's another nod to Sodalite inheriting Ace's bad first impressions when he first "meets" the bandits when literally dropping Luffy off after saving him and also when he meets Woop Slap and Makino.

Also continuing Ace's penchant for bad first impressions, he really did get put through the ringer with Makino when he first reformed. I gave him hell this whole arc, didn't I? Poor guy.

Herc and Agna are my contributions to the Dadan Family. I wanted to flesh their numbers out a little bit since we only ever know the names of Dadan, Magra, Dogra, and Pochi. I hope you like them... They're silly. (And probably in love tbh.)

Speaking of them, they made a bet on whether Luffy killed Ace in the beginning of the third chapter and you can see them exchanging money in the sixth chapter when it's revealed that Ace isn't actually dead.

I also added Woop Slap's baker brother, a Beryl to the Azurite crew who stood around while Luffy got his ass electrocuted, and a couple of random characters here and there with no canon version just for the hell of it. Got the chance to flesh this out a little bit thanks to focusing on a small sequence of events compared to the Odyssey that is One Piece canon.

In the second chapter, there are a few things that Sodalite and Luffy say in a couple of the conversations post-saving Luffy from the Azurite Pirates that get called back to.

Sodalite: You can’t be brave unless you’re scared. And if the first hint of danger has you sniffling and running away like a chicken, you’ll never be brave.

This one is a little more obvious. It gets reflected back in chapter 5 when Luffy is in the process of trying to help Kebab out from where he's trapped. Luffy is a bit of a coward and a crybaby when he's younger in canon and in this story. He builds up confidence with being rubber (Though I replaced his rubber body helping to protect him with him being able to reform quickly), having two older brothers to protect him, and eventually his own fighting skills in canon, but I wanted to add a little more oomph to it.

Luffy: I'm not crying, you're crying!

Sodalite: That's not how tears work, squirt.

This one reflects the flashback to when Ace and Sabo fused for the first time. I figured it would help soften Sodalite up to Luffy with the little nod.

Ace: I'm not crying, you're crying, stupid.

Sabo: That's not how tears work, idiot.

There's another point that gets called back to in a conversation between Luffy and Sodalite, but this is the conversation when Sodalite starts to refer to Luffy as "Luffy" mentally and not just Spinel.

Sodalite: Free and kind, huh? Free how?

Luffy: Free to go where I wanna go. Do what I wanna do. Be who I wanna be.

Sabo thinks back to this when he's poofed and trying to figure out what he wants to look like. Freedom is hard to get used to when you're used to a regimented lifestyle. I think it's called choice anxiety, but even though he wants freedom, he still has to learn how to be free, if that makes sense.

Speaking of that conversation between Sodalite and Luffy, I tried to switch up what he was called in the narrative based on whose POV I'm talking through. In the beginning, when Sabo, Ace, or Sodalite are thinking about Luffy, they consistently refer to him as "Spinel." When it's Luffy's POV, Luffy only referred to himself as "Luffy." Eventually, after the heart-to-heart they have in chapter 3, Sodalite, Ace, and Sabo also only refer to Luffy as "Luffy."

Prior to the narrative, Sodalite didn't have a lot of room to grow or a lot of interaction with people outside of battle or when he's alone when Ace and Sabo needed comforting. Being around Luffy and the circumstances of which they can't unfuse gave Sodalite the opportunity to become more of his own person.

I used he/they pronouns for a lot of the story to reflect the Sodalite-not-being-completely-his-own-person as even Sodalite still saw himself as Ace and Sabo and not just Sodalite. He's aware he's a fusion, but he's only now settling into the idea that he is a new person as well.

Ace thinks that Dadan and the bandits don't care about him for most of the story and they don't help things by pretending not to care that he's "gone" when Sodalite's around. However, at the beginning of the fourth chapter, I tried to give a little nod to Dadan being worried about Ace with her sometimes smoking late at night on the porch and staring into the forest. She was looking for Ace and worried about him, but Sodalite can't tell because Ace is blind to kindness. Dadan was losing sleep over you, you dummy.

True to canon fashion, I tried to limit how much I used Luffy's POV as in canon he doesn't really have a lot of internally kept thoughts as much as he doesn't have a filter between mental reaction and physical reaction. Thus, when I did have to use Luffy's POV, I tried to switch it to another character as soon as I could.

Whery once posted an animatic wherein they used the Ben 10 clip of Kevin saying, "You have to treat a car like you treat a woman," and I pretty much used that to shape Sodalite amd Makino's dynamic in my head which led to the way Sodalite and, by extention, Ace feel nervous around Makino, but the nerves just make it harder for them to say the "right" things.

These four posts gave me psychic damage and were the kick in the ass that got me to write K.I.S.S. to begin with. Literally got so wrapped up in them that I wrote a whole fanfic. I was originally going to just write the Luffy and Sabo reunion in Dressrosa. A couple hundred words in, I realized I should probably just start in the beginning to fluff it up with some history. Then I fell in love with Sodalite and underestimated how much I would get into the AU, so now we're here.

Y'all can take Ace being nervous around Makino however you want, but my intention was that kind people throw him off his game. This was meant to reflect how he's a mama's boy in canon and the pedestal-ing he did with his mother. (Rouge is a goddess, though, so like... he's not wrong.)

I tried to write it so Ace Literally Does Not Know how to be anything but a scruffy and snappy little kid since he was raised by bandits and Garp isn't the picture of healthy communication. With the Makino interaction post-reforming in chapter 5, I wanted her to nudge him into realizing that there's another way to handle disagreements and not every time he fucks up will lead to violence or yelling. Easing his toes into the water.

I went back and forth for a while on the scene in chapter 6 where Ace is about to run away. I was very iffy on if it was in-character for him to leave behind his only friends and everything he ever knew. But I also remembered how he acted in canon when people were putting themselves in danger for him and, yeah, pushing people away when people might get hurt """"because of"""" him fit well.

Is it weird that my favorite scene to write was in the 6th chapter when Sabo and Luffy knock a gem into a barrel and run away? I just felt my heart get full being able to write them getting closer and being chaotic together... Can't wait to write these three being chaotic together more.

It was very cathartic for me personally to write the scene where Sodalite first plays guitar for Luffy in chapter 2 and the scene in chapter 6 where Ace bursts out laughing when they fall over.

Sabo and Ace met when they both stumbled upon their cave and started having a turf war over who it really belonged to. They eventually became friends, but naturally, it took a minute and some fighting before then.

Most of the people and gems around don't care one way or another about fusion. Garp, as a gem higher up, cares based on principle and because he's old as dirt and was around when the "No Fusing" rule was more radically reinforced.

Fire Agates were "made" to be demolition gems (AKA why they have the fire going on and are typically very strong). Due to this, Ace can keep more items within his gem that can vary in size. Sabo can keep some things in his gem, but they typically have to be small to medium. Luffy could theoretically keep a lot in his gem, but I genuinely don't think he thinks about it unless he's storing food.

Luffy eats and sleeps because he first formed around the mixed population of humans and gems in Foosha Village and just thought it was neat. Now, he has sort of programmed his gem so he sleeps at night like people do, but he doesn't need to. He just likes it. Silly lil guy.

Ace was initially put off by Luffy wanting to use a different name than his gem type because he struggles with his own identity as a Fire Agate. Using a different name feels like running away from the realities of your gem type. Ace is plagued by his own gem type and feels like he can't run away, so Luffy so casually giving himself a name was foreign to Ace and made him a little bit jealous tbh.

Sabo similarly wasn't willing to call Luffy by his name because he felt cursed by his gem type. He's less touchy about it than Ace, though because he understands Luffy's desire to want to be his own person-- whoever that may be.

I changed Sabo's gem type from Labradorite to Moonstone because he has had some really neat fanart made of him that was Moon themed, and I thought that was really cute. There's some more to learn about Sabo that I've been hinting at, but y'all will find out sometime later.

Shanks was the person who made Luffy realize that he could have whatever name he wanted. I might write it out someday, but it basically went, "woah, I wish I had a cool name," "You can call yourself whatever you want. What, did you think Makino's name is her gem?" "... So what if I did?!" *whole crew laughs at Luffy* "Well, what do you want us to call you?" and the rest was history.

Ace and Sabo will eventually be able to bubble things. Ace can make bigger ones, but Sabo's are less likely to burst when messed with. Luffy could theoretically create bubbles, but I don't really think Luffy's the type to want to capture things in bubbles outside of beetles, and that's easy enough to make Sabo or Ace do.

I took some very vague inspiration from Zuko from ATLA and Ruby from Steven Universe when thinking about Ace's fire abilities. I wanted him to have pyrokinetic abilities, but struggle to use them thanks to some internal turmoil. Thus, his powers come from strong bursts of negative emotions and typically just sprout out around his body. (Yes, he has caused a forest fire before.)

Sabo can create light constructs similar to how Pearl does in Steven Universe. Thinking about Sodalite getting a little more showboat-y with his music and doing light shows? Eventually, fire blasting out of places like some bands do at concerts. That would be metal as fuck.

Sodalite literally always radiates warmth wherever he's at. He's a space heater. You can see a little bit of this in the 3rd chapter when he sits near Woop Slap to keep the old man warm.

Luffy still has the stretchy abilities of a Spinel, but he's still new to using them. In the first chapter when he's got an arm wrapped around Kebab the wolf, it only happened because he got his hand stuck on a spike and Kebab the wolf rolled around trying to get him off. He also has a lil toon force action going on. I tried to show this with a couple of scenes here and there. (When he falls into the ravine, when he runs into a tree in one chapter, the Luffy shaped hole in the bandit hut when he gets flung off Kebab into it, etc.)

I don't even know where the nickname idea of "Squirt" came from. I just thought it would be a funny nickname (derogatory) and it kept reoccurring in my brain and in the writing until it became squirt (affectionate). Who doesn't get called dumb names by your older siblings?

That eventually expanded into Sodalite handing out derogatory nicknames. You mostly see that with Garp. (Bootlicker, marble muncher, etc.) Sodalite is teaching Luffy how to be an even bigger little shit and I love to see it.

I didn't originally plan for the wolves to show up outside of the couple of times they appeared in the first chapter. Then, when I was writing the third chapter I needed a reason to have Garp escort Makino and Woop Slap to the bandits and then I wanted a reason to get Luffy and Co. to go to Foosha Village, so tada.

I especially didn't plan for Kebab to become Kebab. However, I wanted each of the brothers to take out a wolf in their own ways and Luffy just isn't prepared to fight creatures 1v1 right now, so I cooked up the idea of him becoming a pet thereafter.

Damn, that was a lot. Thanks for reading! Go check out @where-does-the-heart-lie for all the cool art they did for this AU, but please don't bother them for more art. I'm pretty sure they're not all that into the AU anymore, but they do have a lot of other cool posts and a comic they're working on for the boys if you need more ASL bros content. They also made a post with several drawings they wanted to do after reading that correspond with several events in the story if you wanna check that out.

That's it for now! Good luck, y'all. I'll be back with some kinda writing soon-ish.

#one piece #one piece au #portgas d. ace #flame emperor sabo #revolutionary sabo #monkey d. luffy #asl brothers one piece #one piece fanfiction #k.i.s.s. gem au #ao3 fanfic #my art #Fanfiction #Headcanons #Gem AU #Steven Universe AU

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prone-to-fleeting-obsessions · 2 days

Text

Dating Veritas Ratio hc's

Out of all the hsr men, I'd imagine he'd be the most irritated figuring out he has a crush

A crush? A stupid little manifestation of his irrational emotions???

He'll stew over it a while, picking it apart like the most complex of equations, his stoic expression not wavering

So what if he's around you often? So what if he unconsciously seeks you out, it doesn't mean anything...

He'll hammer that narrative over and over until it becomes truth, or as close to truth as his mind will allow

You'll act like a married couple, though

He'll scold you without any real irritation, eyes narrowing as he pulls you closer to just fix the problem himself

A leaf in your hair? Your sleeve unrolled? Coffee stain on your shirt?

Honestly, how could you be such a careless mess...

Wait, no. No don't go, you're his careless mess—

It'll become a new normal to just have him occasionally once over your appearance, looking for things he can fix and doing so without a word

He also takes it upon himself to make you a healthier and more rounded person

No you're not eating garbage calories for the third meal in a row, yes you are drinking a full glass of water as he reads you excerpts from his book on how quantum chemistry applies to theoretical engineering under Nous's 63rd law of imaginary quantum information science, and there will be a quiz after so pay attention

If asked about why he's often seen by your side, he'll usually answer with a glare and an insult, commenting on the lack of even borderline decent conversationalists around

You're probably not really going to get an actual confession out of him, because that would force him to admit defeat to those annoyingly persistent feelings that just won't leave him be

If you take the initiative of backing him into a corner, you get to watch him flounder a bit, an expression of agitation and a growing warmth throughout his whole body as he skirts the topic with overly complex excuses

He's a big fan of doing different things in the same space, talking isn't necessary

Occasionally, when he remembers you're still there, he'll glance up from his book to see how you're faring, before getting back into it

He has a bit of a staring problem, in a way

It's just that he's so up in his head often, usually easily loosing sight of his surroundings, and you just happen to be the most pleasing thing to keep his eyes on

He'll look away when he notices you staring back, but it's not long before you feel his eyes trained on you again, as if studying every little movement as he works out equations in his head

Of course he does need alone time, usually spent reading in the bath

But that period seems to be getting shorter and shorter as his focus is constantly broken by unconditionally looking around to find you while deep in thought

He will absolutely use you as a blank canvas to throw ideas and thoughts on if he can't work through something in his head

By explaining it to you in mind numbing detail, he'll usually run headfirst into the solution, and it's a treat to watch his eyes widen ever so slightly as he pauses, immediately thanking you curtly before moving straight to writing

Your sense of curiosity is his favorite trait, the one he wants to nurture and encourage you to feed

He's not expecting you to be as smart as him, that would be an impossible expectation, but he will not allow you to give in to ignorance, to get in the habit of complacency, as it is the enemy of growth

He's an intimidating figure to most, both from his status and sharp tongue, so it's not uncommon for low-level scientists with something to prove to seek you out

Sometimes to get information on him, sometimes to test your intelligence, as if trying to prove themselves better than the company the great Dr. Ratio chooses to keep

He's quick to nip that in the bud, though

His crossed arm stoic faced glare would scare away anyone who isn't keen on being picked apart verbally

He'll claim it's all to avoid tainting you with their idiocracy, and that you really shouldn't keep such company

Tries to use selfish logical excuses constantly to get things he wants from you

"I've already chosen your hotel room for this trip, it'll be next to mine so I don't have to travel as far to compare notes in the morning."

"Honestly. You're coming with me to dinner so I won't waste my time working around your schedule later."

"No. You are absolutely not going to get a closer look at those monsters because I'm not cleaning up the mess you'll no doubt get yourself into by being so reckless."

"You're really going to waste your valuable time entertaining those IPC buffoons? They have more credits than brain cells. Stay here, lest their ignorance rub off on you."

He means well, under the insults and unapproachable demeanor

And, at a certain point, he really can't imagine the rest of his life without you close by

#honkai star rail #hsr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr ratio x reader #my hcs #lowkey he's even intimidating to write for

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ladykailitha · 1 day

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Paper Hearts Part 3

Thank you for the lovely response to this story, it makes me warm and fuzzy inside.

This chapter is just 2000 words of Wayne and Eddie being sweethearts to Steve.

Part 1 Part 2

****

Eddie led the way through his trailer to the kitchen past Wayne, who was sitting in his armchair reading the newspaper, a defeated Harrington limping behind.

“What did I tell you about bringing home strays, Ed?” Wayne huffed, a small, gentle smile on his face.

Eddie shook his head, his curls flying. “I’m just watering and feeding this one before I return it back to its owners.”

Harrington blushed and ducked his head. “I got lost.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. He looked over at Eddie who nodded his confirmation.

“This is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie introduced them. “This is Steve Harrington, Uncle.”

Wayne’s eyebrows stayed raised. Of all the people Eddie could have brought home, he was pretty sure this was the biggest surprise.

“You got your car?” he asked.

“This dumbass was out running around with his head in the fucking clouds,” Eddie scoffed.

Wayne’s glance at Harrington was far more appraising. He looked him up and down, taking in the sweat on his brow, the limping, the slumped shoulders, and vacant expression.

“You do that often, son?” he asked Harrington, folding up his newspaper.

Harrington just shrugged. “I like running to get out of my head.”

Wayne licked his upper lip slowly, calculating. “Uh-huh.” He looked over at his nephew, who had his hands on his lower back and staring at the floor. “There is some leftover beef from Sunday.”

Eddie jumped excitedly. “Yes! That would be perfect.”

He loped over to fridge and pulled out a Tupperware container. He set it on the counter. He got out two plates and a glass. He filled the glass with water and handed it to Harrington.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he huffed. “Our water comes from the same place as yours does.”

Harrington rolled his eyes. “I’m not worried about you poisoning me.”

“You’d be the first,” Wayne said with a chuckle.

Harrington furrowed his brows and looked between them in confusion.

“Surely,” Wayne said in amusement, “you’ve heard about Ed’s reputation going to that school of yours.”

Harrington shook his head. He looked down at his feet. “I mean, I hear rumors and shit, but I really don’t believe that he chased three freshmen with a hunting knife.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “You would pick the one rumor that was actually true.”

Harrington’s head snapped up. “What? Why would you do that?”

Behind him the microwave beeped and Eddie hurried to get their food out. He piled on the food and handed it to him.

“Because they were trying to buy drugs off me,” Eddie muttered as he handed Harrington a fork.

Harrington blinked at him a moment and then nodded. “Is there an age that you do start selling to high school students?” His eyes went wide and looked at Wayne in panic. “I mean, if you were selling drugs. Not that you do or anything.”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head. “I am more than perfectly aware of my nephew’s side business, thank you. I wish he didn’t have to do it, but he hasn’t had a lot of choices in the legal employment racket, not for someone like Ed. But sometimes a couple of grams sold is the difference between not having to chose to pay the water bill or the power bill.”

“Uncle Wayne and I set down ground rules when I started dealing,” Eddie huffed. “One of them was not selling to anyone under the age of sixteen.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Harrington ate his food in silence.

“Do you need to call your parents?” Wayne asked. “Won’t they be worried where you are?”

Harrington shook his head. “They’re going to scream the same amount if I was five hours late or on time. I’d rather just deal with it the once thanks.”

Eddie and Wayne shared a worried glance over his head. Eddie was far too familiar with that nugget of parental discipline, because that’s exactly what Al would do with him.

“You ready to go, Stevie?” Eddie asked as he set their now empty plates in the sink.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, Ed,” Wayne said. “I’ll take care of it while you take him home.”

Harrington blinked up at Eddie after he used his given name. “Oh, yeah. Of course. Thanks for dinner and the water.”

Wayne nodded. Eddie led the way back out to the van.

“All righty,” he said, pulling his door closed. “You’re gonna have to give me directions, pretty boy.”

Harri–Steve blinked at him for a moment. “I thought everyone had been to my house at one point or another.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, dude?”

Steve just curled his hands on his lap and then mumbled directions.

Eddie cursed himself in his head. He had gotten the other boy to come out of his shell a little bit while they were talking to Wayne, but now the lid had slammed shut.

Because Steve was right. Even though he only invited the popular kids, his parties always exploded way past the original guest list. But Eddie had avoided it when it was Steve’s place though. Dealing at Hagan’s or any of Steve’s former pals was easy enough, his van fit right in with all the vehicles no problem. But in Loch Nora? Yeah... that was like showing up to a funeral in torn up jeans and smelling strongly like booze.

“Let’s just say my van is a little more conspicuous in Loch Nora,” he said after they had driven in silence for a couple of miles.

Steve’s head snapped up. “Oh. Shit. Yeah. My neighbors might not call the cops on any of my parties but they would absolutely be on the horn if they saw your van parked anywhere on the street.” He picked at his nails. “I keep forgetting shit like that.”

Eddie risked a glance at the other boy, whose shoulders were rounded against being bullied.

“Dude,” he huffed, “the whole fucking school saw what you looked like when you came back after tangling with Billy that kind of damage leaves lasting affects. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Steve scoffed. “Asshole fucking cheated. Took a plate to my head and then just started wailing on me. Probably would have killed me too.”

“So what stopped him?”

“Being tranq’ed by his step-sister,” he snorted. “She was visiting a friend of hers. One Billy didn’t approve of because of the color of his skin. Billy threatened to kill the kid, so I hit him. Would have won, too, if he hadn’t fucked me up with the plate.” He took a deep breath. “Anyways, they had some tranquilizers because one of their parents were having trouble sleeping. She grabbed one and jabbed it into his neck.”

“Pretty brave thing to do,” Eddie conceded. “Sounds like there were two badasses there that night.” Then he shook his head. “So you got the shit beat out of you for defending little sheep and Wheeler still went for Byers? I don’t know, man, sounds like she wouldn’t know a good thing if it bit her in the ass.”

Steve huffed out a breath of laughter before he caught himself. He hid his smile under his fist. “Something like that, yeah.”

They pulled up to his house and Steve let out this strange little pained noise. Like it was relief and disappointment all rolled into one. A sound Eddie was far too familiar with.

“My parents aren’t home.”

Eddie looked over at him in curiosity. “How can you tell?” Because yeah, the front lights were off and the house seemed quiet, Eddie knew these houses were big enough that if there was a light on in the back of the house, it couldn’t be seen from the road.

“The garage is closed,” Steve huffed. “They only close it when they leave. They have to show off to the whole neighborhood the cars they drive.”

Eddie blinked at Steve in confusion. “Aren’t they worried someone will steal their car?”

Steve shook his head. “It’s insured, plus they don’t believe anyone would rob them in their fancy house while they’re home.”

Eddie looked up at the large house, so big it could only really be called a mansion. “Are they stupid or arrogant?”

“Both.”

“Look, Steve,” Eddie said, stopping him briefly. “I need to apologize and every time I see you you distract me. So I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m the one that shoulder checked you the day you hurt your hand.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed dramatically.

“You see, you had this far off look my uncle gets sometimes and the best thing to do is make a noise or bump into him. Just something that reminds him that his not where ever his mind is and that’s in the present. But I heard these assholes saying that they got their kicks out of kicking your stuff and stomping on your hand and I realized that it was my fault that happened and I’m really, really sorry.”

Steve stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Hey, it’s not your fault, you were only doing what you thought would help. I wasn’t spacing out or whatever. I was just feeling sorry for myself over a stupid holiday. But apology accepted, I guess.”

Eddie nodded, feeling a little bit better about it.

Steve hopped out of the van and he turned back to Eddie. “Thanks for the ride, Eds.”

He slammed the door behind him and walked up to his big, dark, lonely, still house and Eddie felt a small pang of something like pity for the guy. And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.

When he got home, Wayne was waiting up for him.

“Did that boy get into any trouble when he got home?” were the first words out of his uncle’s mouth. Not so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘by your leave’.

Eddie shook his head. “They weren’t home. I don’t know if they went out to dinner without him or if they just went on one of their infamous business trips.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “What’s so infamous about them?”

“They leave so often,” Eddie murmured, “that Steve is pretty famous for the ‘rich kid, empty house’ trope you see movies these days.”

“He’s got friends he can stay with, doesn’t he?” Wayne pressed.

Again Eddie shook his head. “He blew up his friends group awhile back, called them all assholes and bullies over some chick. Then the chick broke up with him over the eldest Byers boy.”

Wayne patted the spot next to him on the sofa. “Tell me about this Harrington kid. You used to all the time, ranting and raving about something or another that he did and then you just stopped.”

Eddie flopped down on the sofa with a heavy sigh. “Like there wasn’t anything to tell after that, you know. He just faded into the background. Gave up his title of King of Hawkins High and then Friday happened.”

“And you found out he was being bullied,” Wayne finished. “I see. That’s got to be rough to go from being surrounded by people to not having anyone there for him.”

Eddie threw his head back onto the back of the sofa and let out a loud groan. “Like it’s my thing. Picking up the lost and the lonely. But this one comes with a lot more baggage than the others and I’m not afraid for me or the rest of my friends but...” He buried his fingers into his hair and screamed.

Wayne nodded. Eddie befriending Steve could make things worse for him and not better. But inaction might hurt the boy in the long run.

“Maybe do something for him that he doesn’t know it’s you,” he suggested to his nephew. “That way he knows he’s not alone, but your reputation won’t make things worse for him.”

Eddie frowned for a moment and then his eyes went wide. “Oh! I think I know exactly what to do!”

Wayne smiled at him. “I figured you would.”

****

Tag List:

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

2- @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

3- @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

4- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

5- @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

6- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

7- @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

8- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @swimmingbirdrunningrock

9- @croatoan-like-its-hot @lolawonsstuff @moonshadows-13 @lololol-1234 @dotdot-wierdlife

10- @slv-333 @ravenfrog

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rom com au

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blue-jisungs · 2 days

Note

hey, how are you doing ?? hope you’re doing well !! 🎀🩷

i just wanted to ask if you can write a comfort fic with Jiung from p1h 🥺 everything is up to you i’ve been having hard times for the last few months and i’m just keep reading your works so i wanna say thank you, you really helped me get through this time ❤️‍🩹

just sleeping

# author's note ... sorry for such a long wait but actually we were twinning and i was going through some stuff too 😭 i hope you enjoy this tho <3 i hope you’re doing better now and i’m happy my silly little writing could help you cheer up, even a bit 🫂❤️‍🩹

# summary ... jiung enjoys every moment with you, even if it’s just a nap

# warnings ... mention of throwing up (but in a joking way), might seem a little suggestive but only if u squint ++ whole p1h cameo because i love them so much:(

# word count ... 1085

entering the dorm with keeho and intak, jiung is surprised at how quiet the place is.

“now that’s suspicious…” keeho giggled and three boys took off their shoes and put away their jackets.

bags rustling in their hands, they walked up to the living room. the soft sound of mario kart music echoed in the room but… the game seemed far forgotten.

“is anyone there?” intak asked quietly and jiung stepped closer, heart swelling in his chest upon the sight in front of his eyes.

you were sitting in the middle of the couch, shota and jongseob resting their heads on your lap. taeyang was awkwardly resting his head against the youngests’, hands wrapped around your legs… and his bottom part of the body uncomfortably on the floor.

keeho cooed and whipped out his phone, capturing this cute moment.

“what is that supposed to mean!” jiung grunted dramatically, noticing three gaming controllers messily thrown on the ground and a book of yours.

“they fell asleep, you should be grateful” your sleepy murmur caught their attention.

your tired gaze met your boyfriend’s curious eyes and you sent him a lopsided smile.

“what even happened here?” keeho laughed softly and started to pick up the controllers from the ground.

“well shota and seob were playing games, suddenly seob leaned against me so i started scratching his head. and then shota wanted too… and then tae came and protested that he wants too but welp, he didn’t fit on the couch so…” you chuckled, careful not to wake them up.

“idiots” jiung crossed his arms and noticed the sleepiness lingering in your gaze.

he knew that for the past few weeks (if not longer!) you’ve been struggling with work and academic stuff. on top of that, you were exhausted mentally, struggling with socializing and finding happiness in even your favorite hobbies.

and yet… here you are, hanging out with his friends… scratching their heads and letting them asleep on you.

“okay, enough of this. y/nnie, i bought something for you” your boyfriend hummed and poked theo’s arm.

“yeah, you must be pretty cramped up” intak sighed and shook the youngest’s shoulders.

you gently tucked shota’s hair behind his ear and woke him up with a soft tap on his back.

“what is it?” he yawned, sitting up. his hair was sticking in every direction, causing you all to laugh. the vibrations of your body stirred jongseob awake completely.

“my body…” theo groaned, massaging his neck. his eyes widened upon seeing the rest of the members being back “hi there”

“oh she has you all in a chokehold” keeho grinned and nudged jiung.

“did you even sleep?” seob asked you quietly, smacking away intak’s hands. you nodded, even though it wasn’t fully true. you were sleepy, sure, but you didn’t nap like them.

“okay, let’s make some food” intak clapped his hands, the youngests’ ears perking up.

once they were off you, you stretched your arms with a pleasant hum.

“how was the shopping, baby?” you asked jiung, who walked up behind you. then, you felt his warm hands on your neck and arms. massaging your sore muscles gently, you let your hands drop (and your neck too) “that’s nice…”

“we bought some clothes, intak bought some lego. i saw a cute hoodie and thought you’d like it so…” he wanted to go and show it to you but he noticed the way your arms relaxed. his thumb pressing in the middle of your neck. a groan ripped out of your throat, causing the boys in the kitchen to laugh.

“ew, disgusting!”

“i’ll show you the hoodie later, okay? and how was your day?” jiung ignored them, fingers working their way to the side of your neck. the pressure was a bit tough but in a pleasant way.

“fine… boring… missed you. so, nothing new… oh, right here, please” you hummed, letting out a small sigh when he stumbled upon a certain spot. he smiled and continued on.

“i’m literally gonna throw up, can you take this somewhere private?” theo snickered.

“ugh, intak, we’ll have to stay out of the dorm for a while” keeho sighed dramatically and you shot your head up, glaring at him “joking! joking…”

“c’mere, ji. they are just haters…” you mumbled and turned around, kneeling on the couch. wrapping your hands around his neck, you pecked his lips in a playful manner.

“ew! okay, sorry! just go!” keeho laughed, amused by the situation. the truth was, he just wanted you two to have some privacy – especially considering that you haven’t seen each other for the whole day.

you leaned away from jiung and stood up, grabbing your long forgotten book. after leaving it on the coffee table, he grabbed your hand gently and the bag in other.

entering his shared room, you looked around. the window was open, a nice breeze sneaking in.

“here, try it on” jiung leaned down and handed you the cloth. the hoodie was really cute – exactly how you liked it. it fit perfectly too.

you spun dramatically and posed.

“and?” you asked. jiung was observing you, smitten. a cocky smile was blooming on his lips.

“it’s perfect. what do you think, though?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“it doesn’t smell like you yet. other than that, i love it. thank you, baby” you hummed and placed a kiss on his cheek.

jiung melted upon the sweet gesture. everything you did caused his heart rate to speed up, even after almost two years of dating.

“how was your day?” jiung asked and you fought a yawn, nodding.

“as usual… do you wanna take a nap? those rascals didn’t really let me sleep… taeyang talks awfully a lot of things in his sleep, did you know that?” you giggled and before he answered, you already hopped into his bed, burying yourself in the blankets.

spotting the plushie you bought for him ages ago, you grabbed it and pressed to your chest.

“i’m no fun, am i? just sleeping all day” you giggled, a spark of guilt in your eyes. jiung shook his head and in a blink of an eye was next to you, arms wrapping around you securely.

“i was tired too. besides, i don’t mind if i sleep or go bungee jumping. as long as you’re with me, i’ll enjoy everything” he hummed and pressed a tender kiss on your cheek bone. melting into the gesture (and because of his words), your eyes began to close.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

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meara-eldestofthemall · 15 hours

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All of the grief counseling sites say that writing is cathartic. Having spent so much of my life writing (and editing) it should be natural for me, so I thought I'd give it a shot. What the heck; this is my blog and if I want to be a little self-indulgent every now and then I can. Besides, I doubt anyone is actually going to read this.

It now been a little over a month since I buried my husband and the dirty little secret about grief is that it never ends. You just get better at living with it. I still wake up at night because our bed feels empty without him. A decade ago,I'd never have believed that I'd miss having to wrestle for the covers. Or the snoring.

There are things I kind of expected, such as the approximately two hundred brochures from gravestone companies (excuse me, a Memorial/Monuments Business). While it's an odd thing to see your beloved's life reduced to two dates (born and died) it's just... weird to see your own name next to his with date of death left blank. I mean I know I'm going to die eventually but that blank space gives me the impression that Death (who in my imagination looks surprisingly like Alfred Pennyworth) is standing next to the stone impatiently tapping their watch. Why do I feel as if it is impolite to keep Death waiting?

There are also things I never expected, such as all the solicitations to join senior dating sites. While I'm sure that there are old ladies who take joy in the idea that there even older men who want the opportunity to make a play for their wrinkled bodies, I am not one of them. The only one I intend to invite anywhere near my bedroom is the dog I'm going to be getting. If they get too pushy I can put then put them in a cage and no one will call the cops on me.

My auto insurance went up. I called AlState, told them my husband had died and after offering their condolences they raised my premium. Granted, it was only a few dollars but it's the principal of the thing. My driving record is exemplary, not so much as a speeding ticket in 30 years, but because I am now covering one instead of two it costs me more? That makes no sense whatsoever.

Thanks for listening. I feel a little better. Maybe there is something to cathartic writing after all.

#meara rants #i'm old i'm odd and unlikely to change at this point in my life #bat-gran rambles

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andromeda-nova-writing · 18 hours

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Hate at first sight - Alhaitham Requested by @isekyaaa

Contains suggestive lines for the sake of a joke

“Tighnari, You know anyone who could translate this?” She brought over the book to him. It was an old book she found while cleaning up her grandpa’s house. A book in a foreign language that her grandpa had forgotten over the years leaving its contents unknown to his family. “It’s supposed to be an heirloom.”

Tighnari looked over the book she had handed to him. A language that was unrecognizable to him but recognizable in that he had seen one of his friends reading a book in what looked to be a similar language. “I know a guy. If you're free tonight you might have a chance to get it translated or at least be pointed in the right direction.”

“Why tonight?"

“Cyno made a new deck again. Your translator should be there.”

“I forgot you have game nights with the General Mahamatra. I shouldn't take up too much of your time. Well as long as this translater of yours is good at their job.”

“He is. Just know he can be a little blunt. Though little may be an understatement. And with Kaveh there, don't be surprised if you see some sort Of argument.”

“You're friends must be a lively bunch. Wait Kaveh is the one with blonde hair right? He was the one who was here two weeks ago?” She asked making sure her memory was correct.

“He was. Why?”

“He gave me advice on what rug I should pick. He didn't even see where it would go and gave me perfect advice. I really would like to thank him. My living room actually feels like a separate room even though it's an open floor plan.”

“I'm sure he'll appreciate it.”

It was nice to say hello to Cyno even though she didn’t know that super well. Most of her knowledge came from Tighnari mentioning him. But that and the fact she didn’t talk to him much meant that she really didn’t know him. It was entertaining to hear a few of his jokes though. The juxtaposition of the wordplay with how stoic his delivery was may have been the only reason she enjoyed them though.

While Kaveh acted as if he had known her for their entire lives. He was warm and welcoming. But also the moment she thanked him it was like he became a second sun in the room. He was extremely giving, offering to give her home interior design advice any time. It was evident in his face and how he spoke how much he appreciated the thanks even if it was just over what shape of rug to get.

It was enjoyable to be around all three of them. Though as nice as their company was it wasn't the reason she Had followed Tighnari along to his game night With his friends at the tavern. She still had a book in her bag that needed to be translated and there was no translator in sight.

“Tighinari, are you sure your translator is supposed to be here?”

“I’m sure he’ll show.”

“Translator?” Kaveh asked before his smile evaporated away. “You’re here for Al Haitham?”

“That’s a first,” Cyno commented.

“Well, now my translator has a name. But yes.” She pulled the book out of her bag. “My grandpa said it’s a family heirloom but no one in my family can even read it. Tighnari said that he’d be able to translate it for me.”

“At a horrible cost though. You couldn't have just sent her in the direction of the Akademiya?” Kaveh asked, being quite dramatic about the situation.

“I'd rather have someone that Tighnari trusts than some I don't know who. The book is an heirloom after all.”

“It will be fine,” Tighnari reassured, he pointed at the door. “Even then, he’s here.”

Al Haitham made his way over to their table. He sat down at the table already looking annoyed at who knows what.

Tighnari was kinda enough to briefly explain the situation to him along with a basic introduction. Even though Al Haitham had agreed to translate he looked as if Y/N's simple request was asking too much. Maybe a frown was just permanently etched into his face.

Al Haitham held the book looking over the cover. “To count the ways.” He translated the cover before flipping through the pages. His eyes widen skimming through the contents. He looked over at Y/N who looked brimming with excitement to learn what was in the book. “This is just erotica.”

Cyno slowly placed the cards in his hands on the table now fully paying attention to what was unfolding in front of him. Kaveh choked on his wine only for Tighnari to pat his back as he coughed.

Y/N’s face dropped. “It's a heirloom. It’s been in my family longer than my grandpa has been alive. It can’t be. You must be mistranslating it.” She reasons.

“Your heirloom is in an old form of a Fontaine language. A language I’ve been reading since I was 17. Do you want me to translate it aloud for you?” His words were an insult and a challenge to her.

“If you know it so well then could you give me a real translation.”

Al Haitham rolled his eyes opening the book back up. “Her eyes widen at the sight of his toned chest. In a frantic haze of want she quickly moved to help remove his belt excited to see the sight of his-”

Y/N snatched the book from his hands. Her face was warm with embarrassment. “It was nice talking with you three but I have to go.” She politely excused herself from others before turning to face Al Haitham. “You could drown in a ditch for all I care.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #Al Haitham #Alhaitham #Al Haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #fem! reader #can you guess i can only deal with him in the group setting of 4ggravate #i do not like this man #he gets on my nerves and i hate that i agree with him so much #yes i have him at level 90 and also would like throw him down the stairs #i will happily take a joke prompt as way to practice other characters as well #though warning they could be out of character #i should have waited till after the new quest as a refresher on how everyone talks

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multiplicity-positivity · 23 hours

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Living with the Haters

Hey folks - we had made a post not long after the influx of TikTokers came over with our thoughts on the situation and some advice and encouragement. In that post, we mentioned that they would probably get bored and leave. We still think this could happen, but as time goes on and they dig their claws in, it seems more and more likely that they might be here to stay. So here’s our thoughts on things as they are now and how we can work together to keep our community safe.

1. Do Not engage with them!

We’ve seen that a lot of these users are gaining traction and having a hearty laugh due to others sending them asks inciting violence, calling them out, or begging them to change.

Let us say right now that sending someone threats or suicide bait is NEVER okay, no matter how bad of a person you think they are. No exceptions. It’s not good to try and build ourselves up by tearing others down. Not only will this tactic just not work, it will only inspire these folks to be bolder, brasher, and more unkind. Hate from others does not inspire change - it only strengthens resolve.

So please, refrain from sending hate to any anti-endo posting in the #pluralgang tag! Give these people the attention they deserve - absolutely none at all!

2. Keep yourself safe and BLOCK!

Someone posting in the tags wishing violence on endos? Block!

Someone making cutesy “endos you’re not real and will never be valid uwu” posts? Block!

Someone posting in our tags “Why I think endos aren’t real/Why endos are harmful”? Block!

Someone making fun of endos, plurals, our community, and the labels we’ve coined to describe our experiences? Block!

Someone angrily slinging slurs in our tags? Block!

Someone crossposting their posts with plural inclusive tags (#pluralgang, #actually plural, etc) and also endo hate tags (#endos fuck off, #anti endo, #kys endos, etc)? Block!

Block anyone who makes you uncomfortable! Block anyone who denies you the right to define your own experiences in language that works best for you and your system! Block anyone who uses our inclusive tags to spread hateful ideas! Block liberally, block without remorse!

If you have any sideblogs, make sure to block these users from those blogs so that they cannot access any of your posts! Blocking a user from your main will not keep that user from viewing your other blogs. You can block on a sideblog through your Account Settings on Tumblr desktop version - reach out if you need any help with this!

3. Stay positive and active in our tags!

Don’t stop using #pluralgang and other inclusive tags because they’re getting overrun with TikTokers. Keep using them! In fact, use them even more! Post positivity, gush about your system, have discussions and conversations about plurality, post art, post poetry and personal experiences, just keep posting! We can reclaim our tags if we work together to fill them with posts that spread warmth, kindness, and earnest experiences. Make plural prompts! Ask questions! Post doodles! Take part in ask games! Make shoutouts for your headmates! Be your most authentic self, and don’t be ashamed for loudly and boldly being who you are!

In conclusion:

As more and more users block those who are spreading hate, they’ll find they have less and less content to hate on and interact with. They’ll be posting only for each other, and it won’t be as fun for them because there won’t be anyone to offend and trigger. This is what we’re aiming for!

And in the mean time, we can celebrate plurality how we choose! We can boost each other and lift each other up while simultaneously ignoring and avoiding those who seek to drag us down. Let’s work together to keep the plural community on Tumblr a beautiful, vibrant, and uplifting space!

Thank you so much for reading this! Stay safe out there, and take care!

#plurality #pluralgang #actually plural #endogenic #endo safe #endo friendly #pro endo #violence #threats #suicide #suicide baiting

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cookiesupplier · 2 days

Text

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Forty-Two

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, online bullying, panic attacks, stalking, mental health issues, conspiracy theories.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd as usual, enjoy!

To read from the beginning, check out the Masterlist Here!

tags: @faceless-mirror @missduffsblog @tamtam-elizabeth @witchyweeb34 @tearfallpixie

@wild-child-7747 @shilohrosechicken @lacktoesandtoddlerants @blackveilomens @valiantroeagleangel

@bngurngheart @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @embracethereaper42 @emmmm127

@sunsshinesunny @spicywhenspeaking

If you would like to be added to this tag list please see THIS FORM

Talia was ready, Ricky had told her yesterday before she left that he was going to pick her up along with Chris. She had offered to meet him there if he’d only tell him where they were going, but he’d been stubborn and refused to tell her what he had planned. More realistically, Talia probably thought he had absolutely no idea what they were going to do and him asking them on this date was spur of the moment and now was scrambling on the fly. What else could it be, he’d only just confirmed they were all without a doubt soulmates together yesterday afternoon, it wasn’t like he’d been planning this date for a while. Ricky had been vehemently against wanting to date her, wanting to date anyone, let alone having anything to do with soulmates, thanks to Grace. Let's be honest, Talia not only didn’t blame him, she had been feeling exactly the same way for years now, at least about the soulmates part. The dating part had been partially made that way because of the soulmate side of it.

So no, she didn’t blame him one bit, and yes, she thought he was scrambling now find something that was worthy of this date, at least she hoped he was. Then again, if anyone could get a reservation, or whatever he had planned, for something last minute in this town, it would be a member from a band that had made a name for themselves. Not to mention called this town home. Who knows what he could be coming up with on the fly.

By the time the pair of them had finished with work together to get her ready, Talia felt like a porcelain doll, plucked, and polished to perfection. At least she had managed to talk her out of the stiletto heels she tried to convince her to borrow. There was no way she would have wanted to wear them on a date even if she’d known where she was going, let alone a mystery date. So instead she was wearing some mid-heel wedges. They were enough that they still made her ass look phenomenal according to Ava, but still felt like she had solid footing, she never felt like she had the balance to tiptoe in stilettos anyway. Ava had tried to claim to convince her that it wasn’t balance, it was confidence, but all it got from Talia was an eye roll as she turned back to the mirror to finish her makeup.

Now, she was waiting in the foyer of Vinny’s house until Ricky and Chris got there. She had always planned to. However, Ava tried to insist on going even one step further than that, just waiting for them to come to the door apparently wasn’t enough for her. This was an official date, Ava had even wanted to open the door herself like she was her overprotective parent. Only to have Talia scoff slightly and glancing over to Vinny.

“Hey Vinny, so, you know how I’m not a cock block while I’m living here?”

Oh, watching his eyes go wide right then was amusing, perfect.

“Right, so-”

“Ava, babe, let's go make some popcorn and watch a movie-”

Yea, he was getting what she was throwing down, now, whether Talia would actually do what she was implying, making his sex life very difficult and all that? That was beside the point. Obviously, Vinny wasn’t about to take that risk by letting his girlfriend get in the way. Talia couldn’t help but chuckle a little as she witnessed a complaining Ava being pulled along as Vinny sort to get her out of the way as she waited for Ricky and Chris to arrive. Hopefully it wouldn’t take them much longer. She was at least still waiting inside, Ava might not get to usher Ricky and Chris inside to interrogate them as she had wanted to, but Talia was still going to expect them to come to the door like gentlemen. It was a date, after all. It was almost a shame Ava was already practically living with Vinny, she’d skipped this part, cheater.

Oh, oh! There was the doorbell. Hearing a squeal from the kitchen and Vinny’s voice calling Ava’s name, followed by a No, Talia laughed, good luck Vinny wrangling her tonight, he was going to need to. Talia had a funny feeling, if Vinny didn’t manage to keep her occupied, she was going to get plagued with messages all night with how the date was going.. Actually.. Before she reached the door, she turned her head and called out back into the house,

“Vinny, confiscate her phone, will you?”

“Consider it done!”

Oh, she didn’t know if there was a scuffle, or if Vinny had taken her phone at that exactly moment, but then:

“Hey!”

Laughing as she moved towards the door, hearing the echoes of Ava’s complaints as she made it to answer the knock. That was one less thing she had to worry about at least, she could get the run-down of her date, after it was over and not pestering her during their date. As the door swung open, her eyes fell on Ricky and Chris.

They’d both walked to the door, of course, there was no way they one of them was going to stay in the car. Ricky not only had been the one that planned the date, he knew where they were going, but Chris insisted. There was no way that they were both going to stay in the car and just honk the horn to wait for her, no chance. Something about tonight felt like they’d been waiting for this date forever, which was rather funny, because Rick, had been in a committed relationship for years, so how was he waiting for this?

He’d almost gotten engaged to Grace, even.

Yet, there was still something about tonight, something that felt, right. While it felt like he’d had years of his life ripped away, and that fear, that pain, he wouldn’t lie, it was still a wound that was open. He’d catch himself with moments wondering about what she was doing when he’d get reminded of her, fuck, how long was he going to be reminded of her, and it was going to kill him her lies, and the manipulation. Then he thought of Talia, and the relief, it wasn’t instant, she actually made the pain worse for a while. After all, there had been a moment when it was like he just couldn’t breathe. Then, now, when he could take a breath, that pain bled away and everything felt better. Adding Chris to the mix, and Rick felt so much calmer. The paranoia about worry about whether he could trust himself, just as he said to Talia, he wouldn’t lie, it was till there, but trusting both of them, together? That thought was so much easier. That was why he was here, that was why he was sure he could do this now.

So yes, it felt like he’d been waiting for this day, like something in him had been holding his breath waiting for this moment when everything was just how it was meant to be.

Taking one car, it was just so much more reasonable that Chris following him in his, Ricky drove them to Vinny’s to pick up Talia. No, he wasn’t giving Chris a hint of where they were going for their date. Both of them were dressed nice and casual, nice jeans, shirts, jacket hoodies, Chris knew him pretty well in that. Rick had no idea however what to expect from Talia, and he hadn’t told her what to expect from tonight.. So when the door opened and they saw her in that red dress.

Oh, that dress.

He would be worried she had been expecting something far more extravagant than he had planned, but all he could think about, as he looked over her, was how exquisite she was. Her eyes were bright, and the fact that they were dressed casual didn’t seem to make her blink. If anything, she giggled happily as she quickly came out of the front door of the house, closing it behind her.

“Damn, JellyBean, aren’t you something gorgeous tonight, sure we have to go out Rick?”

Smiling at the question from Chris, and the way Talia’s cheeks brightened from the obvious appraisal from them both as they walked down the path at the front of the house towards Ricky’s car in the driveway.

“If we don’t, put that dress to waste, be a damn shame Spookie. You do look absolutely amazing, Sweetheart.”

Ricky couldn’t help but jibe at him, which had the blushing Talia in another pearl of giggles as they got to the car, which he wasn’t about to complain about in the least.

“Come on now, that's Talia’s nickname for me.”

Ricky just had to grin, chucking as Chris complaint, enjoying the way the other man’s face flushed all the same when he called him it. He might be complaining, but it had an effect, it was obvious.

“But it's so much fun making you squirm just now.”

He grinned as he opened the front passenger door for her, Chris could sit in the back, he wasn’t about to regulate Talia to the back when she had come out dressed up like that. Chris was just going to have to deal with it, but considering the way that he went straight for the back door without any fuss, he certainly didn’t seem to mind when Talia slid into the front seat.

As he climbed in behind the driving wheel, before he even got the car started, Chris was asking from the backseat.

“Now that Talia is here, can we get a hint of what we’re doing, or where we are going, now?”

Ricky shook his head with a laugh. Chris had been trying to get the information out of him all morning, but he’d been refusing, telling him that it wasn’t fair to tell him, but not Talia, of course, he’d use that against him.

“You just can’t be patient and accept a surprise, can you, Babe?”

Now that, got even more of a reaction from him than Spookie, that was definitely Talia’s, and with that, Ricky just grinned, yes, he had a good feeling about how this night was going to go. Starting the car, ready to get going as he pulled out of the drive and onto the road so they could get on their way. Ricky smirked as he focused on the road ahead, glancing in his rear view mirror at the squirming Chris in the back seat, knowing the effect he’d had on him. Enjoying the effect he’d had on him. Still, he was the only one that had any idea where they were going, so he had to focus, and he did. Change of topic, something else.

“So, Talia, what was up as you came out, all amused, practically giggling like a school girl.”

That just seemed to make her giggle again,

“That, was because I got Vinny to confiscate Ava’s phone. I mean, with how she has been all day, not to mention the fact she had planned to answer the door and wanted to interrogate the two of you before our date? I just knew she wasn’t going to leave me alone all night long, so after sort of, implying I’d cock block him if he didn’t help me, he called Ava off, and asked him to confiscate her phone. Then I walked out the door as she complained.” Her explanation was met from both men by a round of laughter, just the fact that she’d used the implication of cock blocking Vinny to get him on her side tonight had been hilarious enough. It was definitely a smooth ploy.

“Oh that's smart Sweetheart, very smart.”

“I love it JellyBean, remind me never to get in your way.”

All three of them laughing as they drove, their date night starting off in good spirits already.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#motionless in white #miw #ricky olson #ricky olson fanfiction #original female character #soulmates #fanfiction #miw band #soulmate au #ricky olson fanfic #chris motionless #chris cerulli #chris cerulli fanfic #fic: every rose has its thorns

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