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One Day at a Time - Chapter 4 - Gestation

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel Miller x f!OFC, Joel & Ellie, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff, I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

~*~

He’s browsing at the trading post when he sees Charlie again. He’s checked off 14 more days in his little calendar, and each time he picks up the pen, it stirs a bittersweet feeling of anticipation and sheer terror in his gut.

He’s picking over the trades, looking for new sneakers for Ellie, when his eyes fall on something else.

Footed pajamas, impossibly tiny, the little plastic price tag still clipped to the sleeve. His hand drifts over the yellow fabric, faded but minky soft. Warm. Good for winter.

Sarah had pajamas like this once…a sleep suit with a hood and little round ears peeking up from the top. He hasn’t thought about that outfit in…well, decades. The memory of her toddling toward him with those silly little ears poking up from her downy head is so vivid that he can almost hear her trill of laughter and he has to lean on the table to catch his breath, the yellow onesie still clutched in his hand.

“Joel? Are you okay?”

Charlie’s voice comes from over his shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie, and he turns around.

“Yeah…yeah just, uh…yeah, m’fine. What’re you doin’ here?”

He hides the pajamas behind him, balling them up in one large fist.

She holds up a white package. “Heard they had TP. Figured I’d better get down here and snag a roll before it was all gone. You?”

“Lookin’ for stuff for Ellie.”

“Find anything good?”

“She won’t think so.”

Charlie smirks. “Teenagers, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, shoving the onesie deep into his bag and making for the counter. He drops off a sack of old clothes into the donation bin, all the stuff Ellie has outgrown, and watches as Charlie does the same with her trades.

They find themselves outside, the warmth of late spring making everything smell fresh and green. Charlie’s button-down shirt floats over her jeans in such a way as to hide her midsection, but her proportions have changed. Her face is fuller, her breasts are swollen, and her skin looks so soft and smooth and—

He coughs and looks away, feeling a brief wash of shame for noticing her. Again.

“So you’re, uh…still…”

“Yeah…I’m still,” she says.

“That’s good,” he says, and means it. “Feelin’ okay?”

She shrugs. “A little tired…but yeah. I feel better. So far, so good, I guess.”

He nods thoughtfully and bites his lip, thinking of the calendar next to his bed. He can almost hear the days falling away.

“Look, I…uh…I shoulda said somethin’ before now. I…know I haven’t been the most…uh…I’m not trying to get out of…anything.”

She blinks up at him, brow furrowed, waiting for him to make sense. He winces, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I wanna help,” he tries again. “However I can. I know it’s not easy goin’ it alone,” he says, looking down at the bag with Ellie’s clothes and the onesie tucked at the bottom. Then he’s thinking of Sarah, of long nights spent pacing and rocking and soothing.

“You’ve done enough.”

“Oh,” he chokes out. “Uh, I, uh…s’pose I deserve that.”

Her eyes widen, cheeks turning a faint pink. Now it’s her turn to fumble her words.

“Oh…I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…you’ve been good. You’ve helped. I–shit. I’m sorry.”

There’s a painfully awkward silence as this sinks in and he bites back a smirk.

“We’re pretty fuckin’ bad at this, huh?”

“Yes,” she sighs. “We are.”

This admission seems to ease something between them. Before he can lose his nerve, he continues.

“Could I come to your next appointment? Is that somethin’ people still do?”

She nods slowly, considering this. “I have one next week. It’s not very exciting, but…you could come with me.”

“I’d like that.”

“I’m not sure you will,” she says. “The midwife is…intense.”

“I’ve heard,” he says. “I think I can handle it.”

~*~

He can’t handle it.

The midwife, Joanie, is cold and abrupt and downright abrasive. He can’t imagine this person welcoming anyone, let alone his future child, into the world. He wants to put his arm around Charlie, turn her around, and tell her they’ll find someone else.

But he can’t. Jackson has one midwife. And the town doctor is a 76-year-old man who “doesn’t do babies”.

The woman is dressed in a long, flowing caftan, gray hair pulled neatly into a braid down her back. She looks like a hippie but her eyes are sharp, and her tongue is sharper.

“You brought the boyfriend this time,” she says as Charlie settles on the makeshift exam bed, a chaise lounge with a sheet draped over it. Joel can’t help but notice that Charlie doesn’t bother correcting her.

“You can sit,” Joanie says to him, gesturing to the chair next to the chaise. When he doesn’t move, she throws her hands up. “Or keep hovering. Whatever.”

Joel crosses his arms and barely restrains a snarl. Charlie shoots him a look as she slides her unbuttoned jeans down to her hips.

I told you.

The woman performs a cursory physical exam in silence. It’s obvious they’ve done this routine several times, and neither seems to feel the need to explain it to Joel.

The midwife is frowning, digging into Charlie’s belly with pointed, demanding fingers, feeling around until Charlie winces. Joel clenches a fist at his side, resisting the urge to snap at the woman for being so careless and rough.

“Growth is on track. You’re measuring at sixteen weeks.”

She pulls out a speaker attached to a wand–he vaguely recognizes it from appointments with Sarah’s mother at the beginning–and a tube of gel. She covers Charlie’s lower abdomen with goop and presses the wand in, levering it this way and that, seeking the sound of a second heart. There’s a long moment where he thinks they won’t find it–that this will be the day it all goes to hell.

But then there’s a familiar but distant echo, a rapid pulse of sound, the memory coming back to him across thirty-five years and an apocalypse. It’s the sound that once filled a small room in a sterile hospital. He remembers it as a black-and-white flutter on the ultrasound screen, fast and vigorous and alive .

Mine , he thinks dimly. He sinks into the chair because his legs no longer want to hold him.

The midwife, satisfied she’s found what she’s looking for, holds the wand steady and looks at her watch. It’s the shortest fifteen seconds of Joel’s life and he doesn’t want it to end.

“One-twenty-six. You can sit up.”

Charlie does. Joel notices she doesn’t bother trying to button her jeans. He vaguely remembers Sarah’s mother needing soft, stretchy things, and wonders if Charlie has anything like that.

“Any cramping?” Joanie asks, flipping through a file.

“No.”

“Still bleeding?”

Charlie hesitates for a fraction of a second. “A little. Not every day.”

Joel’s eyes snap to her at that, but she’s not looking at him.

The midwife frowns. “Given your advanced maternal age and your history, I don’t like to hear that.”

Her sharp eyes focus on Joel. “You’re, what, sixty?”

“Fifty-seven.”

“Mmm. Sperm quality after fifty is a crapshoot,” she sighs. “You’re looking at an increased risk of genetic defects.”

Joel grips the arm of the chaise hard enough to rip it from the frame. He’s going to kill this woman.

“Look, I’ll be honest with you,” she continues. “Maternal-fetal medicine in this country was a shitshow before cordyceps, and the pandemic might as well have sent us back to the dark ages. I’ve seen one death for every five live births. Maternal survival rates are better, but only slightly.”

She’s looking at Charlie. “I can’t tell you you’re going to be okay. I can’t tell you your baby is going to be okay. I can only tell you what I think will help your chances and then…we wait and see.”

Charlie nods, her face drawn into a flat, emotionless mask as she takes this in.

“No more patrols. Light duty work only. No lifting. I can give you a doctor’s note for the council to reassign you if your regular job is too strenuous. No sex,” she says, looking pointedly at Joel. “And if the bleeding gets worse–if it’s bad enough that you need a pad–you go on bed rest immediately.”

Her eyes shift back to Joel. “Stress is a baby-killer. Your job is to take care of her and make sure there is no stress. None. If you can’t do that, you need to find someone who can.”

He grinds his teeth so hard he thinks he hears a molar crack.

“We’re done. I’ll see you next week,” she says dismissively.

And then Charlie’s off the chaise and ushering him to the door before he can open his mouth to give the woman hell and they’re stepping out into the rain. They make it to the end of the street before he stops her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he says, hating the way his voice shakes, recognizing the animal clawing within his chest as barely contained rage.

“I did–I warned you,” she frowns. “She’s rough.”

“No–I mean, the bleeding. You said you were fine.”

“I was. I am,” she says flatly. “You heard the heartbeat.”

“S’not what I meant and you know it,” he hisses.

Her lip curls in a snarl. “You fucked me once . You think that gives you the right to—to everything?”

He blinks. “That’s not what I said.”

“Then what are you saying?”

When he can’t answer, she turns and walks away. The sight of her retreating back hunched against the rain only serves to stoke the fire of his anger further. Her shirt is getting soaked.

Where the fuck is her jacket? She’s going to get sick.

He catches up and grabs her by the arm, turning her around and holding her in place.

“You heard her. How am I supposed to take care of you if you won’t fuckin’ let me?”

Only then does he see the tears in her eyes, rain mingling with salt on her cheeks. Guilt stabs at him and he loosens his grip.

“I don’t know,” she hisses. “I can’t just…be that person with you. I don’t fucking know you! I don’t even know your middle name, but we’re having a fucking baby. Or maybe we’re not, because our odds are shit, and I should have taken care of this when I had the chan–”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, he pulls her to him, wrapping her in his arms until he’s holding her in the middle of the street. “Stop. Please.”

She shudders but doesn’t push him away. The sky rumbles, threatening a downpour.

He ducks his head, speaking softly. “It’s Arthur.”

She snorts into his shoulder. “What?”

“My middle name. S’Arthur. After my grandfather.”

She makes a noise that sounds like a sob…or a laugh. He can’t tell. The sound stirs a frantic need within him and he grips her by the shoulders.

“Move in with me.”

“What? No.”

“Just until the kid gets here. Let me take care of you both.”

She looks up at him, eyes ringed with dark circles. A raindrop splashes on the tip of her nose and drips into the divot above her upper lip.

“Do you even want this? I need to hear you say it.”

Any lingering anger melts away. He thinks of the soft yellow onesie still tucked into the bottom of his pack.

“I do,” he says, hoping the two little words are enough to hold her, to convince her.

She ducks her head with a watery sigh, close enough for her hair to brush at his chest. “Let me think about it.”

He nods. “Alright, but…not too long, okay? You’re, uh…”

He trails off as the back of his hand touches her stomach, just grazing the fabric over her bellybutton, before dropping back to his side.

She sniffs. “Yeah. I’m well aware we’re on a schedule.”

“Okay…okay then,” he nods, resuming their walk toward town. They’ve almost reached the trading post when she speaks again.

“It’s Sarah, by the way.”

The name takes his breath as it always does, pulls at that black hole in his heart that even Ellie can’t completely fill.

“I don’t under–”

“My middle name,” she sniffs. “You didn’t ask, but…it’s Sarah.”

He doesn’t trust himself to speak, just ducks his chin in a nod. Sarah. Of course it’s Sarah.

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

~*~

That night, she appears on his porch. The rain has let up, but her hair is still damp, matted to her temples.

“I’ll stay with you,” she says without preamble. “Under one condition.”

He blinks. “Anything.”

“We don’t talk about the kid. No names, no what-ifs…no…playing house. I can’t do any of that,” she says. “We take it one day at a time and…see what happens.”

“If that’s what you want,” he says, swallowing hard.

She nods, satisfied. “Alright. I can bring some stuff by tomorrow.”

“Good. That’d be good. But I uh, need to tell Ellie,” he pauses, thinking. “Can I make dinner for you? For the three of us, I mean?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not playin’ house or whatever,” he clarifies, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “Just…figured the news might go down better with food.”

She nods slowly. “I could do that.”

“You like spaghetti? S’Ellie’s favorite and it’s hard for me to fuck it up.”

“I like spaghetti,” she says, smiling a little. “I get off work at six.”

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Six. See you then.”

~*~

That night, instead of staring at the ceiling during his usual sleepless hours, he moves most of his clothes into the spare bedroom closet and cleans his stuff out of the attached bathroom.

As he works, he thinks of Charlie’s unbuttoned jeans straining around her womb and the climbing summer temperatures. Soon there would be no hiding her stomach under a jacket or sweater.

Jackson was friendly, but it was still a small town. People got bored and they talked, and anyone who paid attention would have seen Charlie and Joel together. There were already enough rumors about Tommy Miller’s broody older brother and his mysterious adopted daughter, the one who wore long sleeves even on the hottest days and carried a switchblade.

Ellie.

Another pang of guilt gnaws in his gut. He’d done enough damage to their relationship as it was, and now he’s about to drop a fucking bomb.

He finds himself knocking on the garage door the next morning, hands rubbing restlessly at the thighs of his jeans as he waits for her to answer. He realizes it’s been a few days since he’s talked with her beyond a simple “hello” in passing, or to pass the salt at dinner, or to ask where she’d put the TV remote. He chides himself; Ellie is independent by nature, but she’s still a kid, still his responsibility. She’s never going to trust him again if–

She answers the door, rubbing her eyes and blinking owlishly up at him. She looks so young when she first wakes up, hair tousled, sleep lines on her cheeks.

“Hey, I uh…we’re, uh…having dinner at the house tonight. Makin’ your favorite. Spaghetti.”

She raises an eyebrow. Joel doesn’t usually cook if he can help it; the caf is easier and less prone to burning things. “What’s the occasion?”

He swallows hard. “There’s somethin’ I need to talk to you about. And…Charlie will be there.”

“Ooooo-kay,” she yawns. “Love a good third wheel situation, I guess.”

“S’not like that,” he shakes his head. “She’s just a friend.”

“Yeah, I bet,” she smirks, then sighs dramatically. “I guess I can make room in my packed social calendar for dinner. As long as it’s spaghetti. Maria’s sauce, right? ‘Cause yours is…yikes.”

She sticks her tongue out to drive the point home.

He snorts softly. “Yeah. Maria’s sauce. And garlic bread.”

“Cool.”

He nods, and the moment draws itself out, that awful, awkward, twisting silence filled with all the things he can’t say.

“So…was there something else?” she asks. “I gotta get ready for school.”

“No…nope,” he mutters. “I guess not. I’ll see you tonight, kiddo.”

~*~

He doesn’t quite burn the garlic bread, but it’s pretty fucking dark. He’s scraping the crumbs into the sink when Charlie appears at the door with a salad in hand and a backpack slung over her shoulder. She’s wearing an oversized blue button-down over soft black leggings. For comfort’s sake, he hopes the jeans have been retired for a while.

“Thanks,” he says, taking the bag, frowning at its weight. “You’re not s’posed to be lifting stuff.”

“I can handle a bag of clothes.”

He grunts, gestures to the salad. “You can put that on the table. Ellie’ll be over in a few.”

“Anything I can help with?”

“You can sit,” he says, perhaps too gruffly, placing her pack by the stairs. On the stove, the reheated marinara starts to bubble, spitting red flecks. He rushes to take it off the heat.

Ellie arrives just as Joel is setting the last bowl on the table. She nods in a wary greeting to Charlie, then helps herself to spaghetti and salad and bread.

“So what’s up?” she asks around a mouthful of food, forgoing any small talk—his kid, through and through.

Joel swallows hard, looks at Charlie, who simply shrugs as if to say this is your show .

He opens his mouth but the words are stubborn and nothing seems right.

You’re going to be a big sister.

Your old man is going to be a dad again.

I fucked up and we’re having a baby.

He’d never had to worry about this with Sarah. On the rare occasion a date went further than dinner, he’d been cautious to a fault. He’d been considering a vasectomy before the pandemic but time and savings were sparse. He probably could have had the procedure done back in the QZ, but Tess had been his only partner, and she’d had a hysterectomy in her thirties. An operation that would put him out of commission for any length of time seemed like an unnecessary waste of ration cards.

He realizes he’s lost in thought, and they’re both watching him, still waiting.

“So, uh…Charlie’s gonna move in with me for a bit,” he says. “I’m givin’ her my room, and I’ll take your old one…if that’s okay.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. “You two aren’t… together ?”

“No,” Joel mutters, meeting Charlie’s eyes across the table. “S’temporary. She just needs a place for a bit.”

“Weird, but…fine with me,” Ellie shrugs, then turns to Charlie. “Joel’s good at taking in strays, it’s kinda his thing. Case in point.”

Charlie smiles a little at this, takes a sip of her water.

“She’s, uh, gonna have a baby,” Joel continues, focused on his plate, pushing the food around.

“Oh shit, congrats!” Ellie grins at Charlie, then looks back at Joel. He can’t meet her eyes.

There’s a heavy silence. Joel grips his fork until the design in the handle makes an imprint in his palm. He waits for Ellie to do what she does so well, to pick up the hints, put the pieces together, and say the things he can’t.

“Wait,” Ellie says, looking back and forth between them, mouth dropping open in a scandalized O .

“You didn’t—”

She coughs then, choking on a mouthful of food, and fumbles frantically for her water glass.

“Joel,” she says when she can speak again. “Tell me you didn’t.”

All he can offer is a tiny shrug.

“Holy shit ,” she breathes, fork clattering to her plate. “You slut !”

Not for the first time, Joel wishes she had a proper full name–Elspeth, Eleanor, Elizabeth, Eliza–anything that, combined with a solid middle name, made for a convincing and forceful reprimand.

“Sarah Elizabeth Miller” was always effective when his first kid was being a little shit, even if he rarely had to use it.

As it is, he can only growl Ellie’s short-and-sweet name under his breath and watch it roll right off her back. She doesn’t miss a beat.

“Wow, I can’t…I mean, you just said you weren’t even together –”

“We’re not,” he grates out. “It was a…a one-time thing.”

His face is so hot, he can practically feel the vein throbbing at his temple. He wonders if his second kid will give him a fucking aneurysm before his third kid can even be born.

“Thanks for that, now I need to bleach my fucking brain,” she says. “Gross. So, so gross. Dude, you’re like, sixty .”

“I’m fifty-seven,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, so really fucking old . Do you not know how babies are made ? FEDRA school was shit but even they taught us how to put on a fucking condom—”

“Ellie, we didn’t—“

“Don’t, dude. Just stop. You’re really fucked up, you know that? Like, I know I have issues, but this is fuckin’—”

She’s interrupted by a muffled snort from the other side of the table. Charlie has clapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes are brimming with tears. She’s going to fucking cry because his kid is an asshole and he is an even bigger asshole and this has gone all fifteen kinds of wrong.

Joel would like to die, right now, face down in a plate of spaghetti with his face the color of marinara—anything to end this godawful conversation.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie gasps, and it dawns on him that she’s not crying at all–she’s struggling not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. It’s just, I haven’t–this is just–holy shit .”

She breaks out into a peal of giggles, leaving both Joel and Ellie in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, heaving and hiccuping as she tries to catch her breath. “Everything has been so awful and serious and…this is just so…so…fucking funny –”

Ellie blinks, looking back and forth between Joel and Charlie in wide-eyed amazement.

Something in Joel’s chest unfurls from its tight, anxious knot, and when he meets Charlie’s eyes, he can’t help but return her grin.

“You two are fucked ,” Ellie pronounces, but there’s a slow smile spreading across her face.

“We are,” Joel agrees. “We’re fucked.”

“Totally fucked,” Charlie agrees, then giggles again.

Ellie shakes her head in disbelief, digging back into her spaghetti. “Welcome to the fucking family, I guess.”

~*~

Joel shows up for work the next day feeling lighter than he has in weeks. He’d finally slept . Ellie, while completely disgusted, hadn’t disowned him; she’d even hugged him before returning to the garage. And Charlie had made herself at home, joining him on the couch to watch a movie after dinner.

Maybe this could fucking work.

His newfound peace lasts about as long as it takes for Tommy to find him and clap him on the shoulder.

“What’s this I hear about you takin’ in strays?”

Joel scowls, picking up an extension cord and trying to untangle it from a pile of the things. “Don’t believe everythin’ you hear.”

“So Charlie isn’t shackin’ up with you, then?”

“S’not like that. It’s temporary.”

“Uh-huh.”

He shoots his brother a look over his shoulder, weighing his options. The rumor mill isn’t churning as fast as he thought or Tommy would be all over it by now. He rolls his eyes, knowing what comes next will be just about as bearable as a tooth extraction, aware he can’t put it off any longer.

“She’s gonna have a kid.”

“Right,” Tommy snorts. “Your kid?”

Joel turns and holds his brother’s gaze.

“Holy shit,” Tommy breathes. “You’re serious?”

“You’re gonna be an uncle again,” Joel says dryly.

Tommy whistles. “Well, don’t that just beat all. How the hell–”

“The usual way,” Joel grumbles, turning back to his work. “Can we not do this here?”

But Tommy has never been easily deterred. He practically launches himself at his brother for a bone-crushing hug while half the work crew looks on, bemused.

“Christ, get offa me.”

Tommy doesn’t. When he finally pulls away, grinning and gripping Joel’s shoulders, he’s almost teary-eyed.

“Maria’s gonna be thrilled.”

“I doubt it,” Joel mutters, thinking he’s already not held in high esteem by his sister-in-law. Knocking up a girl twenty years his junior is hardly going to redeem him.

“Does Ellie know?”

“Yeah, we told her last night. She’s…about as excited as you’d expect.”

“Damn. I can’t—I mean, I always thought—after—“

Tommy sobers, and the word lingers heavy between them.

After .

“I know,” Joel says, realizing with a dull ache that his brother is the only other person alive who understands the gravity of the situation…the only one who knew Sarah as more than a sad story in their history.

Joel closes his eyes and sees his brother at twenty, Sarah’s tiny arms wrapped around his neck as she clings to his back, laughing wildly as he dives through the sprinklers on the front lawn.

He blinks the memory away, busies himself with the extension cord again. He doesn’t even remember what he wanted it for, but he needs to do something with his hands.

“But it’s good, right? This is good,” Tommy says, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Joel swallows hard. “It’s good.”

Tommy grins, then frowns just as quickly. “Oh, man. The midwife–”

“Yeah, she’s awful.”

“Maria damn near killed her when Izzy was born.”

“‘Bout ready to myself,” Joel mutters.

“And…you and Charlie ain’t…?”

Joel glares at him in answer.

“Alright, brother. Damn, man. A kid…and at your age…”

Tommy laughs and ducks just in time to avoid the extension cord as it whips by his head.

#fanfic #fic recs #joel miller #the last of us hbo #the last of us #babyfic #pregnancy #tlou fanfic #tlou fic

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sealedchasm · 10 months

Note

Tom meets the psychotic Soliloquy trio because you said he can jump universes. So here's one universe where he's apart of the psychotic Soliloquy (Lo + Meztli + Trickster if u didn't know)

Psychotic Soliloquy and…. Tom?? :000 this is very long and badly written so bare with me 😭😭😭

Meeting the trio:

Tom would be “investigating” a nearby apartment complex from theirs where his clients target resides in. Hearing non-stop bickering from two people a door away from his target’s address was certainly concerning but he paid almost no mind to it.

Even after the job was done, evidence disposed of and coat hastily cleaned, he could still hear those same voices, almost worried about what was going in that room. He’s not the type to pay concern to others trivial arguing but this sparked his attention.

He exited through the crime scenes’ balcony, hopping over the railing and onto the loud apartment, careful not to make a noise too loud that’ll give him away.

He brought the back of his hand and a curled index finger to knock twice, the room now stood silent, with hush whispers occasionally breaking the silence.

The door creaked open slightly, the inside was dark the lights turned off to his disadvantage but to the advantage of those in the room since the moon was particularly bright tonight.

“I’m not here to cause harm.” He spoke “In fact, I’m here to check up on you since I heard you two bickering a few rooms down.” He said as he raised both arms up to show that he had no weapon in hand.

Being apart of them:

Oh lord expect Meztli and Tricksters bickering more often because he pokes fun at the both of them and he doesn’t do anything to stop them, he claims he can’t do anything because he’s “absolutely neutral” with a grin, Lo sighs while pinching his nose-bridge.

He’s very open to Trickster or anyone styling his hair while he reads a book, sometimes he also braids Trickster’s hair and puts little star clips in it.

Tom gets passed out drunk once Sunday hits and Lo has to drag his unconscious ass back into the apartment scolding him.

“I hope you get banned from every bar and or tavern in the vicinity i’m so sick and tired—“ “hehe tire *hiccup*”

Tom and Meztli rob a McDonalds so frequently that the employees know to give up all the happy meal toys once they bust down the door.

Lo and Trickster put in a rule that Tom and Meztli should not in any circumstance put the both of them in the same together or else the nearest building will be up in flames

(IM SO SORRYIF I WROTE ANY OF THEM WRONG (*´Д｀*)！！！i had so much fun thinking of silly scenarios with them!!)

Lo belongs to @feelin-lo

Meztli belongs to @aesopsbaby

Trickster belongs to @boiling-potato

#ajax.ramble #ajax.moots #ambrosiur.answers #moots.ocs

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 years

Text

Day 18: Free Day (Size)

Ferndale Survives AU. Estinien tries to defend his lady. Sort of. Slightly NSFW.

“So, it’s true then, Estinien? You’re courtin’ the conjurer?” Laurentois Valois asked Estinien in the pub one evening.

Estinien grunted as he sipped his ale. “Aye, but she’s not jus’ a conjurer. She’s a white mage. Tis a step ‘igher than conjurer.”

Laurentois nodded. As if he knows what that means! My Agi is the smartest, best healer ‘round! “But you gotta admit she’s different from the other girls ‘round here.”

“Different ‘ow?” Estinien asked warily, raising an eyebrow. He noticed his father also look concerned as did Hami.

“You know, she’s…a lady of size both tall and…erm, you know.” Laurentois gestured with his hands to say what he could not---wide. “She’s got…what’s it called…girth?”

A vein twitched on Estinien’s forehead. How fucking dare he! MY AGI IS THE PRETTIEST MAIDEN THE REALM HAS EVER KNOWN! However, before Estinien could punch him in the fucking face, Marcelin laid a hand on his elder son’s shoulder.

“Don’t do it, Stini.” He murmured. “Agi wouldn’t ‘prove.”

My Agi is the sweetest sausage roll in the world. She doesn’t like violence, though I bet if someone said somethin’ ‘bout me, she’d use a billion spells and turn them into dust! Estinien shot a dirty look at Laurentois. “So wot? She’s pretty and will make a fine wife! The very breast wife!”

Oh no.

Hami and Marcelin began sniggering into their drinks, while the others in the pub stopped what they were doing and stared at Estinien.

Oh fucking hells.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Estinien, but wot did you jus’ say?” Laurentois asked, mouth agape.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh tits! NO! “I-I…”

Gilbert Rune, the elderly proprietor of the pub, laughed from behind the bar and banged his cane on the stone floor. “Young master Varlineau likes ‘is lady’s tits!” Estinien feel his cheeks become very hot. “And wot Fury fearin’ man don’t like ‘is wife’s tits?” Gilbert raised a mug of ale. “To the ladies! May their tits be as sweet as the Fury’s!”

Agi said when she’s embarrassed she wants the earth to swallow her whole. I know that feelin’! Estinien raised his glass as did the other men in the pub and then drank. Fucking hells my ears are so damn hot. Fuck. He felt his father clap him on the back.

“’ere’s hopin’ we’ll ‘ave a weddin’ soon ‘nough! To my boy Stini and ‘is girl Agi!”

PA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“’ear, ‘ear!” The men in the pub toasted and drank.

***

Bells later, when Estinien was quite drunk, he clumsily removed his clothes and got in bed with Agnes, who was reading a book. “Have fun at the pub, love?” She asked with a giggle as he lay his head on her shoulder.

“Yessssssh schweetheart. Butter wit you doe.” Titties…I love her titties…gonna sleep on her big fat titties…

Agnes closed her book and ruffled his hair. “Do you want a cuddle, love?” She placed her book and glasses on a small side table and curled into him. “I happen to like this a lot better.” Agnes whispered, rubbing her hand on his chest. “My handsome shepherd home at last.”

Gotta tell her I love her. Then sleep. Lots of sleep. “Agi,” Estinien rumbled. “I luff…your big fat TITTESH. An’ assh. Everythin’.”

Trying and failing to stifle a laugh, Agnes pressed a soft kiss into his chest. “Love you too, you silly man.”

“Y-you coo be girty…girtier…and I’d luff you.” There. She needs to KNOW!

“That’s a very lovely thing to say, ‘Stinien.” Agnes giggled. “Now, go to sleep. You’ve an early day again tomorrow.”

Early days…better with you…my Agi…

#agnes currai #estinien varlineau #estinien wyrmblood #estinien x wol #wolstinien #marcelin varlineau #hamignant varlineau #ferndale survives au #ffxiv write 2022 #ffxiv write #the very breast wife

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dalishthunder · 3 years

Text

Another excerpt for the anon who said that it makes their day because that ask made my day asdlkjfalsjdfk

Eridan had a grype call he needed to get to right after the session so he made a relatively hasty exit leaving you alone with Cronus. "Do you wanna hang out downstairs? It's probably more comfortable."

You remembered very vividly the way you'd broken down in front of him while he was drunk and the way you'd wanted so badly to just let go and you.... You weren't sure if you should trust yourself... which was silly because of course you could trust yourself. So despite your long (probably awkward) pause you nodded and he beamed and you felt an uncomfortable pang in your chest like you just swallowed too much bread with a too-dry throat.

Cronus grabbed your hand and led you down the stairs to his dude cavern (and you tried to ignore just how many doors there were in the hallway because how... how were there that many rooms in the basement level? What was in them? Was one of them a sex dungeon? Probably! But you were far too polite to ask... though you really wouldn't want to ask about that last one.... yeah.... Much better to not wonder or wander).

It was still as dimly lit as you remembered it the first time, but the soft light of the day outside filtered in through thin, horizontal windows up towards the ceiling and something about it gave you the sense of deja vu, except for the massive pile of pillows and blankets in one corner.

"So do you wanna watch a movie, chief? Or maybe just talk?" He gave you a blinding smile and you quickly averted your eyes, catching quickly on the bizarre pile. Surely he didn't just take every pillow and cushion and blanket in the house and make a nest out of them did he? Was that normal behavior? Or was he like... just a bit messy? (After all he was rich, he could afford to not care about messes because he could just pay people to clean up after him. Something you would have loved to be able to do. Fuck doing dishes.) "D'you like it?"

"Like what?" You replied. His p-

"My pile. Do you like it?" Cronus looked at you with equal parts excitement and anxiousness.

"Uhhhh..." You tried to glean what answer he wanted from you by reading his face. "Yyyeeees?"

That was apparently all he needed to hear before he rushed over and flopped down on it, patting his lap and watched you expectantly. You just gave him what you hoped was a withering look and he patted the space beside him instead. You debated for a moment whether or not to sit on next to him in that monument to decadence and comfort or sit on the couch like a normal person but he was giving you puppy dog eyes and he really was awfully cute. (Can we keep him?) So despite your hesitance and better judgement you flopped down on the pile.

It was extraordinarily plush.

You sank in the perfect amount.

This was... this was quite nice actually.

Cronus immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to his side. You pushed him away equally as quickly because, "Damn, leave some fucking room for Jesus, will you?"

If the confused look he gave you was anything to go by, the reference clearly went over his head. But the sentiment behind the statement rung true. You needed some personal space.

"What's wrong, kitten? You ain't feelin' good?" He reached out to stroke your cheek, hand cold (always cold) but they kept it so goddamn warm in here that it wasn't the temperature of it that was the issue. It was the presumptuousness of it all.

Wrong? Nothing was wrong. You were fine. You just needed some personal space because he was massive and smothering and you were... god between the pillows and blankets pulling you in and the clinginess of the man beside you you were... fuck you couldn't even breathe.

He cradled your face in his hands, making soft shooshing sounds and a few high, warbling clicks. "You ain't gotta hold anyfin in on the pile." The expression on his face was gentle... the sort of gentle way one would look at a baby deer; with all the tenderness in the world and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel and you were going to fucking scream.

No.

No. You were fine.

You focused on the way your nails dug crescents into your palm.

"I'm fine. I just need a little personal space is all."

Cronus pouted but you had no intention of giving him more than that. You hated feeling poached eggy. (Though truth be told you felt... you felt more like a fried egg. Crinkly and crispy around the edges. Chewier, less soft... you weren't even sure if you had a gooey center right now).

"You don't gotta be shy, chief, you can tell me anything." He tried again. "That's what piles are great for: feelings jams, secret sessions, y'know pink shit." You squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was trying to insult you (why would he though...). "Geez, kitten, no need to get hostile here, you were super into sharing the other night."

You winced.

"That was... an exception, not the rule. Besides, I'm okay, really."

He didn't look convinced but finally changed the subject. "So my therapist says that I should take more interest in the things that other people are interested in."

#cronus ampora #Thunderous Applesauce #homestuck #good endings only #i love you anon

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gone-daddy-gone · 4 years

Text

part one 🍒

Todomomo

I think they would be that TikTok couple where the girl is dancing and then the boy slowly comes up and wraps his arms around her and kisses her with the music still playing.

They were voted hottest TikTok couple.

Momo tried the “play this with your boyfriend around audio” and long story short Todoroki burnt her phone.

Todoroki has his profile picture as him and Momo in some glasses flashing a stack of money.

It was a joke at first but he ended up never changing it.

Todoroki would make a post about zooning out and day dreaming about Momo being a “good girl” and asking for more

Momo dueted it and said “zooning out and day dreaming about when he tells you that its not ever yet.”

Todoroki was the first to do the “You look so sexy, you really turn me on videos with your S/O.

He would take the video of Momo as shes getting ready looking all sexy like she is

And she starts talking about their cats bowel movements and he starts laughing cause the audio hits “you look so sexy.” And her eyes widen and shes giggling.

He then spins her close to him and whsipers “You really turn me on, blow my mind everytime.” And she just giggles louder and blushes.

That got like 3 million views.

“I have a boyfriend.” “No my boyfriend crazy, he kill people.”

Izuocha

Uraraka would do silly cute videos

Deku would NOT thirst trap

....on purpose

THEY ARE THE COUPLE TO DO THE “this my baby, and aint NO BODY FINNA touch him.

Uraraka would do lots of cosplay videos.

Her and Deku would do couple cosplay all day long.

They may or may not beg Kiribaku and Seromina to joing them.

Uraraka does that audio where it’s “AND WHY AREN’T YOU IN UNIFORM” in her school clothes, she exits the screen and comes back in with a maid outfit with her fingers doing this. 👉🏽👈🏽

Deku would spend at least two hours replying to the “Damn she bad” “She know what she doin” comments with “Yeah she is :)” “You should see her without the outfit.”

He would do a video with negative and jealous comments about his relationship/ Uraraka with “Bitch I know you sad I know you mad I know you pissed off.” Only he would censor the bad words.

They are that couple that do the whole stand on their back thing and they have to keep getting up till the other person is standing on their shoulders.

Uraraka would dress up in some dark cosplay and lip sync “Do you know who the fuck you’re talkin to?’ audio.

That’s it. Just imagine how hot that’d be.

Her favorite audio is “make his pockets hurt”

Kirbaku

They would do the “I am not gay” audio and flash up pis of Uraraka Momo and Mina. Then they would stare at each other as the blank part of the audio plays out and then go. “You know what i am GAY.”

Kirishima would make his caption. “Girls are beautiful tho “

Bakugou would then caption his with “Not as beautiful as my boyfriend tho.”

They delete fetishizing comments so fast!

Love the Fuck Ice song!

I DO NOT CARE HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT BAKUGOU HE THIRST TRAPS!!

They wouldn’t be the BEST dancers....

But their little dance to “Get the Gat” hit different.

Kirishima does that audio that’s like “No need to shout, no need to yell, no need to have a riot. Shut your eyes, take a deep breath.” To him, and he picked him up and threw him across the room.

Kirishima then later dueted Todoroki’s “Thinking about when she..” video with “When he threw you out of anger and you were kinda into it.”

Kaminari did a video of “Tell your beef, if he says he’s got boyfriend. Then tell him I’m scared of him and I aint fuckin vegetarian.” So he dueted it with him holding up beef and bringing Bakugou in the shot, before pushing out of the way and eating the meat.

Then he fort night danced.

Kirishima thinks that jake2r is literally the funniest thing on TikTok

“I can fuck your bitch and fuck your mom and auntie.” Is an audio Bakugou OWNS

Kamijirou

Jirou would post so many videos of her singing

There would be some with Kaminari in the background just walking by with a dumb smile on his face.

He would then duet it and dance to her singing and do stupid TikTok dances to her voice with a caption. “That’s my baby! Yessir!”

Adding onto the “Fuck Ice” song, Jirou made her own punk version.

With proper credit of course.

On god Denki would try so hard to get her to do the couple audios with him.

CEO of the “Heart been broke so many times” Audio.

Kaminari would do a “Day one of trying to get my girlfriend to dance with me.” To literally any popular dance.

He got her drunk one time and she did it.

DENKI SINGS “Come on fuck me emo boy.” TO HER ALL THE TIME AND SHE HAS TO TRY HER HARDEST NOT TO LAUGH

Like literally most of the videos in that audio is them two ranging from her being mad, her laughing, her not showing any care, and one of her vibing.

One time he left town and couldn’t do it in person so he did so with a bunch of pictures of her.

Jirou posts video’s of her getting ready to the “I’m your DAD!” audio and she actually screams and Denki runs in scared.

Asaf and Frank are his favorite TikTokers

Seromina

Sero is a dumb stoner gamer TikToker.

Mina is THE TikTok dancer.

She INVENTED throwing it back!

She can also rap every single Nikki Minaji song perfectly.

She would shake her ass to “Don’t drop that dun dun dun”

Like she would go ham.

And Sero would be on a trip out of town watching it and all he could duet it with was his jaw hanging open and water coming out of his mouth like drool.

He would nearly be crying at the beauty he snagged.

Caption would be “Ya’ll wanna know how fast I can run?”

Sero invented the “I’m already tracer” meme.

Mina did a collab with the “Hit or miss girl” and they’re best friends.

“I’m a savage, classy bouige, ratchet.” She owns that audio.

Sero makes fun of all the E boys who say the N word.

Sero is somewhere between an E boy and an anti E boy.

Co CEO of “Heart been broke so many times” Audio.

“What you doin out here with all that ass?” Is another favorite of Sero’s

Sero would get ripped before “I don’t get it, it’s says it’s four for four dollars. No one said anything about tax.” While Mina tries to make breakfast in the background and he fortnight dances.

Sero WORSHIPS the ground Cody Ko and Noel Miller walk on

GROUP HEADCANNONS

Mina and Momo collab the most out of the four girls

Bakugou post a video of that audio thats like “Jack i want you to paint me like this” And he’s jack all smooth and sexy

Kaminari then duets it in full sloth costume.

Kirishima duets it laughing his ass off.

Bakugou and Momo do the song together that’s like “I think y’all could use some tips. I’m skinny, I’m winning, and all you bitches are ugly. All the guys in my phone are ugly and fat so don’t call me.” With the camera shaking over to Todoroki eating soba minding his own damn business and the back to Bakugou with “All these bitches on my dick, they giving me head in the lobby” And at that exact moment Kirishima walks by and he grabs the back of his head and bobs it.

He is very confused and can only laugh and mutter an “OW!”

That video got 5 million likes.

They all do their own version of “Tell me about your schools biggest controversy with this audio.

Jirou’s is just “Mineta”

Kaminari and Kirishima would re create the audio in person.

Mina would get Todoroki, Deku and Kaminari together and lip sync “I am not gay, but lets be precise.” You could see Sero in the background mouthing “Liar.” Mina would push him out of the shot trying to finish the line “cause if she’s pretty than watch her cause ima be fuckin ya wife.”

They girls would do a really fast paced TikTok to “Ms. Hilton you must be worth a trillion bucks “ With Mina lip syncing that while pulling her sunglasses down to look at Momo walk by.

Then it would turn to Urarka who goes “Get the feelin that you don’t really give a” And then Jirou would come in clutch with the censoring and play her guitar on the “fuck” so Uraraka doesn’t cuss because she is baby.

Deku and Todoroki do the “Who are you?” “Maaaaan I be that pretty mother fucker man.”

Todoroki is the pretty mother fucker.

I’m gonna say that Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari do the “Well, can you tell which one of us is Hikaru?” audio, with the caption when we ask who’s the biggest dumbass, and when it turns to he Haruhi part its literally everyone saying the “thats the dumbest game I’ve ever heard”

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bluejaybabbles-archive · 4 years

Note

IS IT TOO GAY OF ME TO ASK FOR ALL THREE MIDWEST MONSTERS WIP CHARACTESR FOR THE SOFT MEME... i just love them DEARLY

IT IS EXACTLY THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF GAY TO ASK FOR ALL THREE OF THEM MAX

Putting this under a cut bc it got a bit lengthy!

Let’s go in alphabetical order! First up, Antonia Figueroa!

what they smell like

I haven’t thought about this much, but definitely something soft...like fresh laundry, or something floral! She tries to seem aloof and standoffish, but she’s really just. So soft, if you gain her trust, so I think her scent would reflect that!

what their favorite smells in the world are

Vanilla!! She has far too many vanilla candles. She also loves the smell of the ocean breeze. The last time she went to Puerto Rico, she used her magic to bottle the ocean breeze, and when she’s stressed, she opens the bottle and just sits in the scent for a while.

what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in

Big t-shirts! She has a collection of graphic tees just for sleeping in. A lot of them have the Pepsi logo on them ajsdbsdufh and some of them are just like. You know those tacky shirts with the animals printed on them?? These ones:

[id: a grey t-shirt with images of a bald eagle, a mountain lion, a wolf, and a moose on it.]

Yeah.

my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

okay this one’s gonna be a little hard bc Toni, Javi, and Avery are all in a polyamorous triad so OBVIOUSLY I ship them all together but also! I definitely ship Antonia with Triss, a monster hunter from the Summer Court!! I can’t decide if it’s a casual thing or if Antonia is just also in a serious relationship with Triss, but Triss is over at Toni’s place all the time. Triss takes a big interest in Toni’s witchcraft and asks lots of questions, and she definitely curls up on her couch and reads spell books while Toni’s mixing potions or smth!

my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

Antonia and Javi!! Like yeah they’re partners but a) they don’t start off as partners, and b) YOU SHOULD BE FRIENDS WITH YOUR PARTNERS!! They’re the kind of friends that bounce snarky fake-insults off each other and then just end up cuddling on the floor and playing with each other’s hair. They’d also definitely bond over their experiences in being Puerto Rican out in the Land of Corn and Ghosts and Corn Ghosts

a song that reminds me of them

Wild Roses by Of Monsters and Men! Specifically this part Gets Me:

Down by the creek, I couldn’t sleep, so I followed a feelin’

Sounds like the vines, they are breathing

(Oh it sounds like, it sounds like, it sounds like, it sounds, oh)

And I’ve seen the way the seasons change when I just give it time

But I feel out of my mind all the time

In the night I am wild-eyed, and you got me now

what animal i think they would be if they were an animal

She would ABSOLUTELY be a cat. 100% a grumpy cat who reveals her True Soft Nature around maybe one or two people. She says “mother I crave violence” but what she really craves is a good snuggle session

what position they sleep in

She starts off on her back, but she’s a restless sleeper, so she usually ends up on her side by the end of the night! She definitely starfishes, though, which becomes a little bit of a problem when she, Javi, and Avery start sleeping in the same bed aifhsidgh

their favorite drink

PEPSI!! She’s specifically a big fan of wild cherry pepsi, but regular pepsi also works. At any given time she’s probably wearing some sort of pepsi memorabilia.

a gift i would give them if i could

Spell ingredients! Dried plants from my yard! A ticket to PR! also this:

[id: a white shirt with the word Pepsi across the chest in blue. Beneath the word Pepsi is the Pepsi logo, a red, white, and blue circle. The shirt also has several Pepsi logos down the sleeves.]

Next up we have Avery!

what they smell like

Avery smells earthy and like. Fresh?? Crisp?? At the same time?? Kind of like a winter morning in the woods! Y’know that smell of “things are still alive here, the cold is just keeping them dormant”? That!!

what their favorite smells in the world are

His senses were enhanced during his time in the Court of the Moon, so he has some OPINIONS about smells ajfhsdiufhud that said! He LOVES fruity smells, specifically citrus scents! He’s also a big fan of the smell of fresh baked goods, whether that be bread or cookies or brownies!

what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in

So Avery sleeps nude and keeps clothes next to the bed so he can put them on really quick if he needs to, HOWEVER! Javi eventually compiles a collection of lounge wear for him! (”Come on, you can’t just be in going-out clothes and armor all the time! Isn’t that uncomfortable?” “If I get uncomfortable I just get naked.” “I’m going out and buying you clothes right now.”) It’s honestly wild to see someone who wears mostly blacks and greys standing around his house in baby blue pajama pants with raccoons on them, or in a sheer green sleep shirt that says “Sunday is for snuggling”

my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

Okay so here I’m gonna focus on him and Antonia because holy WOW they’re so sweet, like!! Antonia feels like she can be herself around him, which is so rare. She’s his main supplier for spells and things since she knows the way he works, but also he says he goes to her because she “casts her spells/brews her potions with love” and that “makes them all the more effective.” He definitely comes to her place if a hunt goes wrong and she does the whole “patches you up while affectionately calling you an idiot” thing

my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

Avery and Triss!! Triss is the first person Avery really opened up to after being released from the Court of the Moon. Even though the Celestial Courts are...different from the others, he felt that another monster hunter would be the one to understand him most. She helps him open up to more people, and shows him the beauty of the world. I imagine she gathers bouquets of wildflowers and “weeds” and brings them to him sometimes!!

a song that reminds me of them

Some Kind of Disaster by All Time Low! Especially these parts:

I woke up from a never-ending dream

I shut my eyes at 17

I lost every moment in between

I felt the sun rise up and swallow me, yeah

and

I crashed down from a high that felt so real

I never knew how much it would hurt to feel

You gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal

You gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah

AND

And it’s all my fault that I’m still the one you want

So what are you after?

Some kind of disaster (Some kind of disaster)

Fuck I gotta. I gotta go listen to this song now. I’m having Feelings

what animal i think they would be if they were an animal

Y’know, I was gonna be tacky and say a wolf, but now that I’m thinking about it...he’d be a coyote. Adaptable, can be a loner or in a pack, tend to be crepuscular when around humans, some people are very adamant about how they should be shot on sight.....

what position they sleep in

If he’s sleeping alone, he’ll sleep on his side, but if he’s sleeping with other people, he sleeps on his back so they can curl up on his chest!

their favorite drink

Water. Like, actually, he really loves ice water. Sometimes he’ll get frisky and drink *gasp* flavored water!

a gift i would give them if i could

A weighted blanket! Like, I know you have to be able to jump right up and get to work if duty calls or whatever, but can you please get one night of deep sleep?? And a hug. Someone hug this man

Last but CERTAINLY not least, Javi Justiniano!

what they smell like

Fresh rain on dirt, crushed rosemary, and fresh cut wood!

what their favorite smells in the world are

They absolutely ADORE the smell of peppermint! They’re also a big fan of pumpkin spice candles. It really is a shame they love seasonal scents so much sdifuhdiu I imagine they try to stock up as much as they can to last them through the year

what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in

Okay so Javi is EXTREMELY tacky and will wear like. A sheer nightgown and silly patterned pants as pajamas. So a combination like this:

[id: a pale person with long, dark hair wearing a sheer and lacy white nightgown]

[id: a pair of black pajama pants with a red waistband and a red pocket. The pants are decorated with images of various red lobsters and the words “Pinch Me...I’m Dreaming”]

If anyone asks them about it they just shrug and say “I’m nonbinary, it’s allowed”

my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

Here, I’m gonna talk about Javi and Avery because Holy Shit I Love Them. Javi is EXTREMELY chaotic and Avery rolls his eyes about it but secretly adores everything about them. Like. Javi canonically drunk calls Avery and asks him to carry them to bed because they don’t think they can make it up the stairs and Avery actually does it. And when Avery’s about to leave, Javi asks him to stay until they fall asleep, and he stays until morning, and hold on I gotta sit down--

my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them

So I’ve already talked about how Javi and Toni’s friendship is AMAZING but I wanna give a shout out to Javi’s as of yet unnamed roommates! Like, they have to deal with the random monsters that Javi attracts and at this point they’re pretty unfazed by them. They walk into the kitchen and see a weird floating eyeball with wings or some shit and Javi’s like “I’m sorry it was there when I woke up” and they go “It happens. Does it like peaches bc ours are about to go bad”

a song that reminds me of them

3am by Halsey! Specifically this part:

My self-preservation and all of my reservations

Are sittin’ and contemplating what to do with me, do with me

Think I took it way too far

And I’m stumblin’ drunk, getting in a car

My insecurities are hurtin’ me

Someone please come and flirt with me

I really need a mirror that’ll come along and tell me that I’m fine

I do it every time

I keep on hanging on the line, ignoring every warning sign

Come on and make me feel alright again

Baby. Has some abandonment issues. It’s probably fine.

what animal i think they would be if they were an animal

DEFINITELY a dog. Like, a big, sweet, clingy dog whose adoption profile labels them as “Thinks they’re a lap dog, so they need to be taught not to fall asleep on top of you. Unless that’s something you want!”

what position they sleep in

On their tummy or their side! They don’t like going to sleep alone, so they have a couple people-sized stuffed animals to snuggle in bed. When Antonia, Javi, and Avery are all asleep in the same bed, Javi’s in the middle, curled up on Avery’s chest, and Toni is spooning Javi. It’s so good

their favorite drink

An iced mocha with peppermint syrup and LOTS of whipped cream! Most drinks are honestly just a vessel for whipped cream for them

a gift i would give them if i could

A big house with a nice backyard, and also a big dog to snuggle when they have to go to sleep alone! I’m totally not projecting!

THANK YOU AGAIN MAX, this was a lot of fun and I’m even more excited to write about these characters now!!

#goosemixtapes #ask games #this was so much fun akfuhsdfiushdf #midwest monster hunting wip #i should start using character tags again tbh #antonia figueroa #avery #javi justiniano #side note i nearly titled avery's section as #avery nolastname #anyway thanks max ily ily ily #like thunder below

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iris-ymir · 4 years

Text

Guilty or Innocent - Iris

Asked someone to marry you?

“No. Not mi thin’. The whole... damn idea about marriage and shite? I dunno. Like... spending rest or yer life with the same person? Absolutely! Its just... Dont get mi wrong here! But the whole mess about marriage, and such.. It sounds so damn artificial. Do I wanna live with someone for the rest of mi years? Sure! But I dont need a fockin’ ring to prove it to anyone.. Then again.. If someone was to ask mi to marry her? Yeah, why not? If ya want a damn ring, lets get a damn ring!”

Kissed one of your friends?

“Shite... Well, yeah. About that... I have kissed many of mi friends actually.. And let mi tell ya. It always ends up into a fockin’ mess. One way or another! I... guess I should stop kissin’ mi friends..?”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern? “You.. happen to know what Im doin’ for livin’? Yeah. Basically that.”

Ever told a lie?

“Just show me a fockin’ person who has not, and I’ll show ya a bastard who’s lying right there, on dat very damn moment! We all lie... Some more than others, but thats not the point, righto?”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?

“Yeah... Ya remember I just told ya about kissin’ mi friends and shite? Well dat. I messed up real good. Like... the royal mess up! I still have feelin’s for her... Could rip mi damn heart out for her... But I think she just might be lost for mi for good... Im not giving up though! But as thin’s are.. What happened between us... Heck. It might be a lost fockin’ cause.”

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

“Im... so very much a bean flicker, ya know? Never had interest in opposite sex... Does dat answer yer question?”

Kissed a picture? "No? Seven hells, why would I be suckin’ on some damn piece of paper?”

Slept until 5pm? “Im a night owl.. I wake up sometime durin’ the afternoon. So yeah. I will sleep until 5pm, if you dont come and wake mi up. Which is fockin’ annyin’ by tha way.. Just let mi sleep..”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant “Nope.. And dont have a slightest interest in such! ...I would make a fockin’ horrible restaurant worker... Now this.. may sound rather miserable, but my current job is actually mi first real day job ever! ...Or well.. A night job? Anyway.. Yeah.”

Stolen something? “I would say... Try living on streets of fockin’ Limsa Lominsa for good 10 summers, and then... if yer still alive and kickin’, try asking yaself dat question! ...Yes. I have stolen for livin’.”

Been fired from a job? “As I mentioned just a moment ago, this is mi first day job ever... And I have been able to keep it so far! ... And Im about to keep it! I want to see the faces of every poor bastard, who ever said I could not get, let alone keep a job! And well... I actually kinda like mi job, so there’s also dat. And I get a decent money out of it.”

Done something you regret? “... Really? We need to go back to this again? I had.. a really bad week some time ago, ya know. I did.. lot of shite.. The whole thin’ is just.. so foggy in mi head, its annoyin’! But yeah. I think I almost slept with mi friend.. broke lot of stuff.. a damned heirloom notestand.. And in the end, I went and kissed another friend against her will... The... one I fockin’ love.. Damn, I miss her. But it was not mi damn fault!! I had just like the shittiest week ever! ... I dont know... Maybe some of it kinda was.. Can we just go on? I focked up, okai..?”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? “Nnno. Cant remember such thin’. Sometimes a drink has gone like... into mi nose for one or another reason... But actually out of it? I dont think so. Then again, who am I to say! One just cant remember everythin’ ya know?”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? “No, I have not. Tha Shrimp does it, so.. technically I have? But as miself? No. I have not. On purpose at least.”

Sat on a roof top? “Used to do that in Limsa Lominsa. It was.. an awfully calming feeling, ya know? To get away from all the shite, going on down on the streets. Just... sit alone, watch the ships getting loaded.. Watch them sailin’ away. I dont do it anymore though.. The roofs in Ishgard are fockin’ slippery.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have? Iris gives the other a long, dead stare. “... Fockin’ really?! Didn’t I just told ya dat. Ya want some heckin’ details?! Right! So, yes, I was wasted... I shouldn’t have to... And damn yes, it was foolish of mi! Silke. The gal I fancy.. Ya know the type that just... puts damn butterflies into yer tumtum.. rises yer head up to the fockin’ pink clouds faster than anythin’ ya can buy from the streets of Ul’dah.. A damn purdiful fockin’ lass... Damn best thin’ that ever happened to mi... And I focked it up by hecking going and kissing her! So... Ya happy with dis subject now, or are ya gonna poke dat infected wound some more? If so, Im done with dis...”

Sang in the shower?

“Ummm... No.”

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? “Pushed? I... dont think so! Thrown into water with mi clothes on though... Yes! And I tell ya now! That damn merchant had a heckin’ cart full of those apples! Most of dem would have gone on waste aniway! But nooo.. I get thrown into sea, for one damn apple! One apple!! And it was not even worth it. The apple was dry like Sagolii sand the merchant’s fockin’ muffin-hole was propably full of!”

Shaved your head? "Well, I did not!! Blacksoul did durin’ the time he fockin’ kept mi as his personal damn doll or somethin’.. So yeah! It is growin’ back now, but if it looks like a damn rake-raped crow’s arse to ya, its not my fault!!”

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? “I... dont know, actually! Not during mi time with her, no. We kiinda only had a fleetin’ moment though, so did not ‘ave like... too much time to make the lass cry! ... I guess she still believes mi to be dead though. So its possible she cried for mi presumed death in the hands of her husband’s underlin’s... I hope she did... Yeah.”

Shot a gun? “I did, yeah! Ya know... One of those Ishgardian ones. Loud... lot of smoke... A decent kick. Kinda like a bar night to live for! You know, Im actually even rather decent with guns.. Not my style, though.”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? “You gotta be kiddin’ me!! ... Oh wait. Someone I shouldn’t? I dont think so... Seven hells, we heckin’ belong together!! ...She has just... yet to understan it... She will! Sooner or later... Hopefully sooner. Fock’s sake, I miss that silly gal and her nice ass...”

Have / had a tattoo? “Yeah, the one around mi eyes. I also have another one on mi thigh... Iris flowers and thorns... Four of dem. For four kinda important people in mi life. From which, I have actually lost... every single one... Fock’s sake, whats wrong with mi?!”

Liked someone, but will never tell who? “Nno. I have... some difficulties in the ‘never tell’-thingie. Im more of a... ‘tell too much’-type o’ person. But ‘ey! Kinda honesty is a good thing, right?”

Been too honest? “If bein’ too ‘onest means kiinda colorin’ the truth a little to make it hit on the mark better. Yeah. I guess so. I just may overact a bit time to time! But den again... Makes the truth more interestin’ huh?”

Ruined a surprise? “No, I hardly part-take in suprises in general...”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? “Actually... No. I dont know!! Well, mi first girlfriend did, but did she totally mean what she said? Damn, I dont know... Considerin’ the fact she... most likely kinda sold mi out not too long after, it makes it heckin’ hard to believe anythin’ that ever crossed those sweet crimson lips of hers! I wonder why no-one has ever said it though... Im smokin’ hot!! ... So tell me. Am I beautiful..? Hm?”

Stalked someone? “If we call people watchin’ stalkin’ here, then Im damn guilty as a plague rat! But like... in the creepy wai? No! Why the heck would I do somethin’ like that. Dats just sick...”

Thought about murder? “If someone has just taken a royal shite on ya, sweet damn, thats reason enough to just shank the bastard, and scatter the innards into the sea! Most people are so fockin’ rotten though, I dunno if even damn fishies care for their foul organs... Could always make dem into a bagpipe and gift it to their family and friends... Maybe then they could actually get a taste of whut kinda shitebag they been hangin’ around with...”

How about mass murder?

“... Well, as dey say... Apple does not drop far from a tree, and sometimes those apples are rotten before dey hit the ground. So yeah. The last question in mind, why not?”

Cheated on someone? “No! Think anythin’ you want of mi, but Im fockin’ devoted!! ... Well, I have only had one relationship, that lasted for like... couple of months... But damn I was devoted... Up until she choose her husband over mi...”

Gotten so angry that you cried? “Happens time to time... Cryin’.. cleans the system, ya know. Just... Get into middle of nowhere, and scream yer lungs out!”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? “... Im kinda doin’ that right now. Dey will be better off without me. She’s got her damn hero dere, taking care of her... Where does she even need mi anyway? Heck, we barely even knew eachother... ... I think Im better off without dem too.. Shite.. Dey were awfully nice towards mi though.. Do I really miss dem? ... Maybe. But it all went down in flames and bloody sheets, can we talk about somethin’ else?”

Thoughts about suicide? “Sometimes the road just rises up against you... I kinda understand it on some occasions! But overall? Kinda waste...”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend? “Yes? That one mess I mentioned earlier? Ya payin’ attention to dis?”

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? “Used to... Especially in Limsa, it was kinda mi way to get over the holidays. Hated to see bastards walking around all merry and shite. So I drowned mi holidays in a glass. Last Starlight was different though.. Blacksoul kinda forced mi to stay sober over the holidays... Well.. Mostly sober... Dont ya go tellin’ the old goat, but I... I think I kinda liked it. The whole Starlight with Blacksoul and Gramps... I had never really celebrated it with anyone... As miself. Heck, I just wanted mi Silke to be there, heckin’ messin’ around... I wonder if she ever got mi gift...”

Tagged by wonderful @mai-takeda!! 🌹 This was lot of fun..

Tagging @umbralich (Silke) @sharkycatsifoh @hangedemperor @kyrie-silverwings @under-the-blood-moonlight @alun-ura @isuke-ejinn @ishgard @torr-sceadu @lydha-lran @glorysworn @lavender-hemlock @kazexvoss @glorified-thieves @captainkurosolaire @illia-ast @thefreelanceangel @sdavi-kitanni @kitsune-kirei @violet-warder @desimirffxiv @unatobajhiri @gildedandgolden @eo-sul @robyn-sawyer @eitur & anyone who wants to do it! Cansider yourself tagged!

#the Iris within #guilty or innocent #rp #viera

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xoxowrestlinggyrl · 4 years

Text

Exchange

Requested: No

Pairing: Finn Bàlor x Reader

Word Count: 2412

Warning[s]: Alcohol, Angst, Cursing & Fluff

Summary: A few years after breaking up with Finn, he is still in love with Y/N. Y/N has evolved from the person he once knew. He believes that she doing so much better without him, and he will drag her down. In reality, Y/N keeps this facade to hide her true feelings. After a night of drinking, Finn comes to Y/N‘s hotel room unannounced. Y/N let him in and take care of him for the night. Before falling asleep, he reveals his true feelings for her. In the morning, she confront him.

Tag[s]: @wweobsession1029

A/N: This is my very first one shot on here. Please don’t give me too much scrutiny if it’s terrible. Based on the song Exchange by Bryson Tiller. Requests are open!!

This what happens when I think about you. I get in my feelings, I start reminiscing. Next time around, fuck, I want it to be different. Waiting on a sign, I guess it’s time for a different prayer. Lord, please save her for me. Do this one favor for me. I changed my player ways, got way too complicated for me. I hope she is waiting for me.

Tears welled in my eyes as I read over the text messages on Finn’s phone.

Emmy: Finn, are you going to come over tonight?

Finn: Of course, I will. It may be a little while though.

Emmy: Why Finny? It’s been a good week since I saw you!

Finn: I know baby, but I have other things to do tonight before I see you.

Emmy: Is it revolving around that bitch, Y/N?

Finn: Stop referring to Y/N as a bitch.She is one of your best friends, but you still choose to call her that? You know how much it irks me when you call her that.

Emmy: Why don’t you leave her already? You’ve been cheating on her for months. I’m the real woman since I fulfill your needs unlike her. Y/N is nothing more than a boring, naive, little bitch. She gets whatever she wants… However, she is not getting you too! She doesn’t deserve you, Finn, I do.

Finn: You’re out of line Emmy. You know I would never do that to Y/N. I’ll not come over if you keep talking to me like that.

Emmy: Okay… Fine.

Finn has been cheating on me for months… How could I have been so damn oblivious? Emmy is was one of my best friends. I should have known this would happen. Emmy told me I would lose Finn if I continued being “my plain Jane self”. She said someone would swoop in and snatch him up for themselves. Little did I know, Emmy was the very person.

I introduced Finn to Emmy. The worst mistake I ever made… Emmy is right, I a naive as hell.

The sound of footsteps interrupted my thoughts. “Babe, I made ‘he popcorn.” Finn’s accent filled my ears as he walked into the living room.

I got up from the couch, and I made eye contact with him. We planned on watching Lego Movies for the night. No way that was happening.

“Is ‘here anything wrong babe? ‘hy do you have my phone?” Finn asked. His facial expression showed confusion, but I looked into his blue orbs. Finn’s eyes read a man, who was caught red-handed.

“Why do I have your phone?!” I rhetorically asked, throwing my head back. I tried holding my tears back to no avail. Then, I looked at him, head-on. “Your phone went off. I went to reply, but I saw the message from Emmy. I didn’t think that you would be friends with Emmy, let alone, text her. I looked through the messages, and I was “amazed” by what I saw. You’ve been cheating on me with one of my best friends. And you thought I would never find out?! Do you think that I am really that stupid?! You never meant it when you told me you loved me… Didn’t you? Actually, I don’t need you to answer that since it’s crystal clear.” I grabbed my keys off of the coffee table, and I slipped on my shoes.

“Y/N, I love yer. You know that without a doubt. Emmy means nothin’ to me, I promise yer that. Trust me, babe.” Finn said. It sounded like he meant it, but I am not falling for that crap.

I ignored Finn, and I walked to the door. He grabbed my arm, gently as I opened the door.

“Let me go, Finn!!!” I yelled, looking into his eyes with my tear-stained ones.

“No, Y/N, I can’t let yer go. E’ery time I told yer, I loved yer, I meant it. I will ‘lways be in love with yer. Don’t let my mistake changed e’erythin’ between us. Please, don’t ‘eave me Y/N. I’m pleadin’ wit yer.” He pleaded. Finn looked remorseful and apologetic, but I won’t budge. There is no way in hell I will fall for his tricks. This has to be one of those tricks.

“I don’t believe you, Finn. You’re nothing more than a lying, dirty, cheater. I’m not falling for your silly games. Go be with Emmy because I am breaking up with you. I hope you have a nice life with Emmy.” I told him, and I pulled my arm back. I was able to get out of his grip since his grip on my arm softened. Then, I pulled the bracelet he gave me off of my wrist, and I threw it on the ground.

Finn had a blank expression on his face. It was as if he was in a trance-like state. This is a side I never saw from him before. I took this moment to leave. Once I ran out of Finn’s apartment, I ran to my car. When I was in my car, tears flowed out of my eyes like a waterfall. After a few minutes of crying, I started up my car. I drove out of the parking lot…

“Who in their right mind hates pizza? Everyone loves pizza.” Sasha exclaimed.

“Believe me, my cousin hates pizza. She threw up the very first time she ate it.” Bayley said.

“I don’t think I can believe you. There is a kind of pizza for everybody. I don’t think she has found the right pizza for her.” A giggle fell from my lips. Sasha equated finding the right kind of pizza to finding the right person.

“I think pizza is not for her.” Bayley shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve accepted it, and I thnk you should too Sasha.”

“No way.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Y-” I had to interject before they got into a full-blown debate about pizza.

“Stop, Bayley, Sasha, we aren’t arguing about pizza.” I interrupted them. Almost in unison, they pouted. I couldn’t help but laugh at the women.

“Alright Y/N, Sasha and I are planning to go out on the town after Raw. Do you want to come with us?” Bayley asked. Before I could give my answer, I saw Finn in the distance. He was walking down the hall. The moment we made eye contact changed my mind.

“No- I am going to just stay in my hotel for the night.” I stated, turning on my heels and walking away from the women. Three years later… and I still can’t handle being around him. One reason is because I am still in love with him. Why?! He cheated on me. I should have moved on by now. He’s moved on too… Finn’s moved on by now…

I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, "Finn-” I began, but I turned around to see Sasha.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s been three years. You will have to make peace with everything that happened sooner or later.” Sasha told me.

“I know, I know…” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m going to head out since I have no other commitments tonight.” I said, hugging Sasha.

“Okay, but text me when you get to the hotel.”Sasha stated, as I pulled away from the hug.

“You know it.” I said, “See you later.”

“Bye!” I began walking away. Once again, I saw Finn. He stared at me in awe. It was like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. I looked away from him. Whenever he is around, I try saving face. However, I know I am failing at it.

Hours Later

The nightly marathon of Forensic Files was on, which I tune into every night. I sent Sasha a text message once I made it to my room. That was a few hours ago, now it’s nearing two in the morning. I have to go to bed or I will risk being crabby when I have to get up. Just as I leaned over to turn out the lights, I heard a knock on my door. Who could it be at this time of night? A huff fell from lips as I got out of bed. Then, I opened the door, and my eyes widen at the site of the very person behind my door. It was Finn…

“Y/N… ‘ts been sooooo long. We need to talk.” Finn slurred. He was intoxicated, and I couldn’t leave him out in the hall. Who knows what could happen to him. If anything bad were to happen to him, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Finn, come on in.” I said, taking his hand, guiding him into my room. He was stumbling slightly. A chuckle fell from his lips.

“Yer hand is very soft.” He chuckled again, and I shook my head. Then, kicked the door closed with my foot.

“It’s time to lay down Finn. You’re drunk right now, and you need to sleep it off.” I told him, as I sat him onto one of the beds in the room.

“I’m not drunk Y/N. I’m just feelin’ good.” Finn insisted, still slurring his speech.

“We’re not debating this.” I said, guiding him to lay in bed. Then, I put then I put the cover over his body.

Finn pouted, “Yer light ‘ts on. Yer must be stayin’ up. Why can’t I stay up wit yer?” He asked, still pouting. I sighed, and I turned my light out.

“The light is out now Finn. I am going to bed as well.” I insisted, hoping he would believe me.

“Fine Y/N.” He huffed, before rolling to the left side,his back facing me. Hopefully, I will get some sleep. Then, I walked up to my bed, climbing into bed.

After twenty, I believed Finn was asleep at this point. I haven’t heard his voice in a good ten minutes. My eyes began closing, and I felt myself doze off when I heard Finn’s voice.

“Y/N” I heard the man say.

“What is it Finn?”

“I love yer, so much. After all ‘his time, I still am in love with yer. I wish yer could know ’hat. I regret ‘hat I did e’ery day.” My mouth widen in shock. He still loves me? I can’t believe this. Drunken tangents does mean sober thoughts… Right?

“F-” Before I could say anything, I heard snoring. Shit. The alarm had 2:45 in red, so I should go to sleep anyway. I closed my eyes once again before dosing off.

When I woke up in the morning, I heard a groan. I opened my eyes, seeing Finn with his hand on his head.

“Fuck…” Finn groan. He didn’t realize I was up.

“Morning…” I began, and he turned his attention to me, “ You need some aspirin for that headache of yours?” I asked while grabbing the bottle off of the nightstand.

“Yes, please, Y/N.” Finn stated. I got out of bed, untwisted the cap and poured two pills into my hand. Then, I grabbed a water bottle from the mini fridge. I walked over to him, handing the pills and bottle to him, “Here you go.” I said.

Finn smiled, “T’ank yer Y/N.” He said, patting a spot next to him. My eyebrows raised, and I sat next to him. He took the aspirin while drinking his water. There was an awkward silence for a while. “I don’t remember a thing… I was so shitfaced. How did I e’en get ‘ere?”

I looked over at him, “You knew must have my room number since you showed up here last night.” I told him. His eyes widen, as if he knew he fucked up.

“Well, I guess it was just a coincidence.” Finn lied.

“Finn… I don’t think it was. Last night, you told me that you are still in love with me. Also, you regret what happened to us.” I looked him in his eyes. A hint of fear showed in them.

“Damn. I fucked up once ‘gain.” He said, “I know yer hate me. I ruined your friendship with Emmy, I cheated on yer, and I kept yet up wit my bullshit. Hell, I ‘ever deserved yer in the first place. I know damn well you don’t want me back. I ruin e’erything for yer.” Finn got up, “I better go. I placed my hand on his arm, and he looked down at me, confused.

“Sit back down Finn.” He sat back down, next to me. Finn was still confused about what was going on.

“Y/N… What-” He began, but I interrupted him.

“You had your time to speak, now it is my turn.” I said. Then, I took a deep breath. A million things ran through my mind. “Finn, I will tell you, you did hurt me when you cheated on me. Especially since you cheated on me with Emmy. I’m a good actress… I never moved on. I invested more time into wrestling to fill that void. I love you too Finn, I am just not sure if I can-” I started, but he interrupted me.

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re not sure that you can trust me again. I can understand that. I did yer wrong. I’m willing’ to prove to yer that I mean it when I say I love yer. ‘ven if it will take me a thousands years to do so.” Finn said, looking me in my eyes. A smile crept on my lips. It was the affirmation I needed.

“You know what Finn? I am willing to give you another change.” I smiled.

“Really? Yer giving me another chance? I won’t make yer regret it.” He said looking into my eyes. His eyes are still mesmerizing to me after all this time. I tried holding back the urge to kiss him, but he is like a magnetic… The more I tried getting away, the more I get sucked in. He leaned down, slowly, kissing my lips. I kissed him back, almost immediately. Sparks coarse through me like the first time we kissed. I missed lips. After what seemed like eternity, he pulled away from the kiss. His lips were still on mine.

“I love yer Y/N.” He said, smiling

“I love yer too.” I said back to him, a smile on my own lips.

#wwe oneshot #wwe oneshots #wwe imagines #wwe fanfic #finn balor imagine #finn balor x reader #finn balor fanfic #wwe x reader

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mermaid-of-the-valley · 5 years

Text

We’re Dynamite

My part of the collaboration with @theeternalspace. Just wanted to post it up separate from the original so it’s a bit easier to find.

Characters: Virgil, Roman, and Remus(Briefly)

Pairing: Prinxiety

Hero and Villain AU based on this prompt.

The Dazzling Prince, scourge of the city, beauteous lord of all… Probably should have seen this coming.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Roman was racing through the side streets on his motorbike, pursuers hot on his sparkling tail. Honestly, so uncool. You turn a few minor leaguers in for a reduced sentence and suddenly You’re the traitor?! Ridiculous. “It was only a few kilos of coke lost, get over yourselves!” He yelled hysterically.

A bullet ricocheted off the wall beside him. “Okay, we’re doing this.” Autopilot engaged, he flipped around to face his assailants. “So, no one told you life was gonna be this waaay!~ ” Clap, clap, clap, clap. The lane exploded in light waves timed to his performance. The one closest to him had his front tire sheered in half and from there it was a tumble into his two cohorts.

“Woops, that’s going to leave some road rash!” Roman threw his head back, laughing wildly. “Better luck next time, sweethearts!” He twisted back around. Autopilot disengaged, he gave a sharp turn down an alley, jumped the cycle over a car and swiveled deeper into the labyrinth.

All things considered, a quiet night. He sighed. “Siri, text my shadow knight. ‘Hey, Angel. I’m about to knock off a jewelry store for an engagement ring. What cut did you want again?’ Send.”

The ‘message sent’ text bounced with every bump in the road and Roman spent a little too long staring at the screen. He might not have glanced up at all, confident in his bike’s artificial intelligence covering for his gay dumbassery, but then he heard it.

“We’re no strangers to love, you know the rules and so do I!”

Roman screeched to a halt just outside his territory. The music skipped a beat, getting louder.

“A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of, you wouldn’t get this from any other guy!” Left? Right? Where the heck was that stupid song coming from? He rolled out onto the road.

“I just want to tell you how I’m feelin’, gotta make you understand!”

And then he was hit with a truck.

——————————————————————————————

He came to in the vehicle’s flatbed. Almost certainly concussed and his nose bruised if not broken. Well, that would take a bit to heal. Roman pried open his eyes to take in the fishy smelling, green splattered warehouse.

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you! Never gonna let you die, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell you why, just hurt you!~ ”

Aw f*ck, it was Remus.

“Hey, Bro-bro! You look like shit!” His greasy face hovered over Roman’s.

The prince groaned. “Well, it feels like I was hit with a monster truck, you freaking lunatic.”

“Oh, that was just to throw you off balance! I knew you’d be fine! Want to see the tape? I caught the whole thing on the dashcam!” He yanked Roman from the flatbed by a fistful of his uniform. Roman barely managing to catch himself.

Remus cackled. “It was great! Just BANG! Right over the hood! You looked like a deer!”

“Dare I ask what you did with Maggie?”

“She’s a little banged up. The boys took her back to the shop to get better.” His grin was a little too wide.

“If you touch her A.I. again I’ll strangle you.”

“Kinky.” Remus pushed him into a folding chair. It wobbled dangerously backwards before jerking forward once again, Remus’ hands on either side of the seat. “Not that it’s surprising considering your little tryst with the mutant pigeon.”

Roman squinted. “You’re misreading the situation. It’s a heartwarming story of enemies to lovers! … With a little tequila for flavor.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t fluffed those wings?” He wiggled his eyebrows, but the smile was strained. “Faced assault with a friendly weapon? Done the devil’s dance?” His voice was rising in irritation. “Gone out on the town covered in feathers?!” He shook his brother’s form.

Roman brought up a foot and kicked him off. “Take several steps off, Remus!” He snapped, and then winced at his own high pitch. “Have a little class!” He rubbed at his eyes before looking up to catch his twin making lewd gestures.

“Getting whipped by a parakeet! That’s what you are! Come on, Roman, we never hang out anymore! When was the last time we set fire to a dairy farm or unscrewed the color covers on a traffic light?”

“We never did those things.”

“Oh right, that was a dream I had last week.” He tugged an eyebrow. “But we could still do it!”

“I already have plans for this evening, Remus. The first of which now requires stealing nanobots capable of repairing internal contusions!”

Remus pouted. “Oh, poo.” He tapped a finger against his side and something clicked open on his hip.

Roman pushed himself up, more than aware of Remus’ hallucinogenic proclivities and not at all keen to experience them. “You’ll get over it, you rancid swordfish. We have literal decades to do… whatever demented chores your mind conjures up!” He stumbled backwards towards the door with as convincing a smile as he could manage. “Surely one more night won’t kill you!”

“Might kill you though.” Remus muttered.

“What?”

“…I’ll see you next weekend.” He’d just gotten the door unlocked, when he was darted in the back. “Ow! Mother of Hell, Remus!” He wrenched the needle out and stared down at what little yellow liquid was left in the vial. Wait, yellow? “Shit.”

Remus wasn’t so much grinning as he was cracking his face in half. “DeeDee said you might not be too keen on hanging out, so he offered a compromise.”

And now there were two of him, that wasn’t right. “Don’ think that means what you think it does…”

“You’ll get over it, right? Literal decades to do whatever chores I come up with?”

Echoing. Not good. Getting dizzy. Exit plan Alpha. “Remus,” Roman’s smirk was just his side of warped. “Why ya gotta be so Ruuude?~”

—————————————————————–

Virgil would like to be able to tell his friends and family that he got a good night’s sleep and was just shocked awake by a repetitive knocking on his wall. Unfortunately, he’d been awake and watching “Serial Killer Files” online when, what he eventually thought was, a large bird rammed into his window and rolled down his roof.

His first thought for the culprit was Mothman. In his defense, he hadn’t slept in over 18 hours and had a higher than healthy amount of Monster in his system.

Nevertheless, something big was on his lawn now and his heroic instincts demanded he try to help… or at the very least move it somewhere it could die with dignity.

However, he very nearly changed his mind when he saw who it was. The dastardly prince had somehow found his home and was sprawled over his porch step. His face was pinched with pain and that was hardly the last of it. Virgil glanced to his neighbors on either side, thankfully unaware of the crash.

Princey groaned and against his worse judgement, the Seraph pulled his enemy into the house. “This better be a real emergency.” He turned the man on his side in the entryway and closed the door. “Okay, no commentary or I use peroxide.” He muttered to the half-aware villain.

He didn’t see the easy nod when he stood and ran to the kitchen. The supplies in his home weren’t as good as headquarters, but they’d do for the time being.

He paused, what was the protocol for this? A known threat to the city had found his house. How did he find his house? Virgil was never drunk enough to let that slip, he made sure of it! “Ugh, the minute he’s not bleeding on the carpet…” He compromised with himself, already kneeling next to the Prince again.

“Any trips or traps I should know about?” He asked, turning his charge gingerly onto his back.

A shake of the head. “You must be in bad shape if you’re not talking.” Virgil carefully slipped off the layers of padded cloth, laying a blanket over his patient’s lower half for modesty. Most of it seemed superficial, though he did have a disconcertingly dark bruise on his side and abrasions lining his legs. Virgil set to work.

“Are you…? Well, obviously, you’re not okay, but-” Nothing but steady breathing and staring. Virgil stilled. “Okay, I know what I said before, but you’re freaking me out. Talk to me. Are you in pain?”

“Hurts a little bit.” Virgil sighed in relief at hearing his voice. “Dizzy.”

“What happened to you?”

“Hit by a truck.”

…Unexpected. “Your bike didn’t see that one coming?”

“Maggie was off.” The prince raised a hand and flapped it slowly back and forth, bizarrely fixated on it.

“You named it-? Ugh, why am I even asking?” Virgil pasted down the last bit of gauze.

“Cause you’re curious.” His floaty hand tapped the one Virgil was still using to hold pressure.

“Can you tell me who did this?” Virgil questioned, unfortunately used to the man’s weird, touchy nature.

“The Duke.” He grumbled, eyes firmly on their hands.

Virgil was confused, the name seemed familiar, but he was usually fighting Princey and Logan’s patrols ran deeper underground than his. “Who’s that?” The man’s teeth clacked with how fast he closed his mouth, lips pulling down into a tight line. “Don’t be difficult now. Otherwise I can’t help.”

“M’brother.”

Now Virgil was confused and very freaked out. He blinked hard, trying to process all of the things wrong with what he just heard. “Are you concussed or something?”

“Nooooo.” He whined. “’M drugged, you silly birb.”

“That’s better?” Virgil hooked his arms around the villain and started to heft him upstairs.

The prince rubbed his arm thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He squinted at his rescuer. “Where’s your feathers?”

Virgil only just realized how dressed down he was compared to their typical interactions. “They’re not always visible, I have to live some kind normal life, right?”

“No, you don’t.” It was a surprisingly serious statement for how he had been acting. But Virgil had heard similar comments from him before, usually followed by rhetoric on power and the freedom it offered. A lot of times it was hard to tell what was just repeated and what was true to the Prince.

“Table that discussion for when you’re not loopy.” He stepped into the guest room at the top of the steps and lay the man on the bed. “Was your brother the one who made the drug?”

“No. His friend.” Virgil waited for any other information, but none was volunteered.

Then he had a thought. “What’s your name?”

His foe smiled in the same dreamy fashion. “Dazzling Prince.”

“Tell me your real name.”

His face pinched again, but Virgil’s suspicions were confirmed when he let slip: “Roman.”

“I think whatever you were dosed with makes you susceptible to suggestion.”

Roman kept up the mopey expression, eyes now slightly clouded. “Guess so.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to accidentally make you move and agitate your injuries, but by the time I thought to ask a question that was the only one I could think of and it felt like the silence was getting awkward, so it just kind of fell out, and by that point it was too late to back pedal.” Virgil rambled out in one breath.

And with that Roman huffed what might have been a laugh under better circumstances. “Guess that’s fine then. Needed a reason to go full supervillain anyway. Might as well make it a petty one.”

“What? No! Don’t do-” Virgil cut himself off, remembering the predicament they were both in. He looked away, glaring at the floor. Roman rubbed his arm with a sloppy smirk.

“You’re too good.”

“For you? Obviously.”

“In general. You’re soft on a lot of crooks.” He leaned back into the bed, eyes drooping. “I’ve noticed how you act to the cops when you hand us over, Softy Seraph.”

“Few crimes are committed by hardened criminals. A lot of them just need help.” After all, where would he be without Patton?

“Sounds fake, but go off I guess.” He mumbled.

The hero sat at the edge of the bed. “You’re making it hard not to throw you out.”

Roman closed his eyes, seemingly content to let Virgil have the final say.

At least that’s what he thought before a foot prodded his back, almost exactly where his wings were painted. Virgil turned to tell him off when he heard the humming.

And saw the room sparkling. Little balls of light, opaque and floating, spawned around his room in time with specific notes in the song. Roman directing their appearance without looking, extending a pinky one direction and then his index finger another. They would follow his lines, streaking like stars and for once, completely harmless in action.

He took a breath. “Cherry lips, crystal skies. I could show you incredible things. Stolen kisses, pretty lies. You’re the queen, baby, I’m your king. Find out what you want, be that boy for a month, wait the worst is yet to come.~”

Virgil grimaced. “Oh, no.”

Roman grinned at the commentary, but didn’t stop. “Screaming, crying, perfect storms. I can make all the tables turn. Rose garden filled with thorns, keep you second-guessing like: “Oh my God, who is he?” I get drunk on jealousy, but I’ll come back each time I leave. ‘Cause darling you’re a nightmare dressed like a daydream.~”

“I’ll smother you with a pillow.”

“Doubt it. I’ve got a blank space, baby. And I’ll write your name.~” He slid in, quieter than before. His eyelids cracked opened the barest bit, hands still outstretched to maintain the glowing orbs. “You’re really pretty when you multiply by the way.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “How many of me do you actually see?”

“Three.” He dropped his arms and the lights dimmed away, leaving spots in the hero’s vision where they were. “Four, if you count the outline.”

“Outline?”

Roman gestured at him vaguely. “The sparkles hiding your wings, they make up your shape.”

“What are you talking about?” Virgil sputtered, resisting the urge to glance around at whatever figment Roman’s mind conjured. “Can you actually see my wings?” Had he always seen them? “Answer me.”

Roman blinked a few times, getting drowsy. He hummed noncommittedly. That floaty feeling was coming back threefold without the adrenaline, and every other word started to reverb. There was a snap near his face.

“Hey, focus, Princey.”

It was like falling asleep when you’d been trying to stay up on spite and caffeine. Something pressing down and disconnecting him from reality. It wasn’t awful, almost the opposite in fact, but he wasn’t super excited about what it took to get there. Fighting was easier without orders, but Seraph seemed slow on that uptake.

Roman locked eyes with Virgil, completely under his sway and only distantly aware of it. Virgil sighed in agitation. Just looking at the prince proved he’d screwed up again. His pupils were totally blown and unfocused. He tugged his hair in frustration. “Dammit, why do you always do this to me?!”

He curled over the edge of the bed, trying to regain a sense of calm. Stupid energy drinks. Virgil was totally out of depth with this one. The villain beside him was slowly sinking into the sheets and Virgil found himself questioning how regularly he got the chance to sleep.

Resigning himself to postponing his planned night of horror for a different one, Virgil carefully maneuvered the man under the comforter and then left to change into pajamas. He couldn’t exactly leave the man unsupervised in his house anyway.

He found himself humming a half-remembered tune as he brushed his teeth, keeping an ear trained on the room. Almost unthinkingly, he laid out an unopened toothbrush and paste.

“…Break all the rules, slippin’, runnin’ hot, baby ‘cause we’re dynamite. Gonna let the world…”

Walking in again he saw Roman had slid himself lower into the bedding, nose barely visible and hair tossed across the pillow. Virgil propped himself against the headboard, on top of the comforter, but a quilt tucked around his legs. He closed his eyes, resting, not sleeping. Not with the Prince next to him.

Roman’s breaths rumbled slow and deep in his chest. It was so weirdly rhythmic, Virgil had to wonder if it was a side effect of his powers. “You could do more you know.” He whispered to the room. Not for the first time, the idea of simply telling his enemy to give up his criminal ways while he was primed crossed his mind.

Instead, he took a heavy breath, crossed his arms and hunched over in a light doze.

Downstairs, Virgil’s hero-line phone buzzed with a delayed text from the man he saved.

#TSS #Sanders Sides #Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Superhero AU #Prinxiety #TW: Drugging #TW: Mind Manipulation #TW: Injury #Remus Sanders

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babbushka · 5 years

Note

zannah if you’re still doing prompts can you do Y with our fave west virginian???

thank you for sending this in!! I hope you like it :)

Word count: 1500

Warnings: the most mild angst possible lol

It was nearin’ closing time forDuck Tape, and Clyde was looking forward to it. He’d been on his feet for asolid six hours straight, and now that the rush of his late-night clients wasover, he was starting to feel the effects. All he wanted was to lock up andcollapse in his bed. He was fixin’ to put himself in a sour mood, his favoritepatron nowhere in sight, and hadn’t been all evening.

That was, until you burst inthrough the front door, with such energy that the three remaining patrons andClyde all looked up with curiosity.

“Sorry.” You apologized to them,embarrassed.

The old grizzled men nursingtheir beers paid you no mind after that, and you made your way to the barcounter where Clyde was trying his very best not to blush.

“I was beginnin’ to think yaweren’t comin’.” He said quietly, already working on making your favoritedrink.

“I’m sorry, work made me staylate.” You said miserably, “I tried to get here as fast as I could.”

And that was true, you had spedlike never before, the countdown on the clock making you so nervous you evenran through a yellow light or two. That made Clyde blush even more, a shy smilegracing his lips as he slid the drink over to you.

“It woulda been okay, ya know.”He said in that same even tone, lifting his gaze to meet yours. He tried not tobe blinded by the affection in your eyes, but oh he was failing at that real bad.

“No it wouldn’t’ve.” You shookyour head with a shy smile of your own.

You had been coming in to DuckTape every single night for the past seven weeks – not that Clyde was countin’or anything. You came in for one drink, but you usually stayed for hours, relaxingand talking with him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He had developed the worst crushof his life over the course of them seven weeks, and it was gettin’ to thepoint where he was gonna have to do something about it. He was convinced youdidn’t feel the same, that the curse would catch up to him once more and he’druin the one real friendship he had built outside of his family.

“Have one yourself, on me.” Yousaid, tapping your finger on the cold glass of the drink, “If you’d like ofcourse.”

Clyde nodded gratefully, it waslike you had read his mind.

“I reckon I would.” Clyde said,pouring himself the same beverage from the tap. “Thank you (Y/N).”

The two of you clinked theglasses together before taking a long sip, and you chuckled at how eager he wasto down his beer.

“Been a rough day?” You askedwhen Clyde went in for another one.

“Hmm, better now that you’re here.”He admitted.

The two of you looked at oneanother, unsure of what to do. If it were up to you, you’d reach across the barand pull him into a kiss, wrap your arms around his neck and tangle a hand in hishair. But he surely had no interest in you, you were just a paying customer isall – right?

“It’s mighty quiet in here, I’llget us a song?” You slid off the barstool, getting your feelings all hurt fromthe thought. “Wanna hear something special?” You asked him.

He could tell something was wrongby the slight tone in your voice, but he didn’t know what, or how to fix it.

“Anything you pick’ll be special,darlin’.” He shook his head.

Darlin’ -- did he call anyone else that? Or was that something justfor you?

You wished you could ask, without making things awkward. Thisfriendship with Clyde was your most precious thing, if you screwed it up bymaking him uncomfortable or angry, it felt like it’d ruin your whole life.

You flipped through the faded jukeboxrecords and punched in the number for one you hadn’t heard in a long time,forgetting the name but remembering the melody. The music sounded softly, andonce it was good and goin, you returned to your seat, your drink, your bartender.

“This one’s a bit of a sad song,don’t ya think?” Clyde asked, wiping down the counter. His heart ached for you,wanting to hold you tight. He needed to distract himself from just reaching foryou, so the counter it was.

“It’s a sad song kinda night.” Youshrugged, sipping your beer.

“Now why’s that, angel?” Clyde,and there he went again with the names.

“You’ll be closin’ up in an hourand then I’ll have to go home.” You said, resting your head on one of yourhands.

“Well, we got an hour.” Clyde said,and you smiled.

The two of you spent the hourtalking and talking, catching up on everything. The three other patrons of thebar all said their goodbyes, walking home down the street where they lived. Itwas just the two of you and the jukebox, laughing about stupid jokes andquietly exchanging theories and stories, making eyes at each other the wholetime.

The more you spoke and laughedwith Clyde, the less sad you felt. It was enough for you to just be around him,whether he felt the same about you or not. It was enough to be in his company,to sit in the bar and blush at his sweet accent when he called you little petnames.

You finished your beer prettyearly on and had called it quits, but Clyde was a couple deep, and he wasstarting to panic. He had planned on telling you today, had planned on gettingit all off his chest, but now the time was coming and he had to actually do it.

His stomach grumbled loudly, andyou laughed at the sound.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t closethe kitchen so early.” Clyde chuckled, feelin’ only a little embarrassed.

“What are ya hungry for?” Youasked, looking at your watch. It was only nearin’ one in the morning, you couldprobably call to have pizza delivered or run out for greasy fast food.

Clyde looked at you long and hardthen, figuring now was as good a time as any.

“You.” He said, making your heartbeat so hard you swore he could hear it.

You had to have heard wrong – he couldn’thave possibly said he wanted you?

“You’re drunk.” You laughed, buthe shook his head, making you genuinely smile.

“Oh yeah? Well you’re beautiful.”He said, nerves wracking through his body, making him go all soft spoken. “Don’t take a drunk man to know it, neither.”

After a beat of silence, youdetermined that no this wasn’t a dream, and no you weren’t hallucinating. Youlooked into his eyes, really looked at him, and saw how nervous he was. Thepoor man was practically shaking, his mouth set in a line that you knew was himpreparing for rejection. Hope swelled in your chest, and you chewed your lip,your cheeks bright red.

“You really think so?” Youwhispered, the biggest grin on your face.

“I do.” He replied right away,his confidence slowly building. You hadn’t slapped him, or left, or told himyou just wanted to be friends yet, which was more than he was expectin, and itmade his own heart thud wildly in his chest. “I think a lot of things about ya.”

“Why don’t you come on the otherside of this here bar and tell me some of ‘em?” You asked with wide eyes and asmile, grateful for the privacy of an empty bar when he actually did.

“I’ll tell ya every day, if you’dlet me.” He whispered as he took your hand in between his own. You didn’t evenflinch at the cold metal of his prosthetic, and it made him emotional in a wayhe couldn’t really say. “I’d make you my girl, take ya home and tell ya adifferent one every night.”

The words filled you with joy, somuch so that you felt your cheeks grow wet from little tears that spilled.

“Oh Clyde, I’ve been waitin’ along time to hear you say that.” You said, feeling silly for crying, until yourealized his eyes were shining too.

“Well, whaddaya say?” He asked,still after all this, nervous.

You stood up on your tip toes tokiss him, square on the mouth. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, kissingyou lazily, happily. You felt giddy, like it was the first time you had everkissed a man, the first time you had ever fallen in love. Clyde kissed you andkissed you, his mustache and goatee tickling your cheeks and your lip, makingyou smile and giggle against him. He couldn’t help but smile too, the two ofyou too happy to kiss each other properly.

“I say it’s closing time.” Yousaid, when the two of you broke away for air.

Clyde never locked up faster in hiswhole life, never more eager to go home than he was now that he was going homewith you.

Tagging some pals! :) As always, if you’d like to be added or taken off the list please just shoot me a message! @fullofbees@spinebarrel @oh-adam@dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man@thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom@driverficarchive@aweirdlookingtree@rosalynbair@redhairedfeistynerd@adamsnackdriver@glitzescape@arwarz @adamsnacc-kler

#reader insert #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan/reader #logan lucky #prompt #my writing #i love our sweet country boyyy #dreamboatdriver #cowboy answers

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quarantingz · 4 years

Text

oop mind dump(!), half-baked thoughts (!), usual confusion(!), being busy(!), efficiency(!), procrastination(!) & none of the above(!)

enjoy :))

[written on] 7 april, tuesday

[intended to post on] 7 april, tuesday

[intended to post 2.0 on] 8 april, wednesday

[finally posted, after much procrastination and probably just laziness, on] 9 april, thursday

Hi there!

With a lack of a profound statement to start off this entry, I’ll just say this…my mind is as scattered and non-sensical as ever! What’s new?

Second coffee in, I’m thinking about, as the title suggests, a lot of things (with as much caffeinated enthusiasm as it suggests)! I definitely didn’t think I was going to be writing a post today because I thought yesterday’s entry [monday’s] was heavy enough that I could simmer and ponder over it for a while longer. But I guess, as things go, and because I naturally must write things down, I need to write everything that’s going on in my head right now - before I forget, but also so I can pRoCeSs it :)

I will definitely not get through everything I think I want to write about in this one post, and for the sake of keeping it short and still somewhat legible and engaging, I will try my best. Maybe I will do a part two (??). Hmmm maybe I won’t haha. We’ll see how this goes.

Here we go…enjoy…

So as I was swinging my arms and getting a good stretch of the legs on our family “night” walk yesterday, Tali asked me, “did you have a good day today?”. It was a simple question and one I always answer with a “yeah kinda, did a few things, wish I did more, but tomorrow will be better!”. I like looking on the bright side, but it really got me thinking about what it means to be busy and how society has placed a lot of emphasis on it currently.

I recently read an article on It’s Nice That called, “You are More than Your Output”, which was an interesting read on this idea of “busyness”, the pressures on what we do for a living, self-definition from this and our relationship with work. Oosh, it was confronting and I definitely needed to discuss this with someone further. So of course I decided to send it to Gwen, Cullz and Paulz (there’s something so comforting and encouraging to know that I have people in my life who creatively challenge and most importantly, understand my journey as a creative, post-graduation).

Twas good discussions and what they said was so so good (got my brain juices flowing for sure), but I want to briefly touch on this topic and my thoughts about this…I love being busy, in fact, as I’ve mentioned before, I thrive off being busy. As bizarre as it sounds, I’m almost like an adrenaline junkie who gets off of busy schedules and long lists of TO-DOs. I like to ambitiously jam-pack my day with the most things I can do and “tick off” in ONE day. Sounds overwhelming and you’re probably thinking I’ll burn out eventually and I won’t always like this once I have a full-time job. But for now, I like that feeling. It makes me be and feel productive. And although I regularly remind my friends to take a break and relax in order to rejuvenate, I can’t seem to take this advice myself. I constantly feel like I’ve drunk five cups of coffee within 20 minutes, so my heart usually feels like it’s going to beat its way out of my chest, and my mind is so full, it’s almost incomprehensible and confusing.

Anyway, back to productivity…this feeling is probably the reason why I struggle with self-love a lot - if I’m not achieving everything on my list, I’m not being productive enough, it is not a “good day” and I’m not…“succeeding” in life. Which again, is all about MINDSET, people!

Yes, everything does comes with balance, prioritising and re-evaluating what’s the most important things in life at any given time. Sorry, but I feel like this entry will just raise more questions and half-baked thoughts (ha, managed to tick that off the list!), than actually solving anything.

I guess what I want to touch on here, is not so much on the debate about whether you should be busy or not, it’s more about dismantling these personal-constructs that we have in our minds…

Ahhh, another topic to elaborate on (solely) for another time I guess (…??).

*** SIDE-NOTE (COZ WE LOVE A SIDE-NOTE) ***

Right now [tuesday, 2.40pm], my eldest sister sits on the La-Z-Boy, rocking back and forth trying to write a new idea for a new script. My dad too, sits facing the same way as her towards the ranch slider and garden, bowl of sweet mung bean soup in hand, relaxing in a foldable picnic chair for his “break”. I can’t help but smile at this scene and feel very happy and content in where I am right now. It also makes me chuckle at the contrast of their peaceful reflections with my scattered mind and furious typing. My frantic fingers almost echo in the quiet space that is my living room. I like this. I had only wanted to write one word down for this entry before I forgot it (then finish this piece tomorrow, when I felt like it), but here I am having written over one page long. I’m also not listening to music, which is rare for me as I like dwelling in the emotions and vibe of the music while I write - it helps me as you know by now. But in this moment, it’s just Tema, my dad, me, my typing and my silent scattered thoughts.

*** END OF SIDE-NOTE (ACTUALLY A SMALL APPRECIATIVE-NOTE) ***

Back to the point…the mere act of typing furiously on my keyboard (ooh links!) actually makes me feel busy and definitely makes me look busy. When someone says, “oh Alyssa, you’re always so busy” or “bro, when are YOU free?”, it kind of makes me feel good - that I’m somehow “succeeding” in life because I actually have things to do. But isn’t it all superficial and just an appearance? Because in my mind, I’m not achieving as much as I want to do within a day or week. Anyway, maybe that’s why a lot of people, even myself, give into this idea of busyness - because we’re fed this belief that to be “successful”, means that we not only occupy ourselves to the max, but we look the part too. That’s apparent in any bustling city, like Auckland, or London and Paris. People are constantly moving and doing things. These cities never sleep and apparently that idea means those cities and people are thriving and being “successful”.

I guess another aspect I want to discuss is the idea of efficiency. For some reason, that word is so mockable, but maybe that’s just because my boyfriend uses that word excessively and I like to laugh at him (because he’s silly, not because I’m a bully, woah, CHILL). So to be busy, and therefore “successful” is also associated with being efficient. Which also relates to B, who applies lip balm VERY STRANGELY, but efficiently…he applies it by swiping the stick across his top and bottom lip at the same time, followed by a giddy “EFFICIENCY G!” EVERY. TIME. This is quite like the idea of “killing two birds with one stone”. The idea of doing the most you can and preferably at the same time in order to optimise time. It also links with the saying, “time is of the essence”. Because we have such a limited time on Earth, people feel like they have to fill everyday and every waking hour doing something - or else we feel unproductive and ultimately a “failure”. I’m not saying everyone feels like this (I do), or that efficiency is stupid and entirely negative. I think it’s entirely individual and lies within our perceptions of the things we actually do and hope to do. Everything is relative (??).

Which brings me to the subject of procrastination. For example, in the span it has taken me to write this blog post, I’ve made myself a bowl of plain porridge for my late 2pm lunch (oop photo reference - twas really nice actually), a toastie with salami, sweet thai chilli sauce, harissa sauce and a lot of pepper (odd mix I know), which I had at 4pm, but now consider as my dinner coz now I’m stuffeddddd. I’ve also made hummus (which I think I want to write about next - there’s a metaphor in there that I want to exploit lol) for the fam, folded all of the whites and made the cinnamon apple filling for Tema and I’s mini pies. Talk about procrastination…see here, maybe this isn’t “procrastination”!

The issue lies in how we prioritise and give importance to certain things in our life. And in this case, I’m still being “busy”, but my perception of what I’ve done is that these are menial tasks - they are of lesser importance and priority compared to other things on my to-do list. Again, it is all relative. This comparison between certain things we do is what makes us fall into this trap of self-punishment and “failure” (again, maybe it’s just me). So when we do the thing that seems less important, we consequently feel unproductive . But I had been meaning to make hummus since last week, and I intended to eat lunch at 12.30pm, but got too busy looking through some design concepts for my friend, AND I was meant to fold the whites so my dad could have a clean set of singlets for this week. And lol, I wanted to make pie filling because we all craved something sweet (can’t we just do things just coz?). Looking over these, all of them are important! But why do we prioritise our jobs as so and essentially, degrade our life choices??!

Okay, I think I’m going to wrap this up because there’s no point to this entry anymore. But it was interesting to type out all these random thoughts and somehow try to weave them together. But as always, this is just a ramble. You're confused, I’m confused, we’re ALL confused.

(Or maybe I wanted to see whether you could keep up with my 100 mph train of thoughts hehe)

So to tie everything up in a big, definitely-not-an-indecisive-red-or-maybe-blue-nah-feelin-green-now-BOW…be busy, don’t be busy. Procrastinate, don’t procrastinate. BUT, be kinder to yourself. You don’t have to be busy nor productive - give yourself some slack, you’re doing the best you can! So practice SeLf-LoVe.

You owe yourself thatttt much :)

p.s. I think this post was more me procrastinating about writing and posting, because clearly, I took my time procrastinating and eventually posting three days later than when I first wrote this.

Anyway, have a great day y’all (productive or busy or none of the above)!

- a

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