I'd Eat Ur Art But It Looks Like A Lot Of People Have Already Gotten A Bite... Is There Any Leftovers?

When you are at a funeral and your coworkers suck

under the red hood

DR RATIO ANALYSIS

SPOILERS FOR 2.1 CONTENT!

Now, you might be saying - "Aurae, Oh No! and Are You Satisfied? are much too basic songs to analyze Dr. Ratio to! Just because he's a scholar doesn't mean that he has academic trauma!" WRONG! Before we start, I have been researching psychology for approximately six years and I plan to go into it professionally. HOWEVER, that said, I am NOT a professional (YET. One day I will be. Yay for Aurae!) so understand that everything I come to conclusions about has been analyzed with some personal judgement, personal interpretations, and this is just what I have concluded with the info that I have deconstructed from his brain. If you disagree, that's fine!

I will be pulling from my own experiences with being a "golden" and "gifted" child, as well as the experiences I've had speaking to other people who were those. I will also be pulling from my experiences of researching and seeing how people with superiority complexes work, as well as diving into how those work (from what I've seen, as well as how they conceal a lack of self-esteem).

OKAY, NOW THAT THAT LONG AHH DISCLAIMER IS OVER, ALLOW ME TO WORK MY PSYCH ENJOYER MAGIC! Let's deconstruct Dr. Ratio like a lego toy.

Let's start off with how Dr. Ratio presents himself. When you first meet him, he seems like a haughty, arrogant asshole. He likes to PRESENT himself as a stoic, superior scholar who is purely in it to win it, and I got total "*stares down at your tiny body and laughs at how you lack knowledge*" vibes at the very start, due to how he goes around calling people idiots all the time. However, he DOES lose the idgaf war, and we can very quickly see that he does care for other people, even if in his own, strange way. Dr Ratio presentation: An asshole. The reality?

His entire character is based around the idea of helping the masses. He wishes to spread knowledge through the cosmos and give people who didn't have access to it, access. He's a harsh teacher, and calling people 'idiots' is NOT the way to motivate them, but he's doing his best™.

Actually, no, I'm going to go full psych into this. Okay, so here starts the Dr. Ratio and my FATHER COMPARISONS. My father is a professor and he is often called a harsh grader by his students. However, I've spoken to him multiple times because I was curious - why is he so harsh and diligent with his grading system? The answer is - he wants them to actually learn. When he's grading, he gives them harsh marks because he wants them to know exactly where they messed up, and he's always willing to stay after hours to help students understand where they can't. My father also is an enjoyer of knowledge, and for as long as I've remembered, he has prioritized teaching me how to think critically. He wants me to be able to think for myself - and I think that's what Dr. Ratio wants, too. He wants for his students to be able to fully comprehend and absorb the information that he teaches, and although his methods are harsh, he genuinely wants to help. My father's like this too - he hates students that waste his time or aren't here because their hearts are in it. Dr. Ratio hates people who aren't taking their education seriously because knowledge is important. Knowledge is a tool, and to disregard it completely is lowkey kind of insulting - especially when there are people who weren't privileged enough to actually get it, so this isn't something that you should take for granted. Dr. Ratio despises people who take knowledge for granted.

Also, I disagree with the claims that say that Dr. Ratio hates the genius society. He shows open respect for them in his voice lines. Just check them if you need proof. Also, I'll delve into the idea of Aeons and recognition later.

Now that we’ve established that Dr. Ratio kins my dad, let’s let's tackle the 'stoic' allegations. He is LOSING the idgaf war. Like, really badly. He has a temper of a thousand suns and snaps at people frequently, despite his 'impassive' face, his tone holds a LOT of emotion. He seems to feel very deeply and has a shit ton of empathy for others - why else would he be dedicating his entire career to helping others? Of course, he doesn't express this in 'typical' ways of being openly kind - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't care for other people. In fact, he seems to be pretty good at putting himself in the shoes of others and understanding them - expressed in the 2.1 quest where he tells Aventurine to tell him if he can't hold on any longer. Also, he loses the IDGAF war because he is actively trying to help people who want to learn and trying to spread logic and knowledge across the cosmos to those who didn't have it before. Would a man who didn't GAF do that? No!

Now that we've covered his view on knowledge and the way that he presents himself, let's turn to the way that he SEES himself. Now, this is where we get into the nitty gritty of gifted child trauma & academic trauma as well as crippling expectations. It's literally explicitly said in his character stories that he sees himself as mediocre, and it's canon that he doesn't have a good view of himself. His self-esteem is down in the fucking trenches along with my sanity as I write this analysis. The reality is - being called a genius your whole life doesn't really make you feel better about yourself. I'd know. I was. In fact, it makes you feel fucking worse when you can't live up to an expectation. We all fail in life. It's part of being human. But when you're held to such high standards - idolized for your knowledge and the way that you're 'gifted' - the crash comes really fucking hard. Failure is inevitable, and when people who are held on that pedestal experience it, they take it really bad.

The reality is that nobody - not even geniuses - are perfect, but you grow up believing that you are. Then, when you fail for the first time, it all comes tumbling down. The first time I came home with a bad grade was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I hadn't studied because I was arrogant and I thought that I was smart enough to pass without putting any extra effort into it - because I was a 'gifted' child, right? I should've been able to do it without studying like the other kids. And that's the thing with gifted children – you grow reliant on that title. You cling onto it for dear life for motivation, as well as self-perception. Little by little, the person you are falls apart as you slave away to the perception other people have of you. I think basically every gifted child that I've ever spoken to is a victim of this – and of course, you can heal from this mindset - but it's a hard one to shake.

Ratio's way of presenting himself as being a 'genius' and 'arrogant' also seems to contradict the way that he calls himself 'mundane' at the same time. However, these are two mindsets that can coexist. One part of you believes that you are a genius and that you are perfect, while the other part is crumbling and calling yourself good-for-nothing every time you make a mistake. It's a tiring cycle to live in. This usually leads to people shutting themselves out and closing themselves off after living like that, pushing back your own feelings in favour of being the perfect child. However, we don't know the exact details of Dr. Ratio's childhood, but we can infer that he was held to a pedestal, and this is a very harmful mindset for a child to have.

His superiority complex comes both from how other people view him, but it's a way to cope with his crippling lack of self-esteem. I'm sorry my guy. Also helping others probably helps him feel like he's worth something and makes him feel better because he bases his entire worth off of what he can do and how he can help others. However, this is just my personal interpretation backed by what I have already deconstructed. 

In general, this is an easy way to crush self-esteem. You spend your whole life working to meet the image of what other people think you are. In fact, another reason why Dr. Ratio might be so harsh is because that’s the kind of attitude he holds towards himself when conducting research – he’s as hard on himself as he is to others. You end up hating the idea of failure, instead of seeing it as it should be - a way to improve and grow. Actually, I think this could be a reason that he went out of his way to break that illusion of 'worshipping geniuses' in the Space Station. Maybe some sort of childhood connection? Personal connection? In his endeavour to spread more knowledge and make people think for themselves and not blindly follow geniuses, to wake them up and let them think for themselves - maybe, somewhere, in there, he's helping that little child that was almost dehumanized for his intelligence. TLDR: Conflicting mindsets due to trauma, brain vs heart almost - his knowledge that he is a genius vs the crippling lack of his self worth.

Now that we've established Dr. Ratio's self worth, let's take a look at the impact Aeons had on him. Nous, the Aeon of Knowledge itself. I think in a world where the Gods are real, tangible beings that you can reach out and talk to - it makes sense that someone with high ambition and someone who's been called a genius his whole life would seek the confirmation of Nous. When you're a man of knowledge, and you've spent your whole life working with it, being praised for it – it feels natural to look for a god to look down upon you and bless you, right? The Genius Society – it should house him, because he is a genius as well, right? Imagine this – you have been called a genius your whole life, held to that kind of pedestal for so long, and now you wait for the recognition of the Gods. Because if you truly are a genius – then surely, a higher being will recognize your intelligence, right?

The invitation never comes.

And then, comes the doubt.

What if I'm really not a genius? What if everything I've worked for is a lie? Aeons are beings that are 'absolute'. If the god of Knowledge won't accept you or even cast a glance upon you, does that mean that everything was wrong. Gods see more than humans, after all. Gods know more than humans - and that spiral... I think you can see if. (If you don't let me know. I will ramble about how a failure like that can make you spiral down into a worse mindset). 

However, the reason why Ratio was never invited to the Genius Society is simple. It’s because he LOSES THE IDGAF WAR. Now, if we look at all the people we know who are in the Genius Society - we find one thing in common. They’re in it to win it for themselves. They don’t help others using the knowledge that they’ve gotten - they use it to pursue shit for themselves. The people of the Genius Society are inherently self-serving. They WIN the idgaf war. Ratio LOSES. Do we see now? 

Ratio’s empathy is the reason why he wasn’t let in. He is too human. Nous is a computer. Herta is detached from people. Ruan Mei is literally looking at life as test subjects. Screwllum is a robot. 

OUR DOCTOR MAN LOST THE IDGAF WAR, BECAUSE HE IS HUMAN AND FEELS FOR OTHERS!!! 

Also, it’s a plausible theory that Nous’s definition of ‘genius’ is different from the human definition of ‘genius’ – it’s a computer, after all. Who knows what’s going on in that code head of its. 

However, we still love you Ratio. Never stop losing the IDGAF war. 

TLDR: Nous is a computer. It is also in it to win it. It is also self serving. It gazes upon the hoes who are here to win it for themselves. Ratio is busy serving the masses and cooking knowledge in his frying pan. To it, there is no logical reason to be doing this. Therefore, no reason to invite this guy to the Genius Society. 

Ratio’s gifted child trauma says otherwise. He wants in. Why wouldn’t he? He’s been working his whole life as a genius. 

Nous is like… nah bro, you care too much. Ratio is like, ‘what the fuck?’ And then the AEON OF KNOWLEDGE GOES FOR THE MILK. 

Okay, now, quick shoutout to Ratio wanting to help others. He is just like me fr. SO BASICALLY, RECAP OF EVERYTHING I JUST SAID:

Ratio LOSES the idgaf war because he cares about other people. Spent his whole life as the golden egg, and then turns to the gods for recognition because of the inherent trauma of being a child genius. He goes, "hey bro, can you confirm that I am in fact a genius?" and Nous goes, "no, you are too busy cheffing for the masses." Ratio goes, "what the fuck?" and then we collectively realize his attitude comes from blocking off his feelings (while failing miserably), being salty about not being recognized, being put on a pedestal for his whole life, and his crippling depression *cough* lack of self worth *cough*. 

Oh, and the "I will never be enough" thought train probably hits him every single day. He is not enough to be recognized by a God. Gods are superior to humans. Maybe nothing has worth after all. Hey, that's Nihility! Hi IX, let's hear what you have to say.

*muffled ix noises*

I see, I see.

The consensus is: HE'S TRAUMATIZED BY EXPECTATIONS! HE WILL PROBABLY SUFFER FROM BURNT OUT GIFTED CHILD IF HE HAS NOT ALREADY!

Okay, now, before I delve into song lyrics (and I KNOW this has been long, just bear with me) I want to talk a little bit (read: a lot) about his relationship with Aventurine. We all know that he cares about Aventurine in his own way. But I want to pull in another idea that I didn’t cover before: 

Ratio’s fucking emotional constipation. 

Basically, the reason why he has trouble connecting with others is because he was most likely alienated by others as a symptom of being called a genius and being put on a pedestal. This makes him seem unapproachable to his peers, most likely, and therefore, as a result, doesn’t know how to properly connect with others. This just makes his way of presenting affection and care to others even more challenging – because he just doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy and clear way. Academic trauma causing emotional problems, because he’s probably a little bit out of touch with his own. Processing? No! Research. Also, this is very important for understanding Ratio’s character in my opinion, because he’s just a little guy who doesn’t know how to articulate. Maybe he’s got a touch of the ‘tism. Tism mutuals, do we agree or disagree? 

However, in comes Aventurine. Love Aventurine, but they are both emotionally constipated. Aventurine displays his affection in ways that Ratio probably only catches after re-analyzing their time together about five times. He’s also a very closed off individual – but Ratio knows this. A cute thing is that Ratio is patient where he needs to be, even if he’s generally a pretty hot-headed guy, and I’m like… bro… that letter… “I wish you the best of luck”... I will wait for you…. GAY ASS MAN…

Sorry the Aventio demons took over. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that they both have nonverbal communication with one another that they clearly decipher and Ratio obviously cares for him (he came back and almost jeopardized the plan just for the sake of his ‘coworker’... okay gayboy…) and they just have such a neat little dynamic… Aventurine lets Dr. Ratio do his thing… understands his emotional alienation to a degree…. they’re so neat….

Okay, Aventurine segment over. NOW, FINALLY, WE CAN GET TO THE SONG LYRICS!!! YAY!!!! We all cheered!!!

We are going to be here for two more amber eras, because I realized I actually want to analyze every single lyric from both of these songs. Brace yourself for like, 2k more words. Help. 

I think it’s only proper that we start off with ‘Oh No!’ the song that has haunted me since my childhood.

“Don’t do love, don’t do friends

I’m only after success

Don’t need a relationship

I’ll never soften my grip”

Remember when I mentioned that alienation was a big part of Ratio lore? Yeah, that manifests itself in this. When you spend your entire life chasing after knowledge and being held to that standard of untouchable genius, it makes sense that you couldn’t connect with others and that you turn your gaze only to success. Therefore, relationships that are interpersonal lose meaning for a bit – you’re just looking for answers and ways to help them, not connect with them. Also, this is what he wants to do – so he’s never going to pass down an opportunity to better himself or to help someone else. 

“Don’t want cash, don’t want card

Want it fast, want it hard 

Don’t need money, don’t need fame

I just want to make a change

I just wanna change, I just wanna change” 

This is directly alluding to his reasonings for distributing knowledge across the cosmos. Was he based on this song? Maybe he was. He’s not looking for money or fame, his ultimate goal is actually pretty selfless – to bring knowledge and give people the tools they need to think for themselves. He just wants to make a change – he just wants people to be able to have access to knowledge and help cure ‘stupidity’. He wants to do it as quickly as possible, always reaching for lofty goals that might seem impossible, but he will make them possible. 

“I know exactly what I want and who I want to be

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine

I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy

Oh! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no, oh!” 

Ratio knows his goal. He knows what he’s working towards. I do believe that he understands why he is the way that he is – he has a degree in Psychology, after all. He knows how he’s been hurt but at the same time, the trauma brain probably doesn’t want to recognize it and he hasn’t stepped into healing yet. He knows what he went through impacted him, but he’s too busy helping others to help himself. He’s becoming what he wants to be, and yet he’s not, all at the same time – which causes the idea of “oh no!” as a kind of cry for help, almost. He’s too proud to ask for it himself, of course, so he’ll fall alone until someone manages to catch him and give him the strength to continue holding on. Aventurine is that. 

“One track mind, one track heart

If I fail, I’ll fall apart

Maybe it is all a test

‘Cause I feel like I’m the worst

So I always act like I’m the best” 

Now, these are the exact lyrics that made me associate this song with Ratio in the first place. He’s got a singular goal that he will do nothing to stop at getting, that he goes so far to get to. However, as I mentioned earlier, failure is not an option for those who were deemed gifted or genius. You are perfect, so therefore you must live up to everyone’s every expectation and surpass them, too, in order to keep your perception of yourself intact. Ratio does not hold himself in high regard, but acts arrogant in order to hold himself together and not fall to the self-deprecating thoughts, even if they fall through the cracks. It gets tiring to hold yourself together like that for a long time, you know? 

“I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die

I’m gonna live, I’m gonna fly

I’m gonna fail, I’m gonna die” 

Remember how I was talking about contradictory mindsets and how they can coexist. This is them. The feeling of crippling self-hatred and lack of self esteem versus the idea that you can do it, you can make a difference – you were born a genius, this is what you’re going to do. This is the knowledge that you are a genius vs the lack of self-esteem that Ratio has. “Mediocre” vs “genius” mindset, eh? 

All the other lyrics in this song are repetitions of what I’ve analyzed before, so let’s move onto “Are you Satisfied?” 

To be honest, there are only a few lines in this song that allow me to connect it to Ratio, so therefore, I will only be analyzing them. However, if you think that other lyrics can connect to him, I’d be interested in knowing how. 

“What you’re gonna be 

It’s not my problem if you don’t see what I see

And I do not give a damn if you don’t believe

My problem, it’s my problem that I never am happy

It’s my problem, it’s my problem on how fast I will succeed”

Pretending to not care about how the world sees you is so fucking real. Sometimes, you really don’t give a shit, and sometimes it’s all you can think about. Ratio… doesn’t seem like he’s the happiest person. He works himself hard and he’s always chasing after a goal that must be exhausting. He’s always doing his best, and I think even with his empathy, it’s easy to start not giving a shit after trying for so long and so hard. Accepting help is one of the hardest things that anybody can do, especially with how much pride he has. His personal problems are his personal problems and he can deal with them on his own. 

“High achiever, don’t you see? 

Baby, nothing comes for free

They say I’m a control freak

Driven by a greed to succeed

Nobody can stop me” 

Nothing comes for free. A lot of the things Ratio has achieved is due to his own intelligence, yes, but also because of a shit ton of hard work. His goal is literally to cure the universe of ‘stupidity’ – and that’s a pretty large fucking goal. He is a high achiever who likes to know the details of every situation when he can in order to try and make things better, and he is driven by a greed to succeed. Why wouldn’t he be? Success is important, and success means helping more people. He isn’t going to allow himself to be stopped by anybody – not even anybody from the Genius society. 

Okay, and we have finally reached the end of my analysis! This caps at around 4k words, so if you stuck around for this long, thank you so much. I would love to hear any of your comments, and I hope you laughed a little bit. Thank you again! This means so much to me that you read. <3

jason todd as an ex is... insufferable. not to you, no, even seperated he dare not pose as a nuisance.

for whatever reason the break up happened, and as much as he blamed it on you when you left, stood his ground and watched you go, he always blamed himself. but of course, he couldn't gather that courage to speak, to beg you to come back— to make things alright.

because it hurt to see you not look at him with stars in your eyes when you crack a joke. it hurts not to be the reason you laugh or smile or feel giddy with love. it fucking hurts to see someone else giving you their jacket— someone else holding you.

as much as he claimed to have been moved on, scoffing "it didn't matter to him". it did matter to him, it mattered to him so much he lingered.

he lingered at a distance when you were out with someone else, oh he was just making sure you were fine, he's just being a good human— a good vigilante making sure the people are alright. he lingered even when you were fast asleep, peering into your bedroom through the window from the terrace of the opposite buiding. or if you were a vigilante too, he lingered in the sidelines of a mission you clearly had under control.

he lingered like the ghost of your past, like the shadows— like he's a part of you.

he smiled unknowingly when you laughed, looked your way when he passed a witty comment to see if you laughed like you usually did, if you didn't, it would wilt his sad little heart. everyone noticed the onslaught of jokes and sarcastic comments when you were present, side eyeing him. at first everyone was simply amused, they teased him endlessly— but then when days turned to months, and months turned to a year, the amusement morphed into pity. pity because it killed them to see such obvious yearning, so much so that it gave them a damn migraine.

but jason thought he could take it, he could still get over you. getting over isn't that hard, he's done it before. its just taking a little more time with you.

he thought he was content by just watching you live, the ache was lessened by your smile.

oh but he's a selfish bastard. fuck the noble act.

his brow twitched and a vein popped on his forehead when he watched another person look at you the way he did, hold your hands for way too long— that vein almost burst when he tucked back a lock of your hair.

and suddenly his mind is clear, clearer than it ever had been. what use is this pride, this useless ego, if he doesn't have you in his life? what use are these arms if not to hold you? what use are his eyes if not to adore you? what use is this stupid heart of his if not to belong to you?

he couldn't take it anymore.

so you should have expected it to be honest, when you entered your lonely apartment only to be scared out of your wits at the sight of your ex lounging on the couch with his legs spread and head cocked to a side, staring at you menacingly.

"enjoyed your little date, sweetheart?"

you should have expected it when he cornered you, taunting that sorry excuse of a man— and your lack of taste.

"that desperate to forget me, hm?"

you should have expected the surge of butterflies wrecking chaos in you, heat searing your body. so you retaliate, your words even more sharp and cutting. you shoved him back, digging your boundaries against him, shielding yourself.

and its like the poor man lost all his sass and wits in a second, he sputtered, at a loss for words. scared, scared that he's messing up again.

he mumbled a quiet, defeated "sorry." and you thought he'd leave. so you did not expect his lips on yours the next second. each kiss, each touch were accompanied with an apology. he worshipped and repented at the same time.

so you really should have expected to see him in your bed next morning, body tangled with yours, sleeping so deeply as if he hadn't in a long time.

you sighed before a triumphant smile came on your lips as you kissed his forehead, proud that your little plan worked.

you had expected it all.

NOTE: i had wanted to write pure angst but my need for a happy ending prevailed unfortunately

Reverse trope prompt: too many beds

tf 141 x reader

SFW - no warnings except for profanity

Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams

Please like, tag, reblog to show the list creator some love if you use the prompts.

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

It felt weird lying in your own bed again.

After spending months holed up in safe houses, huddled together in the field to keep warm or crammed together during transport, you'd become accustomed to having at least one of your team with you while you slept.

You huff, roll over and will yourself to go to sleep. Minutes creep by. Sleep still eludes you.

Maybe it's the quiet that's getting to you, or the absence of their warmth. Or it could be that you miss that sense of security, having a solid, living body lying next to you. Whatever it is, your brain refuses to shut off without it.

You hate to admit it, but you can't get to sleep without the guys.

Crazy as it seems, you miss Gaz burying his cold nose in the nape of your neck, listening to him make those funny little nuck-nuck noises in his sleep.

You miss Ghost's twitching, and how he holds on tight to your hand after he's had one of his nightmares. He won't let go, either, not even after he falls back to sleep.

You miss the way Price sprawls out. At least one of his heavy limbs will end up flung over you at some point, the weight solid and reassuring. You might even miss his snoring, at least until you can't stand it anymore and have to poke him in the ribs to get him to turn over. He always flops back over within minutes and starts snoring again.

Hell, you even miss Soap's sweaty koala bear hugs and sleep talking in Gaelic. The man literally never shuts his bloody gob, not even while sleeping. As annoying as it is, it's also kind of endearing.

Frustrated, you give up and throw back the covers, getting out of your bunk. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you quietly slip out into the hall and head for the rec room. Maybe a warm cuppa of Ghost's earl grey that he keeps stashed in the back of the cupboard will help.

You come up short as soon as you step through the door. Ghost is sitting alone on the sectional sofa, leaned back in the corner watching sports highlights on the telly.

"What're ya doin' up?" he grumbles.

"Can't sleep."

He grunts then motions for you to join him. You slump down next to him and lean into his side, tucking your legs beside you. After a few minutes of soaking in his warmth, you feel your eyes start to droop. It must be having a similar effect on him, because you feel his body go slack, then a minute later, he twitches. You glance up to see that his head's fallen back against the cushions, eyes closed.

You're almost asleep when Gaz wanders into the room. He smirks as he climbs over the back of the couch, wedging himself in behind you. "'M cold," he complains, snuggling in. "Place is like a bloody freezer." He burrows under the blanket with you and buries his cold nose in the back of your hair. "Smell better since ya showered," he teases, making you both snicker.

"Oi," Ghost rumbles out, not bothering to open his eyes. " You two, shuddup."

Gaz breathes out a laugh then goes quiet.

The captain comes ambling into the room on sock feet, wearing a ratty looking robe. He sniffs in amusement at the three of you piled up together. "Well, don't you lot look cozy," he quips, sprawling out in the opposite corner. He throws his legs up beside Gaz. "Make room, Sergeant."

Gaz shuffles around then cuddles back under the blanket. Price crosses his arms over his chest and turns his attention to the telly. His first snore rolls out five minutes later.

"Fuckin' hell," Ghost groans.

Finally, Soap comes shuffling through the door, bleary-eyed, his mohawk sticking out every which way. He jams his fists on his hips, a peevish look on his face. "Ye hens havin' a slumber party an' dinnae invite me?"

Ghost huffs, irritated, and lifts his head to glare at him. The captain snorts, smacks his lips, then picks up snoring where he left off. Gaz pokes his head up to hiss a "Shh!" at Soap.

"Jaysus, sorry. Dinnae mean t'disturb yer beauty sleep, m'laird."

"You're disturbed, ya wanker," Gaz mumbles before nuzzling back into your hair.

"Christ, jus' shuddup an' siddown, Johnny," Ghost growls lowly.

Soap rounds the end of the sectional and plops down next to Ghost, grinning. "Fancy a snuggle, LT?"

"No."

Soap sniffs, pouting until Ghost sighs and jerks his head in a quick nod. "C'mon, then."

Scooting closer, Soap rests his cheek on Ghost's shoulder. "Yer comfy, LT. I could get used t'this."

Ghost rolls his eyes. "Shut yer gob an' go t'sleep, Sergeant."

"Aye, sir," Soap murmurs and settles in.

Price grunts, scratches at his beard, then turns on his side. The snoring stops. Ghost hums and sinks deeper into the cushions. You can hear Gaz now making soft little nuck-nuck sounds behind you. The sound lulls you to sleep.

Some time later, you feel Ghost jerk awake. His hand fumbles under the blanket until he finds yours. You squeeze his fingers, Soap on his other side, murmuring something softly in Gaelic. Ghost eases back into the cushions, his tense body relaxing.

You breathe out a sigh, let your eyes drift shut and immediately fall back to sleep.

Fic recs - oneshots

So I wanted to post some fic links since I got a very long list. Some of them are very well known but many deserve more attention. And I see people asking for recs in the tags all the time so I figured a few will like them.

[also I always like this kind of posts lol]

Like I said I have way too many links (last time I counted it was 200 but that was months ago...) so I'll make a couple of posts if anyone is interested.

also this is almost exclusively ghostsoap since those are the kind of oneshots I read, apparently.

Starting off with (some of the) sfw oneshots:

Peace by Metrokid - Ghost dies and has a chat with death (it ends up well dw!)

Pencil Scratches and Ink by Fluffykitty9000 - Ghost thinks Soap loves someone else and shuts him out; Soap thinks the worst.

A Lesson in Trust by mothbeast - Ghost never revealed his face to Soap and Soap feels hurt by it.

He has to Break by GalacticKraken - Ghost has to torture Soap in a mock interrogation, but he refuses to break.

(Don't) Need You to Protect Me by FreeToWriteForMe - Ghost is down, and Soap risks his life to save him. Ghost is pissed.

Beautiful Boy (To my eyes only) by Whyhellotherefriend - Ghost knew he was beyond the ability to be loved. When he starts pulling away, Soap has to do something.

You shine like the moon and the stars in the sky by C0nfused_cactus99 - Soap hasn't been sleeping much and after a mission gone wrong Ghost finds out why.

A Quiet Kind of Caring by bailish - Soap finds Ghost taken down with the flu, and feels the need to take care of him.

Broken Habits by bailish - Ghost finds Soap struggling with his greasepaint on his way to a mission, and decides to help.

Shadow of Him by goth_iterations - Ghost finds Soap's journal, and is pleasantly surprised at what he finds.

Grab On To Me by peachytea - 5 times Ghost grabbed Soap by his tac vest and 1 time Soap grabbed Ghost.

"Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls" by SonTi - Ghost stumbles upon Soap drawing. The memory haunts him and he's intent to get to see it at least one more time (this isn't nsfw despite the title lol)

How dare you love me (like you've never known fear) by itwillcomeback (MandoKain) - 5 times Soap sang for others, and 1 time someone sang his own song back to him.

the broken dam & the starving hearts by iiruwu - Ghost has a bad habit of getting drunk and calling for Soap to take him home (this one is hurt no comfort btw)

Burn Bright by orphan_account - Ghost gets triggered in the shower after a mission, thankfully someone can always pull him out.

Place To Rest My Head by Louffox - Soap disappeared after an exhausting mission and Ghost went looking for him.

Slipping Up by ElizaStyx, starryathame - Soap gets drunk after a harrowing mission and accidentally confesses a bit too much to Ghost.

Warm Me to My Core by EmpressCirque - Soap and Ghost have to share body heat. Simon realizes he might love Johnny.

To be a Fire by Hallow_fiend - Soap and Ghost get sent into the heart of Siberia and have to face an enemy they can't fight alone.

Heatstroke Heartbreaks by Cutleryy - Soap gets attacked by dogs and Ghost and him have to face a sandstorm (this is technically one chapter but it's 20k words. Extremely good though)

Alright that's enough for one post, this is about half of them. If any of the links don't work or if anyone is interested in more, don't be afraid to say so!

MASTERLIST

Welcome to the chaos corner of my brain. Here's where you'll find all my writing, from filthy one-shots to soft moments (and everything in between). I mostly write for:

Jason Todd (my emotional support menace)

Dick Grayson (the human embodiment of sunshine and sin)

Jujutsu Kaisen (because they're hot af)

Jason Todd Fics

Shameless

Wrecked

Frenzy

Glass

Devotion

Haze

Crave

Dick Grayson fics

Anniversary

Night Ride

Fractured

Dinner

Heatwave

Starved

Snack Heist

Devour

Late

Jujutsu Kaisen fics

Birthday Gift

After Hours

Rough Day

Tailored

Some of my longer fics live over on AO3, so if you're in the mood for more, you can find them below:

Jujutsu Kaisen fics

Legal Affairs (ongoing)

His Possession (ongoing)

Ecstasy (ongoing)

Tied (finished)

Barely dressed, fully stressed (finished)

Lost and Found (finished)

Skybound (finished)

Halloween Hotties: Ghostface Edition (finished)

Birthday Bash (finished)

Burning Desires (finished)

Psycho-pass fic

Crossing Lines (finished)

Chainsaw Man fic

Lunch Break (finished)

Dick Grayson fic

Fluff and Feels (ongoing)

Requests: My ask box is always open if you wanna drop a request or an idea! Just know I can't promise I'll always get to them, but I appreciate every single one. Also, I don't write anything extreme, non-con, underage, or anything that makes me uncomfy. Just good old-fashioned horniness with a sprinkle of feelings 💚

a lil birthday present for @sunlitlemonade :’) <333

based on this fic,, pls go read all of them actually!!!!!!!

I'M WORKING LATE !

jason's too stressed, and too exhausted. luckily, you have a few ways of getting him to relax. rated 18+, mdni contains: jason todd x reader; grinding, handjob, blowjob, reader's hair is long enough 4 a ponytail

He hasn't looked up from his file in two hours.

Jason did this sometimes, got so engrossed in a case that everyone and everything else took a backseat. You learned early on that he doesn't like to be bothered when he gets in this headspace, getting used to tuning him out and going about your own tasks (aside from the occasional kiss atop his head or brush of your palm across his back, something he could never complain about), but you think if he stares at his papers any harder, he'll go cross-eyed.

He sat down to work two hours ago, around the same time you started making dinner. Not wanting to disturb him, the two of you worked around each other in a comfortable silence, him typing away at his laptop while sifting through papers, and you cutting vegetables and boiling noodles. In the one hour it took to prepare the meal and bring two steaming bowls of pasta to the table, he hadn't looked up once. You set his bowl in front of him, but you're not sure he even noticed.

In the hour following, you finished your meal, cleaned up the kitchen, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and packed up his untouched bowl of pasta for later, all before settling in on the couch to put on headphones and queue up your show on your computer.

Now, you watch him from your spot on the couch as he sits at the dining table, body tense and still as a statue, save for the occasional flick through the pages of his file, or a scribble of notes on his notepad. Seeing him ultra-focused was nothing new, but there's something about this night that has you concerned. The bags under his eyes are heavier than usual, his lips are chapped and raw from being chewed on, his reading glasses are askew on his face, and his hair is messy, odd ends sticking out from how often he drags his hand through it.

It's when his neck turns slightly to look at the notepad at his side and you hear the minute clicking noise followed by a quiet wince that you know you have to intervene.

From experience, you know this is something you have to go about subtly. At your harping, he's been getting better about prioritizing himself and his wellbeing over work, but he still shows some defensiveness when someone suggests he take a break. He won't admit it, but you know he feels guilty about taking time to relax when there are people who need his help.

You approach him slowly from behind, dragging your feet on the hardwood floor, a gentle alert to your nearing. Your fingers softly brush over his back, sliding up across his shoulder blades until your hands rest on his shoulders. He doesn't react.

You squeeze your hands lightly, feeling the tight knots in his muscles, and his shoulders relax a few centimeters. You repeat this motion, slowly massaging from his shoulders to his neck. He releases a heavy exhale when your thumbs press against the sides of his neck, making circular motions to ease the tension. You lean lower to brush light kisses over the spots you press into, and finally, his head lifts. He leans back, head falling over the neck of his chair to look up at you as his hands reach back to rest over your forearms. He wears a tired smile, and you drop your head to close the remaining space between you, brushing your lips over his. They feel rough from the consistent dragging against his teeth while he was deep in concentration, but nonetheless remain warm and inviting for you to press kisses to.

"Hi," Jason whispers against your lips, his voice scratchy from its hours unused.

"Hey," you breathe. Your lips travel up his face, kissing up his nose and to his forehead, each spot relaxing a little more as you kiss it.

Your fingers continue their pressure around his neck and he groans softly when you press into that perfect spot, finding the largest knot. You want to bottle the sound, save it to listen to on a loop for hours.

"Can you finish up for the night?" You whisper the words behind his ear, following up with another kiss brushed across the skin.

"I'm so close to the end, baby," he speaks softly, his breath warm on the side of your face. "I can feel it. I just need a little more time."

Your hands trail back down to his shoulders, pressing harder. "You've been stuck for forever. You need a break."

"Baby..." He sighs when your kisses move down his neck.

"Please?"

He leans forward, pushing away from your touch to look back at the work in front of him, but you persist, moving around to climb in his lap. Your legs straddle over his hips, arms circling around his neck. On instinct, his hands settle on your thighs, and squeeze.

"Please, Jay?" You whine, prodding your nose against his. "You're working so hard, honey." You drag your lips underneath his jaw. "You're so tense. Let me help you relax."

He sighs again, his hands sliding up to grip your waist, hips shifting forward to nudge against yours, and you know you've got him.

"I can't say no to you, can I?" Jason concedes, and you grin.

"No, you can't."

You kiss him eagerly, humming against his lips when he reciprocates. It starts off innocent, as slow and sweet kisses, before quickly devolving into something more harried, your heated breaths mingling through exchanged keens and moans. When Jason pulls back to remove his glasses and toss them on the table behind you, you mouth along his neck, sucking and biting and licking at the skin. At the same time, your hips rock against his, and his hold on your waist tightens. You muffle his moan when your mouth finds his again, hands sliding into his ruffled hair to grab ahold of the strands and pull. His mouth falls open slightly, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue past his lips.

He's so lost in the feeling of your movement against him and your hands in his hair, Jason doesn't register the hand that slides down to his belt buckle until his jeans are unzipped and your hand has slipped inside to grip his half-hard cock through his boxers.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling back as you palm him. With his throat on display, you latch onto the spot just below his Adam's apple. After a few moments, he pulls himself together enough to say, "Was this your plan?" He pushes his hips out to grind against your hand, his erection growing harder. "Seduce me into taking a break?"

Satisfied with the mark you've left on the column of his throat, you pull back to look at him. You tug at the band of his boxers, pulling them down marginally to slip your hand inside and pull his dick out. Your knuckles brush against his balls and his hips jump, releasing a small gasp from him. You tease him with slow, light strokes up and down his length. Your thumb brushes over the beads of precum on his tip, and a high-pitched moan falls from his open mouth. His gaze on you is something out of a renaissance painting, all rosy cheeks and devoted eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," you say, though the tail-end of your statement is cut off by Jason taking your face in his hand and bringing your lips back to his.

His other hand tries to creep under the waistband of your sleep shorts, but you stop him with a grab on his wrist. It elicits a needy whine from the back of his throat, both at your depriving him of touching you, and the loss of your touch on him.

"Sorry, baby." You push yourself off him, your heart skipping a beat at the broken noises he makes in protest. "But I said I'd help you relax."

You can see the change in his eyes when you drop to your knees in front of him, his enlarged pupils encroaching further on the teal of his irises until they're just thin rings of blue and green around black.

"Can I?" Your voice is hushed and timid, almost self-conscious at the submission you're offering.

He whispers your name, quiet and hungry as he looks down on you. You run your hands over his thighs and he moves to sit on the edge of his seat, spreading his legs further apart so you can fit comfortably between them. His hands, which grip the sides of his chair, are taken in yours and guided to your hair. One holds your hair back, and the other cups your jaw, his thumb brushing soothing strokes on your cheek as you take his cock in your hand once more. You stroke at the base while dipping your head down to wrap your mouth around his tip.

Jason is big, and no matter how many times you take him, there's always a moment needed to adjust. Slowly, your mouth works past the tip, each bob of your head taking a little more of him while your hand jerks him off where your mouth can't reach. His breathing grows heavier the deeper you take him, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and contracting with the effort it takes to not immediately cum at the sight of you sucking him off.

"Fuck, that's— baby, oh my— fuck!" His low, baritone moaning mixes with the sloppy sounds your mouth makes. His whole body squirms as he fights the urge to just stand up and roughly fuck your throat until he comes. "You're so fucking good to me," he groans.

The hand on your jaw brushes away the tears that form as you gag from taking him as deep as you can. The hand holding your hair tightens its grip, softly yanking the strands and you moan; Jason feels the vibration in his cock and whimpers, his own tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"Baby, I'm so—" He cuts himself off with a loud, animalistic moan when you swirl your tongue around the head of his dick, followed by a flick of your tongue against the tip before taking him in deep once again. Your tongue drags against the vein under his head and he comes in your mouth, the hot spurts gushing onto your tongue as he shallowly thrusts himself through his orgasm.

When he's done, hands fallen to his sides, slumped back in his seat and panting heavily, you slide your mouth off him and hold it open for him to see what he left.

"Swallow it." His voice is low and gravelly.

You listen.

"That's my girl," he breathes.

He helps you to your feet and wipes your wet cheeks with the back of his hand before pulling you in for a kiss.

"My girl," he whispers again. His eyes sweep over you with reverence, and it's your turn to cradle his cheeks in your palms and brush away the hints of moisture.

"Are you done working?" You ask quietly. Hopefully.

He leans his forehead against yours. "I still have to—"

You give him a long sigh, to which he playfully rolls his eyes.

"I guess I'll just go to bed! All alone!" You exclaim dramatically, stalking away from him with exaggerated steps.

"I'll be there in a minute," Jason laughs, calling after you.

"You better," you tease. When you know he's looking, you lift the hem of your shirt and pull it off, throwing it aside and turning away. It has barely left your hand when you hear his chair scraping against the floor and you break into a run towards your bedroom.

You don't get very far, however, before he catches you. You squeal when he grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder, both of you full of giggles as he carries you to your room.

cause i'm a singer....

so this is my first time writing smut why am i highkey nervous abt it this was supposed to be under a thousand words but girl....i'm still classifying it a mini fic tho not a regular fic bc i FEEL LIKE IT & let it be known i am a jason crying during sex TRUTHER

and um why was i fighting for my life trying to describe their positions in the beginning when he was sitting in the chair and reader was standing behind him. i still fear it's not clear so i drew it. hope this helps

Mini Comic-cover snippet for @prlssprfctn story