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practicalgauntlet · 2 days ago

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~You're still my person. Even if I'm not yours.~

Part two

"We kept crossing paths, near misses and almosts, when all I ever wanted was for us to collide." -Jessica Katoff

Synopsis - Some time has passed, and you think you've healed. But when you're shot by an unsub, old wounds are ripped open for all to see.

Category- Angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending.

Notes - Hurt/comfort, you get shot, Canon typical violence, blood and gore, angst, self-loathing, self-blaming, a year has passed between this and part one, gender-neutral reader (I only use They/Them pronouns because I know everyone likes Spencer not just the girlies), I'm so sorry this is so long, you're a trooper if you get through all of this. The fic started writing itself :/

A/N- this is for @bloodredrubyrose and everyone else who wanted the happy ending. I hope this is okay.

WARNING- This one-shot has violence similar to the cases in the show, but I wanted to bring attention to what transpires and is mentioned in this fic. The case revolves around murdered pregnant women and their fetuses. If the topic is too sensitive for you or can trigger anything, I suggest not reading this.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

A year has passed since J.J.'s wedding.

You still find yourself hurting, lying awake at night thinking of the possibility of "What if?". You still have to shake away the thoughts of inadequacy, of not good enough.

Sometimes, when you're particularly tired or inebriated, you find yourself still unable to look away from him.

It was three weeks and two days after the wedding when Spencer invited you to hang out with him again. It was a month, two weeks, and eleven hours when he greeted you with a genuine smile again.

It was eight months, three weeks, six days, and two hours when you felt like you could breathe again.

Everything was back to normal. It wasn't bright, shiny rainbows and glittery kittens like Penelope said it would be once you healed. But it was normal.

It was easier to ignore the festering pit in your stomach during the day, easier to look your team in the eye, say, "I'm okay." and mean it. It was easier to watch Spencer heal the same way you were.

You were so proud of him. It felt like your Spencer was back. His long-winded speeches about something that didn't seem relevant but ended up helping the case drastically, his magic tricks in the bullpen when Hotch was in his office, and his goofy authenticity. All of it was back, at least partially.

He still got quiet when J.J. was around and closed in on himself. But compared to those days after the wedding, he was making immense progress. You just wished he let you in so you could help.

"I don't think they're listening."

You barely hear Morgan's voice over the bubbling thoughts that threatened to take control and invade your mind.

"Oh, sugar they're definitely not listening."

Penelope's hand was slamming down on your desk, startling you out of your reverie.

"What's on your mind, honey pot?"

She asks, propping herself up on the table. With her quirked eyebrow and intense look in her eye, you knew what she was asking.

"Are you still hurting?"

She was right to be worried, right to involve herself in case you got worse again. But instead of thinking about Spencer and how you'll never be on the receiving end of his affectionate gaze, you were actually thinking about the case.

There was a lull in leads, the ones you had only took the team to a dead end. Dead body after dead body and still nothing.

"I'm fine, Pen. This case is just taking a lot out of me."

And it was true. The BAU had been called in because a dead body had been unearthed by a gardener somewhere East. A heavily pregnant woman had been murdered, her unborn child ripped from her body and buried with her.

It was horrifying, to say the least, the brutality of the unsub turning your breakfast sour. But it had been seven hours since the team landed in the small town, and you were still no closer to finding the culprit.

"Why don't we get something to eat, hmm?"

Penelope suggested, hopping off the table and holding out her hand for you.

"If you're getting food, get me a little somethin'. I'm in the mood for Chinese!"

Morgan yelled from across the room, his hip propped against the clear board Spencer was mumbling at.

"I guess we're getting Chinese."

You chuckle, standing up and following Penelope out of the makeshift conference room the local police allowed you to use. As you were passing Spencer, you turned to him and called his name.

"Do you want anything specific?"

He looks to you, eyes reluctantly leaving his equations as he's pulled from his thoughts.

"What?"

There was a surge of affection at the sight of his pursed lips and furrowed brows. The way his hands fiddled with the marker, clicking the lid on and off the end.

"We're getting the team Chinese takeout. Do you want anything?"

"Just a fork."

You nod your head, peeling yourself away from his attentive gaze. When you and Penelope get in the car, she places a hand on yours. You didn't take your eyes off the road, but you could tell that she was looking at you with that look again.

"How have you been, sugar?

It felt good to have someone watching over you, someone in your corner, to ask if you were okay even after time had passed and you were healed.

"I've been doing good."

She was the only one to know of your breakdown on Rossi's front porch. She was the only one you allowed to see what it did to you those weeks afterward. How depressed you were, how hopeless. Penelope Garcia was your best friend, and she was the only one to know you were still unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Spencer Reid.

"Are you sure about that? I know this case is a doozy but I know that look in your eye."

You briefly take your eyes off the road once you reach a red light, patting the hand that now rested comfortingly on your thigh.

"Yes, I'm fine. It doesn't feel like the world is ending anymore. Plus, life is unfair sometimes. I just need to roll with the punches."

She looked at you, her knowing eyes always privy to the storm that rolled beneath your skin. In one final attempt to comfort her worry, you flash her your most believable smile.

Penelope quirked an eyebrow and looked away, not at all convinced but persuaded to leave it be for the time being.

The trip for food was brief. You got various dishes in case the team was in the mood for a certain thing. You were back at the station within twenty minutes, walking into the conference room to something you never wanted to see.

Your team was gathered around the table, faces grim as they spoke towards the phone sitting in the middle.

"Another body..."

Penelope whispers, catching the eyes of Morgan as he shakes his head solemnly. Hotch was already giving the team their orders.

Morgan and Emily were dispatched to question the family as the local police had already ID'd the girl. She was a well-known and loved woman; she was a part of the PTA, led the neighborhood watch, and hosted bake sales for all parts of the community.

J.J. was asked to stay behind and deal with the journalists and news anchors that suddenly surrounded the station.

That left you and Spencer to follow up with the police at the scene of the crime. Spencer drove the two of you there, your knee bouncing in the passenger seat as you watched the scenery pass by.

"I don't get it..."

Spencer mumbles. When you look to him for an explanation he was already glancing at you.

"Why pregnant women? Why take the baby out and bury it with the mother? It makes no sense."

You flip down the visor, both because you need to get the sun out of your eyes and to do something with your hands.

"Maybe they're surrogates for his real target? A mother? Maybe he's upset at his mom and taking the baby is a way to give mercy to his inner child."

"Or maybe," Spencer counters, long fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he pulls into the crime scene. "They're surrogates for a wife."

The scene before you was gnarly. And unfortunately, the unsub had changed M.O.

The woman was buried in a shallow grave like the others, dressed in a thin white gown, poised perfectly like Snow White with her child tightly swaddled in a towel and tucked safely in her arms. The only difference was the lack of blood, the lack of brutality. That, and she had blonde hair whereas the other victims were brunettes.

"He's devolving."

You mutter, feeling sick at the sight of her.

"Or he's getting close to what he's wanting to do."

You look up at him from your squatted position, taking in Spencer in all his glory. He looked so good in his FBI vest, with his sweater and tie peeking out from the collar.

You shouldn't be thinking of him like that. Not when a woman and her child had lost their life and they lay decaying in front of you. Not when you should already be over him.

"What do you mean?"

"She looks perfectly preserved. Sure, she's laid out in the same outfit and the same position. The color and the way she's laid are meant to symbolize purity. So we know he isn't murdering for hatred. He feels sympathy for these women. But look at this,"

He crouches next to you, the movement sending your heart into overdrive. His sleeves were rolled up as he shoved his hands into some blue surgical gloves. You could even smell his cologne.

"Her hair," He picks up a strand. "Her hair had been styled. There's a texture to it that means he used hairspray. And while the others' hair was wild and unkempt, most likely because he kept them for some time or they fought back, her's is washed and curled."

"So we know this woman is a surrogate, but he's not acting on any sexual or vengeful impulse?"

Spencer turned to you, looking at you from above his sunglasses.

"I think we're ready to give the profile."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

"We are looking for a white male in his mid to late thirties."

Morgan starts as he leans against one of the desks, his arms folded against his chest. Emily stepped up, continuing on as she stared each and every officer down to make sure they were taking this as seriously as it was.

"Look for someone who had recently lost a wife and child during the birth, someone who is most likely blue collar. He would have been a normal man up until his loss. Now, he would be agitated and easily riled up. Getting into fights or arguments when he normally wouldn't. "

You step in, delivering the line you rehearsed in your head over and over on the ride back to the station.

"He's kidnapping pregnant women so he could relive the birth. So he could hold his child and kiss his wife. But he's desperate, so he is taking the babies out prematurely and amateurly that neither victim survives. He would need a space to do all of this, a garage, a second home, or a place of work. Somewhere concealed enough to not draw attention but spacious enough to perform the c-section."

It was now Hotch's turn to deliver the final line of the profile.

"He will continue to take women until he gets what he wants. We need to make sure Kate Smith is his last victim."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You found him. Carl McGregor, a welder for a construction company. His wife of six years died giving birth to his child, and he went off the rails.

You sympathized with him, knowing that he was in so much pain. But that didn't excuse what he did to those poor women and the families they were a part of.

Carl was hiding out in his garage, a woman in the last week of her second trimester strapped to the table; screaming for help.

You were the first on the scene, your legs carrying you just a bit faster than the others. When you opened the garage door, you had to put every ounce of will not to tackle the guy to the ground.

"FBI! Put the scalpel down Carl!"

Carl was hovering over Debbie Park, a young mother of three and a half. He had her strapped to a makeshift stretcher and her terrified screams broke your heart.

"No!" Carl said with a crazed look in his eyes. "My wife is about to give birth, give her space!"

You lower your gun so the barrel isn't aimed straight at his skull but keep it raised just in case. When you spoke, you made sure you sounded as calm and understanding as possible.

"Carl, your wife died three weeks ago giving birth to your son. Let Debbie go so her husband doesn't experience the loss you did.

You don't know how or when Spencer made it into the garage but he suddenly appeared in the shadows, his gun aimed at Carl.

"No, please!" Carl was focused on you, his shaking hands still holding Debbie down. "This is my wife! Why are trying to take her away?"

You lower your gun entirely, feeling safe with Spencer there to have your back. You approached Carl slowly, keeping your body crouched as if you were approaching a scared and wounded animal. Because that's exactly what he was. A scared and wounded animal.

"Carl?" You put a hand on his shoulder. He winces but doesn't attack. "Debbie has a family, she has three kids and a husband who are worried sick about her. Do you want to put her husband and kids through the same pain you're feeling?"

It all happened so fast. First Carl was lunging at you, a gun you didn't know he had raised before you could pull your own. Debbie's screams mixed with yours as Spencer fired his gun and took Carl down.

There was a sharp sting to your chest, your right shoulder to be exact just under your collarbone. Upon Carl's death, his finger squeezed the trigger and put a bullet three inches from your heart.

Spencer was in front of you before you could collapse, cradling your head to save it from bashing against the concrete ground.

"I need a medic!"

Spencer yelled into his com, his face wild with worry as he pressed his hands into your wound.

It hurt, sending a blazing fire throughout your body. In the back of your mind, you heard yourself scream from the pain, your throat raw and ragged. Your hands uncontrollably gripped Spencer's vest, clutching him closer to you as you tried to breathe around the sharp, boiling pain.

"You're going to be okay, the medic is on his way."

Spencer's voice sounded far away, garbled and hazy like he was underwater. Panic soon tore across your body, thrumming through your veins as you tried to ignore the sticky warmth pooling through your shirt.

"No, no, stay with me. Stay with me please!"

You barely felt Spencer's cold hands patting your cheek. You had to say it now, as you were dying. This was your last chance to tell him how you feel. You already felt yourself slipping away.

"Spence..."

Your mouth felt so dry, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. He was shaking above you, pulling your body into his lap as he rocked you back and forth.

"I'm here, I'm here. I'm not leaving, you'll be okay."

You felt he was saying that more for himself than he was for you.

It was hard to unfurl your fingers from his vest but you did it, lifting your hand to cradle his cheek. It was now or never.

"Before I dye, I need you to know-"

"No!" Spencer seethed. You had never seen him so emotional before, so upset he looked feral. "You are not going to die! Where's my fucking medic?!"

"I need you to know, that I love you."

He smoothed his hands over your face, brushing the sweaty strands of hair away from your eyes. "I love you too, you're my best friend."

You let out a breathy, strangled, humourless chuckle. Of course he'd make you spell it out for him.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer..."

Black was edging your vision, your ears ringing as you watched Spencer blink once, twice, before the medic pushed him away.

Faintly you felt your body being moved, that white-hot pain once again rendering you speechless as you finally succumbed to the darkness that was calling to you.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Spencer couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't taste, or hear, or feel. Frantic, animalistic worry overpowered every other emotion. Logic be damned, facts be damned.

"Reid, calm down or you're gonna wear a hole in the floor."

"There is a high chance the bullet nicked a vital vein or artery. It took us fifteen minutes and thirty seconds to get her to the hospital and another six minutes for the doctors to start operating. There is a higher chance that she lost too much blood and will need a transfusion. If she needs a transfusion there is a chance she could have a Febrile non-hemolytic transfusion reaction or a Transfusion-related acute lung injury. There are so many possibilities to think over and every time I think I've found a way to stop them another one pops up. Do not tell me to calm down!"

Morgan backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"My bad, man."

Emily was next to approach him and he had to look away from the worry on her face.

"Only thinking about what could go wrong will only cause you more stress. Maybe you should go home and take a shower."

"Stop telling me what to do."

He didn't recognize his voice, and he knew his friends didn't recognize him. So he backed off, settling himself in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, and put his head in his hands.

Emily was right. Derek was right. But if he thought about anything other than the complications that could take you away from him all he would focus on were the last words you uttered before blacking out.

"I'm in love with you, Spencer."

He didn't know what to do with that information. After J.J. he didn't allow himself to even look a second longer at someone that was out of his league. Which was everyone. Especially you.

You were so kind and gentle with him. You let him go on his rants, asking him to finish what he was saying if the team not so subtly told him to shut up or bluntly interrupted him. You loved his endless facts and knowledge and you told him often.

You were like a beacon of light when you entered the room, his gaze unconsciously looking for you wherever he was. You were his best friend; you knew everything about him and still treated him like a human being. Not some computer, not some freak.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. His hands were shaky and he couldn't keep still to save his life. He had never felt like this before, not when a gun was pointed in his face, not when the bureau was infiltrated. Not even when Emily was in the hospital.

He'd never been this scared shitless before.

And then it hit him.

He was in love with you.

He had been for a while. Maybe after J.J., maybe before. Spencer didn't know when it happened or how deeply it had been buried. All he knew was that it was now so fucking obvious.

It felt so natural. He had always thought you were going to be a permanent fixture in his life. Always thought that you'd be a phone call away when he needed you and he'd be the same. Whenever he thought of something you were always there, in the back of his mind like you belonged there.

He faintly heard a commotion, the sound of chairs scraping against the ground and footsteps running away. He looked up from the floor, his body fuzzy from the realization.

Spencer bolted from his seat the moment he saw the doctor standing in front of his team. He gently shoved aside Morgan and J.J. needing to hear the news as close as possible.

"They're stable and awake. It had just barely missed their heart, but they will heal with no permanent damage."

Spencer could have dropped to his knees with relief, his body sagging and his lungs deflating.

"Can I- we see her?"

"Of course, but we still need to take their vitals frequently. And a room full of people would not be best stress-wise so I suggest one to two people at a time."

Morgan clapped him on the back, a knowing look on his face before shoving him forward.

"We're going to get something to eat. You check on our sunshine."

After all the attitude he threw their way, he was dumbfounded that they would give him such a precious opportunity.

"Thank you,"

"No problem, Pretty Boy."

When Spencer entered your room, it was like he walked into a different reality. You were usually so bright and shining, carving a path of light and kindness wherever you stepped, but now you were lifeless. The tubes and wires hooked up to you made you look so uninhabited; pale, and sickly from the blood loss.

Spencer approached the bed, being careful not to make any noise that would startle you awake. Your eyes were closed and he assumed you were probably in and out of consciousness due to the pain meds they were pumping into you.

He hated seeing you like this.

"Spence?"

He hadn't realized you had awoken, too focused on all the machinery you were hooked up to.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Spencer didn't know what to do with his body so he just stood there, willing his emotions into submission and picking at the skin of his thumbs.

"I feel like I just got hit by a train."

You groan and he is at your side immediately, checking the monitors and making sure your pain meds are working. They were, but he needed to make sure.

"What no fact about processing pain or how it affects the body?"

You were looking up at him now, a pained but genuine smile on your face. In the hour that he worried relentlessly about you, he feared he'd never see that again.

That smile faded into something akin to concern when he didn't respond.

"What's wrong Spence?"

"I thought you were going to die."

He sounded so small, even to his own ears. Weak, scared. Like a child.

You waved him over closer, and he listened. If you told him to, he would follow you to the ends of the earth. It surprised him when you grabbed his hand and placed it over your heart, the roughness of the gauze grazing his shaking fingers. He tried to pull away, but you kept him there so he could feel your heartbeat.

"I'm still here, Spencer. You can't get rid of me that easily."

"Do you-" He couldn't stand not knowing anymore. The probability of people saying things they didn't mean while bleeding out was too high for him to think clearly any longer. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

He watched your face turn sad, your lips turn inward and your eyes drop to the hospital-grade blanket. You also dropped his hand, the limb numbly swinging back by his side.

"Yes," You refused to look at him. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you in that situation, it was unfair of me."

"No, I-"

"I understand if I've ruined everything. I don't blame you if you don't want to be friends anymore."

Before he could think and rehearse a thought-out sentence, his mouth moved and spoke for him. "I don't want to be friends."

He realized his mistake not a second later. And to make up for it, to take away the pain on your face, he gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

"I love you too, so much so that the idea of you dying turned me into an illogical and emotional mess."

Tears lined your wide eyes as you stared up at him, your cheeks regaining some color. Now that he's said it out loud, he couldn't keep his mouth shut even if he tried.

"I love you so much, that I want to take away all your pain. All the bad memories and shitty feelings that take away that pretty smile. I'd do anything for you."

You reached up and cupped his cheek, much like hours before, your lip quivering.

"I'd do anything for you too, Spence."

"I know."

It felt natural to kiss your forehead, to settle into the small hospital bed, and tuck you gently into his side. It felt natural to, days later after you were discharged, take you on a proper date and call you his.

A/N- Realistically I know there would be more turmoil, less trust, and more self-doubt during the confession part but this is fiction of fiction so let's just pretend okay:) I'll save that stuff for the full-length stuff. Also along the lines of reality, I know that there is such a thing as a bulletproof vest, but I needed drama so forgive me.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #no use of y/n #canon typical violence #angst with a happy ending #confession

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oh-no-its-bird · 2 days ago

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You are making me EMOTIONAL thinking about baby kakashi losing his teeth and not having his dad around to ask about things now, not even specifically for fang reasons either 😭😭

I think I was late and lost my first took when I was almost seven and idk exactly when Sakumo died officially but. Idk. Something something the tragedy of potentially not even having a parent around to explain what is going on when you lose a tooth for the first time

I'm so glad u sent this actually bc I was thinking ab wanting to write a post ab this premise but wasn't sure how to phrase or start it

Kid Kakashi struggling through starting to lose his baby teeth after his father dies <33

Google tells me that children start losing their baby teeth around 6, and the general age I've seen for Kakashi when Sakumo kills himself is usually around that same number, so, it works out!!

You bring up such a good and fun point actually in just. Does Kakashi know what's happening to him? Has anyone explained to him that your teeth just naturally fall out when you're little?

One day, Kakashi goes to class and sees Obito, who's a few years older than him, bragging about how he "just lost my tooth the other day"

And Kakashi quietly goes to himself, "wow this guy is so bad at fighting, he got his tooth knocked out and he's happy about it. What a weirdo."

Obito is IGNORING the judgmental stares coming from Kakashi's direction, assuming Kakashi is just jealous of his super cool milestone of growing up

Thinking maybe Obito even comes over to try to brag about it, but Kakashi just goes "??? Why are you bragging about losing your teeth ??? God, you're such a freak"

And Obito is like, "I know ur just jealous BAKASHI. Because you are still a BABY while I am on my way to being a MAN"

And inside Kakashi, still deeply confused and weirded out, is like, 'why the fuck would I be jealous' but outloud he just glares and goes, "I've never lost any of my teeth because I never lose."

To which Obito loses his mind because he's like 9 and to a 9 year old that sounded kind of sick and how DARE Kakashi try and be cool about this

(In the background, Minato is well on his way to losing his mind trying not to laugh. Rin meanwhile is squinting and doing mental math as she tries to tell if Kakashi is joking or not)

But anyways like. Kakashi later losing his own teeth and freaking the fuck out about it. Is he sick? Is he dying? Should he go to the doctor?

Oh my god wait ok but Kakashi cornering Rin after a training session and demands she help diagnose him bc he doesn't want to go to the actual doctor or ask Sensei for help. And Kakashi admitting she's a "good med nin" and Rin is kinda going omg Kakashi conpliment,,,, life goals,,

But also like Kakashi thinks he's dying and she's SUPER flattered he thinks she can help but she's like. 10. And a med nin in training.

So she's kind of sweating like "omg what are ur symptoms, why do u think ur dying?"

And Kakashi is like my "fucking teeth are falling out !!!!!!"

And Rin is like "woah that sounds super scary and seriou— Hold on a second."

Kakashi goes as far as to take off his mask to show her, which goes to show how desperate he is rn because he'd usually never do that.

And Rin is torn between being tempted to pinch his cheek and pull at it like it's Mochi and also like. She's struggling SO hard not to laugh at this point because she knows if she does Kakashi will literally never forgive her

So Rin has to break it to Kakashi as gently as she can (and without laughing or cooing at his cute kid naivety) that don't worry, you aren't dying, this is normal

Kakashi doesn't believe her at first. But when he does he's suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment. He will never recover. Hes so fucking glad he didn't actually go to the doctor or to sensei because at least Rin he can swear to secrecy FOREVER

Kakashi has to deal with his suddenly too big for his mouth adult fangs and keeps going to Rin to help heal the cuts they keep leaving on his lips ,,,,

Somehow Obito catches wind of this, and hears "Rin + helping with Kakashi's lips (???)" And thinks they're kissing and loses his goddamn mind in spectacular fashion.

Toddler drama....

Idk where Im really going with this, it ended up taking a life of its own

Uhhh anyways. Moving this conversation entirely:

You can copy pasted this exact concept onto Naruto for a really funny (and kind of awful) au where Naruto loses his first tooth and becomes convinced he's dying

He does actually try to go to the hospital but they try to turn him away, but when he blurts out that he's scared he's dying a particularly mean spirited doctor pretends to examine him then goes "oh no. You really are dying and have a week to live. Boohoo."

Naruto loses his fucking mind and makes a "things I want to do before I die" bucket list and then spends the next week desperatley trying to complete it bc hes convinced he's gonna die on the final day

This list includes but is not limited to:

- become Hokage

- start a family

- eat every single different kind of ramen on Ichiraku's menu

Idk how to make the first and third especially funny but like.

"Starting a family" ending up somehow leading to Naruto very aggressively trying to get literally anyone to hold his hand in a similar fashion to "Uchiha Sasuke's 10 step plan to get revenge" where Sasuke tries to get Shikamaru to marry him in his quest to "live a good life" to get revenge on Itachi, while Naruto hears Sasuke is looking for a husband and very loudly tries to get him to pick him instead

Which is actually a really fucking funny one on its own and now I'm just thinking about that instead, so I'll leave this post here

I got a little distracted, but. Thank you for ur ask !!!

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thatguyjam · 2 days ago

Text

Anything for you

Max Verstappen x Male!Migranes!Reader

When Y/N cant manage to get out of bed because of his head, Max is there to wait on him hand and foot

The moment you woke up, all you could think about was your pain. The pulsing pain of your head not letting you open your eyes, or form a single coherent thought. Rolling over in bed, and reaching towards where Max usually lay this early in the morning, all that was left were warm sheets.

"Hey, sleepy head, time to wake up," Max's loud voice came from the hallway, followed by quick steps coming towards the bedroom, and loud knocks at the door.

"I've made pancakes, wake up and eat while their still hot. I didn't even burn them this time!" As Max entered the room, he soon quieted down, looking at your miserable figure in the sheets. Creeping closer, and finally whispering, he asks, "Hey, baby, what's wrong? Is it your head?"

As you nodded, he cooed softly, climbed into bed to hug you, and massaged your sore joints. "Here, I'll bring you the delicious pancakes I made, and your pain meds, and come coffee, and we can spend the entire day in bed, yeah?" And before you could process what he had said, he had hurried out to get you your breakfast.

The two of you spent the entire morning lazing about in bed, exchanging kisses, and cuddles, and only once abandoning the warmth of the bed, for some more snacks and a couple bathroom runs; and eventually, you fell back to the warm comfort of sleep.

At about 13:00, you suddenly awoke to the blaring sound of Max's alarm. He rushed to turn it off, but when he looked at the screen, his face fell. "Shit"

"What's wrong?"

"I promised the redline boys that I would hop on stream this afternoon, I can cancel and stay in bed with you though, don't worry"

"No no, you should go, I'll be fine"

"But what if you need something! I'll be all distracted and won't be able to help. I can't do that to you" The pout on his face was too adorable, that you couldn't help but kiss it off of him, only stopping to offer your own solution.

"Well how about I set up camp on the couch? I can be off camera and you can keep an eye on me."

"But-"

"I don't care if you're loud, baby. I'll probably fall asleep instantly anyway."

"Fine, but I'm doing all the work."

Within ten minutes, an entire blanket fort had been constructed on the couch, and Max came back to take you to his creation. Only once he had made sure you had enough food, meds, water, and entertainment did he finally go to his sim set up to stream.

While watching him interact with his friends, notably quieter than normal, the warmth of the at least 20 blankets surrounding you drew you to sleep, with his voice as a beautiful, occasionally angry, lullaby.

#f1 x male reader #f1 x disabled reader #migraine #f1 #jamwrites #chronic pain #max verstappen #max verstappen x male reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #redline

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flinny-so · 2 days ago

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As someone with extremely high pattern recognition; I was in a terrible mood the other day. I felt like WW3 is gonna happen for sure and shit's gonna be f**ked completely. That is because Elon didn't seem to get any blowback at all for his salute and Trump reversed all of the little progress Biden made.

Now I think things are gonna be fine in the end because now I see that enough people realize now that Trump is actually gonna do the fascism thing and does not have any qualms of selling out the american people and actively make life worse for every ordinary person. Elon, who's pseudopresident, also qualified himself as a walking civilization hazard.

Everything is gonna be fine, I think, because people only put up with so much and we're already seen how much everyone celebrated Luigi. They're not gonna get away with this indefinitely in a country with more guns than people.

Especially exiting climate agreements, exiting solar energy programs, all the orders he reversed, deregulation is the second most worrying for me.

LGBTQI+ issues of course is not gonna get much better (in particular the availability of drugs, safety of queer kids in school. I don't think they'll touch queer marriage though.) AND let's not forget the constitutional rights of US birthright they're trying to reverse? Crazy. But they are already getting rebuffed for that.

The biggest police union also critisized him for pardoning the January 6 protestors.

Throwing immigrants out of the country is gonna blow back sepctacularly if they really do that. Even conservative farmers are already warning that those people farm all of y'alls food.

These people need to leave office. Especially Elon. Trump needs a puppeteer that is not absolutely stupid and insane the way whoever is telling him what to do now is. (I'm assuming it's the project 2025 guys and the billionaires, you know, some of the worst and dumbest people on the planet) He's a senile, evil man that's a loose cannon. You're probably not gonna manage to topple him because that would mean to throw the whole democracy facade out the window but maybe you'll manage to get him to be more normal (And I can't believe I'm saying this) a little more like last time, best case less insane than back then.

But until then it looks grim not gonna lie and even with the good outcome it's probably not gonna be pretty. This is not a time to be polite. F**k cordiality. The democrats that think they can collab with Trump? They're selling you out. F**k them. You need to make the mfs that justify this evil insanity cry. Roast them so hard that they cry at home and are gonna tell their mom about it. And if they don't stop then and especially if you see them infecting and emboldening other people with this brain disease, tell them you're gonna kick their asses (I say it like that to be polite) if they don't stop. And keep to your word. Sometimes people absolutely need to get their asses kicked. I'm sorry.

Be loud, do not let these people get away with behaving in that way. They need to learn a lesson and at least see that this is gonna make people hate them. And they deserve it.

seeing posts like “is anyone with high pattern recognition really anxious right now?”

girl idk how to break it to you but we are at “that’s right, it goes in the square hole” levels of pattern recognition rn

#fedpost #us politics #donald trump #elon musk

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love-byers · 2 days ago

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i’m having byler doubt rn and i can’t stop thinking about mike already knowing that will’s gay and he might’ve realized that over the few months of will being away in between s3-s4

what if the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” scene isn’t mike projecting but him sort of having a feeling that will likes him romantically. or mike hearing from el that will is painting for a girl he likes, and then he sees will holding a painting in the airport and realizes, that’s why he was being so awkward. and before someone says “mike saw the painting after the awkward hug with will”, what if he actually saw it the moment he walked closer to them and that’s why he pointed it out right away?

and the whole “that’s because she’s my girlfriend, will” “we’re friends. we’re friends” scene. what if he was trying to reject will without being obvious about it. i know he’s like canonically oblivious but what if he’s not?

this is me asking for reassurance/proofs that counters this because it’s bothering me sm 😭 i have some claims in my head that oppose to these but i guess it’s better to hear it from others

1. if mike was suspecting will was gay in the rain fight then he's being homophobic lmao

same dude that tried to fight a homophobe for talking bad about will takes a jab at will for being gay? what changed? why did mike become mildly homophobic between s1 and s3? bc he got a girlfriend? that's not a great message to send...

and like...come on. look at his face. he's heartbroken because will just said he used to want to spend the rest of his life with mike, but not anymore, because mike has made that out to sound outlandish and clearly doesn't want that. that should be further confirming to mike that will does have feelings for him, and he reacts like this?

and if he does suspect will has feeling for him, wtf is this?? 😭 why is he so giddy about will reaffirming what once made mike think will likes him??

it seems like mike had pre planned how he was going to greet will, which was with a shoulder pat. "i can't hug him, that's weird, isn't it??" which would imply that mike thinks hugging will would be romantic....why? he hugs all his other friends normally with no hesitation. and how could he have figured out will liked him between s3 and s4 if he and will barely spoke? and if that's how he treats will when he thinks will might like him, then he's an asshole! 😭😭

and if mike suspected the painting was for him, he was noticeably upset after will said it wasn't for him

he doesn't seem very happy to have confirmation will doesn't have feelings for him 😭 and he went on to be pissy the whole day because will wasn't talking to him. why is he more worried about his platonic bro than his girlfriend?

like i just said, will not giving him the painting should ease all his worries that will has feelings for him. they're just friends. and then will goes on to ignore him all day. why would he still be in the mindset that will likes him during the rink o mania fight?

and we don't have to theorize what was going on with mike between s3 and s4 and at rink o mania. he tells us

"thanks by the way."

"for what?"

"for knocking some sense into me, i mean was being a total self pitying idiot."

during the rink o mania fight, will is knocking some sense into mike. he's saying will was right about everything.

"hey also, about the last few days--"

"you don't have to say anything. i was being a total jerk to el, i deserved it."

"no. no you didn't deserve anything. listen, the last year has been weird, you know?"

mike goes straight from his behavior towards will to how he felt during their time apart. so the two are connected, clearly, since mike is telling us

"i mean max and lucas and dustin, they're great, they're great, it's just...it's hawkins it's not the same without you. and i feel like maybe i was worrying too much about el...i don't know, maybe i feel like i lost you or something."

mike was acting that way because he desperately missed will and felt like will had left a hole in his life. home didn't feel like home anymore. he was torn up inside over it. and he worried that will wasn't reaching out because of how he'd treated will over the summer (ditching him to hang out with el), and that he'd lost will because of that. he's kicking himself, hating himself because he screwed it all up. and he thinks that at the same time he is torn up missing will, feeling all these big feelings about him, will is unbothered, off making new friends. not only does this make him feel like he's feeling too much for will, but he shifts the blame onto will (because he's a self pitying idiot). he feels like it's his own fault, so he projects onto will and makes it wills fault. he doesn't reach out because he thinks will has grown up and moved on like mike had been encouraging him to do all summer, and he doesn't want will to know about all these deep feelings he's having, like will has left a hole in his life, so he doesn't reach out either. he doesn't want to come off desperate. he begins questioning the nature of his feelings towards will, worrying that it's something more than just friendship. if will doesn't care, why does he? why does he care so much?? what's wrong with him??

so he goes on defense. he is not going to let will know how he's been feeling, he's going act aloof. he's going to act like he doesn't care. we are just friends. i don't feel anything more for you, will. see? i don't even want to hug you, i am very clearly your platonic bro. see, everyone? see, el? see, jonathan? i'm straight and he's my platonic bro friend. he's making a spectacle out of it, because grappling with internalized homophobia. he feels like he needs to prove that he's straight.

however mike is a dumbass and instead of realizing that he was way too in his own head. and considering that treating will that way might hurt his feelings, he just gets angry that will isn't treating him the same. will isn't talking to him. will is acting glum. why?? how does he have the audacity to act sad?? this is all his fault in the first place!! if he hadn't gone off and forgotten about me and made me feel this way then none of this would've happened!! he's got to be doing this on purpose!!

and then in the rink o mania fight, it ticks mike off even more because now will is acting like he did nothing wrong. and then:

"well what about us?"

"what?"

uh oh. this is what mike feared. us?? what about us?? there is no us, that's a romantic thing, and we're friends, totally just friends.

"you called maybe a couple of times. it's been a year, mike. meanwhile el has like a book of letters from you."

"that's because she's my girlfriend, will!"

if mike had sent will letters, it would've been gay...? why? actual straight guys don't have to go out of their way to not be gay💀💀

"and us?"

"we're friends! we're friends!"

mike takes this as will asking what the nature of their relationship is, because that's what mike had been doing the whole time they were apart. it was already fresh in his mind. he was being hypervigilant. but that backfires, because will wasn't questioning that. he merely misses their friendship, because will thinks that's all they'll ever be. if he can never have mike romantically, he at least wants to preserve their friendship.

will never questions the nature of their relationship. he thinks he's got it all figured out. he likes mike, but mike is straight, and that's how it'll always be. they will always be just friends. meanwhile mike is still being a disaster with internalized homophobia, questioning his own feelings and projecting it onto will. he's confused and scared and messy as fuck.

but will knocked some sense into him. will made him realize that all this defensiveness and projection was hurting them. will isn't playing with him, will isn't out to get him, will hasn't moved on from him. will still cares, and mike can just be honest with him. so he is, and that's how we get the talk in wills room. mike is honest and vulnerable and puts it out there that he just misses will and wants to be best friends and stick together. and at the end of the day that's all will wants too.

and also, about mike trying to reject will by saying we're friends, again that's a pretty aggressive and homophobic-ish way to do that don't you think? if mike has will all figured out why is he being an asshole?? most people who suspect a friend has feelings for them do not go on attack mode and shoot down every advance the friend makes, even if they're just platonic. that's the behavior of someone who is projecting

here are some other posts i've made about this topic:

here

stay strong my fellow byler warrior, this battle will be over soon

#byler #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #mike wheeler i know what you are #byler analysis #milkvan is bones #anti milkvan

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femmenature · 20 hours ago

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Good luck, Babe!

Pairing: Ellie Williams x f! reader (ofc)

Summary: Ellie is your best friend, or so you tell yourself after you're done kissing and doing things that friends don't normally do. But that's over since you have a boyfriend, and you're pretending to be something you're not.

Warnings: Inappropriate language, infidelity, mentions of sex, jealousy.

Your “friendly” relationship with Ellie was not easy, even if it seemed quite the opposite when you were alone with no one watching. You couldn't explain when this happened. When you started to see each other as more than friends, your mind blurs as you try to remember when her hands fit so well with yours and when the songs she played on her guitar started to play just for you. You think you don't remember because nerves make your brain melt, and your heart melt too. She's the only one who can do it, and losing control of the situation makes you despair. That's what led you to cut everything off, actually, you don't even know what you cut off. You couldn't define what you had, you were and still are friends. You broke the unexpected news about your new boyfriend with your friends, she was there too. It was an impulsive act because you knew you couldn't tell her alone.

“girl, congratulations I'm so happy for you!” exclaimed Dina happily as she hugged you.

“It's about time, isn't it?” Jesse joked as he playfully undoes your hair.

As soon as Dina broke the hug Ellie's face came into your view. She didn't say anything, her eyebrows were slightly furrowed trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. She looked at you with a hint of sadness but also with a claim, she wanted to claim so many things, she wanted to get angry and demand so much from you. Her heart was ready to tell you to give her back everything you were taking from her at that moment but on the other side she was dying to ask you not to do it, not to leave her, not to give up, to stay with her.

“I'm happy for you, good luck” but that's all that came out of her mouth, it seemed that the last words carried an ironic tone, but only you noticed it, because you knew very well what she was trying to tell you.

After that day it was obvious that your friendship wasn't the same, you didn't hang out alone, you only hung out with Jesse and Dina, and it was better that way. Or that's what you were trying to tell yourself. Your thoughts were interrupted by Dina, who texted you to party tonight. Obviously we were all going to go, she has great convincing power. The problem is that your boyfriend is going too, and Ellie is going to meet him. You had double dates with Jesse and Dina, they ended up being double dates because Ellie conveniently always canceled when she found out your boyfriend was going too. But I guess that changed today, or it would be too suspicious if she didn't come again.

“What are you thinking, gorgeous?” ugh, you hated that nickname. Or you just hated it coming out of his mouth. Because you really liked it when it came out of Ellie's.

You faked a smile and sighed before answering your boyfriend “I was just thinking about the party today”

He walks up to you with a cocky smile “I'm going to be with you, you don't have to worry about it” clearly that's not what you were talking about, but you just let it go. “And aren't you excited? I'm finally going to meet your friend Annie”

“It's Ellie. Not Annie” you roll your eyes, you couldn't help it. You were annoyed by something as simple as him mispronouncing her name. But it's her name. How could he mispronounce it? You couldn't hide your annoyance over something so small and it bothered you. It bothered you to know that you are losing control of the situation with the pronunciation of her simple name. You didn't need her presence to be overwhelmed with emotions and that scares you, it scares you too much.

“Chill, Ellie, whatever” his words were vague, he didn't even care about meeting your friends, he just wants to give you satisfaction by pretending he does. It was time to leave for the party and meet your friends there. It was a house, doors open, people kissing on the front steps, Christmas lights adorning the frames, even though the season was long gone. Plastic cups everywhere, laughter and scattered conversations were the decoration of the place but your eyes were only looking for her. A hand touched your shoulder and as you turned around you saw Dina smiling at you and your boyfriend.

“Finally lovebirds, it took forever” you hugged her greeting her and when you rested your face on her shoulder you saw her. Ellie was behind, looking at you, playing with her hands nervously as she looked at him and then quickly to the floor. As if it was the most eccentric thing ever. You broke away from Dina and waved to Jesse, then did the same to Ellie.

“Finally, its a pleasure Annie, I was looking forward to meeting you” your boyfriend interrupted the greeting with Ellie, smiling with false honesty. You looked at him angrily, you had literally reminded him of her name a few minutes ago, it seemed like he was doing it on purpose. I was about to remind him again when Ellie cut me off.

“It's nice to meet you Frank” she replied coldly, looking him in the eye. Your boyfriend sighed in frustration and reluctantly replied “My name is Mark”

“I guess the three of us have bad memories, hm?” Ellie tapped his shoulder as she passed and escaped the situation, heading for the bathroom

“all three of us?” Mark looked at you in confusion, trying to guess what she tried to say

You ignored his question and decided to confront Ellie once and for all, entering the bathroom without knocking. Her hands were resting on the marble countertop and her head was down. “What are you doing here” she didn't even need to see you to know it was you. She knows your steps, your perfume, she knows everything about you. “Shouldn't you be with your little boyfriend?” she spat angrily.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? did you really have to leave like that? doesn't it seem too obvious?" you pull your hair back in frustration. She looks at you in disbelief “Are you fucking with me? that's what you're going to tell me? I should be complaining about things”

she herself pointed to her chest, wanting somehow to make you understand what she is saying “you come all this way to point out to me that I am being obvious when you didn't even give me a reason to stop being obvious. You just showed up one day exclaiming you had a boyfriend and all I could do was step aside and let you go” her hand went back to the bathroom counter, squeezing it ”when you didn't give me any reason to do so. And I don't know how you do it but it's not easy for me to stop loving you overnight, so I'm sorry for not disguising it the way you would want me to” Her hand reached for the door handle but your back instantly pressed against the door closing it again.

“You know it wasn't the right thing to do, what we were doing” her hand was still on the door handle as she looked you in the eyes “then why are you blocking my way?” she whispered as her heart was racing. And all you wanted to tell her was the truth. Because you couldn't let her go like that, because she's all you want, all you long for, but your mouth said something else “we were nothing, just confused friends.”

She laughed under her breath with sarcasm “Is it so hard for you to say it's love? I want you to tell me something” she let out a sigh ”When you see his face when he gets up, do you recognize yourself? Really, when you look at yourself in the mirror, do you know yourself?” Your eyes betrayed you and looked quickly at the mirror next to you, returning your gaze quickly to her, with a hint of embarrassment ”Because I have no idea who you are. And when you finally wake up from your lie after so many years of living a sham, the only thing you're going to get from me is an I told you so.”

your gaze dodges her and your back peels away from the door , leaving the way clear for her to leave the bathroom “and I really would have liked it to be you. Shit, I really do, but if I have to beg you to stay I guess you don't love me enough, and I just want someone who feels the same way I do” her fingers moved closer to yours, trying to caress them, the distance was so deep even though the centimeters were ridiculously short ”I wouldn't care what they say about us, loving you is never going to be something shameful, I never saw it that way. I never felt it that way, I wish you would understand that and stop being afraid. But I can't force you to feel more love than you do.”

The only thing that sounded after that was the door being closed. The feeling of anguish that dwells in your chest feels so heavy that it drags you down to the cold bathroom floor. You hug your legs trying to protect yourself from your own guilt screaming at you from the mirror. Even though you know your shadow's speech by heart, at the end of the day it is yours. And even if you try to hide it's still there, telling you that you will never be happy if you deny yourself what you really love. Why do you need control? You keep telling yourself that it's natural to be with him when you know it's unnatural to force yourself to touch his face when your heart doesn't want to. And the most real you ever felt in life was with her. It makes you sick to know that you have to go home to him and have to put up with the lack of love you feel, or don't feel. So you get up from the bathroom, and when you see yourself in the mirror, the only thing you think is that you want to know yourself again, and you know who knows you well enough to remind you of who you are.

In a hurried step you opened the door and looked for her through the crowd, not finding her silhouette you left the house, ignoring the calls of your friends and Frank. Her car was in sight, you would recognize it anywhere since on starry nights we drove around in it listening to music. The lights came on, indicating that she was inside, about to leave, and you rushed over, opening the passenger door, without permission, and sat down. “What are you doing? You really have a problem with opening doors unexpectedly” she scowled at you.

“I'm an idiot. And you're right, everything you said to me in the bathroom, you're right. But you were wrong about one thing” you swallowed nervously looking into her eyes with sincerity ”I love you as much as you love me. And yes, fear paralyzed me, the lack of control over my feelings made me make a stupid and senseless decision. I overflowed with love, I really did. And not being able to hold that back and put it in its place I ran away. This is not a justification, nor is it an excuse. I'm just telling you the truth, I want to be me again, and I was never more myself than when I'm with you. I don't want to be afraid of love. I don't want to walk away from you.”

"Then don't do it" her hand rested on your leg, caressing it with her thumb "let me remind you who you are" her hands unbuckled her car seatbelt and she approached me, resting her forehead on mine "let me love you like he could never do" and without saying anything, you kissed her like you never did before. Without fear.

I guess she told you so!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x you #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #wlw #wlw ns/fw #wlw ellie williams #lesbian

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baepsays · 3 hours ago

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blood of a prey ⸻ Fushiguro Toji.

cw: mention of animal blood, fem oriented reader, sex, ambiguous anatomy, she/her pronouns, outdoor sex, just sweet mutual pining and fluffy smut, kind of your forbidden love, third person pronouns.

Emperor Toji often hunted alone. Be it that he didn't really grow up with a herd of people following him around praising his inadequate skills and pandering to him, or maybe because he was too used to scavenging and gathering some food for himself as well as the kids he grew up with, all by himself. It was always a competition, finder’s keepers. So it was easier to hunt by himself.

But after one point in his life, he never denied the company of one person, in fact it was mandatory to have you—his grand chancellor—with him at all times. Especially when he's out on a hunt to amuse himself. He never understood why the royals did that but as the current ruling emperor of the region he understands the need to go out deep into the woods with none but his wisest and most trusted.

So here he was galloping into the woods on his black horse, around the area where one would often sight a boar. With you on his tow, on a contrasting white horse. You two have always been two different pieces of the puzzle who complete each other, and the entire picture.

Toji spots a boar in the distance sipping on some water from a pond, and he tugs on his reins to get his horse to run faster. You notice him quickening his pace and match his movements by tightening the grip on your horse's reins. By the time you catch up to him he has already struck down the boar with his arrow from about 20 feet away. If that is not impressive I do not know what is.

“That was an incredible target, your majesty.” you say with a calm demeanor. You were never known for your affective responses, though you have come to realize more emotions in the years you have known the current majesty himself. You have lost your temper on him about countless times, spent nights with anguish— drowning in worries about the kingdom and him. You have also found a reservoir in your physical pleasure and needs. You have noticed a little ball of tension forming in your abdomen and chest over miniscule actions performed by the emperor.

Sometimes Toji would be aware of it. Other times it would a the most predictable course of action for him to comprehend what the he is making you feel— my goodness, viz; how right now he jumped off his horse which he stopped by the, now fallen boar, and goes up to it to pick it up on his shoulder, and getting some blood smeared across his face in that process.

“Do you think we should go over the slum reform plans once more tonight? I was not really satisfied with what was presented to us. Hmm?” He continues their conversation before the boar sighting, as if this was the most normal course of happenings.

And yet stood there eyes a little wide, mouth open agape, shivers running on your skin, and a familiar unidentifiable knot is back in the pits of your stomach with the accompanying tightening around your thorax. It was as if you could not take your eyes off his green irises or the animal blood smeared across his cheeks. It really contrasted, yet simplified who he was— a brutish man with no regards for the royalty he possessed, but only what he could make of it.

“Y/n?” He calls your name out to pull you out of that unresponsive trance.

“Yes, your majesty?” You respond a second too late from your usual reactivity, getting out of your trance with a final gulp to swallow down the desires ascending.

“Well like I was saying, I did not like foreign minister's proposal,I mean I never found the guy to be that interested in any internal affairs to begin with.” He moves to put the dead boar on the back of his horse, with ease of one of his hands, and the other going to rub off the blood on his face with the hilt of his hand, then pushing back his hair— which only just smeared the blood further across his face, all around the scar at the right corner of his lips .

You were back in your trance watching him move around effortlessly while his eyes landed on a singular firefly flying over both your heads. The sun had already set, it wouldn't be difficult to notice a firefly in the orange to dark transitioning dusky sky— what was scarce was the firefly itself. It has been a while since anyone has sighted a firefly roaming around. So he puts the boar on his horse's back and ties both of your rides to the nearest tree then grabs a hold of your hand to pull you towards the direction of the firefly’s path.

“Those are-” you find yourself in awe of the sight before you. Hundreds, nay, thousands of fireflies gathered in a sparkle.

“Fireflies huh.” He quipped beside you, his face breaking into a smile at the sight of a sparkle.

“It has been a while since I last saw so many fireflies together.” He somberly says, with his eyes still trained on the fireflies.

“In fact, it has been a fat while since I last saw even one firefly, I used to catch them all the time you know.” he looks over at you now, though you have never been one to speak without reason, you've never held back from speaking freely in his presence —even at times when you try to hold back, you've never been able to. And when he looks at you, thinking you might be in awe of the sight to look away and reply to him, he finds your eyes in fact, halted, in his direction.

“What is it? Are you alright? It has been a while since we ate, hasn't it? And it's nighttime already, are you cold or-” he never finished that sentence— as you leaned in towards him, your eyes looking into his eyes, a little glazed and unfocused even.

He was probably expecting a kiss, at most, but he never in his life would have guessed what you did next— you held the clean side of his face with one hand, placed the other on his collar and pulled him in. Then close the gap between you two to only just graze your lips against him, to move up to his cheeks and give the blood smeared across his face a big stripe of lick. Followed by a few kitten licks to clean it all up.

And all he could do, shut up and adhere, for once.

The sparkle of fireflies swarmed the pond. The luminescent bugs mingled and brightened the forest along with the stars and the moon.

All the while the ruler of the lands encompassing the forest and the vast beyond, had his most entrusted advisor— who is second to none but him — sat atop his lap, letting him indulge his nation’s grand chancellor as he pleased. With his lips engulfing the broad expanse of her decolletage and going back and forth between her lips and the span of her neck. Minding not to leave any visible marks, to not have his grand chancellor later present him with an agitated lecture. As much as he may enjoy the sight of that, he will refrain for now.

“Your majesty- please move along, more.” the advisor pleads.

“Goodness doll, have some patients.” he simply smirks beneath her as he replies.

“I have had enough.” she deadpans, determined and starts moving her hips, to create friction where they are connected.

Toji winces at the stretch around his cock, unable to hold back the moan and the urge to ram himself upwards. He let her momentarily take the lead of the course. It is only when she collapses on his clothed chest, well barely really— he was adorned in breezy black cotton button up shirt, showing off the huge expanse of his chest and collar bones— they were both still fully clothed, with the exception of his pantaloons being tucked down to accommodate his penis, while the advisor’s bottom half of the garments were all gone— the buttons were ripped off her trousers, her vest long gone into pieces of shreds, the poor button down shit hanging onto her shoulder by one remaining buttoned hole in the middle of her shirt.

She throws her head back at a particular stretch down there and, the emperor finally loses it all, seeing his auxiliary fall apart on his cock barely holding oneself up by digging her nails into his bare shoulder— he tightens the grip around her waist and buttocks, letting himself mark her, only where no one but he can see. And he gives into his bodily and romantic desires, as he plunges himself deeper.

“I - I sometimes look at you. And, and i just come over with- ” she sighs then continues. “ with these desires. Desires which are not explicable, and it tightens up my thorax and gut” she stops to heave out a moan and continues this time with her forehead on his, looking back into each other’s pupils. “Your, majesty.” she whispers.

“Yes doll” he looks into her eyes as if she holds the key to all the answers in the universe, and to him, the minister might as well.

“Those are the times when you feel, more than ever, out of my grasp. Do you ever feel similarly?” with those last questions she gives up, and gives into her own pleasures aided by him.

“I never feel that.” he gives out a dry response. Making her turn her head to the side on his shoulder, to observe his face, eyes glazed, both arms limp to her side.

“Because there is no moment I am not consumed by your existence, never, since the day you told me you belong to me over the throne. I know you by your scent alone. ” he confided into the crook of her neck, holding onto her limp body while he chased his own pleasure.

“And there is no moment where I do not feel, as if you are slipping out of my fingers, despite your claims.” he confesses as he releases within your core. These fleeting moments are where he feels as if you are never quite in his grasp, at least not in a manner he would prefer.

a/n: dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/omi-resources. header from jjk manga. i keep writing about blood dude wtf is going awnnn. have fun reading<3 i edited as much as i could last night so there still might be mistakes sowwy :(

THIS IS A LONG FIC IN PROGRESS [ CALLED ‘EMERALD SOVEREIGN’ ] IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED IN THE MAIN FIC PLEASE ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.

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ericmicael · 2 days ago

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So fate repeated itself and Olrox turned Mizrak into a vampire to save him from death and stay with his beloved forever. But they both ended up alive.

Just like what happened with Strigga and Morana, did they become more secondary? Maybe? Mizrak in the final part was left facing minions, but he also didn't have the power to fight in the big fights, being the only normal human. And Olrox... Olrox for me was in fact reduced, he makes an appearance helping against Doltra saving Alucard, but it's only a few hits before he leaves and Doltra herself decides to become an observer of the fight against Erzebet.

In the few blows he exchanged with Doltra I really feared for Olrox's death, but his injuries ended up being forgotten.

And the rivalry with Richter himself ends up being paused, Richter goes traveling with Annete and promises a fight in the future, but honestly I think neither of them seems very worried about it. Things have gotten too big to worry about a personal revenge.

Strigga and Moranna were literally pushed to the side, away from the main conflicts, but the fourth season was also quite complicated in terms of narrative. This season really felt like Netflix was trying to please those who didn't like the third season, so the lesbian vampire couple being relegated to obscurity is just another problem in this fourth season... But it ended with a happy ending for them, so okay.

One of the arcs of the second season of "Nocturne" was the doubt about whether Tera still had humanity inside her. Mizrak was one of those who only considered her as a monster and who will now live the same drama, but in Tera's case she seems to have lost the fight by giving in to her monster side.

Mizrak will most likely be a very violent vampire, in his final scene with Olrox he was really portrayed as a villain and being a religious man his thoughts will be even more conflicted. What I mean is that I doubt he and Olrox will survive a third season.

It's sad to always be afraid that a gay couple might die, but Mizrak x Olrox has so many death flags...

One of the worst cases is that Mizrak ends up losing so much control over himself that when he dies Olrox will abandon the little humanity he still had and in a mixture of mourning and regret will transform into a dragon and have the final fight against Richter just because that's all the vampire has left. And when Belmont prevails he will lament the vampire's fate, although he still hasn't forgiven him for the death of his mother.

Do Olrox and Mizrak have a chance of surviving the series?

The lesbian couple from the first series Striga and Morana survived at the cost of having very little screen time.

They chose a beautiful designer for Striga's armor (inspired by "Berserk", although it looks more like Artorias from "Dark Souls" who was inspired by "Berserk") and she only used it to kill generic people.

Olrox has a rivalry with Richert for killing his mother in revenge for her killing the man he loved. But at the end of the season he acted like an anti-hero and although he denied at first having fallen in love with Mizrak he admitted it in the end.

The story of these two men has everything to be quite tragic, I just hope there is no betrayal: Olrox forcibly transformed the man he loved into a vampire, which was technically the reason Julia Belmont killed him. Unfortunately, I have little hope for a happy ending for this gay couple.

#reblog #spoilers #castlevania nocturne #castlevania netflix #olrox #mizrak #olrox x mizrak

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sujiverse · 2 days ago

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— ୨ৎ . . . zero-zero-one !

sypnosis: how suji and the seventeen members met.

genre/s: slice of life

warning/s: disrespect, emotional tension

word count: 1.4k

a/n: not proof read!

The building of Pledis Entertainment was filled with energy as usual, including the music coming from the practice rooms, the shouting of the trainers, and the laughter of the trainees who were trying to find some fun in between their demanding schedules. The older trainees would scold the younger ones, but would later on find themselves joining in on the fun.

The trainees, a part of the soon-to-be debuting boy group, were busy attending their training. Although it might seem like a normal day for them, they had no idea how drastically their lives would change after this day. Right in the middle of their session, one of the staff member's appeared at the door.

"Everyone who is a part of the debut line up, come with me. The CEO wanted to see you.” The said members were already looking at each other, trying to visit their past activities.

At the mention of the CEO wanting to meet them, almost everyone began overthinking. ‘Did they do something wrong?’ or worse ‘Will their debut not continue anymore?’

Seungkwan, one of the maknaes, held onto the oldest member’s arm. He clutched on his sleeve, feeling his insides shaking. “Hyung… Will we be okay?” The oldest member, Seungcheol, placed his hand on top of the younger and whispered assurance. “I’m sure everything will be alright, Kwannie.” He held Seungkwan's hand, giving it a light squeeze and smiling at him to ease the nervousness.

They slowly reached the room and all of them felt the atmosphere getting heavy with each step. The boys had nervous expressions that the CEO instantly recognized as they got inside. “Relax.” He smiled at them, “There’s nothing wrong. We just have an announcement.” The members could feel the heavy feeling on their chest go away except the oldest, who felt something was off.

He tried to figure out the CEO’s expression, he couldn't help but think about a couple of things. Maybe he was overthinking it, maybe it's because they were almost nearing debut that they—

Before anyone could ask questions or Seungcheol's worry worsened, the door creaked. The sound of the door opening somehow shifted everyone’s attention to it. A staff member entered, followed by someone trailing closely behind—a person dressed in casual clothes, their face mostly hidden by a black mask.

“Ah, you're here!” The curiosity of the members' piqued. They stared at the figure, trying to figure out who this mysterious person was to which they failed. It was impossible with the mask on yet there was a sense of familiarity lingering inside the room. The CEO had a wide smile across his face when the trainees turned back to him.

“I want you to meet the final member of your group.”

The room fell silent. Final member?

All thirteen boys had the same questions in their head which is why they spent a whole minute looking at each other, even murmuring words that the new member couldn't make out. The tall figure wasn't affected by the situation at all and stepped forward to introduce herself.

“Suji. I’m Kang Suji.” She bowed after speaking, it didn't bother her when the boys showed a confused expression. Her name sent ripples of confusion to them. It didn't ring a bell.

Kang Suji? It's a name they haven't heard of—nor have they ever seen her inside the building.

“Sir.” Her eyes moved to the member who spoke, it was the oldest. She already knew them from their faces, names, personality, and skills right at the very start of her trainee days at Pledis. Was it a talent she had? No. But maybe it was because of one of her advantages, as the younger sister of the famous girl groups at the company and for debuting earlier, to be equipped with their information.

It wouldn't be called illegal if almost all companies knew the capability Suji had in mixing and matching people to create a group. She held the stare of Seungcheol, the oldest. Was she threatened by his stare? No. But was she expecting an outburst? Yes.

“I’m sorry and not to offend you, but you can't just add a random person to our group.” Suji raised her eyebrows. Underneath her mask, she was licking the insides of her cheek, somehow feeling annoyed.

“Why not?” The CEO responded with a strict tone.

For a split second, Suji saw the fear in the other member's eyes. She knew what kind of fear it was, she had felt it before yet she remained nonchalant.

“Sir, we’ve been training for months… even years! We pushed ourselves to the limit. Some of us have been here for long enough to see others come and go. We’ve lost some of our friends. We’ve sacrificed everything to be at this moment. And, all of a sudden, you're adding someone—” Suji felt offended by the way Seungcheol looked at her up and down. She knew the feeling and even understood his emotions, but it cannot excuse the behavior he was showing. “—who looks like he’s never stepped foot in a training room.”

The words hung in the air like a challenge. Some of the members glanced nervously between Seungcheol and Suji, while others looked at the CEO for an explanation. She scoffed as she felt the weight of judgment, the unspoken doubts they had about her. She ran her fingers through her short hair, that she didn't want to cut but had to for the sake of the team.

“So, is this how you train them?” Suji asked, her tone showing how irritated she was, directed at the CEO. She wondered, if they knew her identity would they act like that? Her tone caught the members off guard. Seungcheol had his hands balled into a fist, his anger was fueled by the disrespect she showed for their CEO. “I didn't receive this kind of training, Mr. CEO.” She continued, sarcasm dripping from her words. The older one placed a hand on her shoulder, whispering something only she can hear. It made her roll her eyes at him.

Seungcheol was bewildered. He wanted to voice out his thoughts, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. The CEO clapped his hand once to bring the attention to him. “You don't have to be so rude to my ACE, Seungcheol.”

The room froze.

ACE?

The nickname echoed in their ears. It was a name they’d heard whispered among the staff, a title reserved for a trainee who had it all. They know nothing about the sex of the trainee, but from what they knew it was for someone exceptional. Someone untouchable. They have been curious of the trainee, even more intrigued at the reason as to why they hid them.

“You’re…” one of the younger members, Seokmin, trailed off. Suji could only move her gaze to the CEO who continued, “You’re right. Let me introduce her properly this time. She is—yes, a girl— Kang Suji or also known as ACE.” The room was still buzzing with disbelief, the members couldn't process what they had just heard.

The CEO could sense the shift in the room. “I know she didn't train with you and her journey might’ve been different, but she has already proven herself. That's why she’s here.” At the mention of her abilities, the room grew quieter. “Suji will be joining the team, effective immediately. This decision has been made with careful consideration and despite the confusion, I hope all of you will find a way to welcome her.” A hand landed on the female’s shoulder, the older man squeezed it in hopes of comforting her.

Suji remained standing, the weight of the moment settling into her chest. She knew the road ahead would be tough, but she was ready for it. Taking a step forward made her release a sigh she didn't know she was holding, she took one last glance at the CEO, who gave her a warm smile and a nod of approval, before following the boys to their practice room.

Suji could only smile at the CEO, feeling uneasy but not showing it to anyone. The CEO clapped his hands together, signalling the end of the meeting. “Alright, let's get back to training. You all have a lot to learn, so does Suji. We’ll make it work, just trust the process.” The boys slowly filled out the room, whispering amongst themselves.

#ᰍㅤ۪ ㅤ수지 ㅤᜑ ㅤSCENARIOS ㅤ.ᐟ #14th seventeen member #seventeen 14th member #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #kpop fictional oc #kpop added member

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nelkcats · 2 years ago

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Build a bear

Danny went to build his own teddy bear with his parents out of town, Jazz suggested that he could make them say they loved him and record it for life, which would help him when he went to college or finally decides to reveal himself to them, that idea reassured him more than it seemed.

His sister probably wanted him to have a "support bear" like her own, Bearbert, and honestly his old teddy bear was good enough, but maybe a new one with a love reminder would help.

Amity was a small town, so the build a bear shops weren't really there, at least he had found one near Jersey, it was a long drive but he was willing to convince his parents to go.

When they finally arrived at the location, using the excuse of a ghost infestation to lure them; he tried to make a recording of his parents love words but all he ends up recording is "Let's destroy that ectoplasmic scum, he's a threat" with a lot of little lengthy things about Phantom and what they would like to do to him, wich only made him sad.

The last thing that could be heard on the recording was "I just wanted them to tell me they loved me, to remember it when they tie me to that laboratory table" in frustration.

Danny decides to give up and puts the teddy back on the shelf, the manager looks at him sadly and he just pays for it, he did not wanted to cause the employee more trouble; at the end he went back to the GAV, empty-handed and trying to remind himself that his parents love him, even if their priorities are weird and misplaced.

Days later, the Waynes drag Damian into the same store, Damian grumbling the entire way that he didn't need kid's stuff.

While the demon boy complains about the uselessness of everything, Jason notices a green teddy bear, with a jumpsuit full of stars and a sign that says "Boo", it was obviously made to remind a ghost, and he was amused by the "dead" bear so he asked the manager the price, she denies and comments that it was already paid for, but the boy never took it.

More surprised than curious, Jason holds the bear in his arms, squeezing it, it was fluffy; that caused the last thing that was recorded to be played. His blood ran cold hearing what sound like a couple of crazy doctors preparing a vivisection, this in itself was terrible, but the worst part is that the boy's voice at the end, although a little damaged, implied that he was the experiment.

Reluctantly he decided to take the bear to his brothers, this is a mystery in the form of a teddy bear and they are not going to let it go. Even if it's not directly a cry for help, he recognizes incompetent parents and a dangerous situation when he sees one.

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coquelicoq · 1 month ago

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good morning can i show you guys the christmas card my little sister wrote me in french (she does not know any french)

joyeux Noël, j'espère que vous comprenez ce que je dis compte tenu de la fiabilité de Google Translate. Jespère qu'à l'avenir nous voir plus de deux fois par an. Je ne sais pas vraiment quoi dire d'autre, alors joyeux Noël et j'espère que papa t'a offert. Profitez également des autres choses que je mets sur la carte au lieu de vous ècrire un essai complet.

and then she wrote me a little crossword and a "connect the language to its way of saying 'merry christmas'" game 😭

#i really don't know what j'espère que papa t'a offert is supposed to be. seems to be missing a direct object #the previous sentence is also missing a couple words but i know what it is supposed to mean #french #sibling feels #anyway this was sweet #i am a little worried about her because a) one of the languages she put on the card for how to say merry christmas is hebrew #which is an odd choice if you're going to pick five languages to say merry christmas in lol #and i had just learned at dinner that b) she had never heard of chanukah. which is a bit concerning #also sidenote the hebrew version of merry christmas given is hag shmah which i'm guessing is the same as chag sameach?#which is used for any holiday not just christmas lol #i'm also a little worried because i think my brother gets more parental attention #or maybe my dad only pays attention to the sports that his kids play?#like my dad coaches my sister's team but didn't know what classes she has next semester #but seems to know all sorts of stuff about my brother's life #also she's 14 and i think wants to be much younger than that? or thinks 14 is very young (which it is but she is a teen. she called #herself a 'little girl' and was mad because she was home alone for the second time ever yesterday)#idk she's clearly just very sheltered. when they were driving me home we saw a homeless man on the side of the road holding #a sign and she said he was scary and i was like how come? he's just standing there #and she said one time she saw a guy like that and he was angry and now she thinks all of them (meaning homeless people ig)#are scary. so i had a conversation with her about that #like 14 is young she is a kid she has a lot of stuff to learn which is normal! but is she getting taught anything? is anyone paying #attention to her? i see her so rarely (as mentioned in the card) because i don't have a car and because i don't have #fond memories of that household and avoid my dad and stepmom but i should really try harder with her #my brother also wrote me a very nice card! he was pretty considerate yesterday which is also new #he did not discuss his opinion of the military or capitalism this time so i don't know how he is feeling about them these days lol #we talked a lot about sports lol

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kaeyaswifefromsnezhnaya · 2 days ago

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Thanks for the detailed response, I appreciate the approach to the characters. I think I should clarify that this post was a rather out-of-context thought, which comes across as odd to those who don't know what I'm talking about. I'll explain that now, and I'm not forcing you to agree with me, just letting you know why I said it.

Let's start with the fact that I don't think Akane and Aoi are well-written characters. I don't believe in their love, which explains all the strangeness of their behavior. If you approach their analysis not from the point of view of "a comedy couple in the background, it is unclear whether they are dating or not", but to each one separately, raising the reasons for their actions and the actions themselves, then it looks very weak. I don't think the "they love each other so much" explanation is enough. People tend to romanticize their not-so-normal relationship and let plot holes slide by explaining it away as love. I didn't like it from the start, then I became an Aoi fan, thought about her a lot, and about Akane accordingly. A lot. For years I thought about why and how, because the puzzle doesn't fit, because it wasn't enough for me to just believe in their love. I'm a pro-shipper, and so are my friends, and they love Akane (while I paid more attention to Aoi), they love him, but still think his actions are inadequate. I mean that the factor of personal attitude to a character shouldn't affect the assessment of his actions. And also that I have no reason to judge the pairing or the characters' actions just because they are problematic, it doesn't bother me, and I proceed from whether it is appropriate, whether it is presented beautifully, whether it is necessary for the plot. And here's the thing, I wouldn't say it should.

I understand what you're saying. I've studied this take on Aoikane's relationship, this is how their shippers see it, so I'm familiar with the idea. Akane is very worried about Aoi, Aoi runs away from everyone, Akane wants to reach out to her, he does it all for her sake - that's what I'm talking about in a nutshell. I can understand why people believe this. But I can't believe it myself. I can't turn a blind eye to all of Aoikane's strange actions and say that it's out of love and for the good. So, how I see Aoikane and why I wrote that post.

They've been friends since they were kids, and they were pretty close, so much so that it's a bit weird - Akane is a sociable kid, but he didn't need anyone except this quiet girl next door. I would understand if he was a quiet kid, that he would be comfortable with her, and other kids wouldn't understand them both, but Akane is not like that - he gets along well with others, but he doesn't need anyone except Aoi. From the very beginning, he's attached to her as a character, even when he's a little kid with no clear character traits. We never see his flashbacks apart from Aoi, nor Aoi's flashbacks apart from Akane. Their entire existence is tied only to each other, and it only becomes more noticeable later. Then Akane falls in love with Aoi in middle school, which is actually completely normal, but then he becomes a hostage to this idea. His entire life is reduced to Aoi. The Clock Keepers used Aoi in their manipulation, he became the school's mystery because of her, his belief in the value of life is built on Aoi, he joined the student council for Aoi, pumped up his muscles for Aoi, learned occult things for Aoi - and what does he have outside of her? He reduced his entire life to Aoi. He literally wants nothing but her, and when she asks him in the tunnel what he likes, after telling him about some of her personal interests - he again says that he likes only Aoi. Anything else besides her? Akane is tied to his role as Aoi's simp, he barely exists outside of her. He's as much of a fan of her as the rest of the boys in school, but he thinks he's allowed to do more because he's her childhood friend. He says so, he uses those words all the time to justify how he runs after Aoi. Although their relationship is barely explored in terms of friendship. They were friends a long time ago, in childhood, until Akane fell in love with Aoi, and since then he hasn't acted like her friend, pestering her with confessions. Is this what friendship looks like? And I wouldn't say that Aoi enjoys it. She is really withdrawn because she has been pestered her whole life by guys trying to hit on her because of how cute she is. And what does her best close friend do? Same thing. Sure, she has withdrawn herself even more, sure, she has put distance between herself and Akane. Aoi is so withdrawn for a reason, it's not because she is just a pathological coward and a liar, she has been pestered her whole life. Nene, possessed by a ghost, tries to kiss her, Akane tries to kiss her without asking, Teru told him that Aoi hates that, she admitted it herself, but Akane can do it, he is not like the others, he is her childhood friend, he understands her at a glance. Although he has never offered to help her with her socialization, if he cares so much about her well-being. A friend's duty is also to support morally, and Akane did not do this, and even if we accept as a given that Aoi does not like to share with him, it is true, but he has patience for confessions? For some reason he continues to seek her hand, he is not embarrassed by her refusals, but as soon as Aoi answered a couple of times "I do not want to talk about it", he gave in? A strange division of respect for her opinion. It's as if he doesn't need to work in this direction, because he only cares about the idea of "dating Aoi", and not anything else. "I didn't want to tell you this, it will upset you", and pestering her with attempts to beat a confession out of her will not upset her? It's as if Akane did not want to tell her this (about her shortcomings that he does not like), because it will only hinder him. Aoi will think about her actions and possibly separate from him, which is absolutely not what he needs.

The way Akane stopped questioning Aoi's behavior in the shinigami arc and just started acting.

For Akane to discuss the problem with words through his mouth? Yeah, lol, not far removed from the Aoi he condemns, he's also a big inventor, he's also stuck in his own theory and sees confirmation of it in everything. He doesn't need to find out Aoi's reasons and get to know her better, he consoles himself with the fact that he knows her better than others, he quickly drained the conversation about "what the hell is going on, Aoi, why are you doing this, I'm worried about you" to stupidly keep Aoi to himself. And what's wrong with that, it would seem that not wanting to let Aoi die is normal, but it's just _how_ he did it.

I believe in Akane's trauma now more than in anything else. He needs Aoi to support the trauma, so why talk to her normally? He needs to stupidly get her, so that she would be in his field of vision, in his complete control, that's why he was trying to get her every day. That's why he thinks that they simply need to become a romantic couple, and not just be together as friends, Akane needs to get whole Aoi completely.

But as soon as she suddenly moved away from him more than a hundred meters - he got stuck, he didn't even want to figure it out, Aoi shouldn't leave him. So he grabbed her, said all sorts of things out of anger, because he was tired of himself, tired of watching her, pretending that everything was fine, all his emotions were directed at her, she could really start to irritate him. And he finally pushed her to be his.

Aoi doesn't need to answer Akane that she likes him, he will convince himself of this, the danger has passed, Aoi will not leave him anywhere, and the rest is unimportant. "The Aoi in your head", Teru is right here lol, Akane is the only one playing this game, he literally doesn't need the real Aoi for this, he doesn't need to ask her opinion, he will make it up himself, Aoi is enough to just lie like a doll in his arms. Aoi wanted to leave and so he snapped, didn't let her, but what happened between them won't help them at all, Akane is still feeding this unhealthy need to control Aoi's well-being, Aoi doesn't understand what's going on. I feel sorry for Aoi the most here. As if she is some kind of evil temptress, or a masochist with a crush on her yandere friend, she is maximally intimidated by other people's behavior and confused.

Just as Kou must learn to live and let go of the dead, so Akane must learn to live apart from Aoi. It's a painful topic, he is not ready to let it go, but he should. But instead of moving towards healthy separation, we have 69 with gaslighting (Akane gaslights both Aoi and himself lol). Instead of some therapy, he only feeds his anxiety and the opinion that without it the world will collapse 😭 but wow, it's romantic

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iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid · 1 year ago

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having a really old dog is just repeating the mantra to yourself "i am grateful for the time i've been given and when it comes time to let him go i will do so gracefully. i am grateful for the time i've been given and when it comes time to let wait why are you not pooping normally WHAT IS GOING ON WHY WON'T YOU POOP ARE YOU DYING" and then calling the vet in a panic, being told actually he's fine but give the probiotic some time to do its thing and then let us know if anything changes, and then you take a deep breath and go "cool. yeah. obviously he's fine. anyway. i am grateful for the time i've been given and

#listen i got this dog when he was already 7 years old and i was 22 #never in a million years did i think he'd still be here EIGHT YEARS LATER when i'm THIRTY #tbh after all the shit i've given him for pooping inside he WOULD go out because of some constipation #like ''fine you don't want me to poop inside? i guess i'll never poop again''#which is why i was so worried because this just felt like something that would happen #but the vet literally didn't bat an eye when i called lmao #she was just like ''oh yeah that sounds totally normal''#so this geriatric menace gets to live on #me #dog death cw #not really but talking about like. the inevitability of it #HONESTLY i'm glad i've had so many scares because it's almost like it's bracing me for the real event #not to be. excessively morbid or anything #ANYWAY #DOG IS FINE HE'S JUST HAVING HIS DIGESTIVE SYSTEM RESET

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spotaus · 1 month ago

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New Age au (A Day at Dream's)

Hey y'all! This is another pre-story Drabble, this time from Dream's perspective! Exiled prince doing his best to interact with the populous and do his daily tasks! This was mainly just an attempt from me to get back into writing for this au, and ofc, fleshing out Dream! Hope y'all enjoy!

(Who do I normally tag? @ancha-aus @papiliovolens @mutzelputz I believe? Welcome back y'all!)

The morning was warm, something that Dream had to be grateful for. Ever since the incident, it seemed like he was faced with far more cloudy days than sunny ones, even in the midst of summer. The winters froze so harshly that trees would splinter at the branch, limbs cracking like cannon shots in the nights. The spring was full of awful thunder storms that spewed lightning and wrought floods, and the fall was constantly welcoming wind storms that threw around the rotten remains of plants all about. Even Blue had to admit that the weather was much worse here than his home kingdom, after the first year they’d spent at the very border of Orchard.

Summers were hit and miss, either clinging to the traces of those awful storms, making everything sticky and humid, or beginning the dry season. This morning, as far as Dream could tell, might’ve finally been the start of a dry season. The garden didn’t seem to be swamped, it didn’t seem to be wilted either. The plants always seemed to know when rain was coming, because their leaves would downturn. After so many years, Dream made it a habit to glance out one of the back windows to make sure he knew just what to expect from the day.

Buttoning his over-cloak, he found himself lingering at the window for a second. He knew he’d have to talk with a returning scouting party later in the afternoon, their most survived thus far, but beyond that there wasn’t much else. Go about the camp, see if he could boost morale, maybe get in a training session with Blue…

Speaking of Blue, his loyal knight was seemingly nowhere to be found.

Dream took a moment, crossing the quaint living room of their cabin to squint at the sky. Hmm, already past midday. He had been up rather late last night, night terrors plaguing him as they often did nowadays. He must’ve slept in, Blue had always been an early riser. Up just before the sun, back to bed late in the evening. Dream was pretty sure the only days he hadn’t seen Blue out on a morning jog were those that he asked the other to stick around. For safety, for planning, for breakfast… If he knew Blue well enough, which he liked to think he did, Blue was probably out right about now helping the supply carts unload to the outer tents. They always came in on the 2nd of every month, and the calendar marked it as such. Bless Blue for keeping such good track of affairs.

The prince was practiced as he pulled on his remaining accessories. His archery gloves, which carried up to his elbows, and the thick leather boots gifted to him by a cobbler in the closest village. The boots were durable and comfortable, and while they weren’t the morst appealing at first, Blue had suggested that they find someone to embroider them with Dream’s symbol, the sun. They’d done so, asking one of the refugees they’d taken in if she could, and now they felt much more homey. Of course, it’d been several years now and they were looking worse for wear, but he’d grown a bit sentimental.

These things were his, and he could keep them as long as he liked. No one here cared if they were mud-stained and threadbare in a few places, they were always looking at his face, after all.

The moment they were buckled securely, Dream took the chance to stroll towards the door and push outside.

Just as his plants suggested, the air was warm and dry, something which was deeply familiar to him, and admittedly placed him into a much warmer mood. Especially because, with the good weather, folks had gone about and placed their tapestries outside again. Banners and hanging pieces, all adorned with the shapes of the sun, in bright yellows, striking orange, and even some with that familiar pink accent. Usually, when it rained or snowed, they’d place the expensive and valuable symbols inside for safety, but with the warm air it felt only right that he could once again see his colors flying.

It reminded him why he was doing all this. He had to regain power, to usurp his brother. Free him from whoever was whispering lies into his ears. Be crowned and see his sun in place of the moons which had infected every inch of the capital and many cities beyond. Though, for now, this was good enough. His own little paradise.

The walk int the campsite proper was a little ways out from the cabin, a slightly thinner trail through a thin set of trees. Enough that he could see the camp, but the camp wasn’t directly connected to his little house, he needed his privacy every once in a while.

From even the short walk away he could hear that the camp must’ve been bustling. Warm weather tended to make all of his people more active, it was familiar and welcoming, and rife with time to finish tasks like chores, or playing games, or, even better yet, training. Here there was no dedicated guard like back home, but the militia was very involved in wanting to learn combat, and Blue was certainly a good motivator for them. The clashing of steel and grunting of labored movements was one of several clue-ins that he’d have to stop by the little patch of dirt they used as a training arena of sorts. Off to the side of camp, with a few benches, a shed to store practice weapons, and several targets for aiming practice. Nothing fancy, but certainly enough for these people to learn.

The prince could hardly help himself as he stepped into the camp proper and slipped that way.

Each step passed colorful tents, heavy canvas died different colors by whoever most often occupied them. Some tenets were larger, housing the folks who stayed here as their home, run out of whatever village or city drove them off. Others were smaller, filled with supplies or individual tents for guests, dedicated to their returns.

Dream passed Inl’s tent and smiled to himself in the silence. The inside fo the tent was piled high with half-finished paintings and splattered all over with different pigments. Paint was an expensive commodity, but Ink always seemed to know just how to make the brightest pigments out of the most random objects, plants and rocks and leaves he found on the ground, it was magical. The only thing he’d ever finished when he stayed at the camp for that brief while was the painting which Dream had practically begged him for, a royal portrait, or sorts. Dream sat atop a throne, Blue stood beside him at perfect attention, holding the sun-themed banner. It had been perfect, and it was another of Dream’s prized possessions. After that, Ink hadn’t had the focus to do any of the other paintings he started, but many of them were about tails of Dream’s usurpment, tails of tragedy told to him by the people, made in rough color splashes or with a big chunk of white at a corner where he lost his focus and moved on. Dream had gone inside once to make sure Ink hadn’t left anything behind before he left, but decided it felt lifeless and cold without the artist inside.And besides, Ink could never quite draw Nightmare right. Even though he’d drawn Dream perfectly, and they were identical twins, something always felt off about those pieces.

The brief moment thinking about the artist fled. He was surely off killing some corrupt noble right about now for his own corrupt pay, and it was frankly none of Dream’s business so long as Ink wasn’t after his own people.

His boots carried lightly over the soft grass, trodden down by the constant walking about camp. Light green and pretty, his heels sunk into soft soil beneath like some sort of bog, but it didn’t bother him a bit. If he had his way, the sun would stay out all day and dry up the ground a bit, make it more even and solid. Easier to walk over, less likely to slip into.

To just his luck, only a few people spotted him in passing, waving or calling out to him, and a smile and a wave of recognition was all they needed to move on with their days. His aura must’ve been getting stronger, because he could only taste the ambient contentment from the entire camp as he wandered his way towards his destination.

And, soon enough, it was upon him. That little patch of ground where the sounds had been coming from. Where the magic of monsters and the energy of humans were all alight with passion and focus. It was a wonder they all stayed so committed. Though, Dream had learned fairly quickly that people like these, who worked in farms, or crafts, making their money day to day, would work harder than any other person he’d ever met. Plus, it wasn’t nearly as hard for them to train as others. These very people could wrangle a steer with their bare hands, so all they needed was the fine-tuning and weapon training, none of the strenght building which usually took so long.

That was probably why, now, they were as adept as they were with their weapons. Swords and halberds and morning stars and hammers, all of them clashed with another weapon or a practice dummy. Of course, there were only about 10 people out and about at the moment, but a few others sat on the sidelines.

There was a brief moment where he was simply stood there. Something about combat, the thrill of the sounds and the movements and the force behind each swing, it was all mesmerising to him. He’d always been a natural with long-range weapons, and they were the only ones his mother ever approved of him using. Staying out of the direct line of fire, attacking from far away, that was what would protect his physical body, and his image. If he was struck in a fight, then people would look poorly upon him. Of course, if he’d become King he could’ve done anything. Could’ve learned the sword, or even daggers, and gotten up close and personal. Seen the flurry of emotions fly through his opponents eyes even before he tasted them. No mother to tell him no, no babysitter, nothing. Just him and the battle.

Alas, here he is, still using his arrows, and still not using close-combat weaponry, unlike the training warriors before him. In fact, he was pretty positive he was one of the only people who actually used the arrow range, even if he didn’t need to anymore. Shots were engrained into his mind, muscle memory practically as easy as sleeping. Maybe easier, actually.

Regardless, he found himself forcing his eyelights past the forms of the fighting parties, and instead skimmed for Blue. Dream didn’t want to interact with the merchants today, but he knew Blue’s next stop would most likely be here. He couldn’t ever pass up as great a day as this to practice.

“Prince Dream!” The call for him was loud and excited, and a hot rush of child-like wonder burned through his focus as he stood waiting.

His eyelights shot over, catching sight of a monster he knew should be familiar to him. There very very few people who brought their little ones to the camp, for safety reasons mostly, and those who did often had very subdued children, ones who rarely spoke or played or caused trouble. This child was entirely different. Dream always knew they were nearby, because children’s emotions were far more potent. Adult emotions felt like a warm bath, while children’s joy, for example, was like someone had splashed hot tea onto his lap. Not painful, but far more striking.

The tyke who rushed towards him now was giggling in high-pitched squeals and stared at him with two bright orange eyelights, beig and round. He was a little skeleton, maybe four, who had white bones with splotches of a greyish hue splattered across his face and hands. Today he was wearing a little white and yellow tunic which had obviously taken some falls into the grass since he put it on that morning.

“Copper, what did we say about running with the practice blade?” Another voice called out, this one deeper and far more familiar to Dream.

The little one, who Dream now spotted was carrying a dulled wooden dagger in one of his clumsy hands, bolted past Dream’s legs, only to pivot and rush in circles around him with an energy unmatched and giggles that were unrivaled in joy. HE was obviously getting enjoyment out of causing mischief for his guardian.

Dream’s gaze traveled away from Copper with his smile in-tact, not getting a look at the adult whom he knew he knew. Eclipse, one of Copper’s two parents. He was also a skeleton, older than Dream by at least a decade, and much taller with broader shoulders. His bones were a perfect white, his face a bit long, and his eyelights a simple white. He was wearing a tunic not unlike his son, but adorned with all sorts of belts and a heavy fur wrapped around his shoulders despite the heat. It was a dark brown, his partner’s prized pelt.

Of course, he should’ve expected to see Eclipse sometime today. He’d been eagerly awaiting his partner’s return from the mission. They’d be back tonight.

“Eclipse, how have you been?” Dream asked courteously, drawing his eyes back to Copper with a plan rapidly forming.

Eclipse came to a halt beside him, at least an arm’s length away, and sighed a fond sigh. “I am faring well, all considered. Since Ichor went off for this mission, Copper’s been insisting that he has to learn to fight so he can protect us.” Eclipse said. “I apologize for his antics, he’s insisted that he start training right away.”

Eclipse sounded humored, but Dream could feel the tiredness seeping from his shoulders. A tension that was surely weighing on him. For a moment, it had entirely slipped his mind, but a glance confirmed his suspicion. Ichor and Eclipse had been away from camp fro a few weeks, about four months back. They’d had a soulling, and now it sat bundled in Eclipse’s arms, quiet and content, probably sleeping. Something warmed Dream’s heart, knowing that this little skelton was under the impression that he could defend his father and little sibling.

Dream chuckled under his breath and gave a genuine grin, letting a small burst of positivity wave away from his core, pushing back a bit of Eclipse’s worry along with it.

“No need to be sorry, I was eager to train when I was young too.” Dream confided, but before Eclipse could give a response, Dream crouched and shot his arms out, catching Copper under the arms and practically tossing him up into the air. He was obviously taken by surprise, because he shrieked with glee and stared at Dream with his big eyelights and the biggest smile. He looked a lot like his other parent, Dream realized.

Copper giggled and Dream held him aloft. Copper hardly weighed anything, and it was a little cute how he kicked his muddy little boots in the open air as Dream held him aloft. He was entirely unbothered by his capture, and the energy obviously had yet to fade.

“So, you want to be big and strong to protect your father and little sibling?” Dream asked to Copper, making a mock serious face, obviously exaggerated and playful.

Copper gasped and nodded rapidly, excitedly brandishing his little wooden dagger. “Papa gave me dis! I stab any bad guys!” He insisted excitedly, swishing it around wildly in his little hand, arm limited to his side by the way Dream was holding him.

Now this was an excited little fellow. Very cute and lively. Dream wondered if he ad this much energy, rushing ahead of his twin to get out into the courtyard and run around, climb the trees when their babysitter wasn’t looking. Nightmare sometimes wrestled with him, he missed those days.

“Well, I thin you have the makings to be a brave warrior!” Dream encouraged, Copper wriggling happily in his grip, “Just remember, your papa and father want to keep you safe too, so listen to them, alright? That’s how you can get to be just as strong as them.”

This was met by Copper’s nodding yet again, “So, don’t go running with that dangerous blade, alright? You might accidentally stab a not-bad guy.” Dream added, to which Copper gasped.

The little boy pulled one of his hands to cover up his mouth with wide eyes, shaking his head vigorously. “I won’t stab a not-bad guy! Only bad bad guys!” He insisted.

Dream just shook his head and tutted, “I know, I know, but accidents happen! My friend Ink, he fights with knives sometimes, and he tripped and almost stabbed someone right in the eye once!” Dream exclaimed, and closed his right socket dramatically.

This seemed to make Copper hold back a growing smile, and instead his expression was something almost close to a pout. His best attempt at a serious face, Dream had to imagine. Copper nodded one singular, forceful, nod this time. Some sort fo silent pledge not to run with his dagger anymore.

Dream smiled at him, “Good, good! First step to becoming a strong warrior, listen to your parents.” he insisted, before lowering Copper down with a smooth motion.

The kid giggled again as Dream rustled the top of his skull, and Copper made careful steps towards his dad, an obvious attempt at suddenly being responsible with the harmless wooden blade. Dream was a little proud, usually he did much worse with kids, had to resort to his magic. Maybe Blue was rubbing off on him after all.

“You really are a miracle-worker, my Prince.” Eclipse said softly, reaching one of his own hands down to gently caress the top of Copper’s skull. He nuzzled into his father’s leg and hugged it, attention distracted by watching the other fight not far off from them.

Dream didn’t deny it, and instead just slunk a bit closer. He peered down at the babybones wrapped in Eclipse’s arm, held snug in place by a sling. It was pearly white just like its brother, but had a slightly longer face with pronounced cheekbones. Dream couldn’t help but notice the tension return to Eclipse’s emotions.

“What’s their name, have you two decided yet? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to check in with you sooner.” Dream asked.

Eclipse seemed unbothered when Dream lifted a hand and gently brushed it against the babybone’s skull. It didn’t stir, didn’t even seem to register the contact.

“His name is Steel.” Eclipse answered softly, “I told Ichor we wouldn’t be naming any more after metal alloys, but I can never say no to him. Steel’s eyelights are a beautiful shade of metallic silver, it was just too fitting.” Eclipse muttered. “And please, don’t trouble yourself with it. We are well aware of how busy you have been.”

Eclipse gently bounced his arm a bit, and the babybones curled a bit closer to his chest, burying into the fur cloak draped over Eclipse’s shoulders. He seemed a bit more at ease as the little one gave a little smile in his sleep.

“Handsome name, Ichor has good taste I’m afraid.” Dream teased, eliciting a smale laugh from Eclipse.

“Do you think he’ll make it home safe, my prince?” Eclipse suddenly asked.

Dream blinked in surprise, looking up to Eclipse. The other skeleton still had his eyes on the babybones tucked against his chest, but Dream had a feeling he was being watched nonetheless.

“You mean Ichor?” He asked, and to a hum of confirmation, he tilted his head with a grin, “I’m sure he’ll come home safe and sound. Blue’s been sure to send him on non-combat missions, and with plenty of back-up and supplies. We both know that he has a family waiting for him here, we wouldn’t send him anywhere dangerous.”

That was a lie. Dream didn’t have any qualms about it. He just knew it was a lie. Every mission was dangerous, could turn to combat, and might end in death. Every person here, as much as Blue tried to deny, was expendable. They were part of a cause, they had to be. Of course, Dream would never put children in danger, but Ichor, just like every other person here, came willingly looking to help. He volunteered his family for this willingly.

Of course, that isn’t what people like to hear. So, he’ll tell him things he’s heard Blue say. Blue was so kind-hearted, a softie. The moment he heard Ichor and Eclipse were having another soulling he’d re-assigned all their missions and work, and even after they’d both recovered, after Ichor was no longer carrying, he sent the guy on the easier missions. Blue didn’t want to split a family.

Eclipse sighed, almost with relief, at Dream’s words. “Thank you, my Prince. I suppose I’m just worried over nothing. I’ve been known to do such silly things.” Eclipse relented, and smiled. It was tired, but much happier than before. Dream’s aura must’ve finally gotten to him. Broken down those worries.

“Anytime, Eclipse. I suppose I’ll see you at their return tonight?” Dream voiced, though he knew the answer. Of course he’d be there.

Eclipse only took a few more moments, wishing Dream a good rest of the day, before he ushered his son foreward and off elsewhere. Dream waved goodbye to them until they passed a corner, and he internally sighed in relief as he turned back to his original goal.

Dream moved closer by a few paces and plopped himself down onto one of the benches, one side left empty by someone who had just rushed onto the field. He summoned his bow to his hands and fiddled with the string, and ill-disguised attempt at seeming busy as he just watched the proceeding spars.

So many people stopped him daily around camp, often simply wanting to chat and catch up on their lives. Eclipse’s new babybones was, thankfully, the most exciting piece of news in the last few months, but before that was a wedding between a bunny monster and a hare monster, before that was the death of someone’s spouse and a subsequent burial, before that siblings reunited, they all had their own stories and things to keep track of. Dream found it trivial, but unfortunately, everyone expected him to now these things, remember them, keep track and ask when they met outside of business times. If he wanted these people to stay, he needed to know.

His only grace was that Blue was very talented in chatting. Where Dream could rouse crowds and battalions, Blue thrived in a setting of just one or two, and somehow knew just about everything about everyone. They’d talk over dinner, about what they did while split up doing their duties. Dream would tell him about the state of the garden, or the new map he managed to draw up with the cartographer, while blue would tell him all the latest menial news. Crushes, holiday plans, when new people were coming in, all of it. He was always so happy, that Dream simply learned to remember it through him. Shockingly an easy feat.

The clanging of swords and the heat were both a welcome comfort, Dream was soaking in the sun like some sort of lizard on its rock.

Dream just hoped he wouldn’t eat his words later. Blue had sent ichor and a few others on a mission to simply attend the latest ball, and annual celebration for one of his brother’s elite knights. The Criminal, he thought, the one with the tiger mask. Killer. The parties hadn’t had conflict in the four years they’d been running, and Dream was pretty sure ichor wouldn’t go missing. Yet, anyone they sent directly to the capital had a habit of not returning. Blue had forbade him from sending more spies that way, and had only agreed to send a small party because the ball was meant to be open to the public, so they wouldn’t be technically intruding or trespassing. Along with that, Ichor wasn’t directly affiliated with their cause. Eclipse, up until now, was usually the one more familiar with intel-work. Ichor had always been more focused on welfare and support. So, Ichor couldn’t be recognized. ‘

Dream would just have a lot of explaining to do if his promise went awry. Grieving souls were never easy, especially those who had children in tow. They often loved the hardest, and fell shortly after their beloved. Frankly, Dream didn’t want to lose two promising members of the rebellion, or be left with their children in the worst case scenario.

The prince sighed to himself. Blue would scold him for thinking like this. Maybe he should worry less about the return party and more about his own training. He couldn’t risk getting rusty now.

- -

Dream was aware the range was a bit out of his sight from where he’d wandered off to get a drink of water, but when he returned, he hadn’t expected to find an arrow embed itself into the block he was passing beside.

He jumped a bit with the force of the heavy thunk and almost choked on his own breath when he spotted exactly who was actually training with a bow of all things.

Across the range, looking wide-eyed and surprised, was Blue! He had their heavy long-bow clutched in his right hand, an arrow hanging to his side y his left, and a whole slew of arrows leaned against the fence behind him, the kind with thin, piercing points that could tear through armor. Dream had never been more baffled, amused, and amazed all in one. Why was Blue training archery?

“Dream! Hey!” Blue called out, and he sounded a bit awkward.

Dream took a moment to examine the arrow which had pieced the block of hay they were using as a target. It had entirely missed the circle, actually passing itself at an odd angle through he side, the point poking out from the other end haphazardly. That must’ve used a lot of force if nothing else.

Actually, it seemed Blue might’s been making some progress. Dream had been gone for almost half an hour, caught up in talk with one of the new refugees, welcoming them to the camp. That had given his knight plenty of time to try more than enough shots. Dream spotted now the several arrows which had dug themselves into the dirt, all at a downward falling angle as through Blue had been aiming for the dirt. Then, beyond the hay bale, he could see that several trees in the woods beyond had arrows embedded in them. He didn’t know how he’d missed them, honestly.

Dream circled back and gripped one which had dug into a pine tree’s skinny trunk, and tugged with all his might. He nearly stumbled, and the end of the arrow seemed to have sap coating it, like blood of the tree itself.

Dream actually laughed as he finally approached his knight, the arrow in-hand.

“If you wanted syrup so badly, we could’ve asked for some on the resupply.” Dream joked.

He tapped the shaft of the arrow to the top of Blue’s skull, and the knight sheepishly ducked away from the sticky feeling, the arrow moving with him for a moment before springing away. Blue’s eyelights didn’t evade Dream’s, but Dream couldn’t help but notice the embarrassment becoming far more potent from his friend.

“Ah, yes, you see…” Blue started, before pausing, “I had no intention of harming the flora.” Blue said, though it seemed a bit half-hearted.

Blue rubbed at his skull as he lowered the long-bow from his front, down to his side. It was a huge weapon, with a string practically made of metal. Dream didn’t usually bother with the long-bows, sticking to the normal bows, or in desperate situations, crossbows. It took way too much power to shoot a longbow for his liking, limited movement. Usually people on horses used them. Dream couldn’t see the light leave someone’s eye from atop a finicky horse.

“It was a good shot, even if you didn’t mean to hit the poor tree, Blue.” Dream amended. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Blue, it was obvious the mood was tanking with Dream’s ill-timed jokes. “Can I ask why you’re trying out the long-bow today?”

The feeling of Blue’s pride washing over Dream like a comforting blanket as the other seemed to get a second wind. He puffed his chest and lifted the bow right in front of him again.

“The Magnificent Blue has actually been learning to shoot for some time! The smaller ones that you use are not very cooperative, but this large one does well!” The explained proudly, “It was meant to be a surprise, but I would not lie to you!”

He seemed largely unbothered by the fact that this secret of his had just been broken wide open. Though, Dream had to imagine this had been going on for a while now. The last time Dream had seen Blue attempt to shoot an arrow, it had narrowly avoided breaking their window in the back garden. They still had a notch in the wall on the back porch, because Dream begged Blue not to fill it in. He’d laughed so hard, and back then he’d needed a good-

“Wait, why was it going to be a surprise?” Dream asked curiously, raising a brow to watch Blue.

The knight laughed loudly, “Because! The plan was to get very very good at it, and then join you for a practice one day and show you! I know you are very talented with lond-range weapons, and if I were too, then I could fight beside you without placing you in danger! You mentioned it once, a while back.” Blue explained as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Dream felt a little something in his chest shift to the left as he processed what Blue was referencing. He had mentioned that. Back when they had to scare off some bandits during their trip here, before they found the cottage. He wished Blue hadn’t had to charge in while Dream sat up in a tree and shot at them. Dream had wanted to be in the fray, but… Blue thought he wanted them both to be long range fighters? So they could stay close?

That was up there with some of the most heartwarming things Blue had ever done for Dream. Trust him, there were a LOT of heartwarming things Blue had done. This was surely, however, in the top 15.

“Oh, that’s kind of you.” Dream said gently,

In his distraction, Blue had knocked another arrow and lifted it up. Lined it. Drew the string back. Released.

The heavy string cut through the air with a vocal slapping noise, and both skeletons watched idly as the arrow arced through the air and just hardly skimmed the top of the hay bail, chunking into the ground somewhere behind it instead. There was a moment of Blue letting out a breath and calmly lowering the bow before he grinned again at Dream. His expression was so concentrated not two moments before.

“You know that I would do anything for you, Dream. Besides, using a bow is rather fun! I was unaware of how careful you have to be while firing, and setting it up, and aiming.” He listed off with a laugh.

Now the bow was back at Blue’s side, and Dream was even a bit impressed with his bow etiquette. It wasn’t pressed to the first at his side, he wasn’t fidgeting and bending it, even his motions before he hadn’t dared to dryfire with it. He wondered if Blue had picked it up from him, or if he’d sought out advice from another bowman somewhere. Either way.

“I never meant to discourage you from using your hammer, Blue. I know you’re the happiest while fighting with it.” Dream said earnestly, “But if you wish to continue working with the long-bow, I’m sure I could give you a few pointers.”

At the enthused expression he received from his knight, Dream grinned, “And then maybe you could teach me to use a hammer. Or, maybe a morning star? They always seemed to have a fitting name.” Dream teased, but Blue seemed even more delighted by the thought.

“That sounds great! We should start now!” Blue agreed, and readied his bow again.

Dream was a bit startled, but couldn’t bring himself to deny the enthusiasm. After all, he’d been hoping to train with Blue today anyways.

He watched again as Blue lined up his shot, but this time, he actually watched carefully. He moved behind Blue, and immediately saw a smidge of problem.

“Here, lift your elbow a bit higher.” He instructed, He stepped forward and set his hand under Blue’d elbow, the one which was pulling his arrow back. He shifted under the touch and stopped right where Dream stopped nudging. Immediately his posture looked a lot better, and his aim seemed more sure.

“Try pointing a bit further to the right, you’re leaning left.” He added on, and saw Blue squint a bit harder at his target, before repositioning his aim, shifting his feet along with it before Dream could say anything.

Then, when Dream gave the commend to release, Blue sent the arrow flying.

This time, it whistled as it shot and struck the bail right at the top ring of the target, almost dead center. Blue whooped an excitement, and Dream hummed. He could’ve sworn that would’ve hit the bullseye…

Without much through, Dream summoned his own bow and took aim from Blue’s side. His night went quiet, watching intently, and Dream let loose his arrow with less than half the preparation time, hardly a thought. Just as he’d expected of Blue’s, the arrow pierced the center of the ring flawlessly, though it didn’t sink in nearly as deep. His brow furrowed as the stared at the target. Why hadn’t Blue’s shot done that?

Sure, the bow was heavier, the arrow too, but the fundamentals should’ve been the same. The golden arrow and landed below the other one, why was that?

“Dream?” Blue’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Dream blinked at Blue, and Blue stared back at him, seeming mildly worried.

“My apologies, could you try hitting my arrow? I’ll spot you again.” Dream requested, and Blue just nodded and prepared himself again.

This time, Blue automatically placed his elbow up and turned himself to the right. Dream didn’t even need to do more than a little nudge to his arm to encourage a slight but more movement to the right. Blue should strike this perfectly.

The arrow flew, beautifully with a bit of a spin, and… Lodged a few inches to the left of the target. He was aiming right! How-

Ohhhhhh.

“That was great, Blue! You had everything but an extra set of eyes to direct you, good work!” Dream praised.

Now Blue celebrated properly, wrapping his arms around Dream’s sides in a heavy hug. A familiar one that Dream returned, as he realized how silly he had been for a moment. His arrows weren’t affected by the wind. Blue’s weren’t magic, so of course the air would throw them off course! For a brief, horrifying, moment he worried he’d somehow stumbled in his directions. It was just the wind.

Blue's hug was tight and affectionate, and very very welcome. Dream savored it, returning it tightly, until Blue released him and raised the bow once more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to train until the caravan arrived in a few hours.

- -

Poor choices. He didn’t make many, but he wasn’t going to try and claim that training right up until the arrival was a good call. All he was expected to do was welcome them back, and then listen toIchor recount any important information they’d picked up on, but still. He didn’t enjoy being all grimy and sweaty and middy was the best look or the most comfortable. His only solace was that Blue was equally messay, so he didn’t feel too out of place.

Ask they approached the path into camp, they saw that the light of a lantern was glowing just a bit down the way, and there alone the road stood the sentinels for the night, and Eclipse.

Eclipse still wore that same tunic as before, though it had gained a grass stain along the bottom hem, no doubt from Copper breaking off at a full sprint at some point during the day. The skeleton himself was without his children, and when Blue greeted him and asked, it turned out he’d left them with someone named Jodie. One of the humans, he believed, a kind elderly woman here with her adult son. Eclipse looked exhausted, but Dream could tell is must’ve been from building worry. Nim help him and make sure that Ichor returns on that cart in one piece.

They stood there together in the quiet, and when the carriage pulled to a stop before them, Dream counted as each person hopped off and stood at attention before himself and Blue. One, two, three, for, five, six, seven… Eight. Ichor must’ve been looking to give his partner a soul-attack, because he was the last of the party to jump off the back of the cart, a thick bag slung over his back and his grin wide and stupid as ever.

Dream acted like he didn’t notice as Eclipse bowled into Ichor’s side, nearly tripping the both of them over and into the grass. Technically, procedure was that Dream would be the first to hear any of them speak, as they could’ve been keeping secrets. However, he knew better than to get between lover birds. That was more of a headache than it was worth.

Only when the two were done and Eclipse gave Ichor a swift peck on the forehead did Dream usher everyone into the debriefing tent to discuss their findings.

“You’re saying he’s bringing in new knights?” Dream questioned.

Everyone had been explaining their stories, but it seemed that Ichor had managed to get the closest. Hear the most. A servant had tripped over him and spilled a red wine on his suit, so he followed them back to the servants halls to get it cleaned up. Because he was so amicable, the maids weren’t very quiet and told him exciting news. Two more knights being trained.

Ichor had asked more, as much as he dared, but all he could get was that one of them was straight out of the dungeon, and the other one was burly and definitely a foreigner. Some sort of hired body, they swore. It’d be fall when the next party was rumored to be happening.

Dream hated to hear such a thing. The first criminal was enough, but this second one? And then another? Dream couldn’t fathom what sorts of horrible plans were being fed into his twin’s mind, what horrid plans they were going to enact, criminals and thugs running the country by his brother’s side?

He sighed a bit, resting a hand against his chin.

“Did you see my twin at all?” He asked then, to the group.

Ichor was the only one to nod, and Dream gestured to him.

“The guy was just as guarded as ya said. The Tiger kept circling back up to the balcony where he was hanging, but the stairs were all blocked off by guards, and some other folks were sitting up there with him. Magic on one of ‘em was strong.” Ichor explained, and Dream squinted as the torchlight glinted off of the skeleton’s single gold tooth. Now his pelt had been returned to him, and he looked perfectly barbaric, like the first day Dream had seen him.

“Mm, unfortunate. My brother is smart, he wouldn’t spare any detail in his protection, I suppose.” Dream muttered, before simply nodding. “Thank you, all. I’m sure you’ve had a tiring past few nights. Go to your tents and rest up, I’ll call upon you if I need to speak with you again sometime later in the week.”

He didn’t really want to dismiss them, but it was obvious half of them had gotten drunk off their asses within the first five minutes of being at the party. Ichor was really the only one with any good information, and even then, it was extremely limited. Of course, Dream had to be grateful that Nightmare must’ve been slipping with controlling the tittering tongues of his servants, it saved him the trouble of having to wait any longer for information.

Nightmare adding new, dangerous, knights was not ideal,

He watched as the party slowly filtered out, some stumbling, some half-awake, and even Ichor yawning as he ducked out of the tent. The only one who didn’t immediately flee was Blue, who sat for a few minutes longer before popping to his feet, gathering the notes strewn across the table, and helping Dream to his feet.

Together, they left the tent and moved back to the cottage. By now it was far into the night, and Dream could see the stars out. The moon, a thin crescent, seemed to mock him as he took careful steps in the darkness of the path. At least he’d gotten to enjoy the remaining sun the day had gifted him.

When they entered the cottage, Dream groaned and moved immediately for the couch. He could try to sleep, but he knew Blue still had to do his nightly routine, and he wouldn't be able to rest with the new information that had been provided.

“We’ll figure it out.” Blue said unprompted from across the main room.

His friend was organizing the papers from tonight into a nice little box where they kept all the notes for their plans, and when he placed it back on the shelf, he moved over to the dummy in the corner of the room where he always hung his armor. Every night.

“I know we will, it’s just…” Ough, he couldn’t say it! This was so infuriating! Every scout who managed to come back only brought him worse and worse news.

“Do you know, or are you just saying that? Because I know that I know we can figure this out! Two monsters can’t make the difference in a coup!” Blue stated matter-of-factly as he undid the buckles on his chest plate and lifted it up onto its rightful spot. Next followed the boots and Dream watched him. The prince was practically deflated on the cushions of the old couch, a pillow quickly tugged into this arms.

He was right. Dream knew it, he usually was after all. Still. It wasn’t the fighting that worried him. No, he and Blue alone could probably beat up whatever petty criminals were cabhorting with his twin. It was just…

“I do. I just- I- I don’t know how my twin could be so stupid!” He exclaimed, practically burying his skull into the pillow, bringing his knees up to his chest, practically curling into a ball. “He was meant to be my advisor, he was the clever one. How could he resort to killers and hired mercenaries. After all those classes he used to tell me about, all the lessons he had to go to, how could he decide to take this path?” He said, hoping his voice was muffled by the cushion.

Unfortunately, like most items in this cottage, it seemed to be cheap and only decorative. No muffling capabilities in sight. He heard Blue sigh, and for a few minutes, the only noise was Blue removing the rest of his armor.

When it faded, he strained to listen, and caught the floorboards creaking ever so gently under the weight of his friend’s approach. Then there was a pause, and then a weight on Dream’s skull. It trailed heavily down his neck and to his shoulders, before repeating itself. A soothing motion, one that Dream resisted for a moment.

“I never got to meet him, but I do know you! I think we can definitely knock some sense back into him.” Blue reassured him, and this time Dream listened.

Blue was right, after all. Blue had been able to knock sense into Dream. If anyone could bring Nightmare back to his senses, it would be Blue.

He let the skeleton keep doing that comforting motion against his skull for a few more minutes, savoring the contact, before he sighed heavily and shrugged. Blue retracted his hand, and was watching Dream with a soft smile when the prince finally lifted his head. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before Dream smiled back.

They both really needed to get some rest.

#new age au #dude inclusion of old docs into the new story??? crazyyyy #Eclipse and Ichor are long-standing ocs and in most aus Eclipse Copper Steel and their other kid Rose Gold are all dead sooo. happy time fo #them here!! Ichor is a goofball but actually the more responsible one. Eclipse would scale a tower for fun if he had the chance.#Here they actually get to be a happy couple. And tbh I don't think Dream would know either of their names if it wasn't for Copper #he has a soft-spot for kids even if he's awful with them half the time-#OH! And Dream! He's still in his jaded era #but he's getting better! I feel like I need to stress that Dream is full of love and whimsy and care but. he doesn't know how #to express any of it through normal means. he needs to relearn how to express his care. Blue is helping him! This is not a #smoker downer hurt by the world Dream! He's just been gaslight and girl bossed all his life lmao #I hope his oblivious gay tones are shining through too btw. old habits die hard and he is NOT subtle #the scene with the arrow training? Everyone else can see them being cute and flirting but they're so so oblivious #everyone is betting on whether or not they kiss. they never do. Everyone knows except for them #And!! last thing I think? just like Dream Blue has a persona he puts on when he's out and about. It's not as drastic as Dream's because he #has fewer worries and stressors but he plays up his knight role visually when around others while when they're alone it turns into #the devotion and quiet chivalry that you see at the end. He also risks talking back to Dream more obviously in private. because Dream doesn #mind at all and they're as close to friends as Dream's ever had and closer friends than Blue had ever had #Okay I'm done now. Gonna go sketch Fresh now so that I can answer an ask lingering in my ask box that I love but didn't have time to get to

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godsfavoritescientist · 2 years ago

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Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.

I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.

Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?

How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"

And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.

So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.

So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.

And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.

And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.

Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.

And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.

So you sail away in a boat together.

And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.

But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.

But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.

You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.

And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-

-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.

You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.

And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.

It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.

And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.

#succumbed to the stan twins angst visions and wrote 2000 words about this #ford pines #ford meta #this turned into a character analysis that almost reads like a fic #godswriting #<- i need to change my writing tag to this #something bothers me a little bit about the solution to their conflict being 'ford appreciates stan more now so he is now fine with-#-boat adventures with stan'. to me it leaves the initial conflict of 'he doesnt want to do that anymore' unresolved #obviously you could easily argue that ford never stopped wanting to go on boat adventures with stan and he just couldnt justify it to-#-himself when compared to the opportunity at west coast tech. but that has one less layer of conflict #compared to the possibility that he truly was not interested in boat adventures anymore. ESPECIALLY if its a manifestation of him #feeling suffocated by the whole dynamic-twins-duo thing #its normal to start wanting a little bit more space especially at that age. to want to have space to figure out who you are #the healthy thing would have been them talking about it and figuring out a compromise. like 'when ford needs space he can spend a few hours #-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and #-we still chat on the way to and from school every day and hang out at the beach on weekends'#like of fucking course it was never about hating stan or about wanting to get away from him because of who he is as a person!#he literally just wanted to have a little bit of breathing room to be his own separate person. he just didn't know how to put it into words #I really think the crux of it all was them not knowing how to navigate that balance between independence and identity while staying close #so ford misattributing/reducing that feeling to 'I dont have the exact same dream as stan anymore. why does he still have that dream. oh no #feels like a good way of giving that conflict a tangible aspect to it thats easy for the stans to point at and talk about as a way of-#-alluding to the REAL core of the conflict between them.#and of course the show never says 'they sail around the world for the rest of their lives 24/7' so it's not like it Actually Conflicts with #-my interpretation of the conflict and how it should be resolved. but since its the last thing we see happen between them when theyre given #their happy ending. I feel compelled to say 'hey I know them living in the shack together and traveling in a boat every single year sounds-#-really fun and like a satisfying ending but I think they should have a Little Bit more space from eachother than that. Hanging out almost-#-daily but not literally being in the same house and same boat for the rest of their lives. bc if stan was ok with ford asking for that-#-little bit of space and if ford didnt panic and isolate himself from everyone whenever he needs like one hour of alone time? that would-#-feel like a big piece of the puzzle fitting into place for their conflict resolution and growth as characters. to me #and I think they deserve to have all the tied-up-loose-ends and resolved-conflicts and character-growth in the world.

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