#at least now i sew and make patches

[unstationarywagon]

I want to do yoga, it makes me feel good and keeps me healthy.

I want to work out, I have some weights and I could really benefit from some HIIT.

I want to get a saxophone, I played in school and I really want to learn ska style.

I want to learn a new language, I have a program picked out and I just need to pay for it somehow.

I want to play my guitar, I never learned but it can't be too late to try.

I want to meet people, my social life is severely lacking and I don't have many friends to talk to.

I want to do things. why can't I do things? why do I just freeze when I actually have free time and end up doing nothing? zoning out watching youtube, staring at my phone, scrolling scrolling scrolling scrolling scrolling. am I wasting my time? could I be doing more? I should be doing more.

[raepliica]

(content warning: blood)

Sewed Up Heart

[ID: A Trigun comic done in grayscale with red accents. First, an anatomical heart gushes blood, forming a puddle which shifts into Vash's coat. Vash's gloved hands can be seen sewing up a tear at the hem.

Vash raises his hands, which are now bare and covered in blood. He looks sweaty and distressed, and he raises his coat to his face and cries into it. His clenched hands rip the sewed portion apart, and the red thread leads to a heart whose own stitches are tearing apart. The background gets darker and darker, and the red looks brighter and starker against it.

Then the background returns to white, and brown-skinned hands using embroidery scissors snip a red thread. Wolfwood holds up Vash's repaired coat, grinning proudly, and does a happy thumbs-up in Vash's direction. Vash lifts his head, seeming distant.

Wolfwood holds out the coat. As Vash puts out his hand to take it, the cloth is replaced so Wolfwood is dropping a sewed-up heart in Vash's hand. Vash rubs the coat against his face with a teary smile. End ID] ID CREDITS

[doueverwonder]

do u ever venture into a tag u don't usually and then just slowly back up finding out about smth u didn't want to

[alexaloraetheris]

Oh boy, I feel like it's time for a post nobody will like.

We all know clothes are getting worse. Recently I found some jeans I bought in high school, and since I lost weight recently I tried them on and they fit, so I'll be wearing them once we get out of the Hell season.

But I took them and compared them to the most recent pair of jeans I bought, and... Honestly the difference in quality is so fucking stark it made me want to give up on life. The jeans I wore in high school have gone through everything. I'm talking half of Europe here, because one of our teachers was pretty big on school trips everywhere she could get the money for. They've been washed, tumbled, survived an actual car crash and they're still good.

The most recent pair I machine-washed ONCE, everything else was hand-wash only. I babied them to the max because they made my ass look like was on Instagram. Do you know what they look like now?

They're full of fixes like these. They lasted less than a year on their own. I got another decent year out of them SOLELY because I kept fixing them. And fixing them again. The crotch alone I had to fix SEVEN TIMES. I COUNTED.

And these weren't cheap jeans! C&A jeans tend to be around 40$ these days, and I got these for about 30 with a discount. I expected them to last me AT LEAST a few years, because those high school jeans? THEY'RE THE SAME FUCKING BRAND.

Considering this was the quality I was getting for nearly 40$ I figured I might as well get the same quality for 15$ and downloaded SHEIN. I didn't get jeans from them but I got some light, fluttery summer pants in the style that, honestly, I fucking love. I got three pairs for the price of one C&A jeans, and I am aware I will have to baby them even more, because out of the five pairs of pants in total I have bought on SHEIN only ONE is made of the fabric that I might be brave enough to machine wash. And with SHEIN continually getting sued for using sweatshops I probably won't be getting those pants again.

So what to do with that shitfuck situation?

I am insanely lucky my grandma knew how to sew really well and didn't mind me looking over her shoulder as long as I was quiet. I am aware that's not a skill everyone has, but quite frankly? When nobody has any money and even paying big bucks for clothes does not guarantee any kind of quality, and even fucking THRIFT STORES are full of just junk now, I think it's time to face the facts.

You need to learn how to sew.

I'm not talking about sewing your own clothes, though if you can and you have the time and patience, it's probably the best option (good luck finding decent fabric, because we can't even find THAT anymore unless you're ordering from fucking Belgium). I'm talking about fixing up seams and sewing on a patch, little repairs that make your clothes last. It might be junk, but with sewing you can make it last twice as long for the price of a spool of thread.

Now that I've pissed off everyone who is, for some reason, morally opposed to learning how to sew because it's a 'girly hobby' or 'supporting the patriarchy' (a take that left me baffled like nothing else) I'm going to piss off everyone who already knows how to sew.

I recommend getting this little guy.

It's called a stapler sewing machine, for obvious reasons. If I recall correctly, it was invented to fix clothes on the go for fashion shows and/or cosplay. It does only a chain stitch and needs to be pushed manually, but if you need to, like, hem your trousers and you don't want to spend half an hour on doing it manually (and don't already have an actual sewing machine) this is a lifesaver.

Here's a tutorial how it operates:

Now, why am I recommending this? Because it will only set you back six bucks. I got two right off the bat because I was banking on one not working (and I was right) and so I could use it for spare parts. The one in the video (Spring Come) is the one I have as well, and it's the one that actually works. I can't vouch for any unmarked ones, but the blue one works. It IS a little temperamental, but with a bit of practice it makes things so much easier.

The reason I'm not recommending an electric machine of any kind, even the one that costs 18$, is because, if you're a beginner, then an automatic sewing machine becomes a machine that exponentially speeds up the rate at which you make mistakes, and if it breaks down, good luck fixing it unless you have a dad/uncle/friend who knows his electronics. This thing can be fixed with a screwdriver, and takes the same needles as an ordinary sewing machine.

You can buy a bundle of needles just about anywhere for any price and they'll be decent as long as they're steel, but I would recommend looking for some actual better quality thread. Everywhere else, you can pinch pennies, but the thread itself is what's holding your clothes together, so this should be the part where you're looking for quality instead of price.

Alright, those of you who didn't scroll past with a derisive scoff at my take, I hope I've been helpful.

[our-trans-punk-experience]

THE BATTLE JACKET MASTERPOST

FINALLY PUNKS IT'S HERE

a battle jacket (also called battle vest, cut-off, punk jacket, patch jacket, and probably other stuff) is a jacket (duh) usually made from denim or leather with DIY additions of patches, studs, flags, painted panels, chains, and other bonuses, used to signify subculture. Punk, metal, and biker scenes all use patch jackets, but I'll only go into specifics about how they're used in the punk scene. Metalheads, I think, almost solely personalise with music/band shit. Bikers use them to signifying which club you're riding with. Punks started using them in the 70s and they've remained a staple of the subculture's style since. They're good for signalling your politics, bands you like, and other information you might want to get across. They also look cool.

HOW TO START

If you're here I assume you wanna learn how to make your own so I'll cut the history lesson short and get on to the practicals.

1: first you're going to want to get a plain jacket, probably denim or leather, but you could get a canvas jacket if you're nervous and new to the scene because it's way easier to stitch canvas, so you could experiment with that as you're building confidence. The jacket should be at least a bit oversized because with all the stitching and painting or whatever you'll be doing, you could run into fit issues with a very form fitting jacket. also, this jacket might frequently be worn over other jackets or layers so that will help with that too

2: start making choices. namely whether you want to keep the sleeves. obviously you can remove or reattatch the sleeves later but I think making that big mod first is a good starting point to help you feel like it's a work in progress. so if you're going to chop the sleeves I say do it now

3: brainstorm. I know, I know, coming up with your own ideas is hard, but this is your own totally literally unique piece, so think about what sorta look you want

4: you don't have to brainstorm alone though. search tumblr or pinterest for punk jackets, punk patches, punk clothes ect for inspiration. you might get a good idea for an individual patch, or for a broader layout

PATCHES

1: the big deal. this is what will make your jacket into a battle jacket. there are some unofficial rules/sayings in the scene about what sort of patches you should put on your jacket. some people get dickish sometimes about if you put a non-punk band on your jacket? however i think that is bollocks and you should do whatever you want forever. one saying i do personally mostly stick to is "politics up front, bands on the back" with the idea you stick your politics on your front so you can see the punches coming

2: where do you get the patches? you make them yourself. You can buy ofc but don't get shit off amazon or shein or whatever the fuck. If your fav band or small artist is selling patches go for it though. You will have the most choice if you make your own patches. Do you have scrap fabric (maybe the sleeves of the jacket, which is where i got a lot of my patch material)? Do you have paint and paintbrush? good. you can make a patch

3: how do you do that? well depends on whether you stencil or freehand. stencil means you cut out an outline, of say a band logo, out of card, and use that as a stencil. freehand means you paint whatever tf you like

4: paint?? yes paint. messy as you like. start maybe with simple slogans or symbols often found in the punk scene like "ACAB" or "eat the rich". maybe an anarchy symbol. i also like to paint a layer of mod podge over my designs to waterproof them.

5: great, you've got a patch, what are you going to do with it? sew it onto the jacket. unless ofc you bought an iron-on in step 2, in which case iron that shit on and be careful punks. most likely though, you're sewing it on. a lot of punks use tooth floss to sew on because its cheaper, easier to find, readily waxed and waterproof, and does a better job sewing shit down onto heavy duty material like leather or denim. I use a combined running stitch and whip stitch personally

STUDS n SPIKES

1: all those punks you've seen have metal sticking out their jacket eh? yeah, theres a whole lot of options here. spikes of many different sizes and shapes, which within that can be stitch on, screwback, or have fold down prongs on the back of them

2: where do you put them? probably the front or top of the jacket. you can put them on the back but that might be uncomfortable, or rip up someone's upholstery

3: where do you get them? you can still DIY these by cutting up a metal drinks can [whole other post] but BE CAREFUL. i suggest checking out the internet for these, same buying rules as patches though. no shein. no amazon.

OTHER SHIT??

1: go wild

2: other common additions would be chains, lighter caps, badges, and can tabs

HAVE FUN PLS ASK ME QUESTIONS AND SHARE IF YOU START A BATTLE JACKET

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fellow + gidel ssr time fellas

(This bastard took an entire soft pity :(( but hey, I got a Dorm Uniform Jade dupe and finally FINALLY my first Dorm Uniform Floyd on the way, so I ain't too pressed about it.) RISE UP FELLOWIVES NOW’S YOUR TIME

***Character profile, voice lines, Groovy, and vignette spoilers below the cut!!***

First off! His official profile, coffin, and candy (Fox Candy):

(School) Grade/Class: None

Birthday: May 17 (Taurus)

Age: 26

Height: 181 cm

Dominant Hand: Right

Hometown: ???

Club: None

Best Subject: Mathematics (specifically Arithmetic)

Hobby: Watching theater

Dislikes: Saving money

Favorite Food: Apples

Least Favorite Food: Potatoes

Special Skill: Sewing

We finally get confirmation of Fellow’s age! (He had previously said in Playful Land that he was 20-something.)

I love that Fellow’s best subject is math Deuce is jealous/j; it makes so much sense given that his inspiration, Honest John (and Fellow himself) aren’t good at reading. It’s that whole “kids are either good at math or English” stereotype. In Japanese, the phrase 算数 is used. 算数 refers to arithmetic, or very basic math taught in elementary school (adding, subtracting, multiplying, and dividing). That specific phrase explains Fellow’s elementary level of understanding. His dislike being saving money is also related to numbers; he spends the money he has right away to get by in the moment. Fellow doesn’t really have the skill or the luxury of financial planning, he has to focus on the here and now, looking out for both himself and Gidel.

OMG, his favorite and least favorite foods???? 😭 Playful Land has apple (core) flavored candies and popcorn… and again, this is a reference to Honest John and Pinocchio’s first encounter! He takes the kid’s apple and eats it, lol cnsvwiwguwkw Potatoes being his disliked food… Maybe it’s because it’s the “poor” man’s vegetable? Because potatoes are so versatile, keep for a long time, and are filling because of the starch content, Fellow might resort to eating them a lot, so perhaps as a result he got sick of the taste.

What I find most interesting about Fellow’s profile are his listed hobby and special skill. He largely comes off as despicable and a slimy scammer (which he is, don’t get me wrong), but we can see different sides to him in these details—both the inner child that had his dreams trampled but remains hopeful about the future and the big brother figure/guardian to a child. Gidel is actually formally referred to in Fellow’s profile as his (non-blood related) brother, which made my heart melt 🥺 TWST must know I have a thing for beastmen who act shitty but are actually excellent mentors to the children/j

Fellow enjoys watching theater. It’s a way of transporting you away temporarily to new worlds with crazy stories and emotional performances. When words aren’t enough, you sing. And when singing isn’t enough, you dance. It’s an area that’s so full of life and joy, at least from the audience’s perspective. I’m thinking that watching theater must have been a form of escapism for Fellow, especially with how accessible it is (think of like street performances). Watching theater might also serve a dual purpose of teaching Fellow how to come across as amicable and friendly, which says a LOT about his character. He’s resourceful and able to learn from unconventional sources, then is able to apply those skills to real world situations.

Fellow’s special skill being sewing is surprisingly very cute! If you’ve taken one look at his and Gidel’s designs, we may have already spotted some of his handiwork. There’s mismatched fabric patches on their clothes!! The stitches look so clean too. The patterns not matching is probably because Fellow just used whatever scraps he was able to get his hands on, but I also like to imagine that he tried to make the best of the situation by incorporating the mismatched fabrics in a fun way (like the diamonds in his pants).

Next, can we talk about the composition of that GROOVY????

It’s another reference to the same Pinocchio scene! Fellow’s holding his book like Honest John did and it looks like he’s trying to teach Gidel the alphabet from words scratched on the sidewalk. Notice how the C is written backwards too 😂 He even wears glasses like when Honest John was trying hard to act like an intellectual.

And Gidel!!! Pencil and pad of paper in hand, he looks so interested to learn (something which was hinted at in Playful Land). Gideon in the film is also shown with a pen and pad of paper, scribbling down nonsense as Fellow pretends to diagnose Pinocchio.

Gidel glances up at Fellow with an expression of admiration. I love how wholesome their relationship is depicted as, it leaves a warm feeling in the heart.

The framing of this Groovy is very interesting. We have Fellow to our left—a direction has historically been associated with evil (in Italian, the word for left is even sinistra, as if to imply something sinister) and in the darkness. Gidel is the one to our right and in the light. It presents Fellow to us as someone who has given up on his dreams—but not completely, since we see some light touching his hat, gloves, and highest features + he is currently teaching Gidel and still has dreams of opening his own school. Gidel is shown in the light because he’s still a naive child that doesn’t understand how the world works. His dreams haven’t been destroyed yet, and there’s hope for him to have a better life since Fellow is looking after him and instructing him.

CHECK THIS OUT, GIDEL FOLLOWS FELLOW TO CLASS LIKE MARY'S LAMB OR SOMETHING????? Gidel pops out from under the desk or out of/behind Fellow's cape! Gidel also joins Fellow on the homescreen.

Some of Fellow's expressions are so priceless... For example, look at him in Flight! There's an unsure face and a little bead of sweat. (He makes a lot of pathetic accompanying sounds too, lol) Flying takes magic, so he's probably not confident or powerful enough to maintain flight for long stretches of time--though when he does nail it, he looks ultra smug.

ADGKVAVFOOEFIEQOfsl HIS SHOCKED FACE

How uncool, Fellow-san...

His attack sprites are very similar/identical to what we saw in Playful Land--Fellow's just playing for the opposite team now.

Gidel hops into battle to assist, so I guess they count as the first two-character card. It's been a while since I've seen these animations, but I think I can appreciate them a lot more now. I'm noticing new little things like how Fellow adds a bunch of showmanship into his attack, little flashy flourishes and even presenting Gidel with his arms splayed, as if welcoming a star to the spotlight. The attention to detail really is crazy for these.

If you want to read his voice lines in full, you can find an excellent fan translation of them here! I'll just be remarking on things I noticed while combing through the voice lines myself:

First off: bro calls himself Fellow Hones-SAMA???????? OKAY, KING 😭 Love that confidence you got goin' on there...

bifabsiyofbefe Love how he just reads a textbook and then flat-out admits he has no clue what the heck it's saying. Hey, honesty is a virtue.

Ace 💀 He has the balls to play a prank on an adult... I kind of want to know what the prank was, but at the same time I feel like I should be shaking my head and telling him off for doing it in the first place. I do appreciate that Ace being shitty brought out Fellow's true personality there for a second though, I live for it when Fellow gets real steamed and starts shouting that the NRC students are brats or that they should drop out if they have no motivation in school.

The way Fellow automatically clocked that Kalim is way too trusting and would surely be in danger even if he wasn't the one to come for him... Fellow, watch your back. Jamill WILL come for your sketchy ass for what you did back then.

I didn't find anything super interesting in Fellow's comments about Ortho, but I do think it reveals that there is value in him coming to school. It's only at NRC where Fellow can see such a curious thing like Ortho, and that speaks to the value of really going out there and being exposed to different things. That's part of Lilia's own growth arc too, and a large part of why he now spreads that same rhetoric.

Fellow remarks that Ramshackle is "pretty sweet", which means one of two things: either this is the refurbished post-book 6 dorm OR it's still the shabby pre-book 6 dorm, but since Fellow and Gidel have never really had their own stable housing, even run-down old Ramshackle seems like a massive upgrade.

Fellow and Gidel must have been so happy to see that lunch at NRC is free and served buffet style (so there's no limits to how much you can take). On top of that, they got dead chefs from 5 star restaurants staffing the kitchen! Those two really hit the jackpot, I hope they eat well.

AVUSDGVUADOVIAISDBIDAS THE DIALOGUE IMPLYING FELLOW CASUALLY BYPASSED THE SCHOOL'S BARRIER AND OTHER SECURITY MEASURES... So Chenya-core of him, really. Fellow may not have magical might, but he's seriously street smart to have found a way in like he has.

Small detail but I appreciate how Fellow has lines which call attention to Gidel. It doesn't just remind us that Gidel is there too, but it also demonstrates to us that Fellow actively tries to include him in the conversation despite Gidel's muteness (a condition which may lead others to outright ignoring him or talking down to him).

LAST THING (though it's not in MysteryShopTL's linked post): in his birthday greeting to the player, Fellow says that both you and him don't have talent for magic, so you should get along. I didn't think the game would acknowledge the player and Fellow's similarity in that sense, so it was very nice to be proven wrong.

And to finish off this post (which ended up being way more massive than I thought it would be), a quick summary of the vignettes!! If you want to read them in full, please check out MysteryShopTLs’ post!

In vignette 1, Fellow and Gidel are putting on a street performance in Silk City. Fellow collects fees from the onlookers and then tries to milk more out of them by spinning a story about how Gidel is a puppet that can walk without strings. Buuut Gidel moves like a normal living being and sneezes, which ruins the ruse and leads to the crowd getting mad at them. The duo run off, but Fellow reveals that while the locals were looking at Gidel, he used magic to steal some of their precious metals and jewelry. In the next vignette, Fellow and Gidel have moved on to Fairest City. It's said that they live a nomadic lifestyle and hop from place to place, never staying for too long in any one location because word of their scams may spread and cause a situation where they cannot reasonably make money through their lies. (Cute detail: Fellow listens to Gidel's suggestions on where they should go next and even praises Gidel's smarts.) This time Fellow's trying to auction off a magestone that he claims will allow anyone who holds it to use magic. The people of Fairest City don't believe him and give him the cold shoulder, which upsets Fellow (since he really hates it when others look down on him). He ends up using his UM to get his audience to be more pliant and manages to sell the magestone for a pretty penny. At the end of this vignette, Fellow drops a line about how he and Gidel are so free, how they can do whatever they want since they have nothing holding them back. I really love that thought~

AND IF YOU THOUGHT VIGNETTES 1 AND 2 WERE FUNNY HAHA TEEHEE CUTE, WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE VIGNETTE 3 💀 VIGNETTE 3 FELT LIKE IT WAS A TARGETTED SNIPE ON MY HEART

The setting is Sunrise City! Fellow and Gidel are being chased off by an angry person they tried to rob. It looks like they're unsuccessful today and will be going hungry. Gidel tries opening a random can of OIL in search of food, so Fellow scolds him and tells him to leave it be. Apparently Gidel does this a lot when he's hungry (just grabbing random shit and trying to eat it), even though Fellow has tried teaching him how to read. THIS IS WHAT THE CONTEXT OF THE GROOVY IS, FELLOW SQUATS DOWN (like we literally see his 2D model lowering) AND DRAWS IT ON THE GROUND FOR GIDEL TO SEE. O is for orange, I is for ice-cream, and L is for laugh. Fellow realizes that L is the only non-food word, but he couldn't come up with anything else. I wonder if like... this is some common game they do to distract from hunger. They have to imagine the food they could have but can't. And L being "laugh"? That can't be a coincidence. Fellow could have used any other L word as an example, even if he couldn't come up with a food that starts with L. It makes me think he picked "laugh" on purpose in an effort to lift Gidel's spirits and to try and distract from their circumstances.

Aaaah, as I was saying! Fellow gets upset that he doesn't know as much as your average 26-year old would since he never went to school. Gidel seems to sense his frustrations and reassures him with a pat, which reenergizes Fellow. He says he'll try to find some food, so Gidel should focus on making a fire. While gathering wood to burn, they come across a job posting by a shady rich man that Fellow and Gidel supposedly did another job for in the past. Fellow suggests that they check out the job and if they don't like it then they can leave. ADSKJBBSLDIADBLUBAB These are the events leading up to Playful Land... meaning that Fellow’s showmanship is wasn’t something he developed at the amusement park, but as a general coping and survival mechanism to get by day-to-day.

I uh. May or may not have cried a little at Fellow and Gidel's really wholesome interaction 😭 I MEAN YEAH OF COURSE I'M A SUCKER FOR BIG BROTHER CHARACTERS (and we certainly see that in how Fellow scolds Gidel and looks out for his wellbeing, both in the vignettes and in Playful Land) but also???????? ? ? ? ? ?? ?????? ? ? ? ?? I love Love LOVE how Gidel is shown to be supportive of Fellow as well. Fellow as the older person, the adult, and the able-bodied one of the duo is pulling most of the weight when it comes to getting resources and handling communication. However, Gidel plays an important role in their dynamic as well. He's the heart and the emotional support that Fellow needs when he's down in the dumps and being hard on himself. Gidel not only serves as a "reason" for Fellow to work hard (to support a child), but he also gives Fellow motivation and hope that tomorrow can be another day. YOU CAN REALLY TELL HOW MUCH THESE TWO CARE AND LOOK OUT FOR ONE ANOTHER OTL

OOOOOOOoooOOooOOGGHHHH MY HEART *clutches it* I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE, I CAN'T HANDLE THE ONII-SAMA OF IT ALL

[bizbat]

can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))

p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read

Always You . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Reader

~ Reader's appearance is not described

~ Wc: 1.086 K

~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.

~ You can find more of my works here.

Above all else, he'll always come to you.

Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.

He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.

You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-

Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.

It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.

You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.

It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.

"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."

You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.

He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."

It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.

"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"

The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.

He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.

It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."

[embarrasingmf]

what an idiot

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: you don’t listen to Dean after he gives you an order, and now he’s smug about it.

WORD COUNT: 668

WARNINGS: a little bit of swearing, not beta’d so there may be typos…

A/N: I had no idea what to make the title ugheklekwjfj. also would’ve loved to write more but I couldn’t think of anything 😭😭

prompt/idea requested by @0ffwiththeirh3ads !

“Y’need to listen to me next time.” Dean chastised you. He had been doing so for the last ten minutes.

All because he had told you not to waltz on into the vampire nest like you owned the place.

For context, you and Dean were hunting down a vampire nest.

Well, aspiring vampire nest considering there was really only four vampires. And you thought you could take them all on your own.

You remember Dean’s words so clearly: “Don’t go running in there without me.”

Of course you didn’t listen, you practically bolted in there while shouting “Who made you the leader?” after him.

Now that you think about it, you should’ve listened to him. Because now you were stuck with Dean patching up your injuries from trying to take on four vampires by yourself.

You could just feel the smug aura coming off of him in waves. He was fucking enjoying this. He was enjoying the fact that he was able to scold you for not listening to him.

In your defense, he wasn’t the actual leader of whatever Godforsaken team you, Sam, Castiel, and Dean had named Team Free Will.

Dean probably just gave the title to himself, because he was the oldest. Well, oldest physically considering Castiel was a literal angel.

“Will you listen to me next time?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked over at him.

He was currently knelt down by your side so he could get better access to the deep gash on your torso as you sat on an uncomfortable motel chair.

You cleared your throat, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Dean tsk’d, shaking his head. “‘m gonna need a more definitive answer than that, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Dean called everyone that. But he used it more on you to get under your skin.

And it worked, it worked so well.

You felt your head fall back, finding the popcorn-textured ceiling much more interesting than Dean all of the sudden.

You could feel his green eyes on you as he waited for your reply. You groaned before muttering a weak “yes,” under your breath.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear ya.” You grit your teeth, you could hear Dean’s smirk. You didn’t even have to look at him!

“Yes.”

That reply was much better than before, at least according to Dean it was, as he let out a small hum of contentment.

“Good,” He grinned, suddenly tugging on the makeshift stitch he had created to sew your wound tight.

You jumped in your seat as the sudden pain that shit through you. “Jesus Christ-!”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “Nope, just me.”

You wanted to slap him. You wanted to slap some sense into him so bad.

“Fuck you…” You grunted under your breath, Dean didn’t reply as he kept working on your wound. His touch much more gentle now.

You averted your gaze from the ceiling and looked over at Dean’s hands deftly stitching your gash closed.

It would definitely scar, but hey, at least it would make a cool story to tell in the future.

After about five minutes, Dean patted your leg before standing up.

He stretched, his back and knees popping from kneeling down and being hunched over.

“I think you should get me some pie as a reward for actually patching you up.” Dean teased, crossing his arms.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Nah, you can get that yourself.”

Dean pursed his lips together. “Oh c’mon, just do it!” He insisted.

“Fine!” You relented, shoulders slumping a bit. “But you owe me then.”

Dean raised his hands in the air as you pointed a finger at him. “Okay, I owe you a favor then I guess.” He chuckled, patting your back as a sign for you to get going and get him his pie.

“Better be back before I fall asleep, wouldn’t want to eat a cold pie in the morning.” He commented before you walked out of the room.

—————————————————————————

reblogs and feedback r appreciated! they keep me motivated <3

[badgerbl00d]

what makes one piece boys consider fatherhood

☆ characters: sanji, law, shanks

☆ up next: one piece boys experiencing love at first sight

☆ summary: things you do around these characters that make them think of starting families with you..

☆ a/n: this was so fun to write! i hope you all find this as cute as i did :)

sanji

1k words

“But the prince insisted on it, and they had to call Cinderella. She first washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the prince, who gave her the golden shoe..” you looked down at the now sleeping lump on your lap, and gently closed the book. 

“Looks like he’s out.”

Further out on the deck of the Sunny, you could hear the others playing. You identified Usopp’s voice and Luffy's laughter. 

Chopper had fallen asleep to his bedtime story and was out cold on your lap. His tiny breaths were slow and even. 

“He’s been sleeping for at least ten minutes. You know, if you read to him every night he’d probably have an actual bedtime,” Sanji said, his chin resting in his hand. 

He was sitting next to you, having brought you a drink to offset the evening temperature drop that had sent everyone running for sweaters. 

“I know. But he’s a pirate, Sanji,” you defended Chopper’s sleeping schedule, “And he’s old enough now to not need a bedtime.”

“Ah, maybe. But not too old, it seems, for a bedtime story.”

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing Chopper’s back as he slept.

“You know Luffy scraped his knee, playing around with Usopp all day.”

“You don’t say.”

“I swear I’ve seen him come out of battle with less injury,” you laughed, “I patched it up for him and he said he didn’t know I was a doctor.”

“I’m guessing all you did was clean it and put on a band-aid.”

“No idea how he’s made it this long.”

Sanji smiled as he took in a long drag of his cigarette. 

“Don’t smoke around Chopper while he sleeps,” you said, scolding Sanji yet again for the same thing.

He blew out the smoke, before begrudgingly putting it out on the ground.

“Wouldn’t wanna wake the baby,” he said. 

“He looks so peaceful,” you giggled, “I’m glad he feels safe enough to be resting thoroughly.”

You and the cook shared a long look at how his chest rose and fell. 

He would soon be snoring.

Sanji laughed, “My god! Are you sure you didn’t slip melatonin into his hot chocolate?”

You shot him a look.

“He spent all day running around with those two over there,” you gestured towards Luffy and Usopp, “And Robin had him helping her out in the library earlier. Between all that reading and running I’m sure he tired himself out. Does he look comfortable?”

Sanji nodded, smiling at you. 

You softly removed his hat from his head, setting it down next to him. 

“Should we take him to bed?” you asked Sanji.

“Yes. Eventually. But it’s nice out. Let’s go in ten minutes.” “All right, my love.”

You leaned back, letting your arms support your body weight, palms against the wooden planks of the ship. 

Sanji scooted closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes, not to sleep but to enjoy the cool air on your face and neck. 

Listening to the sounds of laughter and footsteps come to an end for the day as sleep started to spread throughout the crew.

Sanji silently watched you, unaware of your own dozing off with Chopper on your lap.

He thought about how readily you read him a story from his favorite book. How concern for his well-being had become your number one priority while he was with you. 

He felt his chest swell with a mixture of pride and love as he thought of all the other ways you cared for the crew.

Sewing Nami’s torn clothes, helping Robin with the laundry, reminding Usopp and Luffy to be mindful of their manners, and even making sure the swordsman was getting rest. 

He brought a hand to your back to lightly rub it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before gazing out at the open ocean. 

Thoughts of painting a room with soft hues of blue and building a crib started to form in the back of his mind. 

He imagined you carrying a baby, softly singing it to sleep. 

Some unfamiliar feeling tugged at his chest, it almost felt like anticipation. 

He took a deep breath and tried, to no avail, to direct his thoughts elsewhere.

A baby was- a lot. And you seemed perfectly content now. 

And anyways, a pirate ship was no place for a baby.

He sighed and pulled his eyes away from you, settling them back on the sea. 

Yet, he could imagine it.

With astounding clarity.

He could imagine buying diapers and binkies. Buying tiny clothes and matching outfits. 

Waking you up in the morning with breakfast and coffee in a house of your own. 

Coming home to you every night, staying in one place.

Your parents visiting and your lives being somewhat normal.

No bounties or navy or treaties or bars or women or swordsmen. 

But not now.

The soft swaying of the ship on choppy waters lulled him back to where he was.

The sounds of life at sea slowly came back to him. 

It was late and he had an early morning, full of cooking for the Pirate King ahead of him. 

“Sweetheart,” he softly spoke in your ear, ever so gently nudging you awake, “Let’s get to bed, hm?”

You yawned, nodding.

Slowly you picked up Chopper, still dead asleep, and carried him down the stairs toward his room.

Sanji followed right behind, the reindeer’s hat in hand. 

He opened the door for you and you walked in laying him down in his bed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

You stood next to Sanji, bringing your arms around his waist.

He kissed the top of your head, and then your forehead, and then your lips. 

“Tired, princess?”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. 

Sanji knew what he wanted. 

What you, so fondly looking down at the sleeping reindeer, wanted as well.

But you both had so much time and so many things to do first.

One day, he’d give you everything you wanted.

But for now, he’d carry you to bed.

law

0.7k words

“Okay, what about this one? Or is it too much?”

You turned towards Law, trying to smooth out the leftover wrinkles in your dress.

“You look beautiful in all of them,” Law said, writing something down, only halfway paying attention. 

You groaned, already starting to try on a different dress.

“You’re not paying attention.”

“I am.”

“Law, you haven’t looked up from your notes once. And you can’t just tell me I’m beautiful in everything to make up for it!”

“Well, you are.”

“Ugh!”

A smile spread on his face at your irritation with him, as he continued to go through the loose papers on his desk. 

“Look, here’s a dress that proves you wrong.”

You slowly spun around in a hideously fringed orange dress.

You flashed him a sarcastically large smile.

Law, to your surprise, did look up this time.

“Gorgeous.”

He spun around in his chair, burying his head back in his notebook. 

“Ugh, asshole.”

You sighed and continued to fish through the pile of dresses. 

You spotted a black lace one with a gorgeous neckline. 

Much better. 

“Ok, fine! I look beautiful in everything, especially this dress,” you pulled it down over your head, adjusting the sleeves, “Please confirm.”

You watched Law slide on his glasses and turn the chair back around slowly.

You laughed, “You’re so immature.”

You enjoyed the rare moments when he allowed himself to completely relax and goof off. 

“Just making sure I can give you an honest score, Miss Y/n.”

Oh.. this, he very much did like. 

“Orange dress better,” he lied, amused at how this provoked you.

He kept his eyes glued on you, admiring how snug the dress was on your curves.

You were going to kill him. 

“You know, it’s a good thing we don’t have a kid. Or I’d have to deal with two children.”

Law was just as intently eating up the sight of you. 

He’d meant every bit of it. You were always beautiful in everything, and in nothing. 

But that had caught his attention.

The idea of having a kid. 

You and him with a baby.

You kept sorting through what remained of the pile as your captain's thoughts trailed. He could imagine it clearly.

He’d always made sure you had everything you needed, never hesitating to spend stolen gold on you. 

But he’d give you everything. 

After all, who better to give you a baby than a doctor who loved you more than anyone had ever been loved before?

You, waking him up in the middle of the night to check on the baby. The crew teaching them how to speak and read. Bepo would probably have to be monitored around the baby- but only because he was stronger than he knew. 

Shachi and Penguin would make proper uncles, Law thought, and he was sure that, even if he didn’t, a baby could find amusement in the Straw Hats. 

He imagined the two of you cuddled at night during your hypothetical pregnancy. His cheeks warmed at the thought.

He’d do daily checkups on you, and no better care would be available. 

He was already months ahead of himself and decided that while he finished watching you get ready, he’d let himself imagine it. 

“Okay!” you applied a final lipstick touch-up, and softly adjusted your hair in the mirror, “Will you help me with this necklace? I’ll be back around 10.”

Law stood up, stretching his back before silently making his way over to you. 

“You mentioned us having a baby?”

You rolled your eyes and took hold of the hand he extended toward you. “If you’d like.”

He rested a hand on the small of your back and pulled you into his chest, your giggles flooding his ears.

“C’mere,” he beckoned you to follow him back towards the chair he just got out of. 

He pulled you down into his lap on top of him, locking his arms around your waist.

“Law,” you whined, “I’m gonna be late.”

“Of that,” he started, “I have no doubt.”

You squirmed in his grip trying to free yourself to no avail.

“Relax, sweetheart. 

You aren’t going anywhere tonight. 

We have a baby to make.”

shanks

0.9k words

“You look delicious, baby,” Shanks lightly slapped your ass and you swatted his hands away, picking up your pace to try and keep up with the running monkey ahead of you.

Luffy had wanted to go to the lake and Makino asked if you’d take him.

You had a certain fondness for him, he reminded you of your siblings when they were his age, restless and wild, so you readily agreed. 

“Luffy!” you called, “Luffy, slow down!”

Shanks laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

You pushed your hands against his chest- he was so damn touchy! 

“Shanks, please not now, we’re going to lose Luffy if we don’t catch up with him,” you said, starting to run after him. 

“Alright, alright,” he relented and the two of you ran together, laughing, after him. 

He was already setting up camp when you caught up with him- those stretchy limbs set you at a disadvantage- and was asking for his swim trunks. 

You set down a towel and placed the picnic basket on top of it, throwing Luffy his trunks.

Shanks sat down and pulled you on top of his lap, grabbing a beer in the process.

“What’s that?”

 The boy stood in front of you, one hand on his hips, the other up his nose, and pointed at the drink.

“Beer! Try it!”

“Shanks.”

Luffy reached for the can and you turned him around before he could grab it.

“Why don’t we go in the lake?”

“But Shanks told me if I try to swim all my hair will fall out and I’ll forget how to read.”

You turned to your boyfriend and shot him a disapproving look as he erupted into a fit of childish laughter.

“Well, you don’t know how to read anyway, so let’s go!”

You secured a pair of floaties onto his arms and ran with him to the water, followed by Shanks after he set down some rocks onto the towel so it wouldn’t fly away.

He picked you both up and geared up to throw you into the cold, clear waves. 

Both you and Luffy tightened your grip on the man after realizing what he was intending to do and created a tangle of arms and hands.

He still made the effort, though, and ended up getting thrown in along with both of you. 

You all came up laughing and gasping for air, and Shanks held Luffy as you swam, not wanting to risk anything by leaving him on his own in the water. 

After an hour or so of swimming and splashing and throwing water at each other, Luffy started to get tired and let go of Shanks, paddling towards you as best he could.

You grabbed him and he held on to you, wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

Shanks, who also seemed to have calmed down, smiled at you and made his way over. He kissed your cheek.

“I’m gonna go put him down for a nap. He’s so cute,” you said. 

Shanks nodded, not able to resist slapping your ass as you got out of the water. 

You set Luffy down on the blanket, laying down next to him. He was out cold. The warm heat of the sun covered your body and lulled you to sleep right next to Luffy. 

After another hour or so of swimming in the lake and looking for pretty rocks to give you, Shanks made his way towards the both of you, unable to control his smile as he saw you and Luffy asleep bundled up together, your arms wrapped around him.

He thought, for a moment, that he might just steal Luffy away and bring him on board the Red Force. But part of him wanted a baby that was truly yours and his, Luffy was wild and untamed, and Luffy had plenty of his own adventures and stories to live on his own. 

But he could see it so clearly, with how you worried about the kid and cared for him. You were protective and he knew that if anyone threatened or endangered Luffy with you around, they’d meet a grisly end. 

It warmed his heart in a way he’d never experienced. 

He wanted, not just to be a dad, but to make you a mother. 

He sat next to you both and watched, his heart full of contentment. 

“Mmm.. Shanks,” Luffy slowly started to wake up, “‘m hungry.”

“Want a sandwich buddy?”

He sat up, looking groggy, and nodded, rubbing his eyes.

Shanks handed him a sandwich from the picnic basket and rustled his hair. 

Luffy ate, asking Shanks about his maritime adventures, laughing at his stories. 

“Did Y/n bring juice?”

“She sure did! But you should try beer!”

Luffy eagerly nodded and Shanks stifled his laughter as best he could, you were going to kill him. 

You heard coughing and laughing and slowly blinked your eyes open, your brain muddled with sleep. 

Sitting up, you stretched out your limbs and turned toward all the noise.

Luffy had a beer in hand and was chugging it, you saw several other crushed cans littering the ground.

They were both laughing and Shanks looked like he had tears in his eyes. 

Shanks heard you stirring awake and shared a split second of panicked eye contact with you before grabbing Luffy and running before you could start yelling at him. 

You took a deep breath. 

“SHANKS!”

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.2: Robin's Boy

A.N: Life is kinda sucky right now with job hunting, surviving at my current job, the strains that come with being a caregiver to a family member while maintaining a long distance relationship and just dealing with mental and emotional self-care. So here's this, super late and not beta-read but at least I wrote it.

As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags and/or ask box.

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce's Edition), Part 3 (One of Us), Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies her dad loves without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her.

Seeing the declared dead Chief of Police step out of a sleek black, obviously-secret-government-bullshit car flanked by an agent she recognizes as one of Owens' lackeys from last July when they were making the rounds with Government funded medical care contingent on signing sketchy NDAs? Just par for the course at this point.

Steve's face when Eleven-Jane rushes into the not-dead Chief's arms and it turns into a whole 'Moment'? Said Chief's look of barely interested confusion followed by tired annoyance when Steve drags her in front of him, rambling about Starcourt and new additions to The Party and finally getting to meet 'My Hop'? Yeah, none of that surprises her either. She plays along for Steve, doesn't give Hopper any time to say anything that would take that happy smile off his face or get rid of the way he's practically glowing he's smiling bigger than she's ever seen directed at anyone other than the kids. Tries not to think about the way it makes something in her clench and crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce and bare fangs she didn't realize she had outside of a life and death situation. She introduces herself, maintains eye contact and drags Steve off as fast as she can to do something, anything, that will distract him from trying to catch up like the Byers clan is with the kids and assembled assorted monster fighters.

She's not surprised when she can't stop Steve from stepping up every time Hopper or Joyce or anyone with a badge says they need anything despite his own still healing wounds. She's not surprised when Hop takes it a step too far.

They're at the Hopper Cabin that is steadily becoming the Hopper-Byers Cottage when Hop tells his and Joyce's shared custody bald parasite that Steve is little more than an annoyance he puts up with for the free babysitting service and manual labor and cause he can go up against shit that would give anyone else nightmares while keeping the kids safe and mostly in-check. She's sitting with Eleven-Jane, sewing patches onto one of Hop's old army jackets, (the kid had seen Eddie's battle vest in Steve's car and it had reminded her of her sister Kali and she'd decided she wanted one of her own for the war ahead and then all of the other rugrats had decided they did too so she and Argyle had taken to giving sporadic sewing lessons whenever the kids had the materials to start their own battle attire) when Steve comes round the corner to the back of the property striding with purpose she rarely saw when he was around his kids.

She leaves her unfinished project on the stump she'd been using as a stool and chases after him. She shooes off curious and worried kids, promising to stick with him, keep the walkie close and on, make sure he was safe and didn't run afoul of any demo-beasts or trigger-happy government goons as he made his way to his car and then wherever else he was marching his happy ass.

She hates the fact that when they're both finally back at the little apartment that Owens' yes-men had acquired for Steve when Harrington Sr. decided to be an opportunist prick and kick Steve out for 'not taking care of the house' in the middle of the 'earthquake', that Steve hasn't shed a single tear. She hates that she's not surprised.

He doesn't say anything as he kicks off his Nikes and shuffles over to the 'second-hand' couch they'd gotten from Mrs. Henderson (Steve and Robin were both fully aware she'd just gotten it shortly before Spring break and was in no way in need of a new one so soon, but they both also knew better than to call her out on her kindness). He doesn't look up at her from his spot curled in amongst the throw pillows and blankets they'd been gifted by parents of various members of the party after Hopper and Owens' story that the two of them had saved the kids again from some freak incident like last year with Starcourt. She pulls out the thick quilt they had found in the latest donations bins when Hawkin's government supervised relief force started outsourcing for supplies and basic comforts. He stares at the wall where they'd hung an oversized corkboard dedicated to polaroids and photo booth strips and even some properly printed pictures of the little monster fighting family they'd put together.

She can't pull him out of this, no matter how much she may want to. There's some places his mind goes only Eleven-Jane would be able to reach and neither of them were going to put more on that girl's plate. So she puts on a Bruce Springsteen record she used to hate and curls up as close as she can to him through the quilt and pillows. Every now and then she gets up to get them both water, to grab some crackers to try and coax him into eating and to switch over to a new record or just flip the one on the player but she always comes back to her spot next to her Steve.

"Whatever he said to you, you know it's not true. Right? You're worth more than a dozen undead cops on a power trip." That gets an amused huff.

"Seriously Stevie, the kids adore you, I swear all the moms in Hawkins think you're the best thing since sliced bread and I don't know what I'd do without my personal chump. We're soulmates, remember? One of these days we're gonna mind meld like Spock and McCoy and we'll be unstoppable. I can't make it without my McCoy, Bones."

"I can't make it without you either, you hobgoblin. Thanks Bobby."

The next day is better. Steve is still a little quiet, a little droopy. But he's present and there's a simmering anger underneath his smile that Robin is proud to see him acknowledging but makes her worry about him as he ushers her into his car to drop her off on her rare lone shift at Family Video before he heads out to a quick 'consultation patrol' with some military special operatives to check out something weird by one of the new cracks.

No one had told any of the kids yet, about the cracks starting to spread out in smaller fissures like a slowly spreading infection. Hadn't thought it necessary with Steve and Nancy (both now legal adults and wasn't the government taking full advantage of that) there as a first line of communication while Joyce wrangled a restless Hop as he settles back in and heals and spars with Owens over payouts and government aide for the town and what the growing military presence was and wasn't allowed to do. With the parents occupied the kids had come together tighter than ever, focusing on their injured and recovering from the nightmare fuel that was their spring break. No one noticed.

She can't help the rant she falls into as they drive through checkpoints and past regular civilians being escorted through areas a little too close to a Gate for comfort. She goes on about how half of the soldiers act like Steve is just one of them and the other half treat him with the same cautious curiosity they do Eleven-Jane whenever she makes her way to the 'front lines' these days. She wants to get the weird boy-speak head nods too! Even Nancy gets them, especially when she's walking around with her sawed-off strapped to a jerry-rigged hip-holster. Robin has used Darlin' before, she's speed poured Molotov Cocktails to hand to soldier boys trying not to piss their pants as Steve and Nancy barked orders as they tried to down a demogorgon fresh from the Upside-Down. Where's her battlefield camaraderie?

It makes him laugh and shake his head fondly as he calls her crazy and weird with that soft smile on his face that makes her chest feel warm and fuzzy like her parents' hugs used to when she was 10 and crawled into their bed after having a nightmare. She doesn't tell him to be careful as they turn down onto Main street or to make sure he comes back in one piece as he rolls to a stop in front of the dark storefront. She starts on another tangent about him abandoning her to the drudgery of Capitalism as he gets to frolic in the woods with a bunch of burly men with their toys before he laughingly reaches over her to open her door to start pushing her out of the car. He smiles big and dopey as she practically spills onto the asphalt, still rambling away about neglectful soulmates and abuses of driving power with smatterings of claims that she'll take over his apartment if he dies and use his ashes as fertilizer for the plants he's taken to keeping on the fire-escape outside the living room window if he dares to leave her alone to babysit his hellions.

He shoots back a final, "Love you too Bobby!" before taking off towards where he's meeting the scientists and soldiers he's supposed to lead through Upside Down infected woods. As he leaves her standing on the sidewalk he doesn't make any sort of promise to be safe, to let the government goons just do their job, to make it back to her alive or in one piece. Not even to make it back to her. She plays with the locket she's taken to wearing that holds a curled up braid of hair shades darker than hers or anyone's in her family.

She doesn't watch his car to the end of the street like she might have before Spring Break, after their Starcourt 'adventure', instead she takes a deep breath and unlocks the dumb video store in this dumb town full of dumb people who don't know when to call it quits and just get the hell out of Dodge. She boots up the computer leaving it to warm up while she starts sorting through whatever mess the new shmucks Steve insisted they hire to cover what times the two of them couldn't because of the Arcade (which they had also gone and hired more staff for now that people weren't one tremor away from rioting in the streets) and Upside Down/ government related shenanigans they ended up getting dragged into.

The bell above the door jingles and she has to bite back a groan. "Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." She may have only heard his voice a couple of times and in passing but she didn't call her ears little geniuses for nothing. She forces her body to relax, lowering her shoulders the way Steve taught her to and keeping her voice light like Eddie walked her through, calling on his Theatre Kid skill set to teach the Party how to convincingly lie improvise when being questioned by people who really did not need to know just what was going on in good old Hawkins.

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She won't turn to face him, not sure she can keep her cool if she does right now. Her hands move on muscle memory, shuffling papers into their proper piles and flipping open VHS cases to check if they need to be rewound. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

She can hear him sigh and can't help but picture his hand running over the fuzz on his head the way Steve runs his hands through his coif more and more nowadays in a way he never did before Nancy, before he got pulled into this bullshit and Hopper was rumored to be the one signing his paperwork and taking responsibility for him when his parents didn't show up after an almost week long stay at the hospital. "Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here. To fix it."

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef and meatloaf covered in ketchup, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place she used to pet and give snacks to on her way to and from school make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies she and her dad used to stay up late watching together without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight by her bed for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her. Jim Hopper might have just done it.

She doesn't stop moving, doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of throwing her off. She fiddles with the sharp little knife she has tucked up her shirt sleeve in the little sheath she and Steve put together between shuffling papers, taps at the button on her vest hiding the mic attached to the walkie talkie that never leaves her pocket these days. When she finally turns to look at him she's not surprised by the thinness of his frame or the way his eyes and cheeks still look a little sunken in. She sees the tired father worried for his kids and his people and his town, angry at the government for their involvment and their stupidity that she had come to expect. She is not expecting the remorse, the fear, she sees looking back at her. She wonders for a moment what he sees when he looks at her, at any of the teens and kids and young adults he's fought alongside trying to stop the end of the world.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He looks mildly confused for a moment, meaning Joyce hadn't been passing along even the minimal information Nancy and Steve had been giving her to relay to Hop and the rest of the Party. That would have to be it's own discussion at some point probably. "-in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

"You care about Harringt- Steve. You're close, the two of you have been basically Siamese Twins since Starcourt from what I hear. I- I realize that I made a mistake dumb enough shitting Mike Wheeler is making more sense than me, that I fucked up in a way I don't fucking know how to fix. And I am asking. Politely. For your help."

Honestly she's not sure she believes him. Honestly he's surprised her more times in the last five minutes than most anything or anyone else has in the last year. The man has a lot to unpack and the situation with Steve is just a drop in the man's pile of shit he's managed to bury himself under but maybe there's some hope yet.

She checks the watch on her wrist (an obscenely expensive piece Steve got from one of his parents' rich friends at a holiday party he was too young to remember on a leather band that he had outgrown and never got around to replacing) and looks back at Hop. Ten more minutes. "Why are you here?"

Hop groans in that growly sort of way that makes her think of her grandpa Dale, a great bear of a man who had given the best hugs with shoulders to put Jim Hopper to shame. The no-longer-chief runs his hand over his fuzz again, one hand propped on his hip as he shifts his weight to one side and she tamps down the flicker of biting anger at another example of the ways Steve had shaped himself after a man who never gave him the respect or care he deserved.

"I don't know how to fix what I fucked up. Steve's a good kid, I can admit that now. And he didn't deserve my bullshit just cause I couldn't get past old highschool biases. I wasn't there for him like I should have been- like I told him I would be when I signed those papers. But he's not the kid I thought he was, he's nothing like his folks or the other trust fund brats who think they run this shithole town. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know that kid deserves better than I've been doing."

She hums like she's mulling over his little speech to hide the way she's freaking out a little over what to say to all that. Even she doesn't know how she and Steve got to where they are beyond being tortured by Russians for information they didn't have then being drugged out of their minds while fighting inter-dimensional flesh monsters. But she doesn't think that would help Hop much in this situation.

But she thinks she believes him. At least for now.

"Alright, I'll help you with Steve." Hop sighs, his shoulders dropping as he seems to unclench slightly. Seriously, that much tension cannot be good for him after being in a Russian gulag for almost a year. "But not because I think you deserve it. You were right, Steve deserves better, but he wants you and Joyce and the kids to be in his life. Be a part of it. That is the only reason I will help you. He deserves a better dad than the one he's had and for some reason he thinks you're like super-dad."

"I- How the fuck did I not- What the hell?"

Robin shrugs, "The human brain is good at weeding out what it doesn't want to see. You didn't want to see Steve until you had to and that realization brought you to me. So. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"So what do I do?"

She checks her watch again. "He'll be running late, especially if the fissure he's checking out is as bad as we think it is. So you have time to run back home, get Joyce to make extra of whatever monstrosity of a casserole she's trying to make this week and you get your rugrats to figure out a way to be the last drop off after Steve takes the brats to the arcade later instead of sleeping off whatever knocks he gets on patrol today. Then instead of letting him head home you make him come inside for dinner. Use the excuse of finding out he's been doing patrols if you have to. But you make him go inside and sit his ass down and eat something and you let him just- let him just be, Hop." She's running out of time but there is just so much she wants to get through to him. "Just make him feel like you see him."

"I- I'll try."

"Yeah, sure. Just-" She bites back the vitriol she wants to projectile vomit in his direction. "Just don't hurt him again. He's more than just a babysitter or front lines muscle. And I will make you wish you were back with the Russians if you make him forget that."

"I believe you."

"Good." The bell over the door jingles again and she looks past Hop to see a group of teenagers making their way to the comedies. "Now I have to get to work and you need to not be here by the time Steve comes to check on me. So talk to you later, Chief."

"Right. Thanks for your help, kid."

She shrugs him off as he turns to head out. The teens are watching him not-so-discreetly as they try to act like they're looking through the latest releases. She forgets that the man is as much a mystery as the heavy-duty military forces that have taken over their small town.

"Alright, folks. What are we looking for today?" She still technically has a job to do even if the kids keep their distance from her like they do the rest of the Party who at this point have all been seen either spending time with said heavy-duty military forces or chasing something into the dark of the forest wielding weapons smeared in monster blood, or both. It's going to be a long day.

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(if your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings

[muzansfangs]

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Shuhei Hisagi, Shinji Hirako, Ichimaru Gin, Shunsui Kyoraku;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings for this chapter: domestic dynamics, suggestive themes, language, fear of storms, denial, sexual tension, struggling with feelings, mention to unprotected sex, breeding, violence, injuries;

Plot: To ease off the tension between you two, you decide to take Sosuke out to buy himself clothes, a phone and anything else he may need during his permanence in the World of the livings. Visiting shops, you mark some lines and establish rules to make your forced cohabitation more pleasant. What a shame you keep on repeating yourself the umpteenth ‘kiss’ is just an accident not bound to happen again.

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐚.

After five hours spent in avoiding Sosuke, you had come to the conclusion you just had to put an end to this circus. The day had not started the way you had planned, but it was not too late to actually try to fix things. After all, your forced cohabitation had barely begun. If you did not confront him now, things would have decidedly degenerated in the near future. Before locking yourself up in your bedroom, you had caught a glimpse of him wandering through the living room and directing his attention to your library. At least, he was reading, not destroying your flat or the whole city. Still, you did not think he was still doing that. He was too quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

Therefore, stepping out of your nest, you made your way to the living room, only to be taken aback by the sight of him still sitting comfortably onto your sofa with his nose buried into a novel. You had definitely underestimated his capacity of maintaining a deep and constant concentration for hours. How stupid of you to forget he was built differently from common mortals. He was a self-proclaimed god, was he not? He had trascended reality, challenged the quintessence of the world.

Staring at him from the entrance to the living room, shoulder against the wall and arms against your chest, you also took notice that he had removed his eye-patch. Handsome, almost looking regal, he was already bewitching you again. You had almost forgotten how much his eyes had always affected you. His features, sharp yet gentle, made your stomach twist and turn for the war waging in your head between your morals and your lust for him. You had to keep your distance from him. It was not going to be easy, you were well-aware of that, but you had to try not to be stuck in the deadly web he was subtly sewing around you.

“Staring is rude. Hasn’t your father taught you that? Shame on me, I should not be surprised, if he has not. It’s Kurosaki Isshin, after all” Sosuke’s snarky remark brought back on Earth.

He was such a jerk at times.

You rolled your eyes, ambling towards the couch with an annoyed expression plastered over your face “As if I would waste my time staring at you. I was merely doing my job: checking on you. — you punctuated, the fact he had caught you red-handed upsetting you to no end — What are you reading, anyway?” you asked, plopping down onto the opposite side of your couch with a sigh. You had missed your forniture. As much as you loved the Soul Society, you had to admit the beds and sofas were not that comfortable.

“One of your books. I found it in the novels section, but I believe you misplaced it” Sosuke stated, flipping a page seemingly unbothered by your presence.

You quirked your eyebrows up, squinting to get a glimpse of the cover to read the title “Huh? That’s impossible, I personally make sure not a book is out of its genre. — you reasoned, scratching the back of your neck thoughtfully — What is it?” you asked then, only for your jaw to drop to the floor.

“It’s ‘Fifty shades of Grey’. That’s porn. Low quality porn, to be fair” Sosuke replied, before delicately closing the book and settling it down onto the coffee table in front of you.

Out of the vast collection of books you had, he had really picked up that one. You felt your cheeks boil, you eyes frantically averting from him to the volume under your nose, as you cleared your throat to utter out some excuses. Did you feel ashamed for owning something tagged as erotic? It was just a stupid book, a gift from Shinji to mess around with you.

“It was a gift and… It’s a novel, anyway. It’s just a little steamy” you stammed, avoiding his gaze at any cost.

“Oh, is that so? Interesting friends you have. Who was it from, if I may ask?” he inquired, propping his hand onto the palm of his hand, leaning forward to pull your gaze back on him. He did not even had to try to catch your attention. He always had it. As if you were strong enough to evade his magnetic gaze, though, you pretended not to be affected by those caramel eyes. Or his whole persona, to be fair.

“Why should I tell you?” you replied, grasping the book and standing back up to put it into its original place. You would have done anything in that very moment not to be forced to look at him.

“Oh, just to take note of who are your real friends and who merely wants to sleep in your bed” Sosuke cooed, causing you to flinch.

“Excuse me? None of my friends has such ambitions and, even if they did, this is not your business. I have already told you not to meddle into my life” you countered back, your voice taking a warning edge that seemed to amuse him.

Sosuke smiled, that subtle smile you viscerally hated “Are you so naive to believe men have pure intentions, when it comes down to a woman? — he questioned you, swiftly standing up as well and walking up to you slowly, the stately pace and elegance of a panther stalking down its prey — A friend doesn’t gift such scandalous books to a girl. Not unless he wants to send her a message” he explained his point of view, causing you to sigh in exasperation and clasp your hands together not to lash out at him. He apparently had no intention of dropping the topic and, above all, he was attempting to get you to talk. He wanted informations from you, this much was evident. But you were not going to tell him anything, especially given the altercations between him and Shinji. You did not really want your chaotic friend to go through more psychological trauma thanks to your new roomer.

“No, I’m not. — you started curtly, gaze hardening — In fact, I let you fuck me only because I agreed to sleep with you, not because I thought you were genuinely offering me a shoulder to cry on” you countered back, before glancing at the clock and realizing it was almost noon. Well, considering you had to help him settle down anyway, you could help yourself out of this conversation and tell him to follow you out of your flat.

As Sosuke stared down at you, seemingly resentful for your answer, you just walked towards the door and grasped your wallet and keys from the bowl at its left. You expected him to talk, say anything, but you were genuinely surprised when he silently followed you out of the door. It was irritating, so much that you had to be the one to break the ice after your snippy comment.

“Aren’t you even asking me where I am heading to and if you are allowed to come with me?” you asked him, locking the door behind you.

“Why should I bother questioning you? It’s not like I’m not going to follow you anywhere you go, love” he casually replied, unbuttoning the collar of his shirt absent-mindedly.

Love. Now he had started using nicknames. Where did it come from? Why was he burying the hatchet, even though you had just wounded his ego? You eyebrow twitched as you shoved your key into the pocket of your shorts, head whipping in his direction only to find him placidly smiling at you.

You sighed “Love? Really? Sosuke, cut the crap—“.

It happened too quickly for your brain to register it. One second you were staring daggers at him, the next one your back was flattened against the wall and his hand was clasped over your mouth to prevent you from talking. He was not upset, then again he did not seem to be irate. Reading him was hard, he was too imperturbable to be affected by human emotions. You looked at him wide-eyed, muffling noises of protests reverberating against his palm as he hushed you by raising the index of his free hand.

“Calm down. — he commenced, cocking his eyebrow up as he watched your features relax gradually, albeit your hands were still scrambling up in a pathetic attempt to tug his hand down and free your mouth — Did you forget what I have told your neighbour? We are supposed to act like a couple outside your flat. Can I remove my hand from your mouth, or are you going to keep up that stupid attitude of yours?” he asked you, watching your eyes grow round and then be reduced to two fissures.

He had a point. He always had a point and throwing hands in the corridor was not exactly a good idea, given your proximity to Mrs. Watanabe’s door. You were one hundred percent sure that hag was staring at you from the peephole, confident you were going to make a false step. Against your will, you nodded your head slowly and inhaled sharply before raising your hand to cup his cheek in your palm and sneering at him.

“Alright, we are on the same page about keeping a low profile. — you said lowly, through gritted teeth — But once we are back home, you will keep your hands for yourself” you clarified, before slowly and gently slipping out of his grasp.

Ignoring him never worked. Acting like a couple in public was probably the equivalent of letting the population of a small medieval town drag you to the village square and tie you up to a stick to burn you alive. Sosuke was going to be your excruciating death. The worst part of it was that you did not have the strength to run away from your feelings for too long. Not after chasing them away for years. You were tired.

But then, he made comments that got under your skin and you admonished yourself for having let yourself think he could have been a good match for you, if only he had not almost massacred your whole family and your friends.

“As you wish. — he replied, his presence looming over your frame from behind as you exited the building — Admittedly, I do not think you are going to last long without my attentions, darling”.

Yes, in times like that, you desired nothing more than kicking him twice in the guts and feed his genitalia to a crocodile at the zoo. Instead, though, you decided to keep your chin up and head towards the main shopping area of the city “Believe it or not, I have been living a relatively peaceful and satisfactory life until Shunsui appointed me to babysit you” you replied, an hint of pride in your voice as you hastily crossed the road not to be rolled over by a car you had failed to spot.

The driver’s insults pierced your ears as you did your best to ignore him and resumed your march. The man standing right at your left, however, was not going to let it go.

“Are you sure Shunsui appointed you to babysit me? Maybe you’re mistaken” he commented dryly, watching you roll your eyes and grasp him by his forearm roughly to pick up your paces and reach your destination faster. The less you spoke to him, the better. You had no time to bicker with him over such trivial matters, not when your stomach was protesting as well. You craved food and you knew a cheap place not too far from there, where you used to grab your lunch on your way back home from school.

Sosuke shot you a displeased glare, his hand gripping yours to stop you. His hooded brown chocolate eyes bored into yours, slender fingers slipping between your smaller ones to lock your hands and, factually, forcing you to halt. Your eyes met his once again, his lean frame making you feel so miserable once again as he tugged you closer to him, this time more carefully.

“Y/N” he spoke firmly, a warning for you to settle down and listen for once. In the middle of a crowded street, mere inches separating your bodies, you lost yourself into his gaze. It was not the first time it happened. You should have known better than trusting yourself around him.

Sosuke’s free hand skimmed over your arm, resting onto the top of your shoulder, goosebumps pattering your skin under his touch “I know no one respects me. Despite that, you once did. What did I do to be undeserving of your company?”.

You frowned, blinking to clear your own clouded mind “What? We live together now. Whether I like it or not, I’m stuck with you”.

“Don’t lie, Y/N. Your body is here, but your soul is desperately attempting to run away from me”.

His words rang in your head, a lump in your throat you could not swallow forming. You had not let your guard down, not since you had slept together, still he was capable of reading your mind. You clenched your jaw, sucking in deeper breath, as you shook your head.

“Get out of my head”.

“I don’t think I will. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever had the pleasure to be in” he replied, a faint grin crossing his lips as he shook his head and dipped his head down.

You were unable to talk back, his lips a magnet pulling you in, hypnotizing you, as you tightened your grip on his hand. No, you had to resist, you had to push him back, to block him out of your head. But a kid passing by ruthlessly bumped onto your back, your balance failing you as Sosuke caught you promptly in his arms and stole a brief kiss from you. Lips pressing against your soft ones for a few seconds, yet causing a turmoil of emotions into your stomach. You scrunched up your nose, feet finding their place back onto the cobblestone as he tentatively let go of you.

The moment you stepped back, hand reaching up to your mouth, you stared up at Sosuke stupefied only to notice he was smiling almost imperceptibly. He licked his lips, his tongue swiping out to brush over his bottom lip and a guttural hum reverberated through his chest.

“You’ve changed your chapstick” he commented, before hinting at the road with his chin and ambling towards the busy street leisurely, silently awaiting for you to join him.

And you did, you followed him, with your fingers still lingering right where his sinful lips had met yours. You reprimended yourself for having enjoyed it, but you refrained from shouting at him he had blatantly ignored one of the first rules you had set. It had been just a casuality. He was standing too close, that kid had the same grace of an elephant and the politeness of an ogre. It was not even a real kiss. Insignificant touches did not count, right? You really wished you could explain that to your heart too.

You soon found out Sosuke had a classy taste for expensive fabrics and brands. His charm even helped to get a discount, at times, and you were seething in rage. With the amount of money he had, that man did not someone to deduct such generous amount of moneys from the price. Right, he was filthy rich. You had literally goggled your eyes, when Shunsui had given you the access to Sosuke’s accounts. The Soul Society had made sure to change the local currency into Yen. You were genuinely surprised he had saved so much money from his days as a Captain.

“I can’t believe it…” you muttered under your breath, as you entered into your last shop for the day. You needed to buy him some boxers, but he had pushed you right into an Armani shop because he was not going to wear ‘cheap boxers’.

“Still upset I’m not broke?” he replied amusedly, as you two wandered through the shelves to look for the lingerie section.

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you picked up a pair of black boxers and showed them to him “I’m just surprised, that’s all. I mean, Shunsui is the Captain Commander and he’s not that wealthy” you spoke your mind, watching Sosuke examine the fabric absent-mindedly before looking at the size.

“He’s constantly dissipating his savings in women and saké. — he replied monotonously, before glancing at a point at your back with a sly expression on his face — I never had to pay for sex and I’m not an alcoholic”.

With that he handed you the boxers you had chosen for him and gestured at you for purchasing a couple of other ones too. You scoffed, his words pulling out a bitter chortle from you, as you whipped your head around and rummaged through the different assortments of boxers on the shelf. He was such a bastard. You did not even spare him a glance to check at what he was doing, as you walked up to the cashier and told her you had to pay for some articles.

However, on your way out of the shop, Sosuke was quick to catch up to you. You noticed he was holding a bag in his hand, something that made you arch your eyebrows “What is it?” you asked.

“Curiosity killed the cat, huh?”.

“You know what? Nevermind. I don’t even care”.

”Not even if it’s a little something to apologize for having offended you earlier?” he hazardously tempted you, causing your ears to prick up rizzare. Did he really buy something for you? Did he think he could get on your right side so easily?

You sighed “Really now? Why spending your money for me? It’s not like you really yearn to earn my forgiveness or something. This is surely one of your bluffs”.

“Ouch, you hurt my feelings. — Sosuke defended himself, the sky turning gradually purple above you two as you headed back towards your home — You’re a broken record. I never lied to you, I think I have abundantly made myself clear”.

He had, that was true, but you wished you could trust him blindly. You wished he was not the user of a deceitful zanpakuto, you wished he was not the man you had fallen for and tormented yourself not to love anymore. But above all, you truly wanted to erase those intimate moments you spent in his bed. Sosuke was a snake, a wizard, a bewitcher.

“It’s a nice gesture, Sosuke. But I am pretty sure you know that a simple gift will not make it up for everything you’ve done. I don’t think I can accept anything coming from you” you replied, only to be feel his hand cup your hip and pull you closer to him.

With his lips grazing the shell of your ear, you felt your breath hitch in your throat “Then, forgive my language, why did you accept my cock so easily? Further more, why did you let me breed you?” he whispered darkly.

The sound of a thunder rolling in the distance was all you needed to shove him off of you and run all the way down to your home. The warmth coiling in your lower abdomen, the irriration and rage blinding you when he got under your skin were something you could not control and it was driving you insane.

You did not want to die young. You did not want to die by the sword of a Captain, or a Lieutenant. Despite being the oldest of the team, and obviously not the weakest, you were not confident enough to wander down the mazy streets of the Seireitei. You had miraculously entered the walls without your brother and the rest of the gang, after escaping a tremendous fight with a Captain. The same Captain that had sent chills down your spine for his easygoing nature, but cold homicidal rage.

The same Captain that had almost cut your arm off of your shoudler. Hand pressing onto the wound, you were jogging down the streets, hoping no one recognized you. Some shinigamis did not pay much attentions to you, your uniform clearly confusing them.

But a guy with a tattoo over his face had been following you around for quite a while now. You had not even had the guts to look him straight in the eye, someone referring to him as ‘Lieutenant Hisagi’ had scared you off. You needed a shelter, you needed a place to heal your wounds and look for Rukia.

Your vision was getting blurry, though. Your limbs hurt and you eventually slumped down against a wall with a pained expression and the certainty you were going to die. Your eyes closed, a whimper leaving your lips, as you hoped no one found you like that. But a powerful spiritual pressure squashed you down onto the ground. Your wary eyes snapped open, a familiar face blessing your vision as a man with glasses knelt down in front of you.

The white haori, that reiatsu. He was a Captain. You were dead!

Your hand gripped your zanpakuto, swinging it towards him, as you coiled like a squirrel when he reached his hand out to touch your cheek. But he stopped you.

“I don’t want to hurt you”.

Curled up in a ball on your bed, you flinched at the sound of the umpteenth thunder exploding outside, the rain pattering against the window of your bedroom. You had not even eaten in Sosuke’s company, barely talking to him if not to inform him you were going to sleep. This happened around midnight. It was two o’ clock and you were restless, nervous and … Scared of storms.

You did not want to tell him about your weakness. You had been made fun of for it in the past and you were in no mood to argue anymore for the day. Probably a glass of water could calm you down. Or this is what you told yourself, whilst you walked barefoot in the dark corridor to reach the kitchen.

The door of his room was closed, your feet making no sound on your way back to your room. But a sudden thunder caused your grip on the glass to loosen and you watched helplessly as it made contact with the hard floor. Splinters of glass and a puddle of water littered the tiles and you let out a screech that caught the attention of your housemate.

Door creaking open, Sosuke leaned against the doorframe. No shirt, grey pants on and his chiseled abs in full display, he narrowed his eyes at you and the scene unfolding before his droopy eyes. You had never really seen him like that, partially disheveled, more human. He was not faking his sleep, at least.

“Sorry. Go back to sleep, I will clean up” you fretted, looking for a rag to wipe away the water and collect the shattered glass.

“Turn the lights on, at least. You’ll cut your feet like that” he tiredly observed, finger switching the lights on.

You were about to snap at him, ranting about how you were not a toddler and how you could perfectly take care of yourself, when you squirmed out in fear again and the thunder gave Sosuke the hint of what was happening right before his eyes. Trembling like a leaf, you stared at him like a soaked, scared kitten, his lips parting in disbelief.

You feared being judged.

“It’s pathetic, I know” you blurted out in defeat.

He did not reply immediately, merely glancing at his room behind him before stepping aside “Come inside” he offered.

You furrowed your brows, his offer sounding strangely soothing and you searched for his eyes to find some further infos about his intentions.

The shinigami sighed, folding his arms across his chest “I don’t want to hurt you”.

Those words again. This promise of not harming you, the way you found yourself entering his room in search for protection felt like a deja-vu. However, as you sat onto the edge of his bed and he joined you, grasping a black t-shirt from the desk and wearing it, you could tell he had no intention to fool you in any way.

“If you don’t want to sleep alone, you can stay here” Sosuke said, before lying down onto his back.

You felt your cheeks heat up, foreteeth sinking onto your bottom lip “It’s inappropriate and… I don’t understand why you’re doing it anyway”.

“We’re far beyond the ‘appropriate’ etiquette, don’t you think? — he bantered, watching you shift onto your seat and slowly lying down next to him, rolling onto your side to face the wall — Also, I don’t mind you sleeping next to me”.

You mentally cursed yourself for having accepted, but when his arm snaked around you, pulling your back against his body to spoon you, you felt safe. Not a single thunder scared you anymore that night, not as you fell asleep in his arms.

As selfish as he was though, Sosuke had his reasons for wanting you there. Since you two had slept next to each other, he had learnt to appreciate the company of a warm body next to his one, your body.

Maybe feeling was not as detrimental as he had always thought. Maybe you were worth the shot. Probably, you were the cure to his solitude.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi, there!

I honestly did not think so many people were going to be invested in this story. Thank you so much for showing appreciation to my work, it means a lot! Having said that, I have been looking forward to write this chapter. Whilst there will be other chapters in which Sosuke is going to be involved into mundane situations, shopping with his ‘so-called-girlfriend’ is something I really enjoyed picturing. Sorry for the late update! I promise you very spicy things in the next one. As for now, thank you so much for your feedback!

Love,

— Luce

TAGS: @pseudowho @seireiteihellbutterfly @onyxino @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01 @noirfan12 @velaenaa

[shares-a-vest]

Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)

wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares

Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling

Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!

“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.

“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.

Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.

... But not really.

Like, at all.

He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.

Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.

So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.

It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.

It’s just a shirt.

A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.

One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.

It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.

They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.

He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.

The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!

And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.

Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.

The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.

It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.

Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.

He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.

“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.

“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”

He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.

The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.

He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.

“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.

“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”

He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.

And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.

“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.

Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.

He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.

And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.

It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.

It’s perfect.

Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.

Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.

And kissed.

And kissed some more.

Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.

It’s just the he –

“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 

His eyes blow wide in an instant.

And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.

Steve loves him?

Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.

All because of one perfect t-shirt.

Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.

“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.

“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.

He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.

Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.

They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.

Like it is already worn in and loved.

He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.

But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.

“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.

He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.

Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.

He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.

But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.

“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”

“You do?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.

And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.

They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.

“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.

Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.

“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.

He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.

Relaxed.

Loved.

Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.

But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.

It’s good like this.

Calm. Warm.

Soft.

[dancingtotuyo]

14. in the cold light i live to love and adore you

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt and comfort, TLOU SPOILERS

Notes: To my beautiful beta readers @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @janaispunk, I adore you both with my whole, entire heart!

Words: 3931

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

The winter winds blow in with gusto, granting one of the coldest you’ve seen in Jackson yet. The ground freezes in October and it stays that way into the next year. Reports say you lose more patrolmen to cold than infected even with the uptick in sightings. The brutal winter is relentless, keeping its freezing claws in the world well into the new year. You think if Al Gore is still alive, he’d be happy to see this kind of freeze, but Jackson keeps turning despite it. 

Rachel Perkins organizes a play for the kids. Willa is assigned the part of a butterfly. She has all kinds of ideas for her costume, continuously searching for items to assemble it. Joel shapes some old wire into wings and you manage to wrap them with pink and purple scraps of fabric. 

Someone gifts Willa an old tutu that needs mending in about three different places, but it’s easy work. Except once her ensemble is put together, you have no success convincing her to wear anything but the wings and sparkly pink tutu requiring another two mending jobs. On the third straight day, her wings require readjusting after they got bent out of shape during a game of tag. 

A few people decide there should be a dance, so within a couple of days, the Tipsy Bison is packed with dancing bodies and music and life. Carter finds his friends in a quiet corner. Willa runs, weaving through the crowd in her butterfly costume despite numerous attempts to talk her out of it. 

“At least it makes her easy to spot.” Joel winks at your side, whiskey in his hand. 

“Finding Willa in a crowd has never been an issue.” You laugh, taking the glass from Joel. He smiles as you take a sip before handing it back to him. 

“No, I don’t suppose it has.” Joel laughs.

“There you two are. About time you showed up.” Tommy grins, walking toward you with Maria at his side.

Joel rolls his eyes but it’s all in good fun as he clasps hands with Tommy. 

“I see Willa is practicing for the recital,” Maria laughs, her eyes pinned to her niece. 

“Haven’t been able to get her to wear anything else,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I’ve already mended the damn tutu three times, it’s hanging on for dear life at this point.”

Joel chuckles, arm threading around your waist. “Can’t beat the smile on her face though.”

“I’m handing you the needle and thread next time she comes in with a tear.” You roll your eyes in playfulness. 

“Hey, I’ve fixed those wings several times now too.”

“Sounds like I need to send Elias’s pants over to your place,” Maria says. “I think every single pair needs patching.”

“I remember when Carter was in that phase. I gave up there for a while. Let him run around with holes. He didn’t seem to care.” 

“I’m about to resort to that.”

“Get Tommy to do it. He had to sew me up a couple times. Did a damn good job,” Joel grins. “You know that one scar.” He looks at you. 

You know it. It runs across the side of his torso, the scar so thin and faded, you thought it was from a surgery before the outbreak. You nod. 

“Tommy stitched that one.”

“Damn,” your eyes flicker to him. “I can hardly stitch someone up that nicely.”

“Luck,” Tommy shrugs. 

“Skill,” you correct. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Maria jabs her husband with her index finger. 

“Ow! Have not-“ Tommy says, but Joel is tugging you away from them before you can gather the rest of their argument. His deep chuckle settles in your ear.

“What are you doing?”

“Takin my woman for a spin on the dance floor. What does it look like?” He grins, guiding you into the sea of dancers in the middle of the floor. 

You suppose you should hate it when he calls you his “woman.” There was always something about it in the world before that felt derogatory, like men were trying to claim women as property, reducing them to a single component. It sounds cliche you know, but it’s not like that when Joel says it. 

You don’t have a title on your relationship. For you, to be called his in any capacity is an honor, just as he’s yours. Your partner, your co parent, your lover, all of those and more encompassed into the title “your man” and “his woman”

My Girl plays over the record player bringing a smile to your lips. The first of many songs you and Joel danced to both in the public eye and the quiet of your home.

He smiles down at you, eyes shining in deep, dark pools under the flicker of the lights strung from the rafters. You're drawn back to that first dance, the one you almost skipped out of but your feet carried to anyway. The way he held you. Kissed you, claimed you in front of Jackson without fear of the future even when you couldn’t do the same for him. Yet he stuck with you, waited for you

Moisture gathers in your eyes as you lay your head on his chest as he rocks back and forth. 

“I know, Sweetheart.” 

Your chest tightens with love for him. It’s not scary anymore. It hasn’t been for a long time. 

Willa runs into your legs, demanding a turn with Joel before the song is halfway over. You oblige as Joel picks her up. She laughs, arms tightening around his shoulders. You watch them from the sidelines, wishing you had a camera to capture the identical smiles on their faces, the curls that fall on their foreheads, Willa’s fairy wings, Joel’s broad shoulders. It’s a perfect moment. A slice of heaven on earth you think. 

Willa insists on a second song since they didn’t get a full one the first time. Carter dances a two step with you, his smile beaming the whole time as he masters the steps. Tommy pulls you out at some point- spinning you until you’re so dizzy you need to sit down. He finds it funny. 

The air buzzes with electricity throughout the whole night as you let your kids run around on their own accord in games of tag, sardines, hide and seek, and whatever else their brains concoct. 

It takes some time before Joel tracks you down again, pulling you away mid conversation with Rachel and Lindsey. He’s not the least bit remorseful. 

“You're in high demand tonight. I didn’t have another choice.” He winks at you as the music slows to a soft instrumental. 

“Did I protest?” 

He laughs, placing his lips firmly on yours. “I love you.”

You can’t help the smile that appears every time he says it. You settle against him, letting the soft music settle over your bones. “I love you too.”

You don’t speak for another minute, too wrapped up in him, listening to the steady thrum of his heart beating in time with yours. 

You catch Ellie and Dina on the dance floor together. There’s an extra reach in your smile. They’re out of your sight when Dina kisses Ellie. Then, Joel’s muscles tighten around you. 

Your brow furrows as your head lifts. “What is it?” 

Joel doesn’t respond, eyes locked straight ahead. You know that look and follow it straight to Ellie and Dina and Seth. Your stomach drops

Dina says something, a smile on her face before it fades and she walks away, Ellie’s hand in hers. 

“Remember next time there’s kids around,” Seth calls after them.

Joel tugs you behind him. You catch the vein in his neck popping out. He's ready to pounce, to protect Ellie at the first sight of danger. 

“Yeah cause you’re setting such a great example,” Dina retorts as she heads for the door. 

“Just what this town needs, another loud mouth dyke!” 

It cuts through the room like a knife, drawing others’ attention. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ellie spins on her heels, heading straight for Seth. Dina fights to hold her back, but it’s useless. 

“Hey!” Joel surges forward, pushing Seth backward. “Get the hell outta here!”

“Get your hands off of me!” Seth shouts back.

Maria and Tommy rush toward the commotion as Maria steps between the two men.

There’s a soft thud and the firm pressure of two small hands against the back of your thighs. You twist around, finding a mop of dark hair and eyes to match staring wide eyed at the scene unfolding before you. You run your hand over Willa’s head, encouraging her to keep behind you as Maria and Tommy usher Seth out of the Tipsy Bison. 

Then your eyes follow Joel. He’s not coming back toward you, but toward Ellie. You barely manage to keep the cringe at bay. Not here, you plead internally. 

“You alright, Kiddo?”  

“What is wrong with you?”

Some people have the decency to turn their heads, to act as if they aren’t listening in. Others just gawk, trying to glean any answers they can from the cold shoulder Ellie has given Joel over the last few years. 

“He had no right-”

“And you do?” Ellie asks, anger shaking her words. “I don’t need your fucking help, Joel.”

Joel’s eyes cut from hers, finding yours in the small crowd. You see the way it stings in his eyes, and then he looks away from you both as he slowly eases backward.

 “Right…” He says, so quiet you barely make it out as Joel turns away, walking out of the building on display for everyone to see. The door slams shut behind him, ushering in a cool gust of wind. 

Pairs of eyes flash to Ellie. Some find you. There are a few mumbles exchanged between people, but they quickly die down as the music turns up and people return to their own lives. Your eyes find Ellie’s as people begin to fill in the dance floor once more. She seems more vulnerable now, more like the young teen you remember. The one who put on a big front, but wore her emotions so clearly on her face. 

“Mommy?” Willa tugs at your shirt. “Why were Ellie and Daddy yelling at each other?”

You snap around, picking her up, the fairy wings she wears making it more difficult. “People fight sometimes.”

She seems to contemplate the words, her forehead crinkling with consternation, like she’s trying to remember all the fights she’s ever witnessed. It tips your lips upward. She looks so much like Joel when she does that. Sarah used to make a similar face. 

“You fight with Carter and Elias sometimes.”

She sighs exasperatedly, pushing her hair out of her face. She’s so much sass and thought wrapped into a tiny package. “Yeah, but they ‘noy me.”

You laugh this time, kissing her head. Ellie and Dina are gone when you look toward where they were. Willa yawns, laying her head on your shoulder. You suppose it’s time to go home anyway. 

You pull Carter away from a game of marbles happening in the corner much to his dismay, but he's all too proud to show you the new green one he won tonight on the way home. 

Joel sits on the front porch, cup of coffee steaming in his owl mug. He still uses the one you got him for his birthday, but try as you might, you can’t make the damn owl disappear. Nonetheless, it’s reassuring to find him in such a natural position after tonight. To find him waiting for you, for his family, to come home. Carter rushes ahead, eager to show off his new possession. Joel listens to him with rapt attention. 

Willa wiggles in your arms, sliding down to the ground and rushing for the front porch, no doubt jealous of the attention her older brother is receiving. Joel pulls her into his lap, eyes never diverting from Carter. It amazes you how easily it comes to him, balancing both of their needs for attention, making them feel so seen and loved at the same time. 

You hang out at the edge of the front porch, back resting against the railing simply observing. Joel glances up at you, offering a brief wink before he’s pulled back in by Carter. He lets it go on for a few minutes before reminding both children that it’s time to get ready for bed. 

A chorus of groans fills your porch. You push back a smile. It’s endearing tonight. It isn’t always. 

“Get it done and we’ll have time for a bedtime story,” Joel says. 

“And a song?” Willa asks. 

“Only if you’re snappy.” 

It’s a bold face lie and you both know it. All Willa has to do is ask, and Joel is humming opening measures, but it works nonetheless. Both kids are racing inside. He eases up, staking over to you. An arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer. His breath is warm across your face in the cold of the winter night. He kisses you, soft but possessive, like he needs to assure himself you’re still here. That you’re not going anywhere. 

“Wanna talk about it?” 

He shakes his head. “Later. We got kids to put to bed.”

He presses another kiss to your lips and then you’re both inside, ensconced in the bedtime routine. The four of you settle on the couch, a kid tucked into both of his sides, story book in hand. Reading glasses rest on Joel’s nose. Something you had admittedly teased him about. Old Man, you had called him more than once, but you like them.

Willa falls asleep before the last page. It doesn’t keep Joel from singing her a song when he tucks her into bed. His stripped version of Monday Morning drifts down the hallway HIs voice accompanied by Willa’s. Then he goes to Carter’s room. You catch a few words spoken between them, but can’t make them out. He sings to Carter. It makes you smile as you top off Joel’s coffee mug, the owl one. You hold the routine, the peace near. You doubt Carter has many bedtime serenades left before he decides he’s too old for them.  

When he comes out, Joel tucks his head into your neck. “Sit outside with me?”

“It’s freezing.”

“Please?” He kisses your neck softly. “I’ll keep you warm. Wrap you tight in a blanket. The wind ain’t bad tonight.” He tugs you closer and you sigh, knowing you’ve lost the fight already. 

“Fine, I’ll grab my jacket.”

You sit next to Joel on the porch swing as he plucks at the strings of his guitar, gleaning whatever body heat you can from him. His cup of coffee warms your hands. You turn the owl so it faces outward. The porch light casts a bluish hue over you. He still hasn’t said anything about tonight, hasn’t opened his mouth, but he continues pulling a melody from the instrument on his lap. 

You enjoy the moment for what it is. You take a single sip of his coffee, the substance bitter in your mouth as your eyes drift shut, head resting on Joel’s shoulder. There’s no pressure to say anything. You can just exist with each other in the freezing winter. It’s more than enough.

The guitar rings, but Joel stops playing, body easing forward. “Hey…” He says.

Your eyes open as he sets the guitar aside. Ellie stands at the opposing end of your porch, eyes focused on Joel. You sense their silent exchange, a long pause before either looks away. Ellie gives it another second before moving forward, resting her hands on the bannister. You immediately feel like an intruder. You’re not meant to be here for this. 

You lean over to Joel, kissing his cheek, handing him his mug without another word. You reach out, squeezing Ellie’s shoulder lightly as you pass by. She gives you a tight lipped smile. The front door clicks softly behind you, giving them their privacy,

Joel stands, cautiously joining her as the railing. 

“What’re you drinking?”

He lets out a little huff. “Coffee.”

Ellie watches him as she tries to think of her next words, formulating what she wants to say to him, what’s been building inside of her over the last several years. She’d held on to it for so long, and it’s all led her here. “Where’d you get that?”

“Those people who came through last week.” Another awkward pause. “A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but…” he pulls the mug to his lips. “It’s not bad.” 

Ellie looks out, studying her house across the street. Joel follows suit, allowing her to direct things. Let her take the lead, it rings in his head. Sounds like you even. 

Joel focuses on his coffee mug, The steam that rises and dances up toward the sky until it disappears in thin wisps never to be seen again. The fog of his breathing joins it from time to time, creating a new dance, intertwining with each other only to separate. 

“I had Seth under control.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And you need to stop harassing Jesse about my patrols.” She stands up straighter, looking at Joel as she gains her confidence back.

He nods, keeping his focus on his mug. “Okay.”

Ellie shuffles a bit, trying to decide if she’s going to leave it there or push. She expects more from Joel. She wants more from Joel. 

“Dina… is she your girlfriend?”

Ellie’s mind races. She shifts more thinking through her response. “No.” She shakes her head. Finally, Joel looks her way. Ellie’s eyes are all squinted up. “No, she- that was just one kiss. It doesn’t mean anything. She just- I don’t know why she did that.”

“But you do like her.”

Ellie takes a deep breath, trying to work through it all in her mind. She feels silly over it all. Looking away, she almost buries her head in her shoulder as tears well in her eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

Joel feels the fatherly instincts kicking in right away, “Look, I have no idea what that girl’s intentions are, but I do know that she would be lucky to have you.”

Ellie can barely get through his words, choking back the tears that form in her eyes. “You’re such an asshole.” It comes out almost like a whisper. 

“I’m not trying-”

“I was supposed to die in that hospital,” Ellie says, hand hitting the railing. “My life would have fucking mattered, but you took that from me!” She looks down at her feet, trying to reign in her emotions.

Joel says nothing, racking his brain for the right words to say. All this time, and they still didn’t exist, but he knows he wants to stop her pain.

Joel eases up, straightening his back. The mug settles atop the banister as he inhales deeply. “If somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment…” He thinks through his words, wonders if there's a better way to say it. “I would do it all over again.” He meets her eyes, determination set in his.

Ellie doesn’t move, just lets it sink in. Her face softs almost and then a flash of annoyance, acceptance maybe as he catches tears glistening in her brown eyes. She gives a slight nod, rocking back and forth, trying to figure out if she can actually do this. “Yeah…” The words are a tangle in her head, will and want at war with each other. “I just… I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.”

Joel eases back against the banister, feeling as if she’s slipping through his grasp again, as if he hadn’t known those words would keep her at bay, floating around his orbit but never in it. 

Ellie contemplates her words. She reconciles her feelings. She misses him too. “But… I would like to try.” Her face twists up as she fights the tears.

Moisture instantly pools in Joel’s eyes, emotions over taking him. He doesn’t like to show this side, he rarely does, but the relief that washes over his body is all consuming. He thought he’d lost her for good, and now here she is telling him she wants to try. She wants to forgive him. That’s enough for him, more than enough, and more than he deserves. 

Ellie lets out a long breath, tension easing from her body, like a weight was lifted, extracted from her. She feels lighter.

“I’d like that,” Joel says, getting caught up on the words. 

They both nod slightly, almost in unison, like they actually share genetics. 

“Okay,” Ellie says, almost like she doesn’t know where to go from here. She rocks back on her heels, catches Joel’s profile in the light. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yep.” 

Joel clears his throat as Ellie turns to leave. 

She’s at the bottom of the steps before he manages to pull it out. It’s not overly affectionate or loud, but it’s warm, solid. “I love you, Kiddo.”

She turns, surprised. There’s a brief uptick in her tightly drawn lips, but it’s a smile nonetheless. “You too, Old Timer.” 

You’re half asleep when Joe crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh, hand falling to his chest. “How’d it go?” you ask, eyes opening to mere slivers. 

Joel kisses your head. “Said she wants to try to forgive me.”

A sleepy smile finds your face. “Good.”

Joel chuckles, kissing your head. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

You smile. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

You let out a soft sigh, letting sleep take you under. 

Joel lays awake that night, staring up at the ceiling, hand tucked under his head. His body is weary from the night, the dance, is confrontation with Seth and Ellie. He feels the ache of his 63 years in his joints, his back, but nothing covers up the deep seeded contentness that settles over him. 

He turns his head to look at you, fast asleep on your side facing him. You’re not quite tucked into him, arms and legs pressing against him. The exchange of body heat beneath the sheets is enough to stave off the winter chill. His lips tip upward.

He’s happy, undeniably so. Here with you next to his side. With the knowledge that Ellie wants to forgive him. With His two other children sound asleep in their rooms, tucked into beds where they feel safe.  

He pulls his hand from under his head, tracing the soft lines of your face, the bow of your top lip with his fingertips. You bristle softly, like his touch tickles, but you don’t stir. Joel knows you’re out for the night. 

He kisses your cheek, takes your free hand in his and kisses your knuckles before placing it over his beating heart, your hand sandwiched between his chest and palm. He should go to sleep. He has an early patrol with Tommy in the morning, but his mind buzzes with a quiet joy, keeping his eyes wide open. So he lays there, intent on memorizing the sound of your soft breathing, the warmth of your hand on him, and all the other little moments that lead him to this place in time. 

It’s some time before sleep tugs him under, but his eyes flutter shut with you in his periphery, lulled to sleep with the assurance he’s where he’s supposed to be.  

Tag List: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

[demigod-shenanigans]

Valgrace fic idea #1 that I’m probably not going to write (feat. some minor-ish pipeyna)

Context: at the pride parade I went to someone gave me a folded note that said “give this to a person you think looks cute” and before I could really see/register what was happening they’d already dipped (strategy I also used to pass on the note lmao A+ way to give a compliment as a shy person and make someone’s day without actively hitting on them)

Anyway Piper and Leo are at their first pride together and Leo gets the note and uses the same strategy to pass it on to Jason and bolt

They don’t know each other at that point, Leo also didn’t feel like his flirting has actually worked very well for him lately so he’s like “eh I’ll just make this person’s day and move on with my life”

And then Piper pauses and stares at Jason and is like “hang on I think this is my comphet summer camp ex from last year”

So now she’s curious and wants to go say “hi” and Leo is sweating because what if the guy realizes he was the one who gave him the note

Piper tells him it’s fine she doesn’t necessarily have to say hi if Leo is too uncomfortable but at that point Jason’s already spotted her and drawn the same conclusion and is dragging Reyna over to them (Reyna gone at least once before and she’s carrying this huge ace flag and Jason just accompanied her as an ally because he didn’t know he was also queer at the time)

And Piper is there with her little sapphic flag sew-on patch and Jason has a gay flag painted on his cheek and they just look at each other and burst out laughing because “you too huh” and then just chat for a bit because “what are the chances” and kind of regretting the fact that they didn’t stay in contact after camp ended

And Leo thinks he’s gonna get away with the note but then Jason looks at him and goes “oh hang on you’re the one who gave me that note!” And Leo freezes and starts nervously chuckling all “yeah can we please not make a big deal out of that I just thought-”

But Jason goes on to say “I think you gave it to me by mistake since we didn’t even know each other. Don’t worry I didn’t open it, here I’ll give it back” and Leo is absolutely dying inside

But then Piper tells him to open it and Jason asks Leo if it’s okay for him to and then he does and his face splits into a huge grin and he says “I think I’ll give it back anyway”

And Piper bursts out laughing because “he did not have that much game when we were dating”

Anyway they exchange numbers. Jason invites Leo to grab some coffee (cocoa because Leo doesn’t like coffee) afterwards and Reyna and Piper look at each other all “I can’t believe they ditched us” but then they decide maybe they can go grab coffee too and actually maybe they’re not too mad about this :)

Piper gives Leo shit about the fact that he ditched her for her ex for years despite the fact that she got a girlfriend out of it

[grandlinedreams]

Hello!! Hope you’re well !! <3 if you’re still taking requests, can I request a cute scenario of reader who’s into crafts? Like she sews up shachi and penguin’s hats when they’re a little torn, she mends to the suits and makes patches for them time to time, and what law thinks of it? Would he want something too??? Would plushies that look like the heart pirate crew be scattered ???

Hope that’s not a weird idea, sending you good vibes and a good day !!

Oh, that's cute and not weird at all, no worries!! But i can absolutely do my best, I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!:fluff w a tiny pinch of angst, now i wanna find the materials to make mini Heart Pirates]

"Here's your hat back, Shachi."

Law watches from where he's slowly sipping his coffee, watching the redhead take the familiar cap back from you for inspection.

"Thanks, [name]. It looks good as new!"

You beam at the praise. "It was nothing, least I could do when it means so much to you."

Law's eyes drift over Shachi's hat. The hole that'd been torn into the dorsal fin is gone, previous damage unnoticeable as Shachi puts it on.

You'd fixed Penguin's hat the week before, mended something for Bepo before that, and for Hakugan the week before that ㅡ all within spare moments when you could find them, with a skill not born from a devil fruit.

No, your talent with needle and thread is your own. Sometimes Law wonders if you're ever tired of it ㅡ but when he asks, you shake your head.

"No, I don't mind. It's the least I can do, I think."

There's something sad to your tone as you say it, an undercurrent that makes Law frown and wonder what you mean by that.

ㅡ

"[Name]."

Law's call of your name makes you jolt, the case in your lap tipping to scatter the contents across the floor. Bobbins of every color wheel aimlessly, and you stare at the mess before you kneel to begin picking them up. "You startled me," you say, tone accusatory as you glance at Law. "Did you need something, captain?"

"My apologies." Law bends to pick up the few that have rolled to his feet before he hands them to you, fingers brushing yours. "I wanted to ask, ifㅡ" He catches a pop of color where you'd been sitting, and he blinks. "What is that?"

You follow his line of vision and tense. "Nothing!" You reach to hide it behind your back, and Law's eyes narrow.

"[Name]."

"It's nothing!" You scowl when Law lifts a hand. "Captain, don't you dareㅡ"

"Room. Shambles."

The item in your hand is replaced by a bobbin, and Law stares down at what you'd tried so hard to hide. It's made of soft fabric, tiny boiler suit carefully stitched ㅡ a small replica of Bepo.

"It's dumb," you say, voice small as you look anywhere but at your captain. "I know, but i had a bunch of space fabric so i...made mini versions of the crew. And...of you."

Law isn't sure how to react to the fact that there's currently a plush somewhere made in his likeness, but he still rubs his thumb over plush Bepo's forehead affectionately. "And you?"

"Hm?"

His eyes lock with yours. "Did you make one of yourself? You're part of the crew too, [Name]."

"Oh," you answer. "No, I didn't."

Law watches you, struggles with what to say to you that won't either make you both uncomfortable or breach the line of captain and crew member.

"Catch." He tosses plush Bepo to you gently, watches as you catch him before he continues. "Make sure to make one of yourself too, [Name]. You're important to this crew. And...to me."

You blink, toying with plush Bepo's arms. "Okay," you murmur. "I can do that." You watch as he moves to leave, what he'd originally come to ask you lost to the momentary embarrassment over his own words and feelings concerning you. "And captain?"

"Hm?"

"You're important to the crew too. And to me."

[webslingingslasher]

dude! first of all love the frat!peter stuff it makes me so happy. second i totally think trouble is still gobsmacked that she’s dating THE spider-man like i bet she can’t get enough of him in his suit just looking at him with it on like he’s some type of god. ahhhhhhh

'ah! you're wearing it!' you're hiding behind your hands, the image still makes everything inside you flutter.

'i am. wanna give me a kiss?' the casual acknowledgement is just that, you've seen him in the suit at least a dozen times now, but each time you still act giddy.

you're in front of him in a second, pressing up on your feet to meet his mouth. your words curled around his top lip, 'can i touch you?' it makes your boyfriend laugh. 'yes, you can touch me.'

your thumb runs down detailing, 'i'm always afraid i'm going to ruin it.' peter catches your hand to press a kiss on the back of your palm, 'not possible.'

whispered words, you trace his features. 'that's not true, i've seen you patch it up.'

'and what a mistake that was. you figured out i could sew and enlisted me to fix your halloween costume.'

'that's cause you love me.' you kiss him, an idea blossoms, peter can see it written all over your face when you pull back. 'can i try it on?' peter's lost for a second, 'try what on?'

your fingers pinch at the spandex covering his hip, 'the suit.' you've never asked, or shown interest, the idea makes peter step back. 'i don't know about that one, trouble.'

a pout comes out, 'please? i won't tell anyone or ask again.'

peter's hesitant, 'well, it's just made for me, you know?' meaning, it was created with only him wearing it in mind. 'and i can tell, you look yummy.'

'thanks, trouble.' you're waiting for him to say yes, he offers something else; his mask. 'you can put this on.' you're not about to refuse the offer, instead you hold the fabric hostage while you ask for more.

'and the suit?'

'it's dirty.'

'you cleaned it last week.'

'exactly. do you know how much grime it's seen since last week?'

'it'll be for like, two minutes.' peter's thinking about it, you have one last shot. 'please? it's like, one super benefit to dating you. i would feel like the most special girl in the entire universe.'

peter bites, 'the most special girl?'

you nod quick, 'the most.'

'and you'll never ask again?'

you shake your head just as fast, 'never.'

'alright. five minutes with the suit, i mean it.'

the exploding smile and a million thank you's with grabby hands at the spandex made him believe you truly felt like the most special girl in the universe.