#i should technically know better but i hate how stuck i feel

[axvwriter]

This is pointing out to me another element that I might relate to Kalim with but I hate that element thus I don’t like Kalim-

The idea that there’s a lot of basic things he may not know how to do but no one’s willing to teach him.

There’s things I want to know how to do but when I try to ask how to do it, the most common answer I get is “it wasn’t as easy to do back in my day”. So I guess I have to figure it out myself and I don’t even get to hear how they figured it out back then?!

The always happy act is something that interests me as a character trait, but I guess there’s a few too many upsettingly relatable things about Kalim that I rather ignore him.

Hearing the more analyzed and/or the more depth about Kalim’s character is something I feel like I need to hear or I’m going to keep trying to label him as annoying idiot.

Can we please talk about how tone deaf and horribly ableist a lot of Kalim's fandom characterisation is 😭

Like he's portrayed as a complete incompetent moron, an utterly useless idiot because... he doesn't get good grades or understand schoolwork, he misreads social cues/situations, he's happy all the time, and he can't do certain things by himself.

Wow

Why is it so hard to understand that your that your academic performance or understanding has nothing to do with how smart you are? And neither is your ability to read social situations. I don't even need to get started on not being able to do things yourself because that applies to so many disabilities and disabled people are thought of as stupid or useless or both.

And of course, there's the idea he's an utterly naive dumbwit who can't sense danger or has any worry about it. Have you. Have you not heard of... acting. Or trying to push the fear down. Which I think Kalim does.

He has literally talked about how people have tried to assassinate him. He has literally been poisoned. He has experienced that danger. He is afraid. He doesn't allow anyone but Jamil to make his food. That's a pretty good sign, considering he was, again, poisoned.

Leave Kalim alone please 😭

[chahnniesroom]

cross my heart

pairing: bang chan & female reader, hwang hyunjin & female reader

summary: chan has quickly become one of your closest friends at university. too bad his girlfriend, hayoon, has him wrapped around her little finger and she's determined to make your life miserable. hyunjin is just enjoying watching the drama unfold.

word count: 4.0k

tags/warnings: angst!!! hurt and maybe some comfort?, infidelity (not between the reader or chan/hyunjin), arguing, the relationships with the reader are more like friendships than dating (please let me know if you think there should be more tags/warnings)

a/n: totally thought this was going to be a short fic (like less than 1k words) but it blossomed into something more. i wanted to try something different with this fic but not sure if i pulled it off lol please be kind if you comment! i also did not to bother with honourifics so... you can pretend that chan, hyunjin, and y/n are all the same age 😅

read it on ao3 | masterlist

It's almost funny how quickly you and Chan become friends. 

You hadn't really been looking forward to taking a technical writing class, but it's one of the requirements to get your degree and at least the lecture is large enough that you won't have to do any in-class participation. When the professor announces that one of the very first assignments is going to be completed in random pairs, you're instantly nervous. It’s only after meeting Chan, who is easygoing yet studious, that you feel better.

Although the group assignment only takes a couple weeks to finish, you find yourself hanging out more and more. Chan has a natural way of writing, he's intelligent and efficient with his wording without sacrificing clarity. While you can eventually write something that’s fairly clear and concise, it takes a lot of effort and a lot of time so you're grateful to be working with Chan who doesn't struggle with tight timelines like you do.

The two of you grow close together, especially once you realise that you have a similar sense of humour and taste in music. It doesn't take long before technical writing is your favourite class. Chan always saves you a seat beside him, even though he has quite a few friends that are also taking this course. You’re not used to it at first, but you grow comfortable with the way that he leans over to make quips about whatever the professor is saying or pointing out if someone in the lecture hall is falling asleep. You sometimes bring him snacks and in exchange he brings you a drink.

The more you learn about Chan, the more you're convinced that he's perfect.

Well, apart from one thing.

The worst thing about Chan is his girlfriend. Jung Hayoon absolutely hates you and, behind Chan's back, never fails to make sure you know it too. While the two of you have never shared any courses, she regularly meets Chan after class is over and you've been invited to join them and some other friends for a meal or to study so you've interacted with her more than you want to.

You’re not quite sure what you've done to earn Hayoon's ire, but you can only guess that it's your blossoming friendship with Chan as she’s never seemed to care about you before you met him. She takes every opportunity to make backhanded compliments, pointed comments about how much or what you're eating, or loudly exclaiming when you have something stuck in your teeth. You try not to let it get to you, but you're always been a bit too sensitive.

You start declining offers to hang out with Chan and the rest of his friends after class, trying to ignore Chan's disappointment and Hayoon's smug smile every time that you make excuses.

Of course, she's sickly sweet around Chan, constantly hanging off his arm, batting her eyes at him, and trying to hold his attention. You can't really stand her obviously fake behaviour, but she makes Chan happy so you don't say anything negative about her when Chan's around.

You aren’t the type to keep up with school gossip, but even you know that Hayoon's track record is far from pristine. In fact, you were surprised to hear that someone as genuine and kind as Chan was in a relationship with someone like Hayoon.

—

The library isn't your favourite place to study, but partway through midterm season you're desperate for a change in scenery. You spend the better part of the day completing practice exams for the course you're the most worried about until you finally feel more confident. Satisfied with your progress and excited at the prospect of eating a proper meal rather than the snacks that have kept you going so far, you quickly pack up.

There aren't too many people in the library since it’s so close to the weekend, a lot of students have either finished all of their exams for the week or just given up studying. Maybe that's why your attention seems so drawn to the couple that you pass on the way to the door.

You don't mean to do anything other than quickly glance at them, but the familiarity of the girl catches your eye. The carefully styled hair and slim figure is a common combination to see at your university, but after weeks of trying to avoid her, there’s no mistaking Jung Hayoon.

And it's not Chan that she’s currently kissing.

You stumble away from them, but not before Hayoon looks up and spots you. Instead of panicking or stopping, she continues making out with the boy, maintaining eye contact with you. She even has the audacity to wink. You stare at her for a second, stunned, then bolt out of the building.

You're so flustered that you don't know what to do or where to go. You end up walking to the nearest bench and sitting down heavily in it.

You knew that you didn't like Hayoon, that she was two-faced and had likely cheated on past partners, but you hadn't expected to ever catch her in the act, especially while she was dating Chan. You couldn't fathom why anybody would want anything else when they had him and you had never been able to understand cheating in the first place.

You have to tell Chan, you decide. As much as you hate difficult conversations and it kills you to be the bringer of bad news, you know that you'd never be able to sleep at night if you tried to hide this from him. If you were in his position, you would prefer to know as soon as possible.

You call him as you start heading in the direction of his dorm.

“Hey,” Chan picks up after only a few rings. “Is everything okay? You don't usually call.”

“Uhm-” You have no clue what to say, you didn't think this through enough before dialling. “Where are you? I- Can I come talk to you?”

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Chan's instantly concerned.

“Nothing, I just- I really need to talk to someone right now,” you say quickly. “I'm fine, I mean.”

“Okay. I'm at home right now, but I can come meet you if you need? Where are you?”

“Don't worry about it, I'll head over, if that's okay.”

“Sure,” Chan says, sounding extremely worried. “Be safe, Y/n. I'll see you soon.”

After you hang up, you don't quite run to Chan's place, but you're out of breath and sweaty by the time you make it. You take a moment to compose yourself before requesting access into the building, but you know you still look frazzled. Chan buzzes you in immediately and he’s waiting in the hallway when you step out of the elevator. He guides you into his room, but only after checking you over and making sure that you're physically okay.

“Y/n, you're scaring me,” he says after leading both of you to sit down at his tiny kitchen table. “Tell me what's got you so worked up.”

“Do you know where Hayoon is today?” you ask, probably sounding insane. Chan pauses for a moment, brow furrowed before he responds.

“I know that she has an exam tomorrow, so I assume that she's studying. Why, what's up?”

“She didn't say where or who she was going to be with today?”

“No, but it's not like I'm tracking her all the time. She's her own person, she's not obligated to constantly update me.”

“I saw her at the library.”

“Okay,” Chan says slowly.

“She was with someone else, a guy.”

“Why are you telling me this, Y/n?” Chan asks, starting to sound annoyed. His tone catches you off guard.  “This is why you called me, why you ran over to my place? If you think I'm that controlling-”

“They were kissing,” you interrupt. “She’s cheating on you, Chan.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I- I didn't see him well, his back was towards me so I couldn't recognize him,” you falter.

“Did you take a picture? Was there anyone else around?”

“No- but, I-”

“So I'm just supposed to believe you,” he says flatly.

“What? Why would I make this up?”

“I know that, for some reason, you don’t like Hayoon.” Chan's usually friendly voice is cold and his face is stony. “I can live with that. I mean, of course it would be nice if you were at least civil to her. But at the end of the day, you don’t have to, she’s my girlfriend and not yours.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “but how would lying about this benefit me at all?”

“She warned me about this, you know. She said you were jealous. Of her. Of us. That you would do something to try and break us up.” Chan laughs, but the sound is empty. “I always defended you, which she hated. I don't know how many times I told her that you weren't like that, that there was nothing going on between us.”

“Well I can assure you that I’m not jealous. That I’m not trying to break you two up.”

“I know that there’s… chemistry between us,” Chan acknowledges. “I don't have that many close female friends and I didn't before I started dating Hayoon either, but I know that I like your company and that you're easy to talk to. But that's all. It's fine if you're interested in me, you can’t help your feelings, but accusing my girlfriend of cheating? That’s sick, Y/n.”

“Are you kidding me? There is nothing going on between us.” you say incredulously. “Listen Chan, I’m saying this, I'm here as a friend. You think I'm lying? You think I want to hurt you?”

“I think that maybe Hayoon had a point when she said you wouldn't be satisfied with just being friends.”

“That's what you think of me?” you ask, feeling hurt. “Even if I was interested, I wouldn't do that. I respect you as a friend, I respect you as a person, and I respect your relationship whether I like your partner or not. But if that’s how you see me, I’m not sure that we were ever really friends. I would never try to sabotage you or anybody that's happily in a relationship.” Chan's face drops at your words.

“Y/n-” he starts to say, but you've had enough of this conversation.

“Look- I came here because I knew I would feel terrible and guilty if I didn't, but I can't convince you of something you don't want to believe.” You shake your head and walk towards the door.

Chan doesn't try to stop you as you leave.

 —

The next day you get to class 15 minutes before it’s supposed to start. You're exhausted, have your eyes swollen from crying when you got back home last night, and most of all, feel hurt. You had been a little worried about how Chan would react to what you had to tell him, but you never expected that he would dismiss you without a thought. It's hard to reconcile with the upbeat and kind seatmate that you're used to.

Instead of your usual seat near the middle of the classroom, you opt for one off to the side that’s often emptier, not wanting to have to talk to or even see Chan. You pull up an assignment that you’ve been procrastinating working on and manage to ignore the rest of your classmates as they filter into the lecture hall. It’s only when someone slides into the seat right next to you that you look up, surprised anybody would approach you when you’re clearly being unsociable and look awful.

“Hyunjin.” You’re too shocked to even say hello.

“That’s my name,” Hyunjin replies, looking unimpressed by your greeting as he pulls out his laptop. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Sorry, good morning. You don’t usually sit with me.” You can’t help but point out the obvious. 

In fact, Hyunjin usually doesn't sit with anyone. He's popular, it'd be hard not to be when you look as good as he does, but it's in a different way than Chan. While Chan seems to know practically everybody on campus, Hyunjin is almost untouchable.

While there are hoards of girls and guys that would love to have even a sliver of his attention, Hyunjin has a small circle of friends and is more interested in escaping the lecture hall to paint or dance than socialise. The only reason that you know him is because one of your closest childhood friends, Minho, is on the same dance crew as him and the three of you sometimes hang out. You wouldn't say that Hyunjin is more than an acquaintance though, he still intimidates you enough that you never would have tried to approach him first.

“And you don’t usually sit over here.” Hyunjin pretends to stretch and turns to look at your usual spot. “Avoiding someone?”

“Maybe.” You blush, embarrassed to be so easily seen through. “Is it that noticeable?”

“Nah, I just figured it was a matter of time before Hayoon got under your skin enough. I'm actually impressed you lasted this long, she really has it out for you.” While Hyunjin is surprisingly perceptive, you've also spent a fair bit of time ranting about Hayoon to Minho, and as a result, Hyunjin is kept up to speed on everything that Hayoon has done to antagonise you. You never realised that he actually paid enough attention to remember or that he agreed that Hayoon treated you like dirt.

“Actually, she’s not the one that I don’t want to talk to. Well, I never want to talk to her, but I’m not avoiding her.”

“No way,” Hyunjin crowds into your personal space, eyebrows raised dramatically. “Chan?”

You’ve had a pit in your stomach since last night’s argument and your mouth dries up at the thought of being so vulnerable, but something about the way that Hyunjin's eyes have widened to the size of dinner plates and his mouth has formed a little shocked ‘o�� is so disarming. 

“We had a disagreement last night,” you admit.

“Hayoon cheated?” he guesses.

Now it's your turn for your mouth to drop open in shock.

“Don't say it so loud,” you hiss. “How did you know?”

“Well, as much as I usually like to give people the benefit of the doubt, especially for something this serious…” Hyunjin grimaces slightly. “I’ve been kind of expecting it. Hasn't she done the same on her past three or four boyfriends?”

“Oof, that bad? I've heard some things, but never really knew for sure.”

“At least,” Hyunjin confirms. “Honestly, I'd be more shocked if she didn't cheat at this point. I'm guessing Chan didn't take it so well if you're upset with him.”

“He's loyal to a fault, literally!” you complain. “In his eyes, Hayoon can’t do anything wrong, he's able to explain away everything she does. He didn’t believe that it was her that I saw.”

“So what are you going to do?” Hyunjin asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you say sullenly. “As much as I'd like to shake some sense into him, he's an adult. He can make his own decisions and if he wants to live in denial, that's up to him.”

“You're a good friend.” Hyunjin reaches out tentatively and after an awkward second, pats your shoulder. “Not everyone would be brave enough to have that kind of difficult conversation. Chan may be stubborn right now, but he'll appreciate it later.”

“Well based on yesterday, I don't think I'm his friend at all,” you huff. “Anyway, if it's okay with you, I don't think that I will make it through the rest of the term if I have to sit over there.”

“Be my guest.” Hyunjin grins and the sight of it makes the lecture a bit easier to sit through.

—

You don’t talk to Chan for the rest of the term. While you stopped outright avoiding him, you’re pretty sure that he’s purposely steering clear of you. Instead, you continue to sit with Hyunjin and pretend that Chan doesn’t exist.

It feels silly that you miss him or that you can’t seem to get over how things ended between the two of you. You had only been friends for two months, you shouldn’t be so hurt every time he purposely turns away from you or when his eyes seem to slide over you like you’re not there.

Hyunjin basically becomes your part-time therapist. Most of the time, it’s enough that he keeps you distracted. He shares all the latest campus gossip with you, allows you to work while he paints, and invites you to hang out with Minho and the rest of their dance crew more than a few times. On the rare occasion when you’re feeling more fragile than usual, he would be willing to spend an evening at your place and listen to you wallow.

“It’s fair that you’re still upset,” he had comforted you once. You had run into Hayoon in the bathroom that afternoon and she had gloated about how nothing and nobody would be able to break her and Chan apart. It had made you feel sick to the stomach. “There was never any resolution. Chan didn’t believe you, doesn’t believe you, even though you went to him with good intentions and it’s reasonable that you would feel hurt or frustrated.”

“I feel so stupid,” you had sniffled. “It’s not even like it was a break up. We were just friends.”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, you’re still missing someone who used to be in your life. It’ll get easier next term when you don’t share a class, I promise.” Somehow, that actually had made you feel better.

“Thanks, Hyunjin,” you had said with a watery smile.

The two of you work out well together, not just because you enjoy each other’s presence, but also because there’s no expectations or pressure. Hyunjin has slowly started to share with you stories about his previous relationships, how he’s hesitant to start dating again after having his heart broken so many times. Even though there are rumours swirling about the two of you, you know that neither of you are ready for it yet and that’s partly why it's so easy to hang out with him.

Tonight, the two of you are just hanging out in his art studio. You're mindlessly scrolling on your phone, you’ve just finished the exam that you've been dreading the most and don't have the brain capacity to even think about school. You know that Hyunjin is doing the same, you can see it out of the corner of your eye, but he's trying to pretend that he's working since his painting is due the next day.

He drops all pretences when he gasps loudly at something that he sees on his phone.

“Y/n,” he says gravely.

“What?” you ask, only slightly curious. By now, you've gotten used to the fact that Hyunjin would react the same way to seeing a cute puppy video as he would finding out about some terrible news.

“A friend just texted me,” he says, still in shock.

“Okay? What did they say?”

Hyunjin looks up at you for a moment, down at his phone, then back up at you.

“ChanandHayoonbrokeup,” he says in a rush, before wincing, clearly afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“What?” You can't believe your ears.

“Chan and Hayoon, apparently they broke up this afternoon. Someone heard them shouting at each other.”

You put down your pencil slowly, not sure what to think.

“Do you know why?”

“Someone said that they heard that yesterday, Heeyeon and Yikyung broke up because Yikyung cheated on her. I think it must be related,” Hyunjin says quietly.

“Oh.”

“I think there's pictures or a video out there, I haven't seen anything yet though,” Hyunjin continues on, starting to get excited while typing away on his phone. 

“Oh,” you say again, at a loss for actual words.

“Right before the holidays too, that's so-” Hyunjin cuts himself off when he looks up and sees you frozen in place. “Y/n, are you okay? Sorry, I'm sure it's a lot to process-”

“No, it's fine.” You force a smile. “I just- I think I have to go home now.”

“Y/n-”

“Really, it's okay. I just forgot that I have something to do. At home. Sorry.”

Hyunjin stares at you with eyes filled with something akin to pity, but doesn't say anything else. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly grab your things and leave.

—

A few days later you're packing up your bags in preparation to go home for the winter break when you hear a knock at your door. You weren't expecting anybody, but there's a few friends that you have that like to show up unannounced. 

You're not prepared to open the door and find Chan standing behind it.

He looks terrible. He's wearing a huge hoodie and his hair is tucked away behind a beanie, but nothing can hide the way that his eyes are swollen and his skin is lacking its usual colour. You can only guess that he hasn't been able to eat or sleep much judging from the gauntness of his face and dark circles.

“Chan,” you say carefully. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice. “I was wrong.”

“Ah, Hayoon.”

“You heard?” he asks, face crumpling a little at the mention of his ex.

“It's-” You pause for a moment, trying to figure out how to put it delicately. "Someone mentioned it to me.”

“You must hate me.” Chan laughs humourlessly. “I know that I do. I was such a fool for not trusting you. I just didn't want to believe that she would do that to me. Stupid, I know. I'm really sorry that I said all those things to you, that I avoided you as if that would change the truth.”

For months, you've been waiting, hoping that Chan would come back to you and apologise. But actually hearing it isn't as satisfying as you thought. In fact, you don't really feel anything at all.

“I want to make it up to you,” Chan says earnestly. “Are you free? We can go for a meal and catch up. I missed you.”

“Uhm,” you say, not quite sure how to respond. You don't want to say yes, but you're scared to lose this opportunity.

“Actually, she's busy,” Hyunjin says. He steps out from behind Chan and wraps an arm around your waist possessively, nudging you behind him in the process. “I think it would be best if you leave.”

Normally you hate it when other people talk for you, but right now you're grateful that Hyunjin appeared. You're not even sure why he's here, although you mentioned that this was your last day on campus, the two of you didn't have plans to hang out.

“Oh.” Chan falters. “Are you two… together?”

“And if we are?” Hyunjin asks challengingly. You've never seen him this defensive before. “Frankly, it's none of your business. I'm tired of listening to your half-hearted apologies that are months too late and I'm pretty sure that Y/n isn't interested in them either.”

“Y/n?” Chan pleads.

“Hyunjin's right, I think that you should go,” you say from where you're still hidden behind Hyunjin. You're glad that you don't have to look him in the eyes. “I can't- I'm heading home today. I have to pack before my train leaves this afternoon.”

“Right,” Chan says thickly. “Sorry. I- I'm sorry, Y/n.”

You lean into Hyunjin's back for support, squeezing your eyes shut as you hear Chan's footsteps trail away. You don't open them for a long time, even when you feel Hyunjin turn around and wrap his arms around you. Instead, you just focus on the steady thump of Hyunjin's heartbeat and try to remember how to breathe.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[slut4thebroken]

Erotomania pt. 2

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader

Summary | Jon isn’t adjusting as well as you thought he would and his behavior finally breaks you.

Warnings | Angst, violence (on accident lol), blood, eating disorder? (technically), slow burn, a lil bit of sexual tension, he’s still really mean, and a little whiny lol.

Words | 4.3 k

Notes | Ty for everyone who helped me out w this lol.

Ao3 link | <3

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gif: @kittenonpluto

Part 1

The following morning, you woke up to your alarm and immediately turned it off. Your head hurt, your eyes felt puffy, and you were just so tired and drained. So you decided to call off work. As you were trying to fall back asleep, you almost didn’t register the sound of your door opening because of how tired you were. 

“You’re going to be late.” You whined and buried your face in the pillow. 

“I’m not going.” You mumbled. 

“Get up. I don’t want to be stuck with you the entire day.” He said sternly, bringing back all the emotions you were feeling last night. 

“I’ll stay in here then. I don’t exactly feel like doing much else besides this.” The bitterness in your tone was mostly overshadowed by the sadness you were desperately trying to hide. You waited for his response, but after a while, he just slammed the door shut. 

True to your word, you mostly stayed in your room. You left to go to the bathroom and sometimes get food, but you didn’t eat with him. The day was spent reading, doing some work to make up for missing a day, trying to distract yourself so you didn’t make yourself cry, and moping. Every time you went out he was always in the exact same spot. Before dinner, you showered and changed into some clean pajamas, not wanting to physically feel the same way you felt mentally. 

“Have you eaten today?” He almost seemed startled by your voice. “If you tell me what you want, I can try to make it.” You said softly. He didn’t respond or look at you and you sighed before continuing. “Why aren’t you eating?” You were quickly growing frustrated with his behavior. 

“You’re the psychologist, you tell me.” Deep down you knew why, especially based on his words yesterday, but you were still hoping it would be because of some kind of temporary hunger strike or something instead. 

“You’d really rather die than be here with me?” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke. 

“Yes.” He spat and you immediately frowned as your bottom lip trembled. 

“Fine.” You grabbed a carving knife from the knife stand and stormed over to him, making him quickly stand up and take a step away from you. Once you were a few feet from him, you tossed the knife onto the ground in front of him. “Do it then. If this is so terrible and you hate me so much then just fucking do it.” He stared at the knife and you waited impatiently. 

“Or better yet, kill me.” That made him look up again. “I know you want to— and I can’t fucking take this anymore so just do it.” He stared at you, then narrowed his eyes. 

“Are you serious? My rejection is making you suicidal?” He scoffed. Your eyes burned with tears and you rushed forward, making him step back, but you reached for the knife on the floor instead of him. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Now that it’s in your hand, you don’t know how you should do it— The carotid should hopefully be quick. When you raised the knife, he rushed forward and grabbed your arm, yanking it away from you. 

“Stop!” You cried, pulling back against his hold, trying to wrench yourself free. 

“Are you fucking crazy?” He asked, beginning to raise his voice now. His grip on your arm tightened as his other hand tried to take the knife from you. When you let out a choked sob and started crying, your arm went slack and the force of him pulling it away from yourself made your hand fly toward him. He couldn’t stop it before the blade sliced the top of his chest, making you gasp as he winced. He released you and staggered back, and you dropped the knife as if it had burned you. 

“Oh god— fuck. Are you okay?” His hand was pressed tight to the wound so you couldn’t see how bad it was but the pain on his face was evident. When you moved toward him, he stepped back again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Even through the pain, his tone was still incredibly harsh. 

“I- I’m sorry. It was an accident.” You took another tentative step and he did the same, but his back met the wall. He leaned his weight against it and took a deep breath as his eyes fluttered shut. You quickly wiped your tears and tried to calm down long enough to think of what to do. 

As you examined him, you noticed the blood seeping through his fingers as his arm grew tired holding his hand tightly against the wound. You also noticed how pale and sweaty he got in that short amount of time. He was putting as much of his weight on the wall as he could now. 

Deciding to start with the imperative, you moved closer until you were in front of him and removed his hand to look at the wound, then put pressure on it. It wasn’t… that bad— it wouldn’t need stitches, but it still almost made you gag. He winced and opened his eyes as if to make sure he wasn’t just imagining you daring to come this close. 

“Get the fuck.. off…” His words slurred together and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open. When his knees buckled, you tried to hide your distress, but that and the blood seeping through your fingers made it almost impossible to do so. 

“Okay.. okay, hang on.” You looked around for something to absorb the bleeding but there was nothing nearby other than a blanket that you haven’t washed recently. Tentatively releasing him, making sure he wouldn’t fall, you took your shirt off— feeling incredibly grateful that you decided to wear a bra— and pushed it against the wound. He let out a pained groan and your heart panged, knowing you were only worsening his suffering. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to press hard though.” He didn’t respond and just started sliding down the wall as his eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck.. fall on the couch, fall on the couch,” You held him up and guided him to the couch just as he lost consciousness. 

You could feel his chest moving under your hands so you knew he wasn’t dead, you were just worried about how to solve the malnutrition issue while he was unconscious. It’s not like you have an IV… so you’ll just have to wait until he’s awake. 

Lifting your shirt from his chest, you checked on the bleeding— it was definitely less, but it was still bleeding a decent amount. So you continued pushing down on it. While you waited, you let out a heavy breath and closed your eyes. That escalated so quickly, it felt like you’d been holding your breath since you picked up the knife. 

After a few minutes you checked again and decided it would be okay for you to run to the bathroom to grab a few things as well as some water and painkillers really quickly. When you returned, you kneeled on the couch next to him and tried to lift up the shirt he was wearing. Since it was yours, it was already a little tight on him, so it barely moved, especially because his back was against the couch. 

Minding the gash, you carefully took both sides of the now cut fabric and pulled as hard as you could. It ripped a lot easier than you were expecting though and was now torn from the collar to the bottom hem. You cleared your throat and tried to keep your eyes on the wound, but couldn’t help it when your eyes strayed to the exposed skin. You could distinctly see the outline of his sternum and ribs and you stifled a gasp as you pushed the shirt open more— no wonder he passed out, he looks like he hasn’t eaten in weeks. 

The sight of blood trailing down his chest snapped you out of your trance and you made quick work of using the damp washcloth to clean as much of the blood off as you could. When he wakes up, you’ll have him go to the bathroom so he can wash with soap and water, but for now you covered it with the largest bandaid you had, then sagged back into the couch with a heavy breath, just needing a second to calm down. 

After what felt like hours but was only about 15 minutes, he woke up with a groan. You grabbed the water bottle and took out three pills, having them ready for him. His eyes fluttered open, squinting at the bright light, and he scowled when he saw you next to him. 

“Take this.” You held it out to him and he looked down at his chest, then let his head fall back into the couch again as his eyes closed. “Please take it. It’ll help with the pain.”

“How did I get here?” He rasped, voice strained. 

“You passed out and I wanted you to fall here instead of the floor.” You wanted to reprimand him for not eating but you knew now wasn’t the time. It almost seemed like he wasn’t taking the painkillers out of spite, but after a moment, he huffed and held his hand out. You handed everything to him and he only drank enough water to take the pills. 

“You have to drink it. The whole reason you passed out is because of how malnourished you are.” You urged gently. 

“The whole reason I passed out is because you stabbed me.” 

“Jon, please just drink it.” You said, exacerbated. All he did was glare at you so you let out a disappointed sigh and stood up to go to the kitchen. He didn’t say anything as you started pulling things out and cooking. You weren’t exactly sure what the best option would be for malnutrition and blood loss, but you figured something with high protein and iron would be a good start. 

When you walked back over with a plate of grilled chicken breast and steamed spinach, he raised his brows as you held it out to him. You were pleased to see that while you were busy, he did drink some of the water. 

“What?” He asked, when you just waited for him to take it. 

“You need to eat. Clearly you don’t want to starve to death since you tried to stop me so just quit being so goddamn stubborn and eat the fucking food.” Your tone got significantly harsher by the end of the sentence and he almost seemed shocked. After a moment, he huffed, but took it from you anyway. You sat down next to him and tried to ignore how the smell of the chicken was roaring your stomach back to life. 

“After you finish eating, you should clean it with soap and water.” You said quietly. “I can help if you want.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I haven’t used that knife in ages, it wasn’t exactly sterile. You need to clean it or it’ll get infected.” 

“I’ve had worse.” Now that you weren’t focused on the large gash, you could see a few scars on the exposed skin of his torso. 

“Fine.” You stood up and left to grab two clean washcloths, a bottle of soap, and a bowl that you filled with water. When you walked back over and set the items on the coffee table, he narrowed his eyes and scowled at you, watching you get down on your knees in front of him. You reached for the bandage and he circled your wrist in a bruising grip. So you moved your other hand forward and he did the same thing, but winced when the motion made his shoulder shift. “If you let me do this I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“We’re not going to fucking play nurse. I can do it myself.” He spat. 

“I believe you. But I don’t believe that you actually will.” You challenged, making him roll his eyes with a scoff. “The quickest way to get rid of me is to let me do this.” He clenched his jaw and looked away from you for a moment, then released your wrists, letting you continue with your original plan of removing the bandage. When you ripped it off, he hissed in pain and you glanced at him nervously. “Sorry.” You said sheepishly. 

You hesitantly pushed the shirt open a little more, worried it would make him snap, but he just glared at you, letting you do it. Once you had enough room, you dipped the washcloth in the water then squirted some soap on it and worked it into the fabric. Getting up on your knees a little more, you shuffled closer, ignoring the feeling of his leg against your side— or… trying to, at least.

“I'm sorry again.” You said quietly as you started cleaning it. “I really didn’t mean for that to happen.” When you looked up at him, he was still watching you carefully, his guard fully up. “I’ll see if I can get something stronger for the pain when I go back to work.” You let your focus move back down to the task at him, trying not to blush under the heat of his gaze. 

“That’s illegal, you know.” He murmured, sounding uncharacteristically… neutral. 

“So is breaking out a criminal.” You countered. You didn’t really like talking about him like that though. Sure, he’s technically a criminal, but anyone failed that many times was bound to walk away without their sanity completely intact.

“You think I deserve to be in there?” He asked after a moment of silence. You couldn’t decipher his tone and you looked up at him again, his eyes a little softer now. 

“I don’t think anyone deserves to be in that hell hole.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” Your hand slowed to a stop, resting against his chest. 

“I think… given your history, it would’ve been a miracle if you grew up “normal.’” You said quietly. “I think you deserve to be in there for the things you’ve done, but not just to be imprisoned, to get help.” 

“If you’re going to survive there, you need to learn this sooner rather than later; the people in there have no remorse for what they’ve done, and neither do I.” He warned. 

“I can’t let myself believe that.” 

“Those people don’t want to be saved. I mean seriously, did you think our little talk sessions would change me? Make me a better man?” He cooed mockingly, making you frown. 

“I hoped they’d help you work through your trauma. After that? I wouldn’t need to do much else.” He scoffed at that, all but rolling his eyes. 

“You think I don’t know how to identify the root of what made me so fucked up?” His voice was back to the viciousness that you’ve started getting used to. 

“No, I think you do know how to identify it. I just think you don’t know how to overcome it.” You said calmly, trying not to agitate him any further. 

“I do not need to be lectured about trauma by someone who would’ve been my subordinate.” He snapped. 

“I’m not lecturing you, Jon. And don’t you think there’s maybe a reason why you’re getting so defensive right now?” He clenched his jaw and let out a heavy breath through his nose. 

“Fine. If you’re so interested in psychoanalysis, why don’t we talk about you then?” 

“That’s not what I’m doing,” 

“Your need for my praise and approval is almost pathetic.” He cut you off, making your mouth instantly close. “You’re so fucking desperate for it— Why do you think that is?” He tilted his head slightly and you swallowed the lump in your throat, barely able to look at him. “You break down at just the slightest amount of rejection. I mean for fucks sake- you literally tried to kill yourself because of it.” 

“Stop it, Jon.” You said quietly. 

“C’mon.. I’m sure you’ve heard of something that fits that description, even if it’s not an official disorder.” He said facetiously. “Personally, I think I’d just use the word “delusional.’” 

“That’s not what this is! I love you.” He raised his brows and gave you a knowing look, so you doubled down. “Being in love does not make me crazy.” 

“No, it doesn’t. But kidnapping someone and trying to kill yourself because you were rejected certainly does.” You paused and tried to control your expression so he didn’t know how much his words were affecting you. 

“I didn’t.. kidnap you. I got you out of there, like you wanted.” You said quietly. “And having you here is keeping you safe from being found and sent back to Arkham again.” He scoffed a disbelieving laugh and looked away from you. So you sighed and resumed cleaning the wound. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to help you sleep at night.” He muttered, making your frown deepen. You looked at him for another moment, then sighed and tried to finish cleaning quickly. 

Once you were done and another bandage was in place, you got up and headed toward your bedroom. You searched your closet for something he could wear, but the only thing you had that he’d be able to get into easily was a zip up hoodie. So you grabbed that and walked back out, which he clearly wasn’t pleased with since he probably thought you’d be gone longer. 

“Lean forward.” You said softly, sitting next to him to help put it on, making him scowl. 

“I can dress myself.” He spat and you sighed, but agreed, watching him struggle to get it on. Eventually, he succeeded and you leaned back on the couch when he continued eating, keeping your eyes down so you didn’t make him uncomfortable. “Are you planning on staying half nude?” Your entire face heated up when you realized you’ve yet to replace your shirt. You were just so anxious and upset that you didn’t even notice it. 

“N-no. Sorry.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly and you stood up to go grab a shirt from your room. He was on the last few bites of food when you walked back out. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“It fucking hurts.” He grumbled. You checked the time, seeing that it was already past seven. 

“I can try and go right now to get you something for the pain.” You suggested and he scoffed in response. 

“Do you want to lose your job?” That made you frown— you just wanted to help. “You stop by after hours for whatever reason and eventually they notice something’s missing and you think you won’t be made the primary suspect immediately?”  

“Okay, I get it.” You sighed. “I'm sorry. I was just trying to help.” You looked away from him as you thought of what else you could do. There aren’t any over the counter pain relievers that are any stronger than what you already gave him. “Wait,” You suddenly stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “I don’t know if you have a preference but either way it should help. It affects the central nervous system so the pain doesn’t seem as bad,”

“I know how it works, I’m not an idiot.” He snapped. “But you must be if you think I’ll willingly intoxicate myself around you.” Even though his words stung, you tried not to take it personally and just move on from the insult. 

“It’ll help, Jon.” 

“I don’t care.” You sighed, then walked back over and sat down again, keeping your eyes on your lap. You felt horrible. The only reason he’s in pain is because you were acting irrationally. 

“I know it won’t make it better, but I really am sorry.” You said quietly, chancing a glance at him. 

“I thought you promised to leave me alone if I let you play nurse.” He huffed. 

“Right. Okay, I’ll… I’ll go.” You cleared your throat and tried to hide your disappointment as you stood up. “If you want to shower, there are towels in the hall closet.” You offered. When he didn’t respond again, you sighed quietly and went to your room to leave him alone. 

You woke in the middle of the night and tried to go back to sleep since you had to be up for work in a few hours, but you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that something happened while you were asleep. Like the wound was infected and he was dead. 

That thought was a little extreme, but it was enough to get you out of bed to go check on him. He was asleep, laying on his back, and you moved closer to slowly unzip the jacket enough to see it. He hadn’t bled through the bandaid and you gently lifted a corner to see inside. Everything looked fine. At least you thought it did… You’re not that kind of doctor. 

When you zipped it back up, you couldn’t help but stare at him for a moment. He looked so peaceful, not angry or full of hatred. You wished he’d look like that all the time. 

Once you were satisfied knowing he wasn’t dead, you managed to fall back asleep. When you got up again, you somehow woke up fully after the first alarm so you were about twenty minutes ahead of schedule. You walked into the kitchen, still in your pajamas, and saw that he was awake this time. 

“Do you want some coffee? Actually,” you knew he wouldn’t answer it like that, “how do you take your coffee?” He scoffed a laugh and you couldn’t help but blush even though he was clearly laughing at you, not with you. 

“Black.” Was all he said, but it made you smile so big that it almost hurt your cheeks. It felt like you were finally getting somewhere with him. Walking over with two mugs, you handed one to him, then sat down, much to his displeasure. “Don’t you have to get ready?” 

“I woke up early.” You shrugged, taking a sip of the coffee. “You need to eat and quite frankly I don’t have many options here so I’m going to stop somewhere after work. What do you want?”

“I’m fine.” He muttered, drinking the coffee and keeping his eyes straight ahead instead of on you. 

“That’s not what I asked.” You said firmly— you had no clue where this boldness was coming from. He looked over at you with raised brows, almost… impressed.. by your audacity. “There must be something you’ve been craving since being in there. Tell me what it is and I’ll get it.” He huffed but seemed to understand that the quickest way to get rid of you is to just answer. 

“There’s a Southern place in Otisburg, right across the street from the Botanical Gardens. I don’t have a preference, I like everything they have.” You smiled, happy that you finally got a real answer out of him. Even though it’s out of your way, you’re excited that he actually shared something with you and agreed to eat. 

“Perfect. I can stop by the store too. Do you want anything specific for breakfast or lunch?” 

“Eggs.” He said simply, almost making you laugh. 

“Eggs it is. Anything else?” 

“What you have here is fine.” At least that means he looked and considered eating. 

“Do you like the coffee? Or should I get a different one.” He huffed, clearly getting annoyed with your questions. 

“It's coffee.” 

“Well, I like blonde roast. I don’t know if you prefer dark roast or something.” You said defensively. He didn’t answer so you assumed that meant he didn’t care what kind of coffee you had. You checked the time and decided you could sit here for five more minutes before you should start getting ready. You didn’t want to bother him so you just stared out the window, smiling at the way the morning sun was peeking through the buildings. If you ignored the very obvious contempt he has for you, this moment could’ve been perfect. 

“Does it still hurt?” You asked, turning to face him and blushing when you noticed his eyes were already on you. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that he’d been caught though. 

“Not as much.” He finally looked away and took another drink. 

“Do you think you still need something stronger than what I have here?” 

“I’ll be fine.” His tone left no room for argument, but you could tell he wasn’t being truthful. 

“Okay…” You said, still unsure. “Can I just check it really quick? Then I’ll leave you alone and go get ready.” He let out an exasperated huff and rolled his eyes, annoyed by your concern. But once again, he seemed to understand that the fastest way to get rid of you was to just agree. 

“Fine.” He grumbled, leaning back on the couch. You set your mug on the coffee table and scooched closer to him, getting on your knees on the couch so you could fully face him. You slowly reached for the zipper as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment. He didn’t say or do anything as you unzipped it and pushed it aside. You lifted half of the bandage and leaned closer to get a better look as your fingers delicately ran over the skin around it. 

“It looks like it’s scabbing.” You said absentmindedly. “So that’s good at least.” When you looked up at him, you suddenly noticed how close you’d gotten. You also noticed the way his eyes snapped up from your body to your face. You blushed, now hyper aware of the small, thin pajama set you were wearing. Clearing your throat, you quickly zipped up the hoodie again and leaned back. “It— Try to wash it today please.” He almost looked amused by your flustered state. “I… I should— I’m going to get ready now.” You quickly grabbed your mug and stood up, practically running to your room. 

Part 3

Again, sorry it’s cut a little awkwardly lol. This was written as a one shot.

Taglist (join here)

@cillianslvt @69your-best-night-mare69

[bigtreefest]

Hello, sweet Essie!! So we’ve met bartender!Curtis 🫠

Any thoughts (or thots) on bartender!Ari meeting a gal that’s interested in more than just his fruity drinks or getting in his pants? 😏

Hehehe, hello! Bartender!Curtis was a secret sweetie, just like his best friend.

Why, of course we can hear about Bartender!Ari!! I think he has really seen it all, so something super out of the ordinary would catch his eye. Someone who isn’t interested in him. At least not on the surface.

Here’s what I’m thinking. This…got away from me🫣 so it continues under the cut:

It’s a Thursday night, so the bar is buzzing a little, but not so much that it’s impossible to find a seat. As Ari’s topping off a beer, he sees you walk in, but when you make eye contact with him, there’s no smile, no nervous, bashful giggle. You don’t light up like most do when they see the Adonis. Instead, you just continue to drag your feet to a bar stool in between two regulars. Both hardly spare you a glance and Ari bars Curtis from walking over since you’re technically in Curtis’s section.

He makes his way over, setting a glass in front of you.

“On the house. You look like you need it”

But the thing is, you’re in no mood to accept his handout. Your voice is sharp when it comes back at him.

“What’s up with men and them thinking they know better than me!?”

You can see the shock on his face as he’s taken aback. His eyes widen, showing just how blue and surprisingly soft they are. There’s no hint of cockiness in them, at least not anymore. And that’s when you realize that you just snapped and feel terrible about it. The two big men on either side of you were startled, too.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I really appreciate this, I’ll pay to make up for that. It’s just…*sigh* never mind. I’m not gonna burden you with that”

Ari’s brow furrows. You’re a little dressed up, maybe for a casual date, but your face doesn’t show the excitement he knows Curtis had for his last one.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile as he spots someone else come up to the bar out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey, no worries. But you should know it’s literally in my job description to listen if you need it. I’ll let you have a second and then I’ll come back, okay?”

You just nodded, looking down into the double shot of whiskey over the rocks he had given you. You weren’t normally one for hard liquor straight, but after tonight, you might need something to match the bitter taste in your mouth, and you applauded the bartender for recognizing it.

You skeptically took a sip out of the glass, expecting it to burn, but it was surprisingly smooth and pleasant. The corner of your lip upturned at his gesture and you looked up to see his longer hair swaying with the breeze as he walked back over to you.

He gave a tentative smile, seeing you had calmed some and you returned it. He reached out his hand over the table.

“I’m Ari, this is my place. Well, mine and my buddy’s at least.”

You shook his large hand and introduced yourself, mind stuck on the feeling of his warm, callused palms. His firm, strong, yet gentle hold.

He leaned over his elbows on the counter.

“So penny for your thoughts?”

You scoffed as your finger danced over the rim of your glass.

“I’m not sure if you want them. They’re mostly about my disdain for men. Are they all so terrible?”

He blew out a breath and pushed back off the counter.

“Well, in what sense? Because as I guy, I want to say no, but as a guy who considers himself pretty reasonable, the answer is probably yes.”

You shrugged and shook your head. “Bad date.”

You talk with Ari about it the rest of the night until he walks you to your car. But the thing is, you keep coming back. Bad date, after bad date, and he’s always there to make you feel better.

Ari is doing everything to make the time to talk to you. He’s making Curtis save your seat, he’s hasty with everyone else who comes up to him. As much as he hates seeing you torn up over guys, he’s desperate for your visits. He tries to deny it, but Curtis isn’t blind. So he finally convinces Ari to ask you out. And oh man does Ari get an earful of “see? Not so easy when you’re on this side of it, buddy.”

Ari builds up his courage, and another Thursday night rolls around, and you’re nowhere to be seen. And then another one, and another one. Before he knows it, it’s been a month. Ari thinks he lost his chance. He’s devastated. He doesn’t want to bounce back with another girl he knows he could easily get. He just wants you.

On a Sunday afternoon, he’s doing inventory in the bar while they’re closed. He hears a knock on the front door and just thinks Curtis locked himself up on the roof again, so he had to climb down the ladder and come in the front. When it swings open, though, there’s no broad guy with a beanie on. It’s you.

EEK!! Do I need to make this into an actual fic? A clueless pining Ari?🫣

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles

[happy74827]

Happy Accidents

[Todd Ingram x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You might've broken your leg due to Todd, but that didn't mean you couldn't still have quality time together.

WC: 2672

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

This was such a random plot I came up with, but I’m actually in love with it. I feel that this little one-shot is 100% Todd accurate (I say little but it’s literally 2k words lol).

Also, please don’t send the vegan police after me for my inaccuracies (lmao). Google was my only option 😭😭

『••✎••』

Spending time at the hospital wasn’t the plan you had in mind for your Friday night. You expected it with you curled up on your couch watching whatever crappy reality show that was airing with Todd by your side.

He was always the perfect person to binge with; his reactions were an endless source of sarcastic commentary. It actually made it funnier.

But you couldn't be too upset. You still had Todd, and you had… some television. Sure, it wasn’t 90 Day Fiancé, but it was better than nothing.

Usually, when it came to broken legs, you were at the hospital for two hours. Two. Hours. Not you, of course. Your boyfriend had to be a vegan and have those whacked-out powers. It was a given that there’d be an accident.

Who knew a flying amp could be so hard to catch?

At least you didn't have a concussion. The only injury was your leg, but your leg was completely messed up. Three different fractures in your femur and a torn ligament. It was the most you had ever been injured in your life, including all those times you fell off your bike or when you broke your arm in third grade.

The doctors at the hospital said that they couldn't let you leave until Monday. Surgery was also still on the table and could happen as early as tomorrow, which you definitely weren’t paying for

So, you were stuck in the hospital, eating the terrible hospital food and watching stupid television.

And the worst part about all of this was that it was slowly taking your mind off of Todd.

It was only the last couple months when the two of you started dating. Neither of you were exactly serious or anything, but you had feelings.

He was a big guy and a real sweetheart, not to mention a badass with those powers of his. It was obvious that he had a good heart, and he didn't take shit from anybody. That included you.

You had to admit that it was cute when he got jealous. He never had to worry, though. You were never interested in guys like him. You had your eye on Todd, and now you were stuck in a hospital bed because of him.

Now that it was just a memory, the moment you broke your leg was pretty comical. Envy needed a rehearsal before their band went out on tour the following week, and since you and Todd planned the night out together, you attended their quick practice.

As usual, they were awesome. You were like a little fangirl when Envy started singing. You kept your cool, though, sitting on the couch while they ran tempo and entrances. You weren't paying too much attention either, until you heard a voice and turned your head.

Lynette, the drummer, apparently had a very salty day and decided to pick fights with Envy’s ideas. She even suggested that she should learn how to write songs. That was a big no-no when it came to Envy, and it was made very clear that it would be her last comment for the day.

It was a blur, really. Envy and Lynette were throwing insults at each other, and Todd was caught in the middle of it. He was pretty bad at confrontation when it didn’t technically involve him and so he usually let it slide, but something about Lynette had pissed him off this time.

You could still remember the words he said.

"You know what I hate about you? Your hair."

You giggled, and that was your mistake. Lynette absolutely loved her hair. That haircut was her pride and joy. Todd could never understand what it was about it, but it was Lynette's favorite feature.

So, when he insulted her favorite thing in the world, she immediately started attacking your boyfriend, causing you to go over and try to stop this before it escalated.

Well, it escalated. Todd subconsciously went into “vegan mode” when he was mad. It was a defense mechanism or something like that. In any case, an accidental movement of his hand had an expensive amplifier aimed right at your leg.

Envy saw it coming and screamed his name to get his attention, but he couldn’t hear her over Lynette, and you couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

And then, everything stopped. All you felt was the excruciating pain that was apparently your broken bone, multiple places, as you later found out. Your mind went blank for a moment as all the horrified expressions of each band member turned towards you.

Todd threw the amplifier aside with his powers, profusely apologizing to you. His hair settled back down to normal as he took you in his arms.

"Oh, god, am I an idiot." He said. "I didn't mean to… oh, man, you’re okay, right?"

You were on the verge of tears when you nodded your head. The adrenaline of the moment had taken over your pain as you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.

Envy most definitely cursed him out on your behalf. Lynette was still pissed as she stood off to the side, crossing her arms with a huff. She didn’t really know you, so she didn’t really care that you got hurt.

But Todd knew you, and he cared a whole hell of a lot about you. He was going to be making up to you for a while. You were going to get the apology of a lifetime and probably an entire chocolate cake with strawberries. You loved strawberries.

You did not care about your injury at that moment, though. The scene of Todd apologizing to you, Envy yelling derogatory words at him that were obviously unknown to him, and Lynette's head turning in the other direction was probably one of the best sights you had ever witnessed in your life.

“How’re you feeling?” Todd’s voice snapped you out of your memory. He was in the chair beside you with a hospital pillow on his lap. He had a bag of Doritos in his hand, which he was munching on.

You turned your head over to him and couldn't help but smile. It was a smile full of love and adoration, one that made Todd raise an eyebrow.

"I'm alright," you replied, reaching for the water that was by your bedside. You failed miserably, but Todd noticed it and hovered it over to your hands.

He took the opportunity to grab another chip and take a bite before looking back at you.

"You sure you're okay? I mean, you got hurt 'cause of me.”

"That's what I get for dating a badass, I guess." You laughed, shaking your head.

Todd scoffed, "That's not funny."

"It kinda is."

"Whatever." He crossed his arms and pouted a little bit. "I'll have to watch my back more now. I could have killed you."

“It’s okay. Envy would’ve reunited us if you had. She would’ve torn you a new one. I'd say you dodged a bullet there.”

As Todd munched on his Doritos, nodding along to your words, you knew there was nothing in his brain that connected what you’d just said. He was most definitely agreeing, just to agree.

And just because of that, you couldn't help but admire him. He was sitting there with his messy hair and those brown eyes of his. His clothes were wrinkled, and you could see the tiredness in his eyes, but none of it mattered to you because he was still so beautiful.

Todd being a vegan was also a blessing because it gave him such an amazing physique. He was lean but toned, his abs always visible even under his baggy shirts. Not that you cared if they were showing or not.

"Can I have a chip?” You asked him.

He turned towards you with a look of horror on his face. "You don’t like these. You like the non-vegan Doritos.”

“Aren’t they all… not vegan?”

Todd let out a sigh, his eyes rolling back.

"Not these. Spicy Sweet Chili. I got these from the vending machine. They're for me."

He sounded like a little child, which you couldn't help but laugh at. He always was so serious about these things, even though they were snacks that were meant to be shared with people.

"That's not what I asked." You said.

"Yeah, but-"

You made grabby hands at him. You were starting to feel that pain again as your muscles were getting tired. You needed those chips.

"Todd, please."

He let out a sigh, trying to hold back a smile. He was always such a big softie for you.

He handed over a bag of chips, and you wasted no time in taking one. Immediate regret as you took a bite out of the spicy snack, choking as you did so. You managed to swallow it down before taking in a drink of water to wash it all down.

"Told you that you wouldn't like them." He said with a grin.

"I… like them. I just don't like how I feel after I eat them."

"Mhmm.”

You glared at him, narrowing your eyes. "Stop being smug."

"I can't help it if I'm so cool." He winked.

He wasn't wrong, though. Todd had a very good self-esteem about himself and was never shy to tell you so. But it was the way he said it, that smug look of his and his stupid wink, that made you want to punch him and kiss him.

It was those little things.

"You know," you said as you crossed your arms, "this isn't how I planned on spending my Friday night."

"I know, babe. I know."

"I mean, I thought we were going to have some quality time. The two of us and the TV, I really wanted to catch up on that old Ed and Rose storyline.”

"I know, I know.”

"And instead, I'm here with and because of you." You glared at him as you finished your sentence.

He was ready for your attack, crossing his arms to match yours. You two were in the middle of a staring contest when Todd opened his mouth to say something, but the nurse came in at the worst possible moment to interrupt him.

"Ah, you're awake. How're you feeling?”

Unfortunately, this made Todd win the battle as you were forced to look at the nurse. She had a smile on her face, one that made you feel relaxed. Todd turned to look at her as well.

"I'm feeling better now." You said. "Thank you for asking."

The nurse nodded her head, writing down your words before turning to Todd with a smile. "Since your friend—”

“Girlfriend.” He corrected her, pointing a finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, turning your head to the side as you did so. Your laughter got the nurse to smile.

"I apologize. Since your girlfriend is doing better, you’re welcome to visit back in the morning. Visitation hours are from eight to twelve and one to three. After that, only family will be allowed in.”

Todd turned to look at you, and you could see that he wanted to say something, but with a simple nod from you, he leaned back in the chair with his arms crossed, giving the nurse his attention.

She gave him another smile as she looked back at you. "I’ll come back in about an hour for a checkup. Press the button if you need anything in the meantime."

"Thank you." You replied.

She left the room smiling, leaving the two of you to look at each other.

You let out a sigh as you leaned your head back on the bed, closing your eyes. Todd's eyes never left you, staring at you as you did so.

“Should've said we were married. I would've been able to stay the night here." He said.

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep because of your snoring. You know, that's why I get up so early in the mornings. I have no choice but to leave the bed when you're snoozing away."

Todd had the audacity to smile at that, shaking his head.

"Whatever, I don't snore. Besides, you love the way my arms feel around you."

You opened one eye, staring at him. "Are you trying to make me feel bad?"

"No. I'm just stating the facts. I have great arms if you hadn't noticed."

You scoffed at him and his bragging. You closed your eyes again.

"I hate you so much."

"I know." He said with a smirk on his face. “Can I have my chips back now? You ate almost all of them."

You handed the bag back to him without another word, sighing deeply. You could feel Todd's stare at you as he opened up the bag again.

You heard him take another chip into his mouth as he stared at you, but he was too quiet, so you knew he had something else to say.

"What?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know that I meant it when I said sorry, right?"

"Of course I know, Todd. You always apologize."

He swallowed down his chips. "Yeah, but this time I really meant it. I was so scared when you got hurt. I didn’t mean to; I just got pissed at Lynette, and that all happened."

"Todd, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it. You would never hurt me."

"You're sure?" He asked.

You opened up your eyes again, looking at him. He was staring down at his lap as he said those words, biting his lip. You could tell that he was genuinely worried about this, so you reached over and made grabby hands again, but instead of the chips, you were looking for him.

Todd looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. He placed the bag of chips aside and got out of his chair, going over to the side of the bed to look at you. You placed both of your hands on either side of his neck, smiling at him.

"I'm positive. I know how much I mean to you, Todd. You don't need to worry. I'm not mad at you."

He was looking right into your eyes as you said that and nodded his head, moving closer toward you as he placed his hands on the side of the bed. You didn't want him to be too far away from you, so you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear."

"I know." You replied. "It's not your fault."

You stared at each other for a few more moments before he leaned down and kissed you. He placed both of his hands on either side of the bed as he deepened the kiss. He didn't do this often, but when he did, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He was also extremely careful now that you had broken your leg, making sure that he wasn't putting any pressure on your side. He placed one hand on your face to hold you in place as he kissed you while his other hand supported his body.

It felt like a few minutes had passed before he broke the kiss. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

It wasn't the first time he said it, and it definitely wasn't the first time you had said it to him, but it was the first time you heard those words without any fear in his voice. There was no worry, no hesitation, only love.

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile on his face. His brown eyes always captivated you, especially when he smiled.

You felt your own smile spread as you looked into those beautiful eyes of his, kissing him on the cheek before snuggling up to him.

You felt his hands wrap around your body and sighed contently. Eventually, he’d have to leave, but until then, you were going to enjoy this.

And if it came with spicy chips, then even better.

[sinsinsininning]

A little bit softer

Chapter 2.

Eustass Kid x crew mate!fem!reader

TW: depictions of DV, descriptions of medical terms and procedures, not as smutty

A/N: I don’t know why but l always have to make my reader inserts or OCs a medic in some way……It’s probably bc I’m a vet tech.

~~~~~~

Kid felt… guilty, which wasn’t a normal thing for him. Suspecting you were scared of him was one thing. But knowing you were scared of him was another entirely.

He wanted to shake himself some days, you were just a rookie. Not his lover. Not his partner. He didn’t owe you anything. But then he’d ruin his own pep talk by thinking of you and your face.

After your conversation with Heat, Kid walked on eggshells around you. The entire crew was still trying their damnedest to meddle with him, so encounters with you had ramped up a lot. You both still did your best to avoid eye contact or speak to him. But it was clearly starting to wear on the crew’s patience.

“You need to handle your shit.” Killer said to him one day in his workshop. Kid couldn’t even pretend not to know what he was on about.

“You need to fuck off!” He shouted, feeling his shoulders shake.

“Just talk with her, you never know, maybe she likes you as well.”

Kid burst out in hysterical laughter, needing a few moments to catch his breath.

“She’s terrified of me Killer,” He coughed. “She thinks I’m gonna hit her or something. I heard her telling Heat.” Killer cocked his head, thinking.

“All the more reason to clear the air. What’s more is I can’t have the crew keep trying to pair the two of you up, it’s getting in the way of their tasks.” Kid fixed him with a glare.

“Newsflash, asshole! You were the one who started that shit!” He turned back to his table. “Besides the fuck am I gonna say to make her feel better? Huh?”

“That’s true, you’re not good with words.” Killer nodded and began approaching him. “You’ll just have to use your actions.” Kid laughed.

“Oh yeah? How am I gonna do that?” He asked sarcastically before a sharp pain flared in his right arm. “Ow what the fuck?!”

Killer had cut his arm, a deep laceration at least 5 inches long. The masked man shrugged at his shouting.

“She’s in the med bay, go up there, tell her you got cut while working. Ask her to patch you up.”

“Fuck you this stings!” Kid pressed a used rag to his arm. “I’ll fucking stab you.”

“She won’t be there much longer. Tell her you can’t find me and you can’t stitch yourself with one hand.” Killer took that moment leave, Kid stood there fuming for a moment. Part of him wanted to just stay down here and fix it later, just to piss Killer off.

But a stronger part of him wanted to see you, hopefully you wouldn’t run or hide. He made his way slowly to the med bay, almost hoping you’d be gone. As he entered he saw how unlucky he was.

You had your back to him, wiping down the machines that sterilized the suturing materials and other rudimentary instruments. He coughed to get your attention, keeping his injured arm hidden behind the doorframe.

“Hip are you don- oh!” He hated how tense you became, you soft stomach clenching in worry. “Sorry captain, I thought Hip was done with the mop. What can I do for you?” He showed you his arm and felt a small bit better as you gasped with worry.

The rag he’s used to staunch the bleeding made it look worse than it was, but it had dried a little and was now stuck to his skin. You motioned for him to sit on the chair by the table.

“How’d that happen?” You asked, trying to gently peel the rag off.

“Was working and it just kinda happened.” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to lie to you. “Don’t know where Killer is and I can’t sew with only one hand.” Still not lies technically.

“Gotcha.” You’re all business and he feels a little flush at the sight of you zipping around the room gathering materials. “Well it’s not too bad, really deep though. I’ll numb it, suture it really quick and you should be on your way.” Any trace of fear or anxiety was gone, your posture alert but relaxed, you soft face was focused.

“Take your time.” Kid drawled, enjoying the view, didn’t hurt that your ass looked good as you bent over to grab something under the desk. Your ass always looked good he decided. “Got nowhere to be.”

“Not true,” You return with a small syringe, some type of numbing drug he assumed. “You’re the captain, you probably got plenty of stuff to be doing.”

He didn’t respond, the injection you gave him stung so he had to bite back his swears about it. Neither of you spoke as you worked. You had to stand pretty close to place the sutures, your hands cold but soft as you touched him.

You shivered at one point and Kid realized, horrifically, that he’d leaned to far forward to watch your hands. You glanced up at him, caught his gaze and shuffled a bit further back. He wanted to growl as he saw how tense you’d gotten, your soft apology only making him more frustrated.

You were halfway done and he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“So.” You tensed again, he could see it in your neck especially. “I never did ask… who was your old captain?” You jabbed the needle a bit harder at the question, obviously not on purpose as you profusely apologized. He ignored and continued to stare until you answered.

“His- um. His name is um… It’s Badger. Captain Badger.” You try to focus once more.

“How long did you sail with him?”

“2 years.”

“How big was the crew?”

“About 15.”

“Where’d you sail?”

“West Blue.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Um.” You were almost shaking, he almost hesitated.

“Why’d you leave his crew?”

“What does it matter?” Oh that was a response, he grinned, anger was better than fear. At least in his book.

“Answer the question. It’s important for me to know.”

“You never needed to know before. Why now?”

“Because I’ve been watching you.” He leans forward more, meeting your heated glare as you tied the final knot. “You’ve got some peculiar habits, I’d like to know more about that.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

He nodded.

“Like on deck or like…. In my room?”

“Not like that you pervert!” He can’t help but shout, you don’t flinch though. A small grin on your face as you successfully get him off the topic.

“So not my room or the showers? Just to clarify.” He knows he’s blushing but he still growls and stands to his full height. You step back but he follows you, a look of fear in your eyes takes over the glee. But he can’t stop himself from continuing.

“You’re clever, but I still need an answer.” He crowds your space, placing both hands on the counter behind you, caging your body with his. He leans forward, letting his breath fan over your ear. “Why did you leave?”

You stay silent, face red and a little sweaty, he pulls back just enough to admire the sight. He can’t make a reassuring face to save his life, but he tries as tears fill up your eyes. Still, he can’t stop, he needs this. You need this.

“If you are unhappy with my performance or skills, tell me and I will fix them. I haven’t brought any bad habits on board. I assure you.” You finally answer, your words felt warm against his face, he grinned some more.

“Uh-uh you see, one of those habits, the only one really,” His grin drops from his face. “Is that you’re scared of your captain.” You pale at his words and start to shake a little. He continues, drawing back slightly.

“That’s something he taught you, right?” He tilted his head a little. “To be scared of your captain. Because you never know when he’ll just up hit you, right?” He parroted your words from the bar back to you. Your eyes are wide with recognition.

“I’m sor-“

“Save it,” He cuts you off. “I know I’m scary, it’s my whole deal. I’m a scary pirate who murders and pillage. But my crew is mine. Understood. I don’t let anyone harm them, especially not myself.” You lean back into the counter more.

“You hurt Wire. You made him need staples and you didn’t even seem sorry. You didn’t help patch him up.” Kid knew this was coming, he still didn’t know what to say.

“It was a mistake,” He said. “I didn’t mean to hit him, but you’re right. I should’ve check on him and made sure he wasn’t hurt.” It was hard to admit he was wrong, but in the small medical room, to you, it was a little easier.

Both of you stayed quiet for a while. He made no move to let you go. And you made no move to try. He wasn’t sure if he would’ve actually stopped you if you did. Finally, the tension in you jaw and shoulders eased, just a little.

“Badger… was bad. He didn’t just hit us. He stole from us and wouldn’t let us leave, even if some managed to escape they’d have no Beris. It’d be like starting from scratch, but worse because if he caught you he’d kill you.” You paused, taking a big breath, turning to stare at the wall. “I was secretly saving Beris, to hopefully run off and be able to hide from him. I didn’t have much, barely anything. One day he came and told me he wanted me to be his… wife.” Kid stood up straight, leaning back like he’d been struck, you continued barely noticing him.

“I told him no, I should’ve said yes and bided my time. Maybe I could’ve taken more people with me, but I was an idiot.”

“No that’s not-“ You cut him off.

“He threw a fit, tried to kill me. His devil fruit power nullifies weapons, so I couldn’t fight back. I tried to stage a mutiny, but everyone was too afraid, he’d never lost a fight. Eventually I jumped over board and swam to shore. I hid on a marine ship, I never had a bounty so I just pretended to be some girl who wanted to travel. I flirted with some of them and got a ride to a port a few islands over.” You sighed, a long exhale that seemed to deflate you. “I had no Beris or even clothes. But I overheard some rookies talking about joining your crew. I figured it was the safest option. So I spoke with Killer and here I am.” You trailed off quietly, tears still hadn’t fallen yet, it was almost impressive.

Kid didn’t speak for several long minutes, just watching you hold your breath. Finally he pushed off the counter, giving you both some breathing room. He began to exit when you called out.

“Captain what are you doing?”

He turned with a scowl.

“I’m setting a course to go murder that asshole.”

“What? Why that’s so far off our course.”

“I told you, you’re my crew. We’re gonna go murder him, then if any of your old friends wanna join the crew they can.” He laughed at your shocked face. When he’d caught his breath he turned again to leave.

[seven-meds]

Hi!

I love your art and I am extremely enamored by the beauty of your writing !

That being said, I am an artist as well and I feel like I have been stuck in a creative rut and I don’t know how to get to out ? Do you have an advice on breaking out of the hole and as well do you suggest drawing everyday as a method to keep up with skill?

Thank you so much <3

Thanks so much! I considered this for a while. Giving artistic advice, whether broad or targeted, is always difficult. It's too nebulous of a process for rules but everyone still has such a strong opinion on what the rules should be. 

In my experience, lulls are beneficial when seen from the correct perspective and then taken advantage of. Endless production is antithetical to all art that is not corporate in nature, and lack of inspiration means you will benefit from something often overlooked: new experiences and engagement with new things. Though if you do want to feel productive, take a sketchbook and a pen to a public area and draw what you see for an hour or two. You likely won't be inspired but you will feel accomplished.

Historically, artists took extended periods of time away from creating in order to experience life and take in the world, its people, and themselves. Not always willingly; some were torn away and sent to war, fled their homeland, or were imprisoned, enslaved, or institutionalized. And there are those who spent long periods of time bedridden by illness or injury. But whether their experiences were gained by choice, by force, or by nature, their time away from art is what ended up shaping what they made. Drawing in isolation will sharpen a skill, but it's through repeated use of that skill to translate your experiences that your art improves.

An artist's goal is communication first and foremost. This is why drawing daily on its own cannot make anyone a better artist. It will eventually lead toward some sort of technical prowess, but technical prowess with no voice is fairly pointless and very dull. Ideally, the development of voice will precede the development of technical skill and the two become honed in tandem. What you want to say should define what you need to learn. If you are developing an understanding of your own intentions then you are already a step ahead of the artist who is focusing solely on their ability to draw a head from every angle. 

It's beneficial to conceptualize art as a series of choices rather than a display of objective prowess. The more experiences you have and the more educated you are, the more sophisticated your choices become. You'll also find that you're able to analyze and appreciate (or criticize) the choices of other artists, increasing the enjoyment of engaging with art as a whole. You'll then be led toward more complex and unique work as you become bored with things that salivate over their own palatability. You may also find that art you've passed over before suddenly begins to speak to you.

Spend time exposing yourself to new art, ideally from large swathes of eras, places, and forms, including art that communicates things uncomfortable, disturbing, or offensive to you. Delve into the history of the artists and works you enjoy (or hate) in order to fully understand what's being said and why. If you currently find yourself interacting solely with contemporary art delivered largely via algorithm or advertisement that elicits feelings of familiarity and comfort, you should recognize that as a limitation. You are certainly free to work within it, but you will stumble into inspiration more quickly through exposure to different ideas.

It's also a good time to interact with others, if possible (even from a distance), and to look into topics completely divorced from art. Enrich yourself in many ways. The world is so vast and full of so much. What can you experience and learn that will make you yearn to communicate again? 

Try not to waste years studying aimlessly. Develop an interest, a concept, an idea, an experience, and then work toward communicating it effectively. You will learn as you develop new pieces (because you will put effort and energy into targeted research and study), and those pieces will become more complex in both substance and technique. 

Good luck!

[anonymous-dentist]

I find it amazing how many people are reaction to Pepito and roier relationship, like, expecting him to be the greatest father of all times when he has been dealing with depression for the longest time and now is facing what could only be described as one of the lowest points in his life.

While also forgetting Pepito's own feelings because he clearly wants to get closer to him and worries about him.

It's because they aren't actual Roier fans, because real Roier fans are NOT out here calling him a good father rn. He's fucked up! He needs help! He's doing his best, but he also isn't, and we all know and acknowledge that. Pepito does, too!!

But then we see all these English-POV-Only people taking literally everything qRoier does and going "See? He shouldn't be a father anymore. Let Bad (or Fit or Phil or any English CC) take care of Pepito from now on, they'll know how to do it!!!" And like. That's super fucked up!!!!! Because we had that Otipep bullshit last week that Hispanic fans were understandably really upset about, and then English fans are like "Well actually it was canon and Roier is a terrible dad and his child hates him so Bad should obviously take custody of Pepito because he's perfect!!" like?? That's super weird? Why do people only criticize Roier's parenting rn?

Think about it. Even going back to when Bobby was alive and when even Tilin and Flippa were alive, English fans were discounting Roier's parenting despite Bobby unarguably being the happiest kid on the island up until his dying breath, anyone can tell you that. When Bobby died, everyone said it was Roier's fault. When Tilin died, I saw people saying "Well, this wouldn't have happened if Roier was there instead of Slime. He should've paid more attention." Same for when Flippa died the final time. Some people still don't count Roier as one of Richarlyson's fathers, but they're practically begging for Bad to be one. Or they've been like "Well Roier can't take care of Richarlyson, he'll get him killed just like how he got Bobby killed!" since June

And now we have Roier and Pepito and Otipep's non-canon leaving a sign in English for other parents to see how bad of a parent Roier has to be. qBad saying "Well, Richarlyson is a better parent than Roier is."

But then we have qRoier himself not wanting to be a parent again but taking care of Pepito anyway and giving Pepito cookies when the other islanders could technically take care of Pepito for him. He doesn't trust Pepito at all and he thinks Pepito is evil and a clone or whatever sent to distract him from the Federation, but he's taking care of Pepito anyway, and he's done a pretty okay job at it considering how genuinely depressed and suicidal he is. He's been spending all night every night working on something in secret, but he still went to hang out with Pepito instead of continuing to work on it or instead of sleeping or whatever.

Pepito loves Pepito's dad, and Pepito has been wanting to really connect with him. When ccRoier gets better and feels well enough to get online, I wouldn't be surprised if Pepito stuck close to him to try and cheer him up because! Pepito adores him!! Pepito doesn't want a different father; if Pepito did, Pepito would've hung around Forever or Bagi or Bad all day like Otipep would've (because Otipep hated Roier and wanted a different parent)

But people- and, again, mostly English-POV-onlies, and specifically BBH-POV-Onlies- have decided that Pepito needs to be rescued. Roier is a bad father, Otipep is canon despite several ccs and admins and Quackity himself saying otherwise, Pepito needs someone who can take care of Pepito, and that person? Obviously qBadBoyHalo, who is literally dying in canon. Bad is NOT healthy at all, anyone looking at him can see that.

Not one of Pepito's other parents (who happen to all be Latin American, majority Mexican + Carre the Argentinean.) Not any of the Brazilians or the French. One of the English CCs, who doesn't even speak Pepito's language (because Pepito doesn't like writing in anything but Spanish because! Pepito's parents are all Hispanic! Why would Pepito need to write in English around them?)

So, really, people need to take a look at their attitudes and consider whether or not they think Roier is and always has been a bad father because of his actions or because he's a Mexican man. Same reason why people need to think about this regarding qMariana and Flippa, and qQuackity with Richarlyson.

Because, to me (admittedly as a gringo myself), this all reeks of xenophobia. Why else would a Mexican character and cc and his fans be constantly harassed by overwhelmingly-American fans in defense of a white American man who has not once asked them to do this. Fans demanding Pepito speak in English last night when Pepito was hanging out with Bad and being unhappy when Pepito spoke in Spanish. Fans consistently demonizing the Latin American members and characters and eggs on the server, whether it's the Latin American Hispanics or the Brazilians.

Last night, Bad's fans led a hate campaign against Roier and Cellbit fans on Twitter. They've been pulling this shit for weeks now since Pepito first showed up, and I really think that they need to take a step back and touch some grass and consider their values because this issue goes far deeper than character analysis, I think.

[fizzigigsimmer]

Ahem.

Imagine Billy’s first spring show at the academy being Frankenstein. He and Steve are still in their rival stage and Steve is gloating because he got the part of Victor, who is technically the lead. Billy’s pissed because they were both good but he thinks he did better at his audition. No he doesn’t think it, he knows it.

This is total bullshit and obvious favoritism. He wants to just pack his bags and walk out, only he hasn’t hated the last couple of months the way he thought he would. His classes are challenging and it’s been nice not having to hide his books or pretend like he doesn’t give a shit about his grades without his dad looming over him. And fuck, yeah, he’ll admit it, he’s not sure if he’s ready to give up dancing again.

Being able to practice every day with Argyle & Eddie who almost feel like friends now, learning from teachers who really know their stuff and who can push him to be better - he’s not ready to walk away from it. Which burns. Because he doesn’t want to need this place more than he wants it; and that’s what drives him into Mrs. Harrington’s office, calling her out for her Nepo Casting. He all but dares her to admit that he was better and therefore should have gotten the part as Victor.

He’s speechless when she agrees with him - about the audition. Not about the part.

“I don’t need to tell you you’re good Billy. You already know it. You’ve scored the highest on every exam this term.”

“So then why -”

“Because this is a school, Billy, and while some competition between students is to be expected you shouldn’t mistake this for one. This place is meant to prepare you for the world first, but more specifically to teach you to be an artist within it. Our job as your teachers is not to hand out parts based on how you score on a sheet, but on how you might grow. I gave you that role because you bring something to it that few of your fellow students can, and I believe there is much you can learn from it. Likewise, the part of Victor will challenge Steve technically as well as mentally. When I approved the curriculum for this term I’ll admit I wasn’t confident that reading the novel in English would sufficiently teach him anything about the pitfalls of pride and hubris -”

Billy snorts. Because if Harrington manages to write a thoughtful essay on Frankenstein’s themes without Wheeler spoon feeding it to him he’ll eat his hat. Mrs. Harrington’s eyes dance like she read his mind and shrugs.

“I was never much of a reader either. Dance has always spoken to me in a language that is easier to understand.” She smiles at him, tenderly, with that same look in her eye that Billy’s mom always had when she talked about dance. It’s a look he sees every day now reflected in the eyes of so many almost friends. Still. It’s not fair. Steve gets the lead because he’s an arrogant prick and mommy hopes playing out the demise of another stuck up asshole will teach him to play nice with the other kids, and Billy just has to take it?

“It’s not fair.” he challenges, and Mrs. H. sighs a little, her smile fading as her expression settles into something more serious. Final.

“You did very well Billy. But no. Victor is not the role you should have.” She says, closing the door on any further argument with one of her direct unblinking stares. “I’m confident you’ll do very well as the creature, and that the rest of this term will be an education for you.”

She doesn’t say as much but Billy doesn’t need anyone to tell him the conversation is over. For better or for worse he’s Frankinstien’s creature and he’s going to have to put up with Steve, Tommy and Jason giving him shit until the show is over. As he leaves the madame’s office he vows to himself then and there that he’s going to outshine Steve on that stage and make him eat every word. Victor isn’t even the true protagonist of that story anyway, and Billy’s going to show them all why.

[nelkcats]

Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 Ao3 Next

Part 6

-----

The wounded know better how to treat other wounded

------------------

"You guys are really annoying" Crane complained from his Arkham cell, ever since the daybat left him there he had been put in solitary confinement for escaping.

Which he usually wouldn't mind, it was much better to be alone than to hear the Joker's laughs or Waylon's complaints, but the damn cell had a window.

And what was watching him from the window? crows, many of them, after his lamentable defeat he tried to ignore them upon their arrival but it wasn't working.

"Why are you here? Are you making fun of me?" Scarecrow complained with a frown, he really hated birds.

"Kar, Kar, Kar" one of the crows flapped its wings, though it looked a bit apologetic, if birds could show emotions.

"What? Are you trying to apologize or something?" Crane scoffed, not buying the act the crow was showing.

"Kar, Kar" the crow nodded, it almost seemed like they were really sorry for leaving him in such bad shape.

"As if I would believe you" Scarecrow snorted "if you really want to apologize get out of my sight"

Surprisingly that seemed to work because the crows began to disperse. Crane looked at the situation with curiosity, he had spent hours arguing with the creatures and asking them to leave, what was different this time?

And then he saw it, a cat had crashed through the bars of his cell window, it looked pretty small, probably a bit adventurous considering he had pounced on three adult crows at the same time.

"Oh" Scarecrow fixed his gaze on the little cat, he looked quite malnourished, and he was sure he had an infection or two, but technically he had driven the crows away right? He really couldn't be mad about it.

"You're a long way from home, aren't you buddy?" He questioned, the cat looked at him curiously, probably wondering if he should jump at him or not.

It was quite easy to determine the winning option because before he knew it the little kitten had jumped onto the mask on his head.

"What are you doing over there?" Asked the villain, more amused than angry, it was a little worrying that he couldn't feel the weight of the cat on his head.

"The guards are going to be mad if they find you here, you know?" Crane continued speaking, finally reaching the kitten and tucking it into his arms, "you must be an adventurer."

"Meow" the cat meowed, reaching into the seams of the mask and nibbling, it looked like he had found something to play with.

"You're also lonely aren't you?" Scarecrow said, you could hear some fondness in his tone; he glanced around his confinement cell but there didn't seem to be anyone near him, the guards wouldn't be passing by for hours either. In the end, he made up his mind to stroke the cat's fur.

"You need a bath, and probably a vet" he stated checking the little boy, he had a scar over his eye and was obviously neglected, it wasn't a surprise considering he lived in Gotham.

"Do you hate crows too?" He questioned curiously as he watched the cat wagging its tail as it stared out the window, he took the meow as confirmation.

"I guess we have some things in common" Scarecrow allowed himself a smile "I should help find you an owner, you're too young to be here alone."

The cat looked away from the window and fixed on him at the mention of a new caretaker, meowed with determination and placed one of his paws on Crane's mask.

"Me?" The confused villain questioned "I don't think that's a good idea, I work a lot with chemicals and I'm currently stuck here, surely we can find someone better qualified"

The cat didn't seem to like the answer because it meowed again and placed both paws on the man.

"Okay, okay, you're stubborn, if you want me to take care of you I guess we can work something out." Crane sighed, he didn't know if sneaking a kitten into his cell was a good idea, but it can't be helped "I guess strays stick together, don't we?"

Well, he supposed there was nothing he could do, he had acquired a cat.

"We're gonna be great friends, Cannon"

—--------

Amazingly Danny managed to make it through the whole night without waking up from a nightmare. That could have something to do with the warm weight around his waist, or with Nocturn, he wasn't quite sure which.

Though to be completely honest, he refused to thank the pesky dream ghost for anything, their differences might have been sorted out, more or less, but he had the right to continue pissed off for all damn eternity. Who decides that putting an entire city to sleep was a good bonding exercise to meet the new ghost? Literally no one!

"Five more minutes" the halfa muttered when he felt his pillow move. That was weird, Johnny must be bothering him again.

"Ugh, stop," he groaned, touching the bed aggressively in an attempt to stop the annoying ghost, but he frowned when he felt the surface.

"How strange, I don't remember buying such a square pillow, but it is quite comfortable" Danny yawned as he began to open his eyes a little.

"Did I just got demoted to a pillow?" Jason asked with amusement watching as the boy kept touching his chest, probably to settle him on the bed or something. 

"Pillows don't usually complain that much" the halfa complained before opening his eyes fully and noticing the person next to him "WAIT, JAY? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY PILLOW?"

"Take a closer look," Jason told him with a chuckle.

"What am I going to look-" the halfa stopped talking and blushed when he noticed how he was lying on the other's chest "Damn, you're comfortable"

"Is that all you're going to say?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not the pillow-shaped one between the two of us," Danny smirked. Although he was having an internal panic; he decided that was going to be a problem for future Danny, one more awake than the current one.

Jason just shook his head feeling amused by the situation, that wasn't what he expected to hear when he woke up.

"So...have you considered working as a professional pillow?" Danny asked, leaning back into Jason's chest.

Honestly Jason was quite surprised by the nerve "I don't think that's a real job, Doll"

"I could make it real, you know." Danny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a smile, apparently being half asleep gave him courage to flirt.

"Danny, I'm the one who gives your paycheck" Jason couldn't help but laugh at the face the boy was making "just shut up and let me go, I need to make breakfast"

"But you're sooo soft and waaarm" the halfa complained sadly, actually he just didn't want to let him go, he was sure that the only reason he was calm at that moment was the other's presence.

"Doll, as much as I want to lay here all day you really need a good breakfast" Jason reminded him "don't think I forget about the comment you made to the kids, you're going to leave this house well fed"

“You really don't have to do that" the halfa muttered embarrassed, he really hoped the other would forget that comment quickly.

"No, I will, and since your roommate isn't here to reason with you I feel responsible for doing so," Jason stared at him, daring him to argue, "So you're going to sit here and have the best breakfast of your life, okay?"

"Okay" Danny agreed, he felt a chill down his spine but refused to participate in the strange power play, he could feel the intensity in the other gaze and taking into account his own experiences with Jazz he knew better than to argue with the person preparing his food. Besides, Jason reminded him too much of an Italian matriarch at the moment to argue.

"Still, I really don't feel good enough to let you go right now" the boy muttered worriedly.

"What do you mean by that? You look pretty good to me" He asked curiously, actually he looked too good to have recently come out of a fear gas attack, he was suspicious for a moment but no one could fake such an intense reaction like the day before.

"It's embarrassing" Danny muttered, fixing his gaze on the bedroom window, Gotham had a strangely picturesque architecture "you're going to laugh at me"

"I will laugh at you for many things, but your trauma is not one of them" Jason clarified seriously "you can trust me, Doll"

"Okay then" Danny sucked in as much air as he could and let it out all at once, it was a clear attempt to give himself courage "You are my anchor"

"Your anchor? I don't remember you having a boat," Jason teased as he tried to make sense of the sentence in his head, all he could think of were Percy Jackson lines. He shouldn't have let his brother convince him to read the whole saga, his expectations for romance were too high because of it.

The lines when Percy gets Achilles' curse were really romantic, weren't they? He is certainly not referring to that.

Though something inside him screamed that this was definitely a literature reference he should pay attention to, Jason doubted it, no one had ever said or referenced cute lines to him before and he doubted a pretty boy would start.

"Not that kind of anchor" the halfa turned to see him and smacked his arm annoyed "You are my anchor to reality, when you're around fear fades, like a lucky charm"

"A pillow, an anchor, and now an amulet, you assign me only good things, don't you?" The vigilante sneered, "So, the reason you're so well is…?"

"Yeah, it's because you're close" Danny decided to ignore Jason's comment about how he kept associating him with objects, it wasn't his fault it fit "The gas makes me see a lot of things but when I feel your heartbeat I just- I don't know "

"Relax?" Jason asked softening the expression on his face, he understood the need to want to know that the people you cared about were safe, it was a feeling he related to.

Like the need to know that his family was safe away from him, that the pits hadn't hurt them yet, and wouldn't.

"Quite a lot" Danny nodded "I think my heartbeat is imitating yours or something" he tried to joke.

"My heartbeat?" Jason asked curiously, that's when he noticed Danny's grip on his right arm, one of his fingers resting lightly on his carotid artery.

The place where doctors usually checked the pulse of their patients.

"How long have you been checking?" He asked again with his renewed curiosity, he found it interesting that he hadn't noticed the boy's hand obviously clinging to him when it was obvious that he had been like this for more than a while. Jason was supposed to have been trained by ninjas and Batman himself, how the hell did he miss that?

"Since I woke up, it probably started a bit after that" the halfa admitted sheepishly "I was checking your heartbeat when I lay on your chest, but after pulling away I really needed to be sure, I know it's a little weird, but I really don't want to go back to the world of fear Jay"

The world of fear was much worse than Frighty's dimension because it kept playing with his head, replaying and distorting his own memories until they were destroyed. The fact that Dan didn't appear even once during the flashbacks was worrying. It meant that the fear to his own city and the despair born of how much he had failed far outweighed the fear of himself.

Although he didn't want to cause Jason any unnecessary discomfort, his half-asleep state had taken over his morning actions, the ghost side of him became extremely possessive of the person who had "saved" him, and he needed to make sure that he was fine, alive, breathing.

"So, to clarify: the reason you're so calm right now is because of me? Somehow I make you feel better?" Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't moved by the thought.

"Or at least that's my theory" he said "My head was in a horrible place, I kept reminiscing and trying to suppress things I don't want to think about, until I found you, you became my light Jay"

"You make it sound like a romance novel," Jay tried to tease, he hoped Danny didn't notice his heartbeat rising at the words. It was strange that such a cheesy phrase was out of a book and coming out of the mouth of the cutest boy he had ever seen.

Focus Jason, you're not in a romance novel, this is real life.

Of course, Jason wouldn't deny how warm the thought felt, him, Jason Tood, being a knight in shining armor in a romance novel? It was a scenario he had thought of multiple times when he was a child.

"I would say it's a fantasy novel, although maybe it has multiple genres" the halfa smiled "it's the story of a knight who rescues a person in distress and becomes his safe place"

"I've never been anyone's safe place, I don't know if you're making a good decision with it" Jay said doubtfully.

But how are you supposed to react when the person who is slowly stealing your heart starts talking about you in such a dreamy way? When you can see the stars in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks? And you know that's not for anyone but you?

To a certain extent, it was too much; Red Hood was the protector of Crime Alley, Robin was the protector of Gotham, but Jason? Jason had never been anyone's protector, no one had seen him as if he hung the moon in the sky, no one had trusted him so sincerely.

No one had looked upon him with such affection since his mother's death, not even Bruce. Although, that could be due to how constipated his father was with emotions.

And this guy just decided to go for it? For no reason?

Could the trust be because he was Danny's only choice? A treacherous part of his head wondered. But Danny had trusted him before that, and the reaction looked real.

That worried him, how far was this pretty boy willing to go before he regretted it? What would happen when he realized that trusting Jason Todd wasn't worth it? After all he wasn't just Jason anymore, as much as he sometimes wished he was. Would he run? Will he fear him like everyone else in his life? Dreading the moment when he goes berserk and goes for blood? Or will he choose to stay against all odds?

And the worst part, will Jason be able to bear his decision?

For some reason, Jason hated to think about it. He didn't want to be the one to change the boy's perspective. He didn't want to be the one to turn out the stars in the sky. He didn't want to be the villain.

He was so tired of being cast as the bad guy, the person to blame, he was trying his best, dammit! Why couldn't anyone see it? Why when they saw Red Hood they didn't see little Robin who was his shadow?

"Jason, are you alright?" Danny asked with concern "I know it might be uncomfortable, I can try to fight the toxin on my own if you'd rather I stop touching you"

"No!" Jason's scream startled both of them, neither of them willing to admit how desperate it sounded to both of their ears. One because he did not want to bother and the other because he tried to ignore the event.

"No, it's not necessary" Jason cleared his throat, trying not to think about how bad it felt to tell the boy to go away "You don't make me feel uncomfortable, that's fine, and if it's helping I won't take that away from you."

"If you say so," Danny looked at him doubtfully, but if Jay wasn't willing to admit it then there was nothing he could do.

And that's when Jason realized how desperate he was for affection, how badly he needed someone just brushing his arm. It was surreal how soothing Danny's touch felt in his hand, like putting balm on an old scar.

As much as Dick had tried to fill that void of affection, Jason had sorely refused, the contact feeling strange, uncomfortable, yet welcome. And it wasn't his older brother's fault, the family situation was just awkward since he introduced himself as Red Hood, the pits didn't help either. Now that he technically had an excuse he couldn't bear not to take it and take advantage of the situation a bit.

I'm really touch starved, aren't I?

The vigilante questioned ironically, although without knowing it, Danny was thinking the same thing. Both of them had been deprived of such a basic right that the mere touch of another person felt like a roller coaster ride, better than the mystical "electrical connection" spoken of in romance books. Or the love at first sight that was mentioned in the songs.

Touching and hugging, along with the affection that comes from such actions were basic things that both had been deprived of for so long that their bodies actively sought them out, and now that they both had a valid excuse to initiate contact they had no plans to let go.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable?" Jason asked, in an attempt to return the favor "if you're just doing it to keep yourself away from the effects of the toxin that's fine."

"It's not that, it just feels right, you know?" Danny smiled.

For a few moments they were not Red Hood, nor Phantom, they were simply Jason and Danny, two normal people who sought affection from those around them like dehydrated people finding a spring in the middle of the desert.

"Yeah, I get it," he said, because he really did, though he didn't know if they were talking about the same thing.

"Love, love" sang the little bird in the window while he watched the scene, it seemed that he had liked the word so much that he just repeated it randomly.

"Well, I should go make breakfast for you, shouldn't I, little prince?" The vigilante quipped, if he was the knight then Danny would be the closest thing to a prince in a tower.

"Lead the way, my dear knight" Danny said happily, "we'll finally see your fabulous culinary skills in action."

"You've seen them before, with the soup," Jason scoffed.

"I thought that was more of a community job, but it's true that you were guiding the whole process," Danny hummed.

"Yeah, so ready to try a meal prepared entirely by me? There will be no slicing carrots this time," Jason assured him.

"Excuse me, my carrots had personality, okay?" Danny teased, remembering the moment he showed off his creation.

"I think you murdered their personality after cutting them, it looked like a massacre" the vigilante admitted.

"We can't all be Gordon Ramsay, and you said that they were fine!" The halfa protested offended.

"They were, for a newbie." Jason looked away, pretending he hadn't heard the offended gasp that came from the pretty boy.

"Oh, so this is how we're going to play? Okay, but I'm warning you that I'll check your chef's hat looking for a rat in it" Danny threatened him, if Jason had help ratatouille style he would know it.

"Are you accusing me of cheating? I don't need a chef's hat" Jason replied, a little offended.

"We'll get you one, every professional needs a chef's hat, and a 'kiss the chef' apron" Danny was quick to point out, those were basic elements for a kitchen. 

"That's quite a strong statement you know?" Jason asked, amused.

"It's not that I want to kiss you!" the halfa quickly denied, ignoring the laughter of his boss.

"So I'm not kissable enough huh? too ugly for you?" Jason teased moving closer to him.

"¡No! I'm not saying that either, you're cute, comfortable, you have perfect abs, and I'm absolutely sure you're also an excellent kisser- hell, I wouldn't object to kiss you" the halfa stammered.

"I'm just kidding, Danny." Jason raised his eyebrows with a smirk on his face.

"I completely knew that," Danny tried to assure, sounding as uncertain as he felt.

—-----------

"That class almost killed me" Amorpho complained under his breath as he left advanced physics, he was really going to kill Johnny, he hadn't entered an educational center in years, not counting the time he impersonated Danny.

"I know man, all the theory is too much" one of his classmates commented as he left the room next to him "although I'm surprised you asked so many questions, you're usually more quiet"

"Ah, I needed some guidance this time" Amorpho looked away, it was obvious that Danny was much better than him in that class, considering who his parents were.

"It's ok, we all have bad days" the student shrugged "you can join our study group if you want"

"Really? That would be nice." Even though he wasn't planning on impersonating Danny for so long, he could at least not mess up his grades in the meantime. And well, learning a little more about what was happening right now sounded interesting, even if it was math.

"Sure, by the way, those contacts are totally cool" stated the guy next to him "Where did you buy them?"

"Uh, I ordered them from a place quite far away" Amorpho said uncertainly, he had forgotten that his red eyes didn't fit Danny, that most of his classmates would have taken them as contact lenses was a relief "I don't know if they're still for sale "

"Gezz, that's really bad" the boy sighed "well, our group meets in the evenings, don't get caught by a villain in the meantime! It would be nice to have more people joining"

"I'll be there" Amorpho stated with a smile, if he was going to play student he might make some semblance of friends in the process, or at least entertain himself.

"Speaking of which, do you know where the drama club meets?" The ghost asked curiously after passing by a poster with large colored letters and a 'we are waiting for you!' written in glitter

"Sure, a friend of mine is inside, and you're lucky, our meetings don't really clash with each other, would you like me to guide you?" The boy questioned.

"That would be lovely" the ghost stated, Johnny had technically said that he could do anything, joining two college clubs was on the list.

"Great, I really didn't see you as a theater kid you know?" The boy perked up, apparently interested in the conversation "you always looked a bit sad back there, I thought you didn't like to socialize and that kind of thing"

"Yeah, a few things happened" Amorpho decided to avoid the topic "but I feel better now and I'm ready for some drama"

"That's amazing, dude" the boy smiled offering his hand "I'm Michael by the way, is nice to finally meet you"

"Nice to meet you Michael" Amorpho shook the offered hand "my name is A-Danny"

"A-Danny?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"I had a change recently" Amorpho shrugged “I'm still trying to get used to it”

"Oh, I understand mate" Michael nodded "that's great and completely understandable, some things need to be changed"

"Well said, I like to morph if it makes me feel better." Amorpho smiled, Michael seemed genuinely nice.

"I couldn't have put it better" Michael stated "now come on, I think drama club sign-ups start in a few minutes"

With that said, the boy and the ghost headed towards the club, one completely excited to finally do what he loved, and the other quite happy with what seemed to be a new friend.

And well, at the end of the day it looked like Danny had joined two new clubs and was fast becoming what seemed to be the best drama student the recruiters had ever found, on his way to being a protagonist; too bad the real Danny had no idea the attention his supposed counterpart was gaining.

—----------

Danny followed Jason into the kitchen, it's not like he could leave him alone while the effects of the gas were in his system anyway. Although he was worried that Jason would notice his fangs, hiding them quickly became uncomfortable and he felt the sudden urge to bite down on something.

"Danny, are you alright?" Jay asked a little worried when he saw the boy distracted again, he gently caressed the hand located on his wrist in an attempt to get the other's attention.

"Yeah, sorry" Danny decided he was going to let things happen naturally "weren't we about to rate your excellent five stars food?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Jason sneered, though he was distracted when he noticed Dog watching him from the living room "I didn't forget about you, girl."

Dog simply barked, debating whether to approach her owner and the stranger who currently seems to be holding his hand. He didn't feel aggressive towards her but something wasn't exactly right either.

"She's so cute" Danny smiled looking at the pitbull peeking out from the living room "Am I scaring her?"

"Something like that, it's a bit weird actually, but I'm not surprised she's hiding" Jason stated, Dog was rescued from a center that organized illegal fights so it wasn't surprising that she was suspicious of strangers, what was strange was that she approached more quickly than expected.

"Oh, maybe she sensed Cujo" the halfa commented nonchalantly.

"Cujo?" Jason raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"Yeah, he's my puppy," Danny smiled, happy to be able to talk about his puppy with someone else. Although calling Cujo a cub was still in doubt, considering that he could change the size of him to suit him.

So, technically Cujo wasn't a cub anymore, given his giant form which made him look much older, but at the time of death he was, and as far as Danny could assume he had never really given up his attitude as a cub. 

Whatever the case, he would always be Danny's pup, and Danny was fine with that. The day Cujo randomly decided to adopt him was one of the best memories he had.

"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed," the vigilante hummed.

"Yeah, I don't usually talk about him much because it's a bit of a reverse adoption case, you know?" Danny smiled "I didn't adopt Cujo, he adopted me and then he wouldn't let me go, he was actually a bit of a stray, I'm not sure why he decided to stay with me"

"You're interesting enough," Jason said happily, he could see why Danny would attract a dog, considering the crow he'd seen last night.

"By the way, where's your crow?" Jason questioned as he went over to give Dog some food, she was wagging her tail excitedly, completely ignoring Danny who had stuck to him like a barnacle.

"Poe? He is not technically my crow" Danny sighed "My roommate found him yesterday and he just started following me."

"That's amazing, he seemed pretty attached to you." Jason raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"But he is not mine, I'm sure he decided I'm not interesting enough anymore or something, you won't see him anytime soon" the halfa shrugged.

At that precise moment, a small crow flew into the room and happily landed on Danny's head, the halfa in question looked at him with a blank expression.

"You really love to contradict me" he affirmed seeing the small bird singing on his head.

"Oh look, looks like it wasn't such a long time after all" Jason snorted, Dog seemed to have decided to ignore the situation in question as she quickly ate what her handler had given her.

"Love! Love!" The crow affirmed moving his wings, he really loved the sound of the word.

"No, Poe, Danny, my name is Danny," the halfa tried to correct him, ignoring the stare Jason was giving him.

"Twinkcito!"  Poe corrected his supposed mistake, although it was obvious that he was making fun of the boy, he was smart enough to understand the reactions that his words caused and repeat them based on it.

"I give up" Danny muttered in frustration.

"He's not wrong" Jason said considering, "you really do have the complexion for it"

"Please don't encourage him" Danny begged.

"I'm not encouraging him, I'm just saying that if we take into account your complexion and the definition of the word, it just fits." Jason shrugged.

"Just go make the food already" Danny gave up on trying to reason with him, it was better to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing to distract him from the subject.

"Fine, fine, but since my hands are still trapped you're going to have to be my helper," Jason stated, heading into the kitchen.

"I don't know if you remember correctly Jay, but I made a massacre with the potatoes and carrots last time" the halfa said, a bit embarrassed.

"Of course I remember" that had been one of the most adorable expressions he had ever seen "But at that moment I had to guide everyone, now all my attention is on you"

Danny was suddenly nervous about having Jason's attention on him, he'd been tremendously proud to pull off an edible meal last time but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pull it off again.

"There's no need to be nervous, Doll" Jason assured him "I'll walk you through every step of the way, okay?"

"Okay, I can do it" Danny said out loud, in an attempt to give himself courage, it seemed that he really needed it that day.

"Kar, Kar!" Poe flapped his wings happily from his place on the boy's head.

"Thanks, Buddy." Danny smiled at the crow who had apparently decided to stick to him like a duckling.

"Well, I guess we also have to make sure your partner doesn't eat the ingredients" Jason muttered, looking at the crow.

Poe for his part yelled "Kar" at him, sounding completely offended, Jason simply conceded defeat, doubting they'd be able to get rid of him anytime soon.

"Well, are you ready to try the best meal of your life that definitely isn't made by a french rat?" Jason asked smiling.

"Yes, although I'm still doubting that you don't have one hidden in your hair, I think you have enough space" The halfa shrugged.

"Oh shut up and combine the ingredients I'm going to tell you, you're on duty to mix the batter and I'm going to make sure you taste some good pancakes today" Jason said.

"Mix? Aren't you going to use the batter on the box?" Danny asked curiously, the times Jazz had cooked for him she had used pre-made things, probably because it was easier.

"Of course not, you're going to have a real pancake experience, not whatever you've been eating up until now," Jason stated, although the boxed food tasted ok it was nowhere near the real thing made from scratch.

Jason didn't know it when he was a kid because Catherine didn't have the money for it, but most of his meals were simple, quick, or easy to prepare, he was mostly grateful to have something to eat if he was being honest.

But when Alfred patiently showed him how to cook, he began to enjoy it, to understand the difference between the two types of food and to enjoy the feeling of others tasting his creations, to the point that he ended up becoming an expert at it. He was tremendously proud to be one of the few who wasn't banned from the kitchen in the mansion.

He was glad to be the person to teach Danny that difference, when he saw the proud expression the boy was making for preparing something fairly edible he didn't think much of it at first sight, considering it mostly adorable.

But after thinking about it for a while he realized that maybe Danny just didn't know what it was like to cook your own food, that he'd had a time only eating fast or easy food, that no one had ever given him a full meal.

Jazz tried, but she didn't really know how to cook either, Maddie hadn't taught her. She tried with online tutorials but in the end she ended up mostly with fast or simple food for both of them.

Honestly, the conversation with the Alley Kids just confirmed his suspicions, usually people who eat well don't forget from one moment to another that they should eat, unless they're not really used to it.

So he was quite happy to say that Danny was a good helper in the kitchen, checking him every five minutes for a sign if he was doing it right or wrong, asking if he had any questions about anything in the process, and not afraid to ask for help.

"Jay, I don't know if I can do this" the boy in question complained looking at some strawberries that Jason had asked him to cut a few minutes ago.

"Do you want me to guide you on it?" Jason questioned happily, he always felt better while cooking.

"Can you do that? Wouldn't that be too much of a problem, all things considered?" Danny asked curiously, pointing to their hands that were still clasped.

"Not really" he said "but it can be a bit uncomfortable in this position"

Since Jason had managed to switch the "affected hand" from right to left when starting to cook (checking that Danny hadn't had any problems, of course) the process had been much easier.

Well, thankfully neither of them was doing badly working with their hands trapped, so he was easily able to point Danny to the correct method of cutting through the fruit without massacring it. Although the boy seemed very distracted during the process.

"The pancakes will be ready in a few minutes, I'd tell you to go sit in the dining room but, you know," Jason vaguely gestured at their connected hands.

"Don't worry, I don't mind waiting" the halfa told him nonchalantly, watching Jason cook was becoming one of his favorite activities after all. He gave off a completely different feeling than usual, he looked more relaxed and happy in general.

When they were finally able to move to the dining room table, each one of them had a plate of pancakes, Danny decorated them with strawberries and whipped cream while Jason settled with a simpler version of fruit and honey.

"Well? Are you going to try it?" Jason asked curiously and somewhat expectantly as he noticed Danny staring at his plate.

"It's just that they look so cute, I don't want to destroy them" Danny looked at Jason sadly, eating them felt like a crime.

"I'll make you others later" Jason shook his head in amusement "but you have to eat those first"

Eventually Danny worked up the courage to eat his pancakes. Jason freaked out the moment he saw his eyes watering.

"They're good" Danny made sure to affirm quickly wiping away the tears that were forming in his eyes after he saw how much he was worrying Jason, who seemed torn between paying attention and looking for ways to comfort him "very, very good"

It reminded him of the time Jazz made him his first meal, or when Lunch Lady scolded him and gave him a homemade sandwich, but somehow this felt better than both times.

How was it possible?

"It's okay, Danny," Jason gently stroked the hand that had returned to hold his arm as soon as they left the kitchen, "you're okay now."

Whether he was referring to the food or something completely different, no one could tell.

—------------

By the time they both finished their food, Danny was happily satisfied and strangely full. The moment he looked away from his plate he noticed something peculiar inside one of the rooms.

He approached the object curiously, practically dragging Jason with him into the room in question.

"Isn't that Red Hood's jacket?" Danny asked curiously looking at the clothes organized on the walls.

Jason cursed himself as he thought of something to say, maybe if he chose not to answer Danny would ignore it. He had been distracted by the matter of food and completely forgot that many of his things were in the house.

"And those are his combat boots" the halfa said excitedly, Danny perked up as he started pointing to different objects in the room. The weapons were obviously Hood's "There's only one explanation for this"

Jason tried to think of an excuse but he couldn't think of one, he assumed that was it, that was the end of his secret identity "Danny, the truth is that I am-"

"You live with Red Hood right?" Danny looked at him, trying to confirm his suspicions and the rumors of the Alley kids. 

"-living with Hood, certainly," Jason agreed. Not knowing the trouble he was getting himself into with those four words.

--------------------------------------

Annd tag time, I'm not going to lie it feels pretty weird to have this chapter so early but the sprints are really magical. This chapter was going to be even longer but I preferred to shorten it and include the rest as ideas for the next one. I hope you liked it!

In this case I have to clarify that Danny never broke contact with Jason during the whole chapter, when he said that he was his anchor he was being both figurative and literal. In general, being able to feel his heartbeat was calming him down a lot.

And the reason why Jason's food felt different is because it was 100% human, what Lunch Lady gives is usually fine, but the ectoplasm adds something weird to it as an extra, so yes, Jason was technically the first to cook him food from scratch

Sorry if you saw the first one, I kinda uploaded by accident haha

@skulld3mort-1fan@sorryiwonnoob@idfk-man10@avelnfear@criticaloverthinker@confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk@apointlessbox@mimilikey@thegatorsgoose@jaggedheart11@dyinggirldied@pyramaniac@akikkobara@thedragonqueen1998@lostlightandfoundcrazy@xye-chan@saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon@illusionwolfwriter24r8@littlefeather345@asphyxia778@amercurio@leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12@lyra689@meira-3919@quietlyscared@plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090@basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm@phantom-dc@luer-mirin@taniaundertaleau@cloriform@readerkayden@oddlydrawnpuppets@basementloser@little-green-asparagus@echoednonny@yummy-yummy-mmmbones@confusionchaos@ectoplasm024@autumnwulf@666deaddash999@redhoneysugarorange@blue-avis@sailor-goddess@satanicrutialspecialist

[eevees-hobbies]

no hate but i noticed you always use “like honey stuck to a honeycomb” as a way to describe pussy in every one of your smut fics and i just find it funny it’s like it’s become your signature now

This is so fucking funny because I had to go back and search through my shit to confirm this, and TECHNICALLY Nasty Girl & 1 Minute in Heaven are the ones that specifically mention honeycombs?

My other fics like Honeyed Kisses Against Tender Flesh and The Taste of You def. have a honey theme going on, though. I don't think there's more, though? (Says cautiously because I don't re-read my shit like that).

Writing smut is so funny because you'll really be sitting there trying to find ways to describe shit that 1) has been described so many times before and 2) can be described in limited ways.

I saw the fun debate yesterday on my dash about cum vs come (the answer is cum, btw) and it's just so real. You have no idea how many times where I'm editing my shit and I'm like, "Damn I used pussy 3 times in this paragraph, better swap one out for mound or cunt."

Sometimes, when I'm feeling really freaky I'll use the word nut in my fics and I'll feel bad about it. Not because nut isn't a good word ("please, nut on my face, Daddy" has such potential and we should talk about it) but because I know yall gonna hate it loooooooooool.

Anyway, sounds like YOU read enough of my shit to see patterns, anon, which makes ME the real winner here. You just keep coming back for more, eh?

Welcome to the Eevee-verse, where I use honey to describe your cum, where Suo is a fucking nut for you, and where Haruka Sakura reigns supreme. I hope you continue to enjoy the ride. Please take a jar of honey on your way out.

[writers-get-biters]

sooooo tired of feeling bad and shitty and stuck and miserable

fuck my relationship ocd i hate it so much and also fuck being forced to do stuff i dont want by people i dont want to be with sometimes (like now )they get into some sort of fucked up loop where i feel miserable because of stuff in my brain and then theres external stuff which also fucks it up more so then my disabilities become more disabling because obviously and then i get blamed and hurt more externally because of my disabilities that are not! my! fault! and then of course that makes internal shit worse so then im just stuck in the middle forced to pretend shit doesnt suck and actually im fine and actually everythings fine keep being "jokingly" mean to me and pushing my boundaries i dont care i get it its actually really okay if you say something to me that most other people i know offline wouldnt consider mean even though i have told you to stop its okay if you dont stop i guess i guess its fine if no one listens to me and i have to sit in miserable silence by myself because i dont even feel like doing anything that any of my ceters enjoy like drawing or our data entry projects or video games or writing and it doesnt matter i guess that im so stressed because since its from an arbitrary authoritative institution everyone is supposedly fine with that makes it totally okay and actually the real problem is me and i guess im the problem and reason why no one wants to talk to me or communicate with me the way i want to be talked to or otherwise communicated with yeah my bad i guess its all my fault and im supposed to just suck it up and stop complaining and also its creepy and wrong and bad i guess for me to try to cope with any of this the way that i want to and i guess yeah i need to and should be keeping it a secret because otherwise ill make everyone else uncomfortable and thats the worst possible outcome btw no person left behind unless its me in which case utilitarianism is always right and we cant give a shit about everyone yk like someone is always going to be miserable but we should prioritize the most people so if i mention kink (ew) or my other interests (ew) im a horrible really bad person actually because im making other people (more important than me. btw) uncomfortable and upset also i should ignore the fact that i am systematically and systemically being isolated from and kept away from people who might actually show understanding and kindness towards me or be in a similar position and extend the kind of support i desperately need but its cool because you keep saying youre only doing that because im "better than them" and actually youre helping me because "those people" are bad and wrong and harmful and they might make me (simultaneously innocent and guilty) do bad things like drugs that might offer a chance to alleviate some of my pain or transition to a bodymind i& want or be angry or just generally be a "bad person" and not be able to participate in the joys of continuing the chain of oppression and harm. but its fine because its for my benefit actually because you frame it as ""those people" have it so hard and theyre so unlucky (because theyre treated like shit by everyone which is true because people's actions are definitely a matter of "luck") and i just want to spare you from that" how kind of you wow youre so sweet and nice to me right now because i havent violated any of your rules yet what a great person you are because you let me be myself to a certain extent (a tiny little eensy-weensy extent but thats fine because its more than i deserve anyway) and since im being invited to participate in the continuation of oppression and pain it would be pretty rude for me to say no and if i did say no it would definitely justify treating me badly and doing all of the things you do to "those people" to me because im technically actually even worse than "those people" because i could have been normal i could have just accepted your rules (that were literally killing me to follow) (not that you noticed)

and also on the other hand the people arguing against you get to use me as their fun little trick-up-their-sleeve because obviously its ridiculous to treat someone like me the way that you have and will and i can be used as a perfect little pawn

[the ceter who wrote this switched out around here, but before they did, it asked that the others of us post this vent anyway if they were unable to finish or post it]

[misguidedasgardian]

hello! hope your day was well and the watching of the season finale was fun.

here is my rant for this episode lol. i always look forward to your commentary!!

> to start: not jace acting as if ulf and hugh were just regular everyday bastards like no bud, they are targaryen bastards (or at least i think ulf is, hugh confirmed he is). like had their moms been married and had them, they'd have a high claim than both him and his mom. and the projecting is crazy, like baela said, get it together and stand by your mom bro, you have uno jobs.

> daemon is literally a crazy man, like crazier than me on a normal everyday average day.

> also, if we went based on how the succession should've gone, plenty of people have a high claim to the throne like rhaenyra did (baela/rhaena through rhaenys). like many people have the means to challenge her, they just dont have the energy (thanks jaehaerys for not liking women??)

> aemond i swear is a woman beater. like if he is willing to lay a hand upon his sister...imagine if he had a wife and the way he talks down to his mom and helaena is oooo, i'd have him smacked silly. like im so glad alicent interceded for helaena because ... he just lost his damn mind.

> alicent is lowkey wishing she had to put up with aegon at this point (everyone is wishing the same lol)

> gwayne clocking cole was gold and criston cole's smartest line by far was something along the lines of: "perhaps all men are corrupt and perhaps honor blows away like mist in the morning." it kind of goes hand in hand with the quote from game of thrones that's something like "there's a beast in every man and he stirs when a sword is put in his face."

> didn't know we were wrestling in mud today and Tyland is as confused as me every episode.

> the acting kills me every time like no offense because i know i couldn't do better, but like the first episode of game of thrones had better acting like its good in this show but not the best like i swear sometimes they talk like robots or like theyre explaining the plot to us (which alicent did for no reason towards the end like just be evil to be evil. women can be evil too they don't always have to be kind and submissive.)

> these characters have become so unlikeable that i have to dig deep to find ones i like.

> ulf has no table manners and not everyone mentioning they aren't of noble birth but like technically, they are like they're as much royal as jace the only difference is his mom kept him and his grandfather allowed it so he should count his blessings.

> alys is carrying and she makes daemon more likeable and i rather watch them and their friendship than daemon and rhaenyra's weird codependency daddy issue relationship (they are making me hate targcest. matter of fact, all the targayens are making me hate everything about them.)

> helaena gets my cheers because she told aemond who was boss and stuck it to him and proved she has a voice and just chooses when to use it. like im betting she wishes aegon was better because at least he was moldable unlike aemond like you could manipulate aegon to do what you wanted. aemond is a lose cannon that needs to be put out.

> corlys without rhaenys is making me ill because he doesnt care that he abandoned his kids, alyn and addam to start a whole new family and left them to fend for themselves as kids like finish what you started. im sick of seeing bastards left and right and watching their families move on without them like finish what yous started if you can!!

> rhaena's safari quest is like watching an ad for something like if i see her quest again, i might cry.

> season 2= story with no plot

sorry for the essay friend, i feel bad every time you respond to it because its so long, but hey, its the last episode so the rants can become shorter now and less time consuming!!

p.s> otto being locked in a tower when everyone is trying to reach him is so funny.

It's fine, I feel like we all got so much to say, we are so confused, angry, sad, Idk what I'm feeling anymore

>You know what? I'm with Jace on this. Rhaenyra said it herself "they think we are closer to gods than to men, but they say that because of our dragons, without them we are like everyone else", then let's go to Jace, who realises he is a bastards on a very early age, think about the fact that the only way to comfort him, is Rhaenyra assuring him that "you are a Targaryen, that's all that matters", and the only "legitimization" he had was his blood, the fact that he (a bastard) could ride Dragons THAT ONE WAS HATCHED TO HIM ON HIS CRIB, then a war breaks out because of the usurpation, which one of its many "justifications", is that Rhenyra "has no true heirs", and his bastarcy had been called out MANY TIMES BY MANY IMPORTANT PEOPLE, and then.... AND THEN HE SEES THIS "COLLECTION" of bastards like him who can also ride dragons? So yeah, I'd be bitter too, and super insecure, because bastards get KILLED in this world, but I also see your point, but the fact that two of them had the white hair that he does not? dang

>Daemon... yesh, whatever makes you sleep at night dude, like, if you needed an Ayahuasca trip to come to the realisation that you need to support your wife... go for it my dude jejeje,whatever ticklled your fancy JAJAJA

>Yeah but that fizzles because of Viserys was made king... so... no point on resurfacing Rhaenys' claim

>I said it before... they DESTROYED their character, I thought his family was going to be what makes him a great villain, an antagonist even, I DO IT FOR MY FAMILY FOR MY MOTHER WHO DEFENDED ME AND MY SISTER WHO IS AN INNOCENT, why couldn't they keep that in? like in S1E9? it makes it much more attractive, and powerful AND LIKEABLE. I LIKED HIM IN SEASON ONE! i found him such an interesting character! where that was left, idk.

>Alicent is just... incoherent, madder then tripping Daemon

>I found that scene useless and boring, and??? like... why? why there? it was like, they filmed it, they made Criston say some "good" lines (?) and then they didn't know where to put the scene so they just threw it somewhere not to waste it? Why he is recriminating him about fucking his sister (IN FRONT OF EVERYONE? DUMB C*NT) NOW? now after like four chapters since we know him? (and he found out) no sense

>Like I said, they cut out two chapters, so m guess is that it was part of something THAT MADE MORE FUCKING SENSE? hahaha I found it weirdly likeable (more at the end)

>I have nothing to say about the actors actually, they are fine to watch I guess, they are victims on this

>They have nobody sacred, they destroyed Alicent, BUTCHERED Aemond, (because despite what TG has to say... TEAM GREENS ARE THE VILLAINS DUDE (in the books), and they manage in season one to actually have fans that are TG!!! and people who enjoyed their characters!!! I could get behind cult Alicent, because she had nothing else so she turned to the gods, so, I guess that's fine BUT ITS NOT FINE BECAUSE IT WAS FOR NOTHING???

They made TB boring and indecisive, butchering them too?? BORING, IDK, if I was Rhaenyra, Alicent would have been DEAD to me the second I realized what happened... specially after she tortured me, diminished me, bullied me, and put my BABIES in risk for all those years... BUT SHE IS WORTH A LIFE-RISKING TRIP FOR? the septa scene was just straight out of a PARODY (calling it fanfiction is an insult to us) and jsut not speak about this last encounter (GO NYRA, MOCK HER, SCOFF AT HER), but what the writters did to them both, is a crime punished by the gods

>Ulf, I don't even want to talk about that clown, I hate him, but Nyra c'mon, what did you expect?

>I have little thoughts about Alys... I really thought they were going to take her character in a complete different direction, Idk how to feel about her, I like that she could be like a "grey" character, like a Loki of some sorts, like "the end justifies the means", yes I'm going to mentally torture you for weeks, only to make you come to the realisation that you must protect and fight for your wife, like, thanks I guess? jejejeje I'm intrigued of what are they going to do with Aemond and Alys... those trips are going to be... DIABOLICAL hahahaha

>Yes I agree, if they had placed ONE scene with Helaena visiting Aegon... she would have been my top three favorite characters in the season, definitely, what Phia has done with her character (WITH SO LITTLE) makes her worthy of a FUCKING OSCAR, and GRRM said it himself, she is one of the characters who he liked more portrayed then in his own writting so, yeah, PUT HIM ON HIS PLACEEEEE, she was like "fuck around and find outttt" hahah

>Yeah, I thought Corlys was going to pull trough this as a decent man, but what he had done and will do? motherfucker, that's all I have to say, you did not deserve Rhaenys, nor those kids, and his house will collapse in front of hiseyes. (I hope they give Addam the place of his brother in the story taking the lead on House Velaryon) Corlys (like Otto) deserve everything that's coming their way, I wrote it on HOTW, he and Otto sank their teeth into a Targaryen of their choice, and they ripped them apart.

>Yeah, Daemon in Harrenhal all over again, It doesn't help that I don't like her at all, look, I'm not the prettiest doll in the store, but I don't like to "watch her", and thinking about what will happen in the Essos crossing, adding to the fact that she will claim a dragon, infuriates me and hasn't even happened yet, she is behaving like a spoiled brat and just... she bores me, Daemon I get it... (FOR SOCIAL REASONS I'M KIDDING), Baela is hanging by a thread, they must give her something to do besides having scenes with Jace. I enjoyed her scene in moondancer, but like the Rhaenys' scene... was for shock value, and not that important to the plot...

>This was all over the place, I just keep writing and writing this and something else always comes up

You know what? i was so fucking angry, about to go to bed angry, and this actually helped me to "put my idead in order", I really hope you can read this noonie! really, I was all over the place, and this somehow soothed me.

HAHAHA Otto! where is he? can't imagine where... he said he was going to the Tyrells? so I don't know who he could have crossed on his way there since they send Tyland to Essos (in the leaks they say it was gonna be him dealing with the triarchy). I enjoyed that part, they gave the triarchy faces, and that gives them a depth that... I weirdly liked.

MUAHAHA

[tigirl-and-co]

The Heart Lies Behind the Ribs

Hiiiiii everybody it is Yamgeta week, as decided by @dballzposting! I had considered this ship maybe once back in like 2014 and then never thought about it again. But god knows I'm such a sucker for this type of stuff, so I wrote a fic! Yippie!

This is assuming a pre-established relationship! I don't know how to write build-up, so you get a fic set in the stages of a relationship after they've already moved in together and have been together for quite some time.

Proofread, but still technically a first draft. Apologies for the clunkiness, but I wrote it in a fever pitch after being beset by the idea literally before I got out of bed.

Please enjoy!

The Heart Lies Behind the Ribs

"Get up."

Yamcha had been relaxing on his couch, watching Dirty Jobs and scratching Puar around the base of his neck while he napped on the man's lap. He craned his neck to look behind him at Vegeta, the man who issued the command.

Gently moving Puar off his lap, Yamcha stood up and stretched. At least four vertebrae popped. As he looked over at Vegeta, he realized the shorter man had his armor on. Historically? Not a great sign...

"What's up, man?" Yamcha had learned that it was better not to try to lead Vegeta in a conversation; he'd say what he wanted to say with or without his prompting. And to be honest, he didn't want to bring up the armor, just in case. Being able to play at naïvety hadn't worked yet, but it was bound to someday!

Vegeta fixed him in an icy glare, which stopped affecting Yamcha after he realized that's just how the man's face looked normally. "Go put your gi on and meet me outside."

"Wh-Huh?" Yamcha wasn't stupid. Yamcha knew that all this meant Vegeta wanted to spar. Yamcha didn't want to have his entire ass caved in by his superpowered boyfriend.

Or, at least, not on the battlefield.

He rubbed the back of his head in the way he knew Vegeta found cute. Maybe if he was cute enough he could avoid his fate. "Vegeta, I really don't think you'll get much out of training with me! You're like wayyyyy above me, y'know?"

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose in a face that once terrified Yamcha, but that he now found pretty cute. It meant Vegeta was trying really hard not to show what he was feeling.

"Tch. Idiot. Flattery will get you nowhere." He crossed his arms. "Besides, this is for your benefit. I'm sick and tired of you being unable to defend yourself!"

Instinctively, Yamcha put his arms out in a defensive/placating gesture. "I mean, I'm still stronger than most of what hangs around on earth... Unless more aliens show up I'm safe, and if more do show up, it's not like I'll be useful."

Vegeta immediately scowled, hard, looking almost as fearsome as the first day they met and startling Yamcha. "That's exactly the kind of attitude that got you killed by a damn saibaman! I refuse to suffer a mate so weak any longer! Go get your gi on, and meet me outside."

Vegeta stormed out the front door, and Yamcha could sense him standing a ways away from the house.

Suddenly, a small voice piped up from behind Yamcha. "I'm glad he's not evil anymore, but Vegeta can still be really scary when he's mad!" Puar had apparently woken up from all the racket and stuck his head just above the back of the couch. Cute.

Yamcha let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Yeah... But it's kind of nice, I guess. To have somebody actually worried about me like that." He let out a little signature 'Heh.'

Puar gave him a look that managed to mix both fondness and exasperation. "Hey, what about me? I care about you, Yamcha!" He smiled wider. "Anyway, you should probably go do what he says, he seemed really serious this time!"

Yamcha smiled back. "Yeah, you're right. Besides, I could use the exercise! A little training never hurt anyone."

"With Vegeta?"

"Hm. Yeah, true."

And with that, Yamcha shrugged and headed to his room to change. His gi was folded neatly into a drawer, at Vegeta's insistence. He hated mess, Yamcha had found out. He felt it was important to know where everything is, in case of emergency.

~~~

Yamcha stepped outside, tightening his belt. Vegeta was waiting back near the tree line, arms folded and as neutral an expression as the man ever gave.

"Hmph. Good of you to finally try training for once, Animal." It was a nickname Yamcha didn't care for at first, but over time he realized Vegeta meant it in a half demeaning, half complimentary sort of way. The same way he gave every compliment.

Sure it originally started as just another way to call him a lower lifeform and mock him for the wolf theming, but over time it morphed into a somewhat endearing term. Yamcha had heard Goten call people who were doing really well 'beasts' on occasion, and he figured it was probably the same sort of concept. Wild and cool. Untameable.

"I thought you might just crawl back into your den and wait out the storm," he egged on further.

Yamcha smiled back at his partner. "And lose out on one-on-one time with His Royal Highness? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

This drew a snort and a smug grin from the alien. The promise of training always brightened his mood, and his outburst from earlier was already fading away. "Always with the flattery..." Vegeta moved his feet into proper fighting position, striking a pose that showed him for the ambush predator he was. "It's not going to make me go any easier on you, you know!"

Yamcha braced himself, both physically for Vegeta's first attack and mentally for the hours of this ass beating he was going to have to endure. "Ha! Bring it on, you pampered prince!"

Oh, the things he does for love.

Surprisingly, the first two hours went pretty well! Vegeta allowed Yamcha to get a few good hits in, never dishing out more than Yamcha could handle. There was plenty of stopping so that Vegeta could demonstrate something, and then Yamcha could try it out.

Then it happened.

A kick delivered at just the wrong angle and at just the wrong place and with just the wrong amount of force snapped Yamcha's lower left rib.

He went down.

Vegeta knew what happened, he could pick up on the horrible sound of cracking bone as easily and perfectly as a pianist could pick out middle G.

It was what he was raised into.

The panic set in almost immediately. Vegeta had no idea what humans could survive. Saiyans could recover from almost anything that didn't directly stop their heart or lungs, but he knew humans weren't so resilient.

After he recovered from the shock he was at Yamcha's side almost instantaneously. Vegeta knelt down next to Yamcha, who was curled up in a twitching ball in the dirt.

He gently placed one hand on Yamcha's shoulder, and tried to get his other into the spasming ball of flesh, just below the ribcage.

"Yamcha, listen to me." Vegeta kept his voice calm, but there was no disguising his worry. "You need to uncurl. If your muscles spasm around the broken bone, it's harder to repair."

He heard that bit while he was in a healing tank when he was eight.

Slowly, ever so goddamn slowly, Yamcha allowed himself to be straightened out and laid flat on his back. Vegeta wasn't sure where to go from here.

Vegeta, still kneeling, desperately wracked his brain for anything he could remember about treatments on earth. Every now and again someone would come out to treat a player during one of Yamcha's matches, but it was the off-season. No one would be at the stadium.

Bit by bit, Yamcha calmed down as the pain subsided. He saw Vegeta at his side, face frozen in panic. It was a face he didn't wear often, and Yamcha was glad for that. He reached out his hand and gently grabbed Vegeta's wrist.

"Hey."

Vegeta snapped back to reality and looked down to see Yamcha smiling softly. "It's okay. I'm not gonna die." He released his grip and then patted Vegeta's hand. "It wasn't even one of the important ribs anyway."

Vegeta stared humourlessly and allowed himself to sit.

"How do I fix this?" he asked, both of them knowing he meant not only 'How do I help you?' but also 'I'm sorry.'

Yamcha wanted to let out a small chuckle of reassurance, but figured a broken rib would make that a bad call.

"You wouldn't happen to have a senzu bean on you, would ya?" He knew, of course that neither of them did. He also knew that Vegeta probably didn't know where the hospital was.

Immediately Vegeta stood up straight. "I can't believe I almost forgot about the damned beans!" He looked down at the man still lying in the dirt, eyebrows now knitted together. "I'll be right back."

"WAIT!"

Yamcha sucked in a sharp breath; yelling like that was not a good idea. "H-Hold on, man! You can't just go zipping up to Korin's Tower and demand some beans!"

Vegeta looked down at him, unimpressed. "And why not?"

Smiling up at his boyfriend and accidental assailant, Yamcha answered "Because you have to climb it first, or Korin won't give you any." He patronizingly flumped his hand onto the other man's shoe before continuing.

"Plus, you have to be polite about it, and I know you're not up for that!"

Vegeta scowled, but it seemed almost good-natured as far as Vegeta scowls went. Maybe it was relief that Yamcha was feeling well enough to tease him, maybe it was just the thought of a challenge making its way to his brain, but either way he seemed much more relaxed.

"I am perfectly capable of being polite."

The snicker that left Yamcha's lips hurt just a bit, and after he winced he cocked an eyebrow. "Even if Yajirobe is there?"

Vegeta sat back down, arms crossed, and refused to answer.

He looked at his mate, and let out a fond sigh. "We're going to have to do something about your rib."

"Yeah, yeah, in a bit. It's a really nice day out, though. Look at how blue the sky is!"

It was a simple ploy, one that wasn't even meant to fool Vegeta, more a sort of way to ask him to lay down. It worked, of course. Always did.

And so, the prince of all two Saiyans lowered himself to the dirt and laid beside his damaged goods. He rested his hand on top of Yamcha's and looked up at the sky.

"Hmph. I suppose it is an intriguing shade..."

[charmedreincarnation]

to the last anon, how i wish i had the same problem as yours😭 i’m not ridiculing you at all. I’m so happy that you entered the void and i hope after charm’s answer you realise how fun it is to be, where you are. You can be anywhere, everywhere. (totally didn’t steal that from a movie lol)

If you end up seeing it, and if you don’t mind, can you tell us how did you tap in?

I know it’s useless to vent and i know no one can physically do it for me. I know only i have the power to change my life. I promise you if you were to quiz me im your A plus student on paper. All my life i have been that. When it comes to practical things, i am terrified. I won’t go into my story but charm, how do i explain to you that i know everything there is to know. I truly believe that if i desire something then i’m meant to have it.

I don’t want to sound corny but i have always prayed to God asking for a “do-over” because the mistakes i made were hella silly but drastically changed my life and mind you, i used to specify the fact that i don’t want to start a new chapter in this book. I actually, truly want like a “new book” if it makes any sense. I want to be a drastically different person. I always prayed for it even though i knew just how crazy and illogical it sounded (if i were to tell anyone about it)

And guess what? i found out about the void. I couldn’t believe my eyes. God listened to me. I have the ingredients now. I can’t beg him to bake the cake for me. I want to do it myself but i genuinely wonder why i haven’t been able to tap in yet. (I have been “seriously” trying countless times, i persist in the knowing i’m here for a reason and i’m meant to have my dream life) I know anything is possible.

Coming to my technical issue:

I affirm, focus on my breathing. I feel the symptoms. I get this intense pressure around my third eye. I feel like i’m floating, my head is spinning. I twitch a little (not a lot, i used to, but luckily i manifested them away) Sometimes i visualise i’m in the water, floating. When that doesn’t help or gets distracting, i just focus on the black in my eyes. I get to this stage and i think i know i am already in but i never am. I persist at least for an hour but nothing.

(This was my spiral era that used to happen a lot. I don’t do this anymore)

I think after the one hour mark, i get impatient i’ll be honest. I feel beaten because i did “everything” right so why didn’t i make it. I spiral. I get myself together and try again. I remind myself i’m god and again, I get to the symptoms part and i just stay there. Like i am stuck on the same floor and can’t make it to the rooftop (if i were to explain this in layman’s terms)

I cannot go on like this anymore. I can’t wake up in the same bed tomorrow. I don’t want to. I know i am not doing anything wrong when i attempt for the void. What do i do😔

You’re doing everything right, but I’ve learned that even better than discipline is just natural fulfillment . I actually changed my mind when I say discipline is better than motivation. I still agree with that statement but even better than that is just feeling happy doing what you do. No one is forcing you to meditate for hours if it just makes you angry by the end of it. I also personally hate meditations and only do it for basic breathing practices, but I have stuck to intention, daydreaming, and scripting, and trying other methods out of curiosity, such as the void.

But babe, It should feel natural and not forced. You shouldn’t be doing anything you wouldn’t be doing if you didn’t know about the law. You’re just reminding yourself you’re trying to get something which isn’t the goal. you just want to feel what it would be like to have those desires and receiving it in the 3D is a nice bonus :)) go back to the beginning, start from there and then apply the law. You should feel free, or (maybe feel “apathetic”, it’s different from everyone.) but if you’re feeling stress it’s because you’re doing what you think you should be doing, not what you want to do. You understand the law which you emphasized so you know you’re okay and everything is yours. Why would you give yourself stress knowing that and knowing anything you do (even if that’s nothing if you so desire) will work out in your favor.

[compacflt]

my apologies if this is too simple or juvenile or personal a question but HOW did you become such a proficient writer? and do you have any tips or pointers to keep in mind? i know you must do a lot of reading and a lot of writing, but your skill is just incredible to me. your prose!! your cadence!! when we get around to talking about it is genuinely one of the best things i've ever read and i'd eat it if i could!!!

this ask was so sweet thank you!! rly made my day when i needed a boost. Hope you don’t mind i took a couple days to think about it cause no one’s ever asked me for writing advice before

idk how i became a “proficient” writer bc I really don’t write that much. something about my fic gave me brainworms and i went into overdrive but that’s…not my usual MO. which is why it’s weird for me too. admittedly i am studying english/creative writing as my second major at uni, but i haven’t learned anything in any of my classes you couldn’t learn by just reading and writing on your own. honestly i should’ve stuck with my IR major instead, i find structured cw classes a complete waste of time. but here are some little tips i thought of that would’ve helped ME:

This is more a “do as I say not as I do” because I’m really bad at habits like this, but keep a diary. You can write about the big events (went to the store, did homework, got laid etc.) but that’s boring—focus on the details (watched someone at west side market throw a glass bottle of olives at a rat, broke a pen and permanently stained my dorm desk and won’t get my deposit back which pissed me off because I move out in a week, this guy’s breath smelled like lemon pledge and it made me wonder if he drank window cleaner before kissing me etc.). Real life is really interesting! How can you write about interesting real life in an interesting way? It’s a good way to practice. You don’t have to do a big reflection at the end of the day or anything. It’s okay to jot down something you saw & then immediately forget about it. It’s the act of figuring out how to translate life into words that’s important

If you type, learn how to type FAST. This is just my experience, but I think typing faster makes your cadence, clause length, dialogue, IDEAS flow better/more naturally. We think in words/sentences, not letters.

This is a super lame tip that’ll make you roll your eyes, but read poetry. Poetry is all about how words/ideas/images sound and interact with each other. Don’t get hung up on one poet—im not really recommending any for precisely this reason—read poetry you love (for me, Ada Limón, Jack Kerouac, Frank O’Hara, ghazals etc) AND read poetry you hate (for me, Rupi Kaur, Emily Dickinson, Whitman, etc)! Read all genres you can get your hands on. (I think there are like “great poetry anthologies” you can find for free online if u don’t know where to start. Also you can’t go wrong with subscribing to/reading a variety magazine like the NYer. It’s pretentious but it exposes you to all kinds of weird topics, ways of writing about them, etc.) Figure out how certain combinations of words and punctuations make you FEEL, and why, and why the writer chose (or not) to make you feel that way. Figure out which literary sounds you like and which ones you don’t. For me, i figured out that I REALLY like alliteration, comma splices, zeugmas, the rule of three, and

“he’s [verb]ing again… yeah compacflt’s characters are [verb]ing again… big shocker”

If you have an idea for a piece, figure out what it is you really want to get out of it—to say something? to experiment with a different style? to see your fav characters do something? to have fun?—and then figure out how, on a technical level, you should write to match that goal (this is where the poetry training comes in handy). If you’re just writing to have fun, don’t listen to any writing advice (incl. mine), because most of it is bullshit and over-generalized and will make you feel bad about yourself. Just take the advice that you think will work for what YOURE trying to write.

But if you’re writing to explore some political idea, then you should think about HOW to best write about that idea. What would be a convincing story/allegory/scene to engage with this idea vs. not convincing. I talk on this blog all the time about how disappointed I am that my very-adult-grown-up attempt to deal with the dynamic of “immovable internalized homophobia vs unstoppable falling in love anyway” is rendered a little childish/immature by some pretty unconvincing plot points like the characters buying a house together—I really should have considered how that plot point would interact with the characterizations I’d built already (hint: poorly). You can think of writing as kind of a military structure if that helps—you have strategy on the overarching campaign (plot/character growth/allegory/theme) level, the battle (scene that advances the above) level, and the tactical (sentence-level construction/syntax/wording) level. They all have to work together. If a scene is failing to properly engage with the idea you’re trying to convey, you’re losing a battle that will weaken the overarching campaign. Same thing if you choose a weird word in a sentence/write in a style or tone that’s weirdly out of place with your idea—it makes your engagement with the theme/idea less convincing. just try to be purposeful and consider your strategy on all levels of your work as you’re writing it!! At the very least it’ll make editing easier lol.

But then again when I read my own writing from just a couple months ago I cringe out of my skin, so like—just also accept that it’s a process and we’re all just making it up as we go along. Be proud of being embarrassed of your old work, because it means you’re growing. Own that shit. When I finished writing WWGATTAI i thought it was the best thing I’d ever written, and maybe it was. But since the day I finished working on it, it’s the worst thing I’ve written since then. That’s a great feeling. Not to be like writing grindset obviously bc it’s supposed to be fun—but if what you want is to get better at writing, the strategy is to WRITE a whole bunch of shit, and then own your embarrassment about how much you’ve grown since you started. And know you’re still always growing and learning. there should never be any “goals” where skills are concerned 👍🏽