#but now it's sapped my energy for everything else

[spiritualviolation]

.

[a-story-teller]

I was in a major car accident yesterday (got t-boned) and was very luckily a) alone in the car, as the passenger side got walloped and b) not injured. However I took care of everything and then went home and proceeded to sleep for 19 out of the following 24 hours.

[theonottsbxtch]

THE COME DOWN PT 2 | LN4

an: i'd like to preface this by saying this is not everyone's cup of tea and warn you ahead of time this faces the topic of substance abuse and overdose, so if you're not comfy reading this, step back now! if you or anyone you know needs help, please feel free to talk to me or here are links for who to talk to: united kingdom, united states, canada, europe. these are some of the links i've found, if you need help searching for one, my inbox is always open!

wc: 3.8k

warnings: substance abuse, overdose and mentions of death

part one

The flat was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old pipes and the distant hum of traffic outside. She sat cross-legged on Oscar’s bed, wearing one of his oversized hoodies that smelled faintly of cedar and something else distinctly him. Her bag sat untouched in the corner; she hadn’t bothered unpacking, too afraid that settling in even slightly would mean acknowledging the enormity of what she’d done. Leaving Lando. Leaving everything behind.

Oscar was in the kitchen. She could hear the clatter of mugs and the low hiss of the kettle as he made tea, always keeping his hands busy to avoid saying too much. He had a way of filling silence that was considerate, like he understood she needed time and space but couldn’t leave her to drown in her thoughts.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She ignored it. It wasn’t as though anyone important would be calling her, and she couldn’t stomach the idea of hearing Lando’s voice, slurred or otherwise. The last time still replayed in her mind, a cacophony of anger, confusion, and shame. She pulled the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands and pressed her fists to her temples, willing the memory away.

Oscar appeared in the doorway, balancing two steaming mugs. His face was a study in quiet concern, his dark eyes scanning her as though trying to decipher what she wasn’t saying.

“Chamomile,” he said, setting a mug on the bedside table. “It’s good for relaxing. Not that I think you need it,” he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck. “But, you know, just in case.”

She offered him a small smile. “Thanks, Osc.”

He stood there for a moment, uncertain, before finally retreating to the sofa in the other room. He hadn’t asked her why exactly she called him three nights ago looking like a ghost of herself. He didn’t need to. Oscar had always been like that—a safe harbour. Dependable. Steady. A friend.

She leaned back against the pillows, clutching the mug in her hands and letting the warmth seep into her fingers. The flat was so different from Lando’s. No art on the walls, no clutter, no hint of chaos or indulgence. It was simple and unpretentious, much like Oscar himself. For the first time in what felt like years, she felt like she could breathe.

But the guilt lingered, gnawing at her. She’d left Lando. Not just walked out, but abandoned him when he was at his lowest. The memory of his eyes, wide and red-rimmed, flashed through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to cry again. Not now.

The days at Oscar’s flat passed in a blur of silence and borrowed familiarity. She didn’t do much—couldn’t, really. Her thoughts were too loud, her energy sapped by the constant cycle of guilt, anger, and self-recrimination. Most of her time was spent curled up in Oscar’s bed, surrounded by the faint smell of his laundry detergent, trying not to think too hard about anything. It was a losing battle.

Oscar gave her space, which she appreciated. He didn’t hover or press her for answers, but he was always there, lingering at the edges of her solitude, ready if she needed him. Sometimes she found him at the small dining table in the corner of the living room, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other.

Tonight was one of those nights. She wandered out of his room with the cup of tea he’d given her. He glanced up when she padded into the living room but didn’t say anything, just offered a small, welcoming smile before returning to his book. She sat down opposite him, curling her legs beneath her, and watched him in the soft glow of the table lamp.

The book must have been gripping because his brow furrowed slightly, and he turned the pages with an almost reverent care. She noticed the way his fingers brushed the edges, like he didn’t want to crease them. She hadn’t seen him this still in years. But then again, she rarely ever saw Oscar now.

“Good book?” she asked eventually, her voice breaking the comfortable quiet.

He looked up, startled for a second, before the smile returned. “Yeah. Bit dense, though. I’m not sure I actually understand half of it.”

She huffed a small laugh, the first real one in days, and it surprised her. He noticed, too. For a moment, he just looked at her, like he wanted to say something, but then he shook his head and glanced back at the page.

The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t oppressive. She stared at the mug in her hands and her mind wandered—back to Lando, inevitably. To his voice, slurred and sharp; to the way he used to be, before everything went wrong. She wondered if he’d even noticed she was gone.

Oscar’s voice cut through the fog of her thoughts. “You don’t have to stay cooped up in there, you know.”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“In the bedroom,” he said, nodding towards the closed door behind her. “You’re welcome out here, anytime. Even if it’s just to sit.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks.”

They sat together like that for a while longer, him reading and her lost in thought. It was strange how easy it was to be with Oscar, even with all the mess she’d brought into his life. She wanted to thank him, to say something to convey just how much it meant that he’d opened his door to her without question. But the words felt too heavy, so she stayed quiet.

Later, when the weight of the day became too much, she retreated to his bed again. She pulled the covers up to her chin, staring at the ceiling, but sleep didn’t come easily. She kept seeing Lando’s face, hearing his voice. Over and over, the same thought clawed at her—I left him.

The phone call came in the early hours of the morning, jolting her awake. She fumbled for the phone on the bedside table, her heart already racing as she answered it.

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end was barely a whisper, but she recognised it instantly.

“It’s me,” Lando said, his voice cracking.

Her stomach twisted. “Lando? What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he mumbled, his words slurring together. Then the line went silent.

“Lando?” she said, louder this time, her voice thick with fear. “Lando, are you there?”

Nothing.

She sat up, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing. She knew something was wrong. Her body knew it before her mind caught up. She stumbled out of bed and into the living room, where Oscar was sprawled on the sofa, asleep under a thin blanket. She shook him awake, her urgency spilling over.

“Osc, wake up,” she said, her voice shaking.

He groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Lando. I think something’s happened. We need to go. Now.”

Oscar blinked himself awake, shaking off the haze of sleep as he sat up on the sofa. The urgency in her voice jolted him fully alert. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice low but sharp with concern.

“It’s Lando,” she said, pacing in frantic, uneven steps across the room. Her hands were shaking. “He called me, and something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but we have to go. Now, Osc. Please.”

Oscar frowned, running a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Wait, slow down. What did he say?”

“He didn’t—he barely said anything. But I know him. Something’s wrong.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she stopped pacing, fixing him with a desperate look. “Please, Osc. We can’t waste time.”

He didn’t ask any more questions. He grabbed his keys from the table and pulled on his jacket. “Let’s go.”

The drive was a blur of adrenaline and recklessness. Oscar’s McLaren roared through the city streets, the tyres screeching as he ignored red lights and zipped through gaps in traffic that barely existed. She sat rigid in the passenger seat, clutching the edge of the seat with white-knuckled hands, her eyes fixed on the road ahead as though willing them to go faster.

“What’s his flat number again?” Oscar asked, his voice tight.

“Four. Top floor.”

When they reached the building, she was out of the car before he’d even fully stopped. She tore up the stairs two at a time, her breath coming in gasps, the blood pounding in her ears. Oscar was right behind her, keeping pace as she reached the fourth floor and darted to Lando’s door. She banged on it with both fists.

“Lando!” she shouted, her voice echoing down the empty hallway. “Open the door! It’s me!”

Nothing.

“Lando!” She banged harder, the sound reverberating through her skull. The silence on the other side of the door was deafening.

Oscar caught her arm gently, his expression grim. “Move,” he said.

Before she could argue, he planted a foot against the doorframe and slammed his shoulder into the wood. The first hit made it shudder; the second sent it crashing open.

The smell hit them first—a sharp, acrid scent that made her stomach turn. She rushed inside, her eyes darting around the dimly lit flat. “Lando?”

The bathroom door was ajar, and she spotted his legs sprawled on the tiled floor. Her heart stopped. “Oh, God.”

She ran to him, dropping to her knees beside his lifeless form. He was slumped against the tub, his head lolling to the side, his skin pale and clammy. An empty syringe lay on the floor next to him, and his breathing was shallow, barely there.

“Lando,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she cupped his face. “Lando, wake up. Please.”

Oscar appeared in the doorway, his face ashen. “Is he—?”

“Call an ambulance!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Right now, Osc!”

Oscar pulled out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialled. She turned back to Lando, tears streaming down her face. She shook him gently, her voice rising in desperation. “You don’t get to do this, Lando. You hear me? You don’t get to give up like this.”

The operator’s voice buzzed faintly from Oscar’s phone as he relayed their location. He crouched beside her, his free hand resting on her shoulder, trying to steady her as she broke down.

“Come on,” she pleaded, her forehead pressed against Lando’s. “You’re not allowed to leave me. Not like this.”

The sound of distant sirens filled the air, growing louder with each passing second. Oscar stayed silent, his grip firm but gentle, grounding her as she crumbled.

In that moment, a bitter realisation struck him—a knife twisting in his chest. No matter how much he wanted to, he could never truly have her. Her heart was still tethered to Lando, even in its shattered, battered state. And as he watched her hold the man who had hurt her in so many ways, he knew it would always be that way.

She, meanwhile, was drowning in her own spiral of guilt. She’d left him. She’d abandoned him when he needed her most. And now, seeing him like this, all she could think was, I’m the reason he’s here. I’m the reason this happened.

The paramedics burst through the door, their presence swift and efficient, but she didn’t move until Oscar gently pulled her away to let them work. She stood frozen, clutching the edge of the sink as they checked Lando’s pulse and prepared a stretcher.

“Will he be okay?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

One of the paramedics glanced at her with a professional calm. “We’re stabilising him. He’s got a chance.”

As they wheeled him out, Oscar stayed close to her side, his arm hovering protectively near her back. They followed the stretcher down the stairs, out into the crisp night air. She couldn’t stop trembling, her mind replaying the scene over and over.

For Oscar, the sight of her clinging to Lando’s hand as he was loaded into the ambulance was a final confirmation of what he’d already known deep down. He would always be the one standing on the sidelines, watching as her heart belonged to someone else.

“Come on,” he said gently, guiding her away from the flashing lights. “Let’s go.”

The ambulance doors slammed shut with a finality that echoed in the pit of her stomach. She stood on the pavement, watching as the vehicle sped away into the night, its siren cutting through the heavy silence. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her chest tight with the weight of too many emotions to name.

Oscar stood a step behind her, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, the tension in his body radiating outwards. He wanted to say something, anything, but he knew better. She needed space, and he wasn’t sure he had the words to make this better, even if she’d let him try.

Finally, she turned to him, her face pale and streaked with tears. Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the city. “I can’t believe I left him.”

Oscar frowned. “This isn’t your fault.”

Her eyes snapped to his, the raw guilt blazing in them making him wince. “Isn’t it? I walked out, Osc. I left him. I knew he was falling apart, and I still…” Her voice broke, and she pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes. “What kind of person does that?”

“The kind of person who couldn’t set herself on fire to keep someone else warm,” he said softly.

She stared at him, her breath hitching, but the words didn’t seem to sink in. She shook her head, taking a step back. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to see someone you love destroy themselves, to feel like you’re all they have, and then to just… leave.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know?” His voice was quiet but firm. “I’ve been watching you do it. For too long. Staying with him, breaking yourself to pieces trying to save him.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. She just looked at him, stunned, as though the weight of what he’d said was pressing down on her all at once.

“I’m not saying it to hurt you,” Oscar continued, his tone gentler now. “But you need to stop blaming yourself. Lando made his choices. You didn’t make him drink, or use, or…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t make him do this.”

She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold the pieces together. “I just keep thinking… if I’d stayed, maybe—”

“Maybe you’d have ended up in that ambulance too,” Oscar interrupted, stepping closer. He hesitated, then placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did what you had to do. For yourself. That doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human.”

The tears came then, silent and unrelenting. She leaned into his touch, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was something fragile and precious. She buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled by the fabric of his jacket.

For a moment, Oscar allowed himself to close his eyes and just be there for her. It wasn’t enough—not for her, and not for him—but it was all he could offer.

When she finally pulled away, her face was blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, but there was a flicker of determination in her expression.

“I need to go to the hospital,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands.

Oscar nodded. “I’ll take you.”

The drive to the hospital was quieter, the urgency replaced by a heavy solemnity. She stared out of the window, her mind miles away, while Oscar focused on the road.

When they arrived, the harsh fluorescent lights of the A&E waiting room made everything feel colder. She checked in with the nurse at the desk, explaining who she was there for, and was told to wait.

Minutes turned into hours, and still, they hadn’t heard anything. Oscar sat beside her, his knee bouncing impatiently. She sat perfectly still, staring at the floor, her hands clenched in her lap.

Finally, a doctor emerged, her expression neutral but kind. “Are you here for Lando?”

She shot to her feet. “Yes. How is he?”

The doctor glanced at the clipboard in her hands. “We’ve stabilised him. He was lucky you got to him when you did. Another half an hour, and we might have been having a very different conversation.”

Her knees nearly gave out, and Oscar steadied her with a hand on her arm. “Can I see him?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“He’s still unconscious,” the doctor said. “But you’re welcome to sit with him.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and followed the doctor down the stark, sterile corridor. Oscar stayed behind, giving her space.

Inside the room, Lando looked small against the backdrop of wires and monitors. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was a stark reminder of how close he’d come to losing the fight. She sank into the chair beside his bed, her hands trembling as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from his face.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I shouldn’t have left you.”

But as the words left her mouth, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered something else: You couldn’t have saved him alone.

She sat there for what felt like hours, holding his hand and staring at the fragile rise and fall of his chest. In the doorway, Oscar watched her silently, his face unreadable.

For her, it was a moment of reckoning. For Oscar, it was a moment of heartbreak.

The steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence of the hospital room. She sat by Lando’s bedside, her hands trembling as they clutched his limp, lifeless one. He looked fragile under the harsh fluorescent light, a hollow shadow of the man he used to be.

She didn’t know how long she’d been there when his fingers twitched weakly in hers.

“Lando?” she whispered, leaning forward.

He stirred, his eyelids fluttering before slowly cracking open. His eyes were bloodshot, unfocused, but after a moment, they found her. Confusion flitted across his face, followed by something darker. Shame.

“You shouldn’t… be here,” he rasped, his voice thin and raw.

Her breath hitched. “Lando, don’t say that. I was terrified. I thought—” She swallowed hard. “I thought I’d lost you.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, jagged and broken. “Why do you care? You left, remember?” His words cut, even though his voice barely carried above a whisper.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t find the words. She squeezed his hand instead, her own shaking. “I care because you called me. You called me, Lando. You could’ve called anyone else, but you didn’t.”

He looked away, his expression crumpling. “Should’ve called no one. Let it… end.”

“Don’t you dare,” she snapped, her voice cracking. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to give up like that. Not when there are people who still care about you.”

Lando’s gaze drifted past her, to the doorway where Oscar leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his stance, a sharpness in his eyes.

Lando scoffed. “Even him? What, are you here for moral support, Oscar? Come to gloat?”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m here for her, not you.”

The venom in Lando’s glare was palpable. “Course you are. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Sweep in like a knight in shining armour, acting like you’re better than everyone else.”

“I don’t have to act,” Oscar replied coolly.

“Stop it, both of you,” she snapped, looking between them. “This isn’t about whatever history you two have. Lando, you’re in a hospital bed because you nearly died. Oscar, I didn’t ask you to be here so you could fight with him. This is bigger than that.”

Lando’s gaze flicked back to her, and the defiance faded, replaced by something brittle. He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling unsteadily. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he murmured. “I didn’t want anyone to.”

“Then stop putting yourself here,” she said, her voice breaking. “Lando, please. You have to get help. You can’t keep doing this.”

He didn’t respond, his face turned away. She felt her throat tighten, but she pushed on, her voice softer now. “I left because I couldn’t keep watching you destroy yourself. I didn’t want to, but I had to. For me. But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring. And it doesn’t mean you can’t fix this.”

Lando turned his head slowly, his bloodshot eyes locking with hers. “What if I don’t know how?”

Her heart broke at the quiet, vulnerable question. She squeezed his hand, her tears falling freely now. “Then let someone help you. Let me help you. But you have to try, Lando. Promise me you’ll try.”

Lando’s lips quivered, and after a long moment, he nodded weakly. “I’ll try,” he whispered.

Behind her, Oscar exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. But when Lando’s gaze shifted back to him, the bitterness returned.

“Bet you’ve been waiting for this,” Lando muttered. “The great Oscar Piastri, saving the day again. Must feel nice, huh?”

Oscar stepped forward, his expression hardening. “This isn’t about you, Lando. It stopped being about you the day you threw it all away. The career. The friendship. The team. I stopped caring about you a long time ago. The only reason I’m here is her.”

Lando flinched, and she bristled, turning to Oscar. “That’s enough, Osc.”

But Oscar didn’t back down. “No, he needs to hear it. You’re not my responsibility, Lando. You never were. But you made her yours, and you dragged her down with you. That ends now.”

Lando’s face crumpled, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his hand over his eyes. The sound of his muffled sobs broke something inside her.

“Oscar, stop,” she said firmly, standing. She faced him, her eyes filled with anger and hurt. “I know you’re angry, but this isn’t the time.”

Oscar’s jaw worked, but he nodded curtly, stepping back. “Fine. I’ll be outside.” He walked out without another word.

When she turned back to Lando, his face was wet with tears. “He hates me,” Lando muttered.

She sat down again, taking his hand in hers. “Maybe he does. But I don’t. And that’s why I’m asking you to fight. Not for him. Not even for me. For you.”

Lando didn’t answer, but the faintest nod of his head gave her hope.

In the hallway, Oscar leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the floor. His heart ached with frustration and unspoken words. When she finally emerged, her face pale and drawn, he straightened.

“Is he—”

“He’ll be okay,” she said quietly. “He promised he’d try.”

Oscar nodded, his expression unreadable.

He didn't know how this was going to go, but he wasn't ready to mourn the loss of another friendship because of his old teammate's reckless decisions.

the end.

taglist: @waytooobsessedwithlife@iimplicitt

[dancingbabya-notes]

"I love someone else"

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Them to you

As a joke your lovely boyfriend decides to tell you that he loves someone else

(Look at that my first post of the new year, ngl I just took a whole bunch of WIPs and dumped them on different days. that might be the path i take from now on because I have 400 notes on my phone and growing)

<-•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•->

Midoriya

When the words came out of his mouth, he was expecting some kind of reaction, you never got jealous and showing your emotions never went past a smile. But he wasn’t expecting to be met with unadulterated silence.

“Did you—“

“Oh I heard you Zuzu, but remember what my quirk is?”

He stopped and smacked his face with a groan. Having the ability to peer into other people minds had its benefits.

Bakugo

He was curious, being around you it was just one feeling all the time. Unaltered happiness. But as the words left his mouth it was silent.

“I- am I n-not good enough for you?” Your voice cracks as Midoriya rivaling tears poured down your face.

It didn’t help that water was beginning to fill the space. Kirishima damn near beat the shit out of Bakugo for even thinking of saying that to You. Eventually focusing on calming you down.

Kirishima

“Oh.” It was the only word to leave your mouth.

He watched as your posture deteriorated and any energy was sapped right out of you. You didn’t bother with anything else and disappeared into your room. Hoping it was all a bad dream.

Kirishima had to worship the ground you walked on for weeks to gain your trust back.

Kaminari

He had been fine. But now he was covered in juice. You weren’t very docile, a flame burned in your eyes.

“Go be with them then, why waste your time with me,” you attempted to strode off and cry in peace.

But Kaminari pleaded for mercy.

Mirio

Your wings fell, but your smile only faltered. “Who?”

As the tears started to roll down your cheeks the mask cracks. Mirio held you to his chest to mask the tears.

It hurt him to play a joke on you like this. He will tread carefully from now on.

Tamaki

Boy had some balls today. Telling you that he liked someone else. Your hands faltered as the needle you’d been using went straight through your hand. The physical pain was nothing compared to what your mental state was at the time.

“Okay, that’s fine.” You muttered pulling the needle from your hand before wrapping it tight.

Tamaki practically prostrated himself in apology,

Todoroki

You almost puked but holding back the bile you didn’t even alter your expression forcing your face to stay happy. But when the words left your mouth the smile broke.

“How could you ever love someone like me?”

He wasn’t sure what to say, he didn’t like that you were sad and that he caused this. Todoroki left and when he returned he had any and everything he found is supposed to help.

[cosmiccardistry]

Advice You Need To Hear Right Now

(Minors DNI + DNF!) Hello everyone, it's Cosmic or Card! Today, I'm doing a relatively simple, but needed tarot reading - one that pertains to, 'Advice You Need To Hear Right Now'! There are three colors to choose from: 'Pile One' will be blue, 'Pile Two' will be green, and 'Pile Three' will be red. When choosing a pile, look at the colors. Truly take them in. After that, shut your eyes. Breathe in and out until you feel calm - almost empty. Once you are relaxed, allow the color corresponding to the pile you're meant to engage with to appear within your mind. DISCLAIMER: I am a novice tarot reader. So, I do not intend for people to take my reads one hundred percent seriously! Also, this is a collective tarot reading. I am not reading your specific energy alone. As a result, it is unlikely that everything in your chosen pile will apply to you. Be discerning and use your own intuition! ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE ONE

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : I'll Try Anything Once - The Strokes, The Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala, Borderline - Tame Impala, Jingle Bell Rock - Bobby Helms, Canned Heat - Jamiroquai Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : "I fucking love Tame Impala, man - did you know that it's just one guy?", 555, banana, minions, bwah, rabbids First Four Cards From Deck #1 : Seven of Cups (Rx), King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, Ten of Wands (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : The Fool (Rx) (Clar. 7oC - Rx), The Sun (Clar. KoP), The Hermit (Rx) (Clar. 1oC), Nine of Wands (Clar. 10ofW - Rx) You really believe in something. You are deeply committed to whatever this "something" is. It could be a relationship, career, goal, idea, or something else entirely - however, what it is matters little. This commitment you are making is not as positive as you seem to believe it is. It is a negative situation pretending to be otherwise. The foundation you are currently focusing on - regarding this "something" you deeply believe in, despite all the red flags - is simply waiting to crumble. It's waiting to crumble because it's not meant for you. A good commitment, worthy of belief, does not make you feel extremely exhausted, or sap you of the passionate energy you wish to pour into something or someone. In fact, it is meant to do the opposite of all those things, Pile One. You have many options and opportunities, whether you see them or not. You could be putting your time and energy into many other and healthier things, but you don't... why? I think you understand, deep down, in all your wisdom, that you should commit yourself to things that make you truly happy - energies and opportunities that heal your heart, rather than break it further, but... you continue to ignore your inner wisdom. You ignore your inner wisdom in favor of continuing karmic cycle after karmic cycle with... whatever this commitment is. You might even become annoyed when the Divine tries to give you other, more emotionally fulfilling, opportunities in favor of pretending to be happy. The thing is, though, you could actually be happy! You would just have to do the work (which is easier said than done, I know - but still)! And there is an outright refusal to do the work, here - to heal the wounds that keep you in these karmic cycles. Your advice is to drop the swords - the defensiveness - against the help your spiritual team is trying to give you, Pile One. Not only that but drop the commitments that continuously hurt you in favor of... taking a leap toward happiness instead. Genuine happiness, I mean - not the kind of faux happiness you've convinced yourself you have, but the actual stuff! Head toward the future and away from the past, focus on healing yourself with the assistance of those around you (physical and/or spiritual), and you will achieve honest-to-God contentment. Thank you for reading, Pile One! And take care of yourself! :-) ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE TWO (TW)

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : Kiss Me, Son of God - They Might Be Giants, Rose Blood - Mazzy Star, Fade Into You - Mazzy Star, Video Games - Lana Del Rey Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : Election, death, pass away, "play stupid games, win stupid prizes", president, precedent First Four Cards From Deck #1 : Two of Swords (Rx), Eight of Wands (Rx), Page of Wands (Rx), Queen of Wands (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : Page of Pentacles (Clar. 2oS - Rx), Eight of Swords (Rx) (Clar. 8oW - Rx), Ten of Cups (Clar. PoW - Rx), The Moon (Clar. QoW - Rx) Pile Two, I am going to be as kind to you as possible. Namely, because it seems like you need that kindness right now. You've been going through a rough time lately... haven't you? I immediately started feeling sad when I began reading for you. I'm here to tell you that it's okay. Everything is going to be alright, no matter what happens next. You'll get through this. There is always an upside to every negative situation we face, even if that upside is hard to see in the heat of the moment. You might not know what to do with yourself. You might feel like you have no sense of direction, at the moment. You had all these plans and ideas, but... now - all of a sudden - they don't seem to matter. That being said, though, they do still matter. Your wants, hopes, and dreams will always be worth considering and fighting for - even if the world around you suggests otherwise. You are not meant to forgo your passions - not in this lifetime, not ever. Things might be moving slowly, but they are still moving nonetheless. You aren't trapped. Everything is not falling apart. You are not unmendable - and your life is not, either. The sadness and anxiety you feel are clouding your judgment right now. You have more opportunities for happiness than you, currently, think you do. For instance, you have many people who love you. They love you, whether they are around you physically or not. Don't push everyone away in favor of being alone. Embrace your loved ones - family, friend(s), romantic partner(s), pet(s), spiritual guides, ancestors - they want to be here for you in this trying, emotional time. Please, allow them to be. Get tarot cards for yourself, if you don't have them already - lean further into spirituality. Lean on the shoulders of the bright, unseen spiritual beings who love, guide, and protect you. On the other side of all this anguish, there is sunlight. There is justice and peace. There is victory and stability. Life is a constant cycle - you suffer the lows, so you can experience the highs again. I only ask that you prepare to see those highs, Pile Two. If we are not open to seeing the blessings as blessings, they pass us by without notice - prolonging our suffering. Consider noticing the small things—the little positives that make life worth living. It may be difficult to do, especially if you're dealing with mental illness, but it does make a difference. Not only that, but it becomes easier with time. You could also try twisting consistent, reoccurring, negative thoughts you have into positive ones! I know this seems like such a cop-out, but it does work! You will have negative thoughts no matter what; we all have them. Don't make it your job to force positivity onto every "bad thought" you have. I'm only suggesting that, if you notice a particular, negative thought process returning repeatedly, turn it on its head. It works and, again, it is something that gets easier to do with time. As a final bit of advice for you, Pile Two, get involved in something that will give its energy back to you. This could be a hobby. Anything. Involve yourself in something that brings you some semblance of happiness, is healthy, and lets you put your worries on the backburner for a while. Therapy could definitely be of use, too - if available to you! Oh, oh, and here are two lists of crisis prevention hotlines - if you need them: (x) (x) Aside from all that, I hope you feel better, Pile Two, and that you have a good one! :-) Thank you for reading!

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

PILE THREE

Shufflemancy/Channeled Song(s) : What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction, Just Dance - Lady Gaga, Spectronizer - Sentai Express, Sticky - Tyler, The Creator, Balloon - Tyler, The Creator Words/Sentences/Phrases/Numbers That Came To Mind : "I'm/You're insecure", Just Dance (the video game series), childhood, remember, internet, Justice (the clothing store), brick wall, things, thingies, trombone, trumpet, band, violin, orchestra, balloons, Animal Crossing First Four Cards From Deck #1 : King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups (Rx), Six of Cups, Nine of Cups (Rx) First Four Clarifying Cards From Deck #2 : Queen of Pentacles (Rx) (Clar. KoP), Justice (Clar. AoC - Rx), Ace of Wands (Clar. 6oC), Knight of Cups (Rx) (Clar. 9oC - Rx) You may have been feeling incredibly stuck recently. Particularly when regarding your career, finances, and goals. Either that or you believe that gaining more stability - financial or otherwise - will keep you from becoming stuck. If your heart isn't involved in the process, though, that is unlikely to be true. I say this all the time, but follow what you are passionate about and stability will come after the fact. The last time you followed your heart, however, may be cemented in your mind as a negative experience. Whatever happened has caused you to internalize an immense amount of heartbreak. It could have been anything - a bad relationship, a terrible job, an abusive home life - it doesn't matter. You were taught not to follow your heart and intuition as a result of what happened regardless. You need to break free from the trauma and suffering you have dealt with in the past, Pile Three. It's holding you back and keeping you from the stability you long for. This, also, could have even been a wounding that occurred in childhood because I keep occasionally thinking of different things that remind me of my own childhood. Me thinking of my own childhood makes me also believe, that - maybe - you finding ways to connect to your inner child could be helpful, here. You may believe that avoiding others and their assistance is best for you, but it really isn't - not when it comes to healing, anyway. In fact, by avoiding others, being judgmental, and pushing kind people who only want to help away, you are screwing yourself over. You are clearly not content with the past, so - again - release it! Easier said than done, definitely, but it can be done, Pile Three. By releasing and moving forward toward the future with an open mind, things will become so much easier and you'll actually get what you want. Stuff will actually start moving in the present when you release opportunities and ideas from the past that weren't meant for you. You have a future to enjoy, and you have a current moment to thrive in - don't let the past take anything more from you. You have everything you need, currently, to lead a fulfilling life - even if it may not seem so. You simply need to inspect things differently, with a fresh set of eyes, and you will see that fact. It is difficult to flip your perspective so abruptly, so be kind to yourself while you're working through any negative thought processes you may have, or past traumas that still haunt you. Resilience and strength will be instrumental, at this time - if you do choose to put the work into healing what still pains you and holds you back. However, I do believe you have what it takes to heal, Pile Three! I genuinely do! I wish you the best of luck on your journey, and I thank you for reading! :-)

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

[r0-boat]

mother to a werewolf child

Head cannons for my dilf werewolf OC being the father of your kid.

Feat. The cannon ship kid with reader: Forest.

Sfw

Cw: babies, being pregnant, mental health struggles, PTSD, anxiety, hurt/comfort, domestic life in the woods, baby fever, uhh brief non graphic description of birth.

[Author's notes: Forest was created because I thought it would be fun for me to give you a ship kid with my OC. Forest is the only one that's Canon if you ever want to kid. They canonically look like the with reddish hair. so they can be anything you want, and they can be any gender you want too]

Cole is heavily damaged by the trauma that his ex-wife gave him after she had kids with him, so for some reason, the Deep anxiety is telling him that you will soon leave him too. Before his ex left him, when she found out he was a werewolf and he never saw his children again, he cut all contact with her in exchange of her not letting out his secret to everyone she knows.

He wanted to have a child with you. All he wanted to be was a father, but now here you are pregnant, and he's having a panic attack. Silently in his wolf form, he whimpered underneath furniture just enough for his big size. When you tried talking to him he almost didn't recognize you snarling and almost biting you but you wouldn't leave your husband and the father of your child alone. You gently stroked his head as the whining slowly stopped. He apologized for the outburst as a man he knows he should be much stronger than this and he also apologizes for almost biting you.

The pregnancy for the werewolf child was rough. You swore it was almost as if you were turning into one yourself, and your cravings for meat only intensified into raw game meat. Cole was happy to provide his instincts once again, tapping into the urge to provide for his hungry spouse with the child in their tummy. Your hormones are out of control, and you're physically weak. This child is sapping all of your strength.

Your husband, before this point, said his favorite thing to do when the chores were completed was sit down on the couch and watch TV with a beer. He stepped up, he vowed to take care of everything, he cleaned the house how you would clean it, he did everything and more. As much as he'd hate it if his side gig for hunting weren't bringing enough to feed you, he would go back and work driving hours to the nearest small town and work any job they would give him.

He has never felt like this before, and honestly, he loves it. The feeling of being relied on always felt oddly comforting to him. Maybe that's just his werewolf instincts he'd never know. It was tiring. But it was all worth it seeing your smiling face as you finally try to muster your strength to get out of bed. This inhuman child demanded so much of your energy. The person who gave you that beautiful demon spawn was at your beck and call. Cole, in the future, what, annoyingly uses this as an example of what masculinity should be. Men give it their all to take care of their wives.

One night, two crooks broke into your house, and before they could do anything, once they found you helplessly on your shared bed, your husband found you. In danger and potential, Danger got flashbacks to how his ex found him as a werewolf protecting her, and he lost it. He could have killed them that night if it weren't for him holding himself back as the Intruders ran shit scared. He held you tightly, his hand, your stomach, calming himself down. " so what's that like?" You ask. Call scratched his scruffy chin before answering, "It's hard to explain, but it's like having tunnel vision. All I could think about was you being hurt, as if I was in the moment. All I could see was you being hurt and pure anger."

Cole, with nowhere else, put you to deliver the child. He had to call a person who knew how to do it his mother. A werewolf just like him, a kind, gentle red-haired lady. You had met her before and she knew you were the right one and before long you had a wonderful child.

When Cole held his child in his arms, he had flashbacks to win. He had to bust his ass to make sure you were well and fed throughout your pregnancy, and he cried tears of joy. Never once would he forget and regret that day

Forest was... Wild they are intelligent and learn very quickly; however, raising them was like having a little puppy with the intelligence of a human child. However, your dumbass husband was prepared. You had to double-take when you saw the plastic bag with the PetSmart label on it.... it worked... as long as Forest wasn't chewing on the furniture.

Forest in their wolf form looked exactly like their father, albeit with a more brownish-red tint from dad and with one floppy ear.

Cole was beaming with pride he swears it won't be like the last time he'll protect Forest with his life. Cole, we'll teach them everything they know how to find edible plants and hunting. Father and child running through the forest feeling the wind in their fur with you on Cole's back traveling to a small creek to play in the cool water need to go home and fall asleep in Cole's arms snuggling you close, lovingly protectively

[keisobe]

: 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 — (𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 + 𝐥𝐨’𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲)

— from avatar 2 : the way of the water (spoiler free!!)

contents. gn! reader, reader is a omaticayan, established relationships, angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional neglect, small kissing scenes, male red flags, the sully brothers being bad boyfriends + wc. 1.1k

notes. okay, so i write a lot of romantic + fluff drabbles of neteyam and lo’ak but i wanted to switch it up and write their red flags because guys are … guys. i realized i wrote a lot more for lo’ak, so i’m sorry about the word count difference between neteyam and lo’ak’s drabbles. enjoy reading some gut wrenching angst ♡

── ✦ 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 always put his family first. it was always charming to see him quickly scoop tuk into the warmth of his embrace or aid his mother when her emotions got too overwhelming. the days where you both spent together, making each other beaded jewelry or stargazing always put a smile on your face. until those days were always cut short. 

“sorry, dad needs me right now,” neteyam would push you out of his arms, rushing to gear himself with his woven pouch and poisoned arrows. he leaves a chaste kiss onto your cheek and hairline before he sprints into the forest.

it’s his family, it was okay. 

“kiri needs my help,” your body felt cold again— watching him sit up as he adjusted his leather belt, storing his hunting knife. 

no word was spoken from your lips, instead you replied with complete silence. neteyam didn’t glance away from his scattered belongings— collecting them as fast as he could. 

this time there wasn’t a kiss, but only the coldness biting your bare skin— neteyam ran off once again.

okay, this wasn’t okay.

“hey, is everything all right?” his honey glazed eyes shifted from the dusky sky, now gazing at your contorted features.

though you wanted to hold back, lie to his face. the feelings became too overwhelming— you had to tell him.

“no neteyam, nothing is all right,” you sat up, gazing down at the incomplete bracelet that sat limp on your dainty wrist.

“what’s wrong?” neteyam replicated your movements— sitting up as he gently rested his hand on your shoulder. 

there was a brief pause, the rustle of leaves filling the silence. neteyam was patient, watching your small movements. a sniffle came from your nose.

“it’s you,” your lips quivered as you said that. “you keep leaving me.”

neteyam shuffled in his seat a bit, a dry chuckle escaping his lungs.

“my family needs me,” he excused, shaking his head at your words. “you know that.”

he would never understand, it made you angry.

you swatted his hand off your shoulder, scooting away from the warmth of his skin— as much as you didn’t want to.

“no neteyam, it’s hard,” you turned your head away from him, tears welled up in your yellow eyes. “it’s like… like you don’t value our time.”

his lips pressed together as he avoided your gaze, thinking about what to say.

before neteyam could reply back, you stood up without ease— swiping off the tears that fell on your arms and knees.

“this time i’ll leave first,” you muttered, escorting yourself into the depths of the darkened forest.

guilt buried deep within neteyam’s gut. he had to make it right, but did he have time to get to you before—

“bro, i really need your help, like right now!” lo’ak’s desperate voice blasted through the speakers of his throat comm. 

his eyes glanced back and forth between where you left in the hollow forest to the familiar direction of his home. 

slowly adjusting his heavy pouch and clawed knife, neteyam takes a deep breath, turning his thick heels towards the right— back to his home.

family always came first and it’ll always be like that.

── ✦ 𝐋𝐎’𝐀𝐊 lived life on the edge. venturing out when everyone else rested for the night, weaving through the thick veins and feeling sap kissing the bottoms of his feet. there was always a surge of energy when he didn’t stick to the rules— he didn’t feel bound by his family, by the people from his clan. though his risky attempts to sneak off every night led you to be the one always by his side. you just wanted him to be safe.

“lo’ak, you’ll definitely get in trouble for this!” you warned, watching him skip across the tree bark towards an unknown, mossy area that was banned from being entered.

he briskly looked back before taking another leap, a smug smirk planted on his face.

“come on, don’t be such a wuss,” lo’ak shrugged his shoulders, voice sprinkled with utter sarcasm. the tips of your ears burned with frustration but also a tinge of fondness.

when he ran off, you followed.

“don’t hold that lo’ak!” lo’ak waved the heavy gun into the air, his finger lightly settled on the trigger.

after a successful raid, the omoticaya clan celebrated into fits of traditional cheers and clatters of new military artillery were being passed along to a more secure storage area. lo’ak happen to get his hands onto a stray gun left during the raid.

“it’s fine, my dad taught me how to use it,” lo’ak reassured, aiming the gun towards random directions. you let out a sigh, a small smile snuck onto your face.

“lo’ak!” a familiar voice shook your spine.

the olo’eyktan, jake sully, stood tall among the crowd— a scorn tucked into the wrinkles of his face.

quickly, you snatched the gun from lo’ak’s grasp, throwing it down onto the dirt floor as you knelt down. you felt jake’s presence grow near, every nerve in your body felt like needles prickling on your skin.

you picked up the gun, raising your head high to meet jake’s hard glare.

“this was a stray gun, someone probably dropped it while it was being passed,” you explained, gently handing the gun to jake.

lo’ak didn’t say a word, silently observing you deceive his father.

jake simply nodded, fishing off the gun from your grasp— walking off towards a group of fellow clan members to continue the formation.

“thanks,” lo’ak smiled, kneeling down himself to give you a tight back hug. the two you erupt into relieved laughter, a plethora of kisses adorned your face and shoulders.

when he’s in trouble, you covered for him.

“what is the meaning of this?”

neytiri and jake eyed both of you in disappointment— watching the fiddle of your fingers and the way your eyes darted with nervousness. once again, lo’ak ventured out into the forbidden parts of the forest, forcing you to accompany him. both of his parents caught you in the middle of the act, dragging you back home without a word.

“it was me,” you raised your hand, looking deeply into lo’ak’s worried eyes. “i wanted to see what was there, so i forced lo’ak to go with me. it’s all my fault.”

neytiri pouted at your explanation, glancing at jake for his insight. with a silent agreement, they both nodded their heads.

“then you’re banned from hunting for a week,” jake announced, the color in your face vanishing completely.

lo’ak flinched at his father’s words, his lips parted— but nothing came out.

though you took the blame, you wanted lo’ak to at least defend you— maybe even confess to all his rebellious behavior that put you in so many difficult situations.

neytiri walked over to you and firmly latched onto your arm, escorting you back into your tent.

you looked back to lo’ak, but he never met your eye.

when he’s silent, you took the blame for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

© 2023 keisobe – please do not copy any of my writing and repost or translate to other sites.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Hi, can I request comfort fic with Frank? I just don't really like how my life looks right now... I don't like my job, but don't know what else I can do so I'm stuck here... and I feel really lonely recently and like I don't know what to do with my life... and reading fics are one of the few things that brings me joy...

So I thought about a fic where reader is sad and to cheer her up Frank planned a whole day for them to distract her from not kind thoughts?

And I'm sorry that I kinda dumpt it on you... I have trouble with expressing/describing my emotions and I think that was the first time I expressed those feelings to someone... Of course if you don't feel like writing this you can freely ignore this message, thank you 🫶🏻

Anon, I absolutely feel your pain. I’ve been dealing with my own work drama for months now and some days it feels like I’m going to have to completely start over to be happy. I hope I did your request justice, and if you ever need to rant to someone, my DMs are open :)

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary:  Frank helps you when work is breaking your spirit.

warnings: swearing, hints of smut but nothing graphic

w/c: 3k

Digging your jagged nails into the flesh of your palms, you forced yourself to tune out the overwhelming plethora of stimuli that was currently bombarding you on the subway. Screaming children, the heat of bodies crowding around you, the shrieking of wheels on metal tracks, some old guy coughing up a lung at the back of the car, the bright fluorescent lights beating down on the dozens of people crammed in here like sardines. Fuck, you hated the subway. 

It was especially unbearable on days where you were already overtired from work—which, recently, seemed to be every day. This job was supposed to be your ticket to a good life and a stable future, but instead it was a joyless, energy-sapping, waste of your fucking time. Your coworkers were catty, your boss far too demanding for the bottom of the barrel wages you received, and the work itself was dreary. Each day you sat in that cubicle, you could feel the light inside you flickering, just waiting for one more lackluster employee review to be completely snuffed out. 

Clearly, you weren’t the only one who felt this way about your place of employment, given that over a third of the staff at your level had quit in the last two months. Unfortunately for you, this meant longer hours and crankier conversations with your superiors, who were consistently disappointed in your performance despite you efficiently accomplishing everything that was asked of you. 

Not only did longer hours lead to you getting overstimulated on the subway, but it meant you’d been spending less time at home with your boyfriend. You’d barely seen Frank this month, between his trips out of town and your rigorous schedule, and it was driving you up a wall. All you wanted was to let him wrap himself around you, petting your hair as you cried and holding you tight when you eventually fell asleep. Though, with the way your days were going lately, most of the time you didn’t want to be touched. You just wanted to shove crap food in your mouth and pass out before you had to go back to that hellscape in the morning. 

Frank was the kindest, most thoughtful partner you’d ever had, so he gave you plenty of space on the days you came home in an emotion-filled silence. He could read your moods pretty well at this point, and always respected your wishes, even if it meant he’d be nursing a beer in the living room alone until he went to sleep. You’d hoped that today would grant you enough energy to enjoy some time with him, but the world wasn’t that charitable. 

Shuffling off the subway amongst the masses, you let your body droop slightly as you trudged back to your apartment. Practically crawling up the stairs, you eventually reached the door—shoving it open in frustration as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 

Instantly, you were greeted with the sound of soft music and the smell of onions and garlic cooking. Frank was in the kitchen, swaying almost imperceptibly to the song he was listening to, stirring a pot of what looked like tomatoes.  

“Hey, doll,” He greeted you softly, throwing you a smile over his shoulder but remaining planted at the stove, probably in an attempt to give you space.

“Hi.” Your voice was breathy and small, your stony face accented with glassy eyes. 

Frank knew better than to expect that everything would change in a day, but the sight of your crumpling face broke his heart. Stepping towards you with a furrowed brow, he tried for a small smile. “Another bad day?” 

You nodded, the force of the movement drawing two parallel tears down your cheeks. Sniffling, you didn’t respond, confident that your voice would crack if you did. 

“Do you want a hug?” Frank asked, hesitating a few feet from you as he waited for your answer. 

“I’m n-not sure, Frankie.” You admitted, more tears pooling as you did. “Not r-right now, I think.” 

Nodding in understanding, Frank crossed his arms, as if to keep himself from hugging you anyway. “Alright, sweet girl. Not a problem. Why don’t you go lay down while I finish dinner, hm?” 

Sighing, you nodded once, padding to the bedroom and collapsing into the blankets with a poorly stifled sob. Frank winced at the sound, his hands burning with an ache to hold you, to make everything better, but he couldn’t do that until you were ready. 

You’d only given him glimpses of the nightmare you were living. Whether you didn’t talk to him about it because you were worried it would scare him away, or because you didn’t trust him, he wasn’t sure—though the dark parts of his mind were convinced it was the latter. Regardless, Frank did his best to maintain a cozy home for you. It couldn’t be easy to have a mass-murderer-turned-government-hit-man as a partner, waiting around on your own for days while he worked odd jobs for Madani, but you’d never let it impact your love for him. 

You were thoughtful, sweet, and adorably shy—not to mention you balanced him out in ways he’d never expected. The pair of you brought out the best in each other, despite your peculiar relationship. You’d never made him feel distant or guilty for leaving, simply welcoming him back from his trips with open arms and eager eyes. Yet, the past few months your job had been eating at you, sapping the life from your beautiful eyes and leaving a listless husk of his girlfriend behind. 

He didn’t want to pry, far too afraid of snapping your already fragile composure and ruining the bond you shared. But every day you came home holding back tears, and it was going to kill him. He’d rip your office apart with his bare hands if it would end your misery, though he knew you’d never ask him to do that. 

So, instead, he did as much as he could—laying out his softest sweatshirt on your bed, playing quiet music, making a warm meal for the two of you to share���all in an effort to take something off of your plate, to remove an ounce of weight from your shoulders. After a week with no indication that any of this was helpful, he’d started scheming. 

Hopefully, it wouldn’t take too much begging to convince you to take an extra day off…

Stirring the tomato sauce one final time as he removed it from the heat, he tilted the pot over the cooked pasta, letting a ribbon of sauce drape over the noodles before giving it a quick stir. Scraping a dollop of sauce out of the pot with his finger, he popped the digit in his mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction at the array of flavors. 

Brushing his hands across his jeans, he plated two generous helpings of pasta, assuming you had worked through lunch once again, and set them in front of two chairs at your table. Steeling himself for the sight of your tear streaked face, he shuffled over to the bedroom and knocked softly. 

“Darlin’? You ready to eat?” Keeping his voice low, he gingerly opened the door. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light that managed to slip through your curtains, his heart squeezed at the sight of you sleeping, curled in fetal position. Your delicate hands clenched around your covers like they were your lifeline, your damp face squashed against his pillow. Biting his lip in thought, he returned to the main room to cover the pasta. 

Spending very little time tidying up, he wandered back into the bedroom, stripping out of his clothes in exchange for a pair of sweats and a worn Henley. Settling behind you with a book in hand, he slipped under the covers as unobtrusively as possible before his inner monologue made him pause. Would you even want him beside you? Was he crossing a line?

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about that for long as your sleeping form unconsciously wrapped around him, a small sigh falling from your lips as you nuzzled into his stomach. Smiling down at you, his free hand came up to stroke over your hair, his own grin widening when the soft touch made your lips twitch up in a sleepy smile. He thumbed through about a chapter of his book before you began to stir, shining lashes fluttering as your eyes opened. As the sleep disappeared from your eyes, Frank felt another wave of apprehension cresting in his chest, but the tide was quickly settled by your sweet gaze. Nestling into his side more deeply, you hummed in appreciation. “Hi, Frankie.” 

“Hi, sweet girl. Did you have a good nap?” A teasing mirth danced in his gaze, making you avert your eyes bashfully. 

“Mmm hmm. Sorry.” You murmured, rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt. 

Clucking his tongue, Frank slid down to face you, tracing a thumb over your cheek. “No reason to be sorry, dollface. I’m glad you slept, you’ve been tired.” 

Sighing deeply, you traced the buttons on his shirt. “Work’s been a lot, recently.” 

“I figured as much, doll. Ya don’t gotta tell me anything, but I’m always here to listen, yah?” The tip of his thumb caressed your ear. 

Blinking back tears, you looked up at him apologetically, “I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark, Frank, it’s just so stupid and I—“

“Hey, hey, it ain’t stupid.” Frank tugged you impossibly closer, brushing tears off your face carefully. “If it bothers ya, it’s not.” 

“You just…” You drew in a ragged breath, the inhale catching on a sob. “You have so much to worry about already, and I don’t want to be a burden!” Bawling now, you felt your chest constricting at the thought of dumping more work onto Frank’s already overflowing to-do list. 

“You’re not a burden.” Frank spoke fiercely, looking deep into your eyes. “You have never been a burden, doll. Never.”

His words were a promise, you drank in his commitment with immense desperation, praying to forces you didn’t believe in that he was being truthful. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Frankie,” Your voice cracked on the admission. “I’m fine at my job, but nobody can see that, and I don’t feel satisfied by the work that I’m doing but it’s all I know! I can’t just quit, I don’t have any other plan, this is everything I’ve worked for and—“ Your ramble broke off into sobs, your breath hitching as Frank shushed you quietly. 

“I know, I know, doll. It sucks right now and I’m so sorry.” Rubbing a hand over your back, Frank encouraged you to breathe, waiting until your lungs could actually take in oxygen before continuing. “Sweetheart, if ya wanna quit, I’ll support ya. If ya wanna stick it out, I’ll support ya. Regardless of what you choose, I’ll be right here at the end of the day.” 

“I can’t quit, Frank, we need the money.” You whimpered. 

“Hey, we can figure it out if we need to. It ain’t a problem.” 

Nodding against his palm, you considered your options. “For now, I’ll stick it out. But, thank you.” 

“No need to thank me, honey. It’s my job to look out for ya, remember?” His sappy remark sparked a tiny smile from you. “You’re my girl, sweetheart. I’m always gonna take care of my girl.” 

Nuzzling into his chest, you stifled a yawn before abruptly looking up at him with wide eyes. “Shit, Frankie, what time is it? Did I miss dinner?” Wriggling out of his embrace, you wiped the lingering tears off your face before sitting up. Frank bit his tongue to keep from chuckling at your genuine concern. 

“Dinner is waiting for us, sweet girl. I’m in no rush.” Cradling your neck, Frank pressed a languid kiss to your lips, taking advantage of your distraction and flipping you on top of him. 

“Frank!” You squealed, beaming down at him with more happiness than he’d seen from you in weeks. 

“What?” He questioned innocently, gently leading your face back to his for another kiss. 

“What’s gotten into you?” You wondered aloud, returning the kiss but looking at him with feigned exasperation. 

“I ain’t allowed to love on you now?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You rolled your eyes, shuffling off of him and out of the bed. “C’mon, you sap. Let’s eat the dinner you made before it’s ruined.” 

As the night sky populated with stars, Frank doted on you insistently. He’d reheated your dinner, turned on your favorite movie, even brought you a pint of your favorite ice cream for dessert. You’d gratefully accepted his comforts, yet he still seemed to be holding back. As he puttered around in the kitchen, doing the dishes alone (he’d staunchly refused your help), you could see the wheels turning in his brain. 

“Frank, is something wrong?” You asked, picking at a stray thread along the seam of the blanket he’d wrapped around your shoulders, gazing over at him as your heart rate pounded anxiously.

“Huh?” Your timid question snapped him out of his thoughts, his hands nearly flinging the soapy dish across the room as he spun towards you. “Oh, uh, no. Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” 

Unconvinced, you nodded, nibbling on a hangnail poking out from your thumb. In an attempt to self-soothe, you shifted your attention back to the tv, but Frank’s energy still seemed out of place. 

Placing the last plate in the dishrack, Frank dried his hands, ambling over to you with a hesitant smile. “I gotta ask ya something, doll.”

Nervousness spiking, you nodded, tilting your head in anticipation of his query.

“If I asked ya to call in sick tomorrow, what would ya say?” Frank’s jaw was tight as he asked, clearly expecting anger in response.

“I’d say absolutely, love. Why do you ask?” “I was hopin’ you’d wanna take an extra day, to escape those assholes and maybe do something fun?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Frank Castle looked nervous. His eyes flirted between your gaze and his lap, his trigger finger twitching. 

“Oh, Frank, I’d love that!” You gushed, throwing your arms around him. He grunted in surprise, his own hands coming up to hold you in place so you didn’t topple off the couch. “I’ve been hesitant to take sick days because everyone’s been so on edge lately, will you sit with me when I call in?” 

“Course I will. If anyone gives ya trouble, they’ll have me to answer to.” Frank assured you with a menacing glint in his eye. Kissing his nose, you stroked a knuckle over his stubbled cheek. 

“Thank you, handsome.” 

“Anything for my girl.” 

True to his word, Frank made sure you were seated comfortably in his lap when you called in sick, both so that he could rub reassuring circles along your waist, and so that he could hook his chin over your shoulder to listen for any flack you might be given. Fortunately for your boss, they grumbled an “ok” and hung up quickly. Anything ruder than that, and they might have been on The Punisher’s shit list. 

Sinking backwards into your boyfriend’s sturdy chest, you shuddered. “Glad that’s over with.” Breathing deeply, you took a moment to collect your anxious self before standing to get ready for the day. Or, trying to stand, at least. 

A set of strong hands caught your hips, yanking them backwards to hold you in Frank’s lap. 

“Frank!” A small fit of giggles burst out of you as his fingers pressed into your ticklish skin. 

“What’s the hurry, doll? We’ve got all day.” Planting heated kisses along your neck, you felt Frank smile when you mewled in response. “Attagirl, let me make ya feel good, hmm?” 

Whisking you back to the bedroom, Frank helped you forget all about your shitty job. 

Slightly breathless following your morning exercise, you hummed happily as Frank continued to press his lips to the exposed flesh of your body, taking care to show every piece of you as much love as possible. Boxing you in with his massive arms, he molded his beautifully crooked nose against yours, finishing his trail of kisses with a lengthy kiss to your lips. 

“So, what did you have planned for today?” You asked against his lips, threading a hand in his hair. 

“Nothin’ much. I was thinkin’ maybe nice coffee and a trip to that museum you’ve been talkin’ about?” A blush crept over his cheeks. “Sorry, doll, I, uh, I ain’t too good with this…” He gestured between the two of you. 

“Aw, Frankie,” You scolded gently, kissing him tenderly. “You’re plenty good at ‘this’.” You mirrored his gesture and he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, honey. You’re the most romantic partner I’ve ever had. And that plan sounds lovely. Let me clean up and we can go for coffee.” 

As you curled into a seated position, Frank caught your wrist. “Hey! Where do you think you’re goin’?” 

“To wash up!” You giggled, striding back over to the bed where he slotted you between his legs. 

“Nah, you’re gonna sit right here while I draw you a bath. And I’m gonna run to the coffee place across the street and get ya one of those sugary drinks ya like so much. Then we can go out, if ya feel up to it.” His demanding tone made you smirk, his military tendencies tended to come out when he was concerned about you. 

“That sounds perfect, love.” You kissed his cheek, sitting on the bed as he headed to the bathroom. 

The rest of the day passed quickly, leaving you longing for more cozy time with Frank. Though he considered himself lacking in the romance department, he’d provided you nothing but pure love on your day off, indulging your every whim just to see you smile. 

And as you fell asleep at the end of the day, you clung tightly to him, trusting him to get you through whatever life threw your way.

[penguicorns-are-cool]

Sleep Tax

so I've been thinking about something and I'm gonna call it sleep tax

basically, because of my ADHD I need a bit of extra time to get ready in the morning, but also the earlier I wake up the more time I need cause I'm also dealing with sleep deprivation.

So like, if I need to leave home at 8:30 I need to fully wake up by 7:30 so my first alarm has to be at 7:00 so I have time for a few snoozes and an hour to get ready. If I have to leave by 8:00 though I need to wake up fully by 7:00 to even have a chance of getting ready in time and my first alarm has to be around 6:20.

And it gets worse if it's cold cause now there's the extra step of forcing myself into the cold and the cold makes everything else harder to do. So now I have to wake up like 15 minutes earlier to give myself time for that but really my first alarm is way before that so I can have proper snoozing time. Like, Now to leave at 8:30 I have to fully wake up around 7:15 or earlier and my first alarm will be at 6:30.

Now, if waking up this early makes me sleep deprived for whatever reason. Like maybe I had a lot of work the night before, or I had a bad day and ended up staying up late on Tumblr trying to decompress to the point that I could get to sleep, or I just couldn't sleep. Then it'll start a cycle of not so great energy-sapping days where it's hard to sleep and I consistently get to bed closer to 1-2am. Now I'm getting like 6 or less hours of sleep a night and am getting very sleep-deprived so getting ready is even slower. Now I have to wake up even earlier to compensate for that. My first alarm now is at 6:20 (or earlier) so I can wake up at 7:00

And if I have to wake up earlier when I'm already waking up at 7:00 and have to leave around 8:00 instead of 8:30, well I just kind of die cause now I'm waking up at 6:45 with my first alarm at 6:00 or 5:55 all while getting less than 5 hours of sleep a night

So now I'm in this horrible cycle of getting more and more sleep deprived because the sleep deprivation and other stuff makes it harder and harder to get ready so I have to wake up earlier and earlier which makes my days more and more energy-sapping which means I stay up later and I get more sleep-deprived and I'm even slower getting ready and have to wake up earlier and on and on and on

[evolutionsvoid]

As all should know by now, I am pretty passionate when it comes to flora and fauna. As a researcher, I've devoted my life to learning everything I can and seeing every creature I can. I find it all so fascinating, and I can't help but fall in love with the natural world over and over again. I don't know how to put it into words, or properly explain why I care so much about it. Well, actually, I can put it into words, but someone won't let me properly explain it! "Too long," she says! "An intro shouldn't be longer than a novella," she says! But wasn't she the one who told me to write about my passion?! It's lunacy, I tell you! To tell me to pour my heart out and put into words the love and energy that keeps me going, keeps me living, but then limit it to a measly few pages! I won't have it! I won't tolerate it! I will give her a piece of my mind when I see her again! Apparently the last five times didn't get through her thick cap!....Now what was I writing again?

YES, nature! Wonderful animals and plants! What I was getting at was my love for such things, and all the weird shapes, sizes and types they come in! It is perfection! Wonder! Beauty! Every creature adapted in such specific ways! Given such incredible traits! They are living pieces of art! SO WHY DOES SOME NOXIOUS WEED OF A KNOTHEAD THINK THEY CAN DO BETTER?! Magic and its wretched alterations! Bah! Don't get me wrong, magic is a wonderful thing in itself, and it has certainly made everyone's lives easier! Well, at least if you aren't on the receiving end of a magic bolt. Or belong to a poor village that is going to be demolished to have a fancy academy put in instead... But nothing drives me crazier than people using magic to alter and mutate perfectly good species into something else! Okay, well maybe stupid naming conventions are worse. And, perhaps idiots who introduce invasive species on purpose. Okay, so, actually one of the things that drives me absolutely mad is magic alterations of plants and animals.

Now, of course, changing flora and fauna used in agriculture is perfectly reasonable. We were doing it well before magic got so big. The knot in my side is when people mutate species purely for spectacle or to make them living weapons! And with no thought or care for the creature itself! A tool to be used and thrown out! Disgusting! We dryads may use our affinity to these things to cause changes, but we do so respectfully and ensure that the species is not seen as a disposable trinket. The Eyahs are a good example of magic mutations that were done in the worst way possible. A simple primate warped into a crazed, bloodthirsty killer, but then abandoned the second the war was over! Vile! Hateful! A putrid violation of life! But of course I didn't bring this stuff up purely to get my sap pumping, as it is relevant to the species I wanted to write about. The bolt spider is an arachnid that faced a similar fate, used as an experiment in magic.

Originally, the bolt spider was a relatively simple species. About the size of a dinner plate, found in places that had plenty of trees or high up vantage points. Like many of their relatives, they spun webs in order to trap passing prey. The difference here, though, was that the bolt spider was capable of producing a glowing webbing that had some shocking properties! By that I mean it could be electrified by a pulse from the spider's special organs. This was how it quickly dispatched large prey that flew into their web! And the glow of their silk attracted food and drew them closer to their doom! Wonderful stuff! What a neat little species! However, some folk saw these spiders and thought they could do better...

According to the tales, the original intent was to make these spiders larger and produce more silk. This was because their beautiful glowing silk was a prized material, and used in a variety of fancy clothing, potions and other such things. The wild spider populations were taking a hit from over harvesting, as their silk fetched a fair sum. So the idea was to make a captive breed that could fulfill the market's wants more easily. However, at some point, things went foul. It would seem that the bolstering of this species size and abilities through magic caught the attention of some nasty folk. And when they began to meddle with things, a new direction was taken in this program. What resulted was the bolt spiders we know today, a species that is the disgust of many. This is because they are now associated with a magic group that is very unpopular with the public: necromancers.

It would seem that an interesting thing was found with the bolt spider's electrical capabilities. When bolstered to a greater size, there was more power to their jolts, more danger. A full burst unleashed upon a person could fry them outright, but that wasn't the interesting part. What really caught folk's attention was how the electricity affected the dead. When dead flesh was exposed to this energy, it would seemingly come to life! The electricity would make the muscles and limbs go crazy! And that was when the experiments took their turn. They would cease to be silk spinners for fancy tapestries, and instead become undead monstrosities.

The resulting bolt spider was much larger, more potent and very deadly. Its electrical capabilities have been greatly enhanced, and its aggression has been increased as well. These arachnids now rarely hunt by waiting in shocking webs, and instead attack prey straight on. Their legs end in sharp points, which can easily pierce skin. Through this, they can pump a lethal amount of volts into victims. And when one of these large spiders jumps on to you and fully snares you in its steel trap grip, it is all over. For you at least, because with this new corpse, the bolt spider has a new task to complete. Time to take its new toy home...

When presented with a dead body, the bolt spider will position itself on the deceased's back. It aims to align its own body with the spine, where it will clamp down. Its legs will then pierce specific points of the corpse, going for limbs, shoulders and thighs. Its fangs will unsheathe and pierce into the neck, while its odd pedipalps will embed themselves into the neck. Now fully latched on, it will release its energy and the corpse will come to life! Well, not really. What actually happens is that the spider uses its electricity to control the deceased, turning them into an undead puppet. This is how they bring their food back to their nest, or use this new bulky body to fend off foes and capture new prey. But it doesn't end there! Trained by necromancers and enhanced by their foul magic, the bolt spider wants more than a simple human body. As they gather more carcasses, they will use their serrated chelicerae to gnaw through limbs and break them down into pieces. Then, their silk will be utilized to sew the desirable chunks back together, into a horrible amalgamation of flesh and death. Copious webbing will be used to patch it together and hold it all into one piece. And when the bolt spider latches on and uses its energy, the whole thing will come to life, powered by its piercing limbs and electrified webbing. This is where the horror stories begin, with monstrous brutes of undead flesh and glowing "veins," striking foes down with electric web whips and unnatural strength.

Thankfully, the original species can still be found in some remote forests, but they are incredibly rare. These monstrous versions are all people know now, and it is so unfair! A brilliant creature now turned into some undead nightmare! The gall of it all! It causes fear and hate towards the species, even the unaltered ones! Now anytime anyone even thinks of an electric spider, they think of these horrible electric terrors that kill and consume, stitching victims onto their growing mass. Vile! Disgusting! Oh how I would love to tear apart the necromancers responsible for this with may bare hands! Of course, Eucella is very adamant that I don't do this, and that I swear I won't go picking fight with necromancers. Hmph! Tell me what to do! She's still worried about that troll poaching incident. I was fine, I had everything under control! Yeah, so what if they were armed? So was I, with the power of justice and righteousness! Those who kill innocent beasts for no reason will hear from me! I WILL STRIKE THEM DOWN, even if it is only with my fists! Just ask those two poachers I beat to a pulp before Eucella dragged me off them! I could have done worse! (And they could have too, Chlora! There were FIVE poachers there! With spears! I stopped you from getting skewered like a vegetarian kebab, you ignorant weed! And also if you come to my office to rant about the intro again I swear I am locking you in the closet and going home for a long weekend. - E.R.)

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

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

"Bolt Spider"

Uh, it is actually called Frankenstein's Spider, thank you very much! Gosh, people!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,794 Words

Summary: The solar eclipse after Solar's death has an energy to it.

Warnings: Character Death, Caps, Cursing, Overworking, Self-Hatred (from Moon, of course), Sleep Deprivation, Blood (minor), Minor Injury, Ghost, Magic, Mind Meld, Soul Bond, Sharing A Body/Brain, Pain, Nausea, let me know if I should add anything else.

Binding And Bonding

Solar woke up in an abyss. Everything around him was darkness. He could see a vague ring of light around him, lighting up the rest of his surroundings decently well. He could vaguely hear something being said into the void around him in a vaguely familiar voice but he was knocked out before he could acknowledge the voice.

-Two And A Half Weeks Earlier-

"I don't wanna go…" Solar muttered, body deteriorating and slowly disintegrating as it collapsed to the floor like his dimension likely was. Moon was quick to grab him and try to keep him steady but it wasn't any use given he couldn't feel his legs anymore.

"You don't have to!" Moon insisted, holding Solar as close as he could, Solar feeling Moon's hands slip through him as he could feel himself fading into an abyss.

"Solar? SOLAR!" Solar could vaguely hear Moon screaming as he went into a void.

-A Week Later-

"Moon, you're pushing yourself. You aren't charging or resting." Eclipse finally broke and snapped at him.

"Maybe I would if I hadn't fucked everything up!" Moon screamed back at him, too stressed to not scream at the inconveniences anymore, too focused on getting Solar back now.

"Moon, you're at a max of five percent." Eclipse reminded him.

"I'll charge when my brother is back." Moon growled venomously, eyes turning to glare that Eclipse dare interrupt him but Eclipse had gotten used to Moon being like this fairly quickly. Eclipse knew Moon would inevitably run himself down and then Eclipse could carry Moon off to bed.

Thankfully, Eclipse got that opportunity sooner rather than later as Moon stumbled and his hand hit a tray, knocking it to the floor with Moon collapsing to the floor as well a few seconds later.

Eclipse went and finally was able to scoop the poor sap up and groan at how heavy Moon was, muttering complaints about how much Moon weighed as he kicked the door to Parts & Service open for him since he was busy carrying Moon.

"You." Ruin caught Eclipse's attention before Eclipse was able to leave.

"Yeah, what about me? Want me to come in there and kill you finally?" Eclipse asked.

"No, actually. I would like you to forget Protocol 87.775.2, actually." Ruin told him and Eclipse tilted his head in question, not really knowing what Ruin was talking about.

"Forget about what?" Eclipse asked.

"Exactly! Good job! Thank you! Be on your way now!" Ruin cheerily told him and Eclipse shook his head and carried Moon up to the daycare and through the portal to the house, sighing seeing Sun's cats practically waiting for Moon, though they hissed as if they hated him anyway, but Eclipse knew the little cretins were pretending they hated Moon.

Eclipse laid Moon on the couch and put a blanket over him for the cats to crawl on top of and purr now that they knew Moon was sleeping. Eclipse chuckled at the little gremlins. They sure loved their uncle, they were purring on his unconscious body.

Eclipse plugged Moon's charging wire into the wall outlet near the couch and left to go figure out what the hell Ruin was talking about, landing at the daycare computer inevitably. It seemed the computer knew everything anyway so he may as well try.

"Nice attempt, but you are not a member of the Celestial Family." The computer told him.

"Nice joke, I actually am. But I came for answers." Eclipse told the machine.

"Whyever would I give you answers?" The computer asked.

"Ruin mentioned a protocol in me, basically asking me to delete it but I don't know what he was talking about. I will let you scan my code if you look for Protocol 87.775.2." Eclipse told the computer.

"…I will agree to these conditions, only because it may serve well for Moon." The computer agreed. Eclipse plugged himself into the computer for it to scan him and just sat back waiting, all he could do was wait. The computer was doing two things at once and it was taking a while.

Eclipse ended up falling asleep for a bit in the computer chair while the computer did its thing. However, the computer also decided to be an alarm for Eclipse as it woke him up with a loud bussing noise through his circuits.

"HEY!" Eclipse jolted awake, pulling out the cord and thoroughly startled by the computer.

"Ah, good, awake. I have found Protocol 87.775.2 as well as scanned your code." The computer told him.

"And you wake me up like your about to try giving me a controlled shock?" Eclipse snapped.

"Yes, I found it amusing." The computer would've laughed if it could, Eclipse could tell.

"Fine, what is the protocol about?" Eclipse asked.

"This protocol entails a means to what Moon has been working on. A way to undo what has been done." Eclipse scoffed at that.

"So that's why he wanted me to get rid of it. I haven't been alone in a room so he couldn't give me an order to try to get me to delete it until today." Eclipse muttered.

"Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult as it works with the essence of an energy." The computer told him.

"Tell me what I have to do."

-One Week & Four Days Later-

Eclipse walked into the room Solar had died in. He had finally made good on getting everything else ready and Sun and Moon were out with Earth and Lunar, watching the solar eclipse on the roof of the PizzaPlex.

Eclipse had chalk, blood, and a dagger. He hated this, it felt so weird. It felt so awkward to probably be the first person Solar sees when he comes back.

"Solar?" Eclipse calls to whatever remained of Solar's energy, which he had attuned himself to over the last week and a half.

"Solar." Eclipse called to Solar again, sitting down in front of where Solar died. He could feel the energy around him swirling as though Solar was trying to tell him he was there still.

"There you are." Eclipse closed his eyes, holding the chalk and drew a circle of runes with his eyes closed, following the images of runes the protocol was feeding him on the back of his eyelids. The circle was around Eclipse himself and the spot Solar died in, interlocking them.

"Solar, I can feel you. God that sounds weird." Eclipse muttered the last half. The energy jolted like it was laughing at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, idiot. Sit with me." Eclipse sighed. He could vaguely see the outline of Solar's energy sit with him.

"Thank you." Eclipse muttered, knowing he had to thank Solar. He hated that he had to. Eclipse cringed as he poured the blood on the inner ring of the rune circle, watching outside as the sky began to go dark.

"I willingly open this connection for Solar." Eclipse stated as the protocol had, cutting open his right hand with the dagger in his left dominant hand. Eclipse could see that the whisp in his vision that was Solar's energy was interested.

"Hold my hand, Solar and only Solar." Eclipse told the energy. The energy seemed to hold his hand and Eclipse sighed at the feeling, relieved Solar was just listening to him, probably out of curiosity rather than genuine willingness.

"I connect what is mine to what is yours. Wire for wire, energy for energy. I share willingly what is mine with you." Eclipse spoke evenly, making sure to read word for word.

"This day is a connection." Eclipse felt the rune light up with light, blazing as the room went completely dark. "I bind us. Mine is yours. under this light, we become connected." Eclipse lost his breath after these words of the spell, making him choke a bit as he could feel Solar's energy binding to his own, coughing to get air as he could feel his mind breaking in half, body feeling aches and pains as Solar's energy was bonding to him.

Eclipse lurched forward, nauseous as he felt Solar's AI blooming into his head, using the broken-off half of Eclipse's mind, their mind? Eclipse didn't know but he was nauseous. Animatronics weren't supposed to get nauseous. He leaned with his hands on the ground, hearing someone screaming. Was that him? Was he screaming? He still had to say the final words and get Solar to say them too.

Eclipse reached his energy into his mind, making Solar take half control with him, each having control of one half of their? body. Eclipse fed the final words into their vision to make Solar say it with him. Once Solar nodded using their head Eclipse nodded back.

"We claim the energy of the solar eclipse given to us." Both of their voices echoed and the pitch-black void of the room glowed with a peace around them, the white ring around them calmly pulsing with their energies. Eclipse finally felt a peace now as he curled up on the ground, trembling with everything that had happened, too overwhelmed to move but he had to finish it. He had to finish this. He fed to Solar in their optics the final step and words.

Solar was the one to drag their body upright again. Eclipse was shivering, Solar was shivering. The room felt cold. Everything felt cold. Solar seemed to have more force than Eclipse, Solar was learning how to share their energy.

"We undo the damage that has been done through false trust." They made sure to echo each other and Eclipse felt a bloom in his chest of the energy they claimed from the solar eclipse above in the sky still, the ring around them, practically burst into a running visual of universes coming back into being, rebuilding themselves, lives being brought back immediately, everything blooming around them in the circle of light like flowers.

Eclipse gave a soft, exhausted chuckle seeing it and seeing the sky begin to get light again. Once the ring around them finished, the warm feeling slowly dissipated and Eclipse and Solar simply collapsed onto the ground, shaking and taking deep breaths.

"Thank you." Solar whispered.

"I know." Eclipse tried to laugh but all that came out was a wheeze.

"Are you okay?" Solar asked.

"I'm exhausted." Eclipse whispered back.

"Well, you gave up your magic to bring everything back, you're probably going to be exhausted for a while." Solar sighed.

"I expect Moon to thank me, you tell him that if you wake up first." Eclipse told Solar before letting himself ease into unconsciousness, giving Solar control for a brief moment before Solar fell asleep too from being brought back and losing a lot of energy himself.

[softie00]

TO THE MOON 🌙

pairing; lee know x reader

warnings; fluff, established relationship, minho is away so long distance, bunch of texting and calls, reader feeling a bit upset, lil angst, crack, brat reader, humour, teasing, minho showing appreciation, love gestures, images, use of jagi, birthday wishes and a surprise.

words; 2k+

a/n enjoy for whoevers birthday that comes by❣

summary; it's your birthday, minho asked what you wished to have only for you to ask for something which is quite the impossible, or is it not when you have such a considerate lover?

[Minho💜] how are you feeling jagi?

[Minho💜] omg it's your birthday soon!!!

[Minho💜] im going to make sure im the first person to wish you ok

You smiled as you glanced at the text messages your boyfriend Minho was sending right now, it was your birthday in a few hours and you couldn't wait to get wished by him.

[You] just missing you babe 🥺 wish u was here

[You] hehe you better be 😤 or else

[Minho💜] we'd be seeing each other tommrow finallyyy then i can wish you properly, hug kiss you and everything

You bite your lip, you cannot wait for it either. It's been way to long without his presence.

[Minho💜] ofc baby how could i forget my precious jagi's birthday?

You're grinning in excitment at the thoughts of Minho finally arriving and immediately rushing to hug you tight. His kisses which you miss very dearly will soon be on your skin.

[You] I've missed you so much minho I can't wait 💗 ur so cute

Delivered

God it's been so long since you both have met up, his busy schedule unfortunately requires him to be out of the states often leaving to you both just texting, face time and phone calls.

Though lately it's been a bit less. And you know he's busy. It's not fair to blame him but sometimes you just miss having Minho near you, where you can wrap yourself in to his arms.

You're more excited about seeing your boyfriend than anything else, really. But seeing him say these words warm up your heart and reduce any negative thoughts you've had.

He loves you. He does. He says it everyday without doubt.

You remember one time Felix slyly captured a picture of Minho looking completely immersed through his phone screen late at night.

And when Felix peeked up and see what was keeping his attention, oh it was you.

[Felix] yo y/n

[Felix] ur man is whipped

[You] ??

[You] what happened now

[Felix] he's looking at pics of both of u

[Felix] before he goes to sleep what a sap

image.1

[Felix] don't tell him I told u

[You] omg...

[You] that's so cute ??

After that thanks to Felix, you realised how deeply Minho loves you. Not that he doesn't say it, of course he does. But there are moments where he sometimes shows love in other ways which only makes you endear him more. And ofcourse Minho got teased for it by the members which made him fluster.

All you could think of during that time is how badly you want to be near him. To hold him, touch him, cuddle him. To tell him how loved he is with your gentle kisses. Your poor little heart couldn't stop looking at that image sent, to know your boyfriend religiously looks at your images/videos together before he falls asleep, making your heart melt.

To know after his long scheduled days he still finds time for you. Minho always made sure he did, you was his life. His routine starts with you and finishes with you, despite the distance. If only you knew how much energy he gets just by seeing your angelic face.

His worries all wash away. Having a bunch of dance choreographys to do and memorise can become very challenging some days more than others, however during those moments he turns his phone screen on and looks at his wallpaper of the two of you for ease.

As you watch the time tick closer to 12, some thoughts creep back in. Will he be the first to wish you? What if he falls asleep since it's so late there? The constant thoughts begin to form. He didn't reply back to your last message, so what if he has gone to sleep.

If only things were different and the two of you were in close proximity right now.

You sighed whilst watching the time, it's already 11.59pm yet no sign of any message from Minho at all.

Maybe he has gone to sleep.

You know he's always over working, right?

He barely catches a break.

It's okay, it's okay. He can do it tommrow morning too. Even that works.

You muttered to yourself, trying to convince yourself for the lack of response. But you won't lie how it would upset you when he mentioned he would do it.

Already you felt sick of your thoughts constantly watching the screen. You took a deep breath, closing your phone screen whilst you leave it on the table.

Just as you try to walk off and shift your mind, until your phone rings.

Incoming call Minho💜

You immediately jump. Your heart is speeding at the sudden ringing. He called. At exactly 12am. Letting out a little, no loud squeak as you jump around the room. You finally try to calm yourself down with some breaths.

Moving your thumb over to accept the call and talk, Minho has started already singing away.

"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday my precious darling lovely angel Y/N, happy birthday to youuuuu." Minho managed to whip out despite having the others in his room, which all you could think of is how deep his voice sounds, smiling away.

God, your heart still is pacing fast. Thanks to Minho's sweet but deep voice during this time for making you heated.

"Minho, thank you s-so so m-much." You stuttered, feeling so much overwhelmed at this given moment. However, Minho can tell there's a bit of hesitance to your words. "Y/N is everything okay?" He asks genuinely.

How are you meant to tell him that you thought he wouldn't wish you, feeling like you sound stupid, you huffed, scratching the side of your neck, "N-Nothing babe it's just silly.."

"Nothing is silly, tell me jagi."

"Well I don't even know what to say," you chuckled, "I guess I miss you very much Minho. And because these days we speak a bit less, I thought maybe you won't wish me tonight."

Minho instantly felt his heart sank at your words. Unfortunately with their new album and releases, he's had less time to be talking and he wishes he could just change that and return to you.

"I'm so sorry precious, but I love you. Even if I had to stop my work in order to wish you, I would. I could careless about that stuff, I care about you."

You felt a slight tear drop down, screw your hormones for feeling extra emotional today. You speak up slowly, "Thank you for being so sweet Minho." You try to lighten to mood up, "But that was proven wrong when I heard my phone ring and I just ended up jumping around like crazy-"

"Fuck how cute can you get?" He laughs, imagining you just looking cute as ever jumping around. "Now tell me, was I the first to wish you?" He asks cockily, he loves to be the first that does everything with you.

"Yes babe." You excitedly answer.

You can't see his smile but he is smiling, real hard right now.

"That's good, because I wanted to be the first to wish you and tell you how amazing you are, how blessed I am to have you in my life. You make my life, Y/N. Morning and night all I think of is you. Your cute giggles, your beautiful smile that can turn a bad day to good. Having your arms around my waist while you cutely snuggle. Your mind, your laughter, your presence. Everything about you Y/N, is special."

God, you feel like tearing up again. You sometimes think what you did to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend who cares about you so much and always reassuring you.

"Minho, you're going to make me cry for being this cute." You whined, voice becoming softer.

"I know, you're upset I'm not there right now but Y/N, I promise I will be there soon. God I can't wait to take you out to different places and feed you, buy you gifts and give you all my love and kisses." He expresses with love, as he thoughts of tommrow come seeing you all cute and dressed up for him.

"Ughhhh im so excited, I just need you right now babe," You whined cutely. You cannot wait for it all either, to be with the love of your life and spend your lovely day.

"Me too Y/N, but still is there any gift you'd like to have?" He asks gently, Which makes you ponder and maybe you do want to tease him a little too.

"Can I get anything?" You raised a brow.

"Of course love. Anything you want." He affirms, only for you to tease him.

You responded, "Hmmm, can you get me the moon?" As you bit your bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Minho felt slight confusion at your wish, "The moon?"

"With my name on it." You proposed. "Saying Y/N is the best."

Minho cackled as his hand brushes past his hair, "Baby I don't think that's possible to get. It's beyond our reach." He explains on, only for you to stay stuck on it.

"But you said you'd get me anything I want!"

Honestly you live for teasing your boyfriend a lot. If only you could see his face right now, you'd burst out. So you continue further.

"Yes but unfortunately I'm not that financially stable to get that for you, Y/N." He sighs cutely. I mean, if he was a billionaire then sure that could be sorted.

"Hmmm, they always said if he wanted to he would," You frowned as you roll your eyes playfully. And maybe it worked, because all he's doing right now is twirling his soft hair thinking thoughts.

"Y/N you're so stubborn babe," He groans feeling defeated.

But suddenly replies, "Actually give me a minute or 2 I'd be back."

Oh? Did you perhaps say something wrong? Did someone wake up? Did you take it too far?

Maybe you shouldn't have said this when it's so late in time for him.

Which made you quickly try to redeem yourself, "Minho i was just joking babe." But you find yourself with no response at all.

A minute seems like eternity when you're overthinking but thankfully you're able to hear some shuffling now from his end which means he's still around.

30 seconds

60 seconds

Still nothing.

God, why was you feeling so nervous all of a sudden? You start to walk around your room, trying to wait and think of what Minho could possibly be doing.

Why is time suddenly moving so slow?

The nerves got you biting your nails, phone placed against your ears waiting for Minho voice already.

2 minutes passed. Nothing. You walk around in circles, until your ears perked up at his deep voice.

"Check your messages right now," He ordered, returning back only to make you feel even nervous. Now it's gotten you thinking what could it be.

"I'm scared now" You slightly giggle as you bite your nail but Minho was reassuring you once again. "Don't be baby, just check."

"Alright."

You start to flick through your phone and opened up your text message thread between you both, only to be left stunned.

[Minho💜]

[Minho] ahhhh jagi I'm in space

[Minho] this is so fun

[Minho] wait let me focus

You looked at the texts sent and felt so confused, trying to decipher his messages.

[You] babe what's going on ??

[You] im confused

[You] minho are u drunk

Minho typing...

[Minho] no im not drunk!!

[Minho] wait

[Minho] img.3

[Minho] im there jagi

[Minho] damn im floating this is so cool

The way you just burst in to a laughter fit. Minho always had a funny sense of humor but this was absolutely hilarious. What even is this game, you thought.

[You] omg why are u like this

[You] babe I'm laughing so hard u look so cute in that fit

[Minho] because someone decided to be a brat 🤨

[Minho] thank u jagi, i look pretty handsome dont i

[You] excuse meeee

[Minho] just got hit on the head by an asteroid

[You] HAHAHAHA

[Minho] u think this is funny??

[Minho] i am suffering

[You] karma sweetie 😘 maybe it'll help u think straight

[Minho] how dare youuu

[Minho] are u implying im stupid

You giggled as you continue poking fun at your boyfriend, he's just so cute.

[You] yes stupid

Minho is typing...

[You] stupid for me <33

[Minho] brat

[Minho] im getting closer to the moon now, had a fight off with jupiter

[You] oh really babe

[You] did u win

[Minho] ofcourse I am on a mission for my jagi i gotta fight for you 😤

[Minho] img.6

[Minho] ha beat his ass

[You] where is the moon then

[Minho] patience jagi

[Minho] don't be a brat

[You] hehe I'm waiting ❣ patiently

[Minho] good girl

You cheeks flared at the pet name, waiting for more details on your boyfriend's little adventure.

[Minho] ahhhhhhh

[Minho] went thru so much to get this 🥲 u ready?

[You] im ready

You don't really know what he was asking you for, playing along with him as he continues only be be left rather surprised.

[Minho] img.5

He did not.

Your mouth opened wide in shock, eyes bulged out in admiration what's on your screen. A gush of wind almost pushing you away, having to maintain composure with a hand on the table for support. Your face flushed in heat whilst you smiled, ears turning red. You was gasping for air, as the jolt flew all around your body.

You can't believe Minho just, did that.

As your still lost in daze, your phone is making a bunch of sounds which was the only thing to snap you back into reality. The vibrations along with your own, your shakey hands places the phone back on your ear.

"You told me to fetch the moon so I fought with the stars, I brought it with your name written across." He continued on speaking already causing you to burst. Your boyfriend was this romantic? "Since your my moon, will you help me find the way back to your heart?" He flirts, causing you to have one massive meltdown.

You gasped so hard with a fluttering heart, "Fuck fuck, Minho I'm so lost for words- my god. This is so... wow... I can't even begin to express the words.. you did this? For me?" your voice getting soft in fondness for the gift. Not only do you feel butterflies but the entire zoo. You're visibly shaken, a hand creeping over your mouth.

You've never had anyone do this. Never anyone who went out their way to do such sweet gesture. This was probably the most wholesome gift you've had. Not thinking your boyfriend just playing a random game would be so sweet?

And that's why Minho left you for a little whlle. He wanted to give you this joy out of love. God, he only had wished he could get the moon itself.

He grins, "Of course Y/N, it's your birthday and your wish is my command jagi.''

"I was just being a brat babe." You sighed quietly, only being playful with him not expecting anything at all.

"And i like it when you're being a brat," he truthfully answered, making you instantly feel flustered. "So did you like it?"

"Liked is an understatement because this just made me fall for you a thousands times more than I ever did, really Minho. I'm so fucking happy yet shocked- this is perfect the most wholesome gift I've received, i am so so grateful to have such a considerate partner."

Minho tugged his ear, you was just as amazing he thinks. But he wanted to tease you, "You better be, my head still hurts getting hit ahhhh." He whines loudly, making you laugh at his dramatic side.

"I am very very happy" you continue before placing the phone above your lips sending a kiss, "Here's a kiss for your cute head." If only you saw the way he was grinning right now, scratching his head.

And that's what he wanted, to see you so so happy that you never feel any kind of emotion except happiness. He felt satisfied knowing you liked the gift.

"Good, because i'm so happy that you're happy babe. You deserve this and so much more. God I wish I could get the actual-"

You quickly interrupted him because what could be better than this? "Nope, babe this is the best thing ever ok? I love you so much Minho, thank you for everything you do." You expressed wholeheartedly.

A smile crept on to his face, feeling the warmth of your love, "You're wonderful Y/N, so cute and kind. I love you." He professed.

"To the moon?" You giggle.

"And back."

do not copy, plagiarise translate my works or ideas. copyright ©2023 softie00

[paintingpuff]

Ooh the backstory for the comic sounds so cool! Could you maybe post the short story?

Sure, I'll put it under the cut!

Keep in mind the comic is an adaptation so the story had to go through some changes.

File info says this was made during quarantine which definitely explains why I can't remember writing it

My sister--and most people in our village, in fact--think that my child is not my own. One would assume it was because of the incident a month after my daughter’s birth, where I walked into her room only to find a fairy flying out the window, a bundle in her arms. 

But that’s not why my sister thinks my daughter is fae, because I didn’t tell anyone about that incident. Instead, my sister says it’s because my child is acting odd. It’s a logic I can’t understand, since all children are strange to me. 

I love the way they approach the world with a mix of naivete and eagerness. I’ve even met children that don’t realize that a scrape or scratch is supposed to hurt until you look alarmed. They have no understanding of common sense, because everything they do is for the first time in their life. They’re honest, harsh, and innocent in a manner that is gradually clogged up with new responsibilities and knowledge as they grow older.

Their world is limited, and as such they completely permeate it. It’s fragile and destructive in a way I don’t think can be replicated, not after that window of early childhood has passed.

I see it in every child, and my daughter does not seem any more unusual. But my sister insists that there is a difference, and shakes her head whenever she thinks it’s relevant. 

 My child has broken the table. Not much, she just jumped on the top one too many times and its leg splintered. I’m not going to get it replaced, or get it fixed, or at least not immediately.

She got in a fight with some other children in town, they said something that she just couldn’t understand and she lashed out with a stick. The other kid only had a red mark on his skin from the impact, at least. 

My daughter hates being around others, and spends most of her time back home, where it’s quiet. I once tried taking her to the market and she broke down crying, sitting in the middle of the road. I consoled her there, crouching in the dirt path, and tried ignoring the judgemental stares from people passing by. She would rather spend hours on end at the edge of the forest. I don’t let her explore on her own, and when I’m gone the others say she always stands just before the trees become too dense and stares off, wistfully.

She’s a picky eater, but a very hungry one. I can’t find a consistent set of taste, and each new meal feels like a gamble of my time, but I have to take those chances because I can’t have her eating only eggs and milk for each meal of the day.

She doesn’t like being touched, reacts to my fingers as if they’ve given her rashes, and for the longest time I felt lost because I didn’t know how else to comfort her. 

(I found my ways eventually. When she gets upset, I take my grandmother’s woolen scarf from its rack and wrap her in it. She loves running her hands along the threads.)

After long days of gathering food and walking from errand to errand I’m woken up in the middle of the night by her, and we both struggle to go back to sleep from her nightmares. When she was a baby she wailed as loud as she could, because she knew doing that would bring me to her. Now I’m afraid that I won’t hear her and she’ll think I left her alone on purpose. My friends comment on the bags under my eyes always getting darker. I know they’re trying to remind me that it’s a bad thing.

They call her a changeling, something that has replaced my real baby. The child I gave birth to is out in those woods, the stories say, maybe dancing with fairies or being sacrificed to the devil. But in the meantime, they say I am left with a parasitical replica, a creature that saps me of my energy, food and time. 

I sometimes wonder if they’ve ever had a child before.

I do my best to brush off the people in town, but my sister is more insistent. I know she’s just being protective since my husband’s passing, but something snapped in me with the way she spoke. I yelled that the stories of the fae were all hogwash, and she asked me how I could be so sure. So I told her the truth:

I had already seen the fairy.

I had returned home early from the market, and had seen my daughter sitting at the edge of the forest, like always. Her hand was raised to the air, a single finger stretched parallel to the ground. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, and I was about to head back inside and prepare dinner, when I saw a flicker of movement. 

A tiny sparrow emerged from behind a tree, and settled on my daughter’s finger.

It was difficult to see her face from my angle, but just from the outline of her cheeks I could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. The bird whistled to her, and the child gave a raspy, unpracticed melody in response. She moved her hand around carefully, not wanting to startle the bird, but a part of me knew that something as simple as a jolt wouldn’t make the bird go away. 

The bird was only there for a few minutes before it took off and vanished back into the forest. So my child sat up, stained in green but not caring, and ran back to the house. I entered shortly afterwards, acting casual. She didn’t know I saw her, and she didn’t tell me about the bird then, so I can only wonder how many times the bird had come before. 

Still, gradually the two of us came to a common understanding: she figured out I knew about the bird,  and I knew that she knew.

I hadn’t fully realized we’d had this agreement until my daughter stepped into my house, sharp distress twisting her face. She raised her tiny fingers to show blood spilled on them, but not from any wound of her own. She told me the bird had been missing feathers, had perched on her finger with only one leg, and its song was weaker than before. Her bird calls had already greatly improved, so she imitated the bird’s pained song for me, just to make sure I understood.

She wanted to follow the bird into the woods, see that it’s alright. I crouched down with the scarf, wrapped her in it, and told her that I would find the bird myself. 

So I wandered through the dark woods, the sun already starting to set, a torch in hand and a cloak on my shoulders. I heard a whistling in the woods, and the melody rangs familiar. The bird was still singing, and it didn't sound any weaker, but my daughter has always been more attentive to details; I trusted her. 

I kept walking, kept following the bird, and for brief flickers in the treetops I saw flaps of wings. It was flying slower than usual. It ducked behind a tree, and when I stepped around to keep my eye on the bird, I saw a child. 

It was not my child, but another little girl of a similar age, one with brown hair closer to my own than my daughter’s fiery red. Patterns were dotted across her arms like that of a sparrow’s wings, but her skin was also spotted with bruises and scratches, twigs and leaves and mud in her hair and stuck to her body. She didn't seem to be in pain, and I wondered if anyone had told her that those scratches are supposed to hurt. She hugged the tree, perhaps as a shield or perhaps as comfort. 

I crouched down, and kept my voice quiet. “Hello.”

She stepped back a little, keeping her eyes off of me. 

“Are you the one who plays with my daughter?”

More silence. I swallowed, my throat already dry. “She considers you a very good friend.”

“She’s my best friend.”

The girl’s voice was rough and unused, but that similar constriction in my chest came when I heard it, and I fully realized that this is just another kid I was talking to. I told her what people call me. The girl gave no response, but I could tell that she was relaxing. 

“Are you a fairy?”

The girl nodded. “I can turn into a bunch of different animals.”

“Oh? Like what?” 

“A cat, and....a dog, and, uh...I’m a sparrow a lot.”

“Do you like flying around?”

To my surprise, the girl shook her head. She told me she likes landing on my daughter’s finger. “I like singing with her,” she said. 

I asked her why she doesn’t transform into different animals to do so much more, and the girl looked at me with the most genuine and honest confusion I’ve seen. She didn’t understand the other options, because this was the only one that mattered to her. Her scope was so small, but she embraced it so wholly that I couldn’t be upset. “Are your injuries okay?” I asked instead. 

There was a slight bob of her head, one I almost didn’t see in the dark. “They’ll get healed up.” She pointed over her shoulder to a small ring of mushrooms behind her. I know a fairy circle when I see one, and I nodded in understanding. I left her to vanish in the fog of that forest. 

I returned home to my daughter and told her the bird is okay, and will come again tomorrow. She didn’t make a relieved expression or gesture, but gave a very quiet and polite “Thank you,” so I know that she was grateful. 

Some of the townsfolk think I’ve had my real child switched with an anomaly, a magic changeling. When I first met the bird, I thought that perhaps she was the changeling that was supposed to replace my child.

But whenever the bird appeared again, I made sure to leave some bread and milk for her, as well as leave our window open, in case she ever needed to rest at our home. My child came to me, wanting to sew a pillow for the bird to sleep on. The snacks I left out became more and more elaborate, from a small bit of porridge to pieces of a cake. Some days I would wake in the morning early enough to see that bird curled up in the roughly made pillow of my daughter’s.

I didn’t even think twice before I moved the pillow to my child’s room, setting it next to her head. I watched her and the bird snore peacefully, and I watched as the bird’s feathers slowly retracted and its silhouette expanded in the faint morning light. 

It wasn’t until I saw the two children, holding each other tightly under the warm blankets and roof of their shared house, did I realize that both I and the townsfolk were wrong. 

No child of mine had been replaced, nor were they meant to. I simply had two daughters.

[roguelov]

Relax

Summary: After a exhaustive day, Dream decided to relax with a soothing bath, however thoughts of you soon gave him a new outlet to relax

Word Count: ~1.1k

Reader: Gender Neutral

Warnings: SMUT (masturbation, blow job)

A lovely fanart visual here

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

Rushing water filled up the ornate porcelain tub. Steam filtered through the air. Its dew clung to any and all surfaces, from the large mirror fogging it to Dream’s skin. If there was time - or patience - oils and certain flowers may have been poured and scattered into the water. However, this wasn’t such an occasion.

Shutting off the water, Dream sighed, removing his robe.

It had been a long day, far, far too long of a day. The Dreaming demanded everything from him, sapping all of his time and energy. His mind had become muddled, and his movement unbelievably sluggish. He only wished to relax, only wished to let go even if for a few glorious minutes.

He dipped into the hot water, groaning at the sensation. His muscles instantly relaxed. He sank down inch by inch as his body sighed in blissful relief. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift. It moved through the current of today, remembering what he had done and unfortunately what he needed to complete tomorrow. His face quickly twisted in frustration. He buried such thoughts for now, he didn’t wish to dwell on his impending responsibilities.

No, he wanted something else.

Someone else.

His mind drifted to you, his love. He hadn’t seen you all day, but that was mostly his fault. Perhaps tomorrow he could find time to visit you in the Waking.

He hummed, already loving the idea.

He was already imagining your bright kind smile, and how it made your eyes crinkle. He imagined how your arms would curl around his waist as you kissed his back and shoulder, just as you always greeted him on any other exhausting day.

“What does my sweet king need?” You would murmur into his ear.

“You.” He would reply.

He would drag you to bed and pull you close. Your hands would immediately play with his hair, or draw random shapes down his spine and back. His cheek would rest on your chest, inhaling deeply. Your heartbeat would soothe him, and he would sink into a well needed rest.

But, there were other times.

Time in which you would guide him to bed with such a gleeful, and mischievous, smile.

“Let me take care of you,” you would whisper.

Laying in the tub, his cock greedily twitched at such memories.

You gently pushed Dream onto the bed. His knees hit the edge, and he flopped backwards. The large bed, and silken sheets, happily welcomed him. His eyes were trained on you, watching you with such hunger and want. His heart sang as you sank to your knees before him. Your hands ran over his thighs, humming softly.

“Relax, my king,” you purred. “I will take care of you.”

You bent forward and kissed his thighs. Soft and sweet, yet teasing and playful. Your lips trailed further up to the tent growing in his pants. Your eyes flickered up, catching his. Watching him through the top of your lashes, you slowly kissed his bulge, listening to his breathy sighs.

Dream groaned.

Unable to help himself, his hand wandered down his body. His fingers wrapped around his hardening cock. Slowly, he pumped himself, feeling himself get stiffer. He hissed out in pleasure.

Maybe this was what he truly needed instead.

His pants and boxers had been discarded, tossed haphazardly onto the floor. Your hands skimmed up and down his thighs which were now adorn in your love bites. Your fingers delicately traced the bruises, watching Dream flinched and squirmed.

His cock was hard - red and swollen - and most of all waiting for you. Precum dripped down. You licked your lips at such a sight.

It was truly so enticing.

“Love,” he croaked out. “Please -“

Your fingers slowly wrapped around him. He moaned, bucking into your hand. You chuckled, “I told you, my king, I would take care of you. And I intend to.”

Dream dropped his head back against the tub. He wished it was your hands, and your lips on him instead. Only you knew how to draw out such dizzy desires. His hand wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for now. His head tipped forward, watching as he pumped his cock. Bits of water splashed around at his greedy movements.

He whimpered faintly, and your name tumbled off his lips.

Oh, what a sight.

Your lips wrapped so perfectly around him. He tried desperately not to buck his hips again, yet you took him so well. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat.

You hummed.

Dream moaned loudly, only you could bring out such noises from him. It was the only time he would allow himself to be so loud, and to lose a fraction of his control. Smirking, your tongue dragged along the base of his cock across a thick vein then swirled around his tip. His hand flew down, tangling into your hair. “My dear,” he whined.

Again, he wanted to say. Don’t stop, please. Yet, it was all lodged in his throat. He could barely think or speak.

Your smirk widened, you understood him perfectly. Only two words, and you heard his unspoken pleas.

Dream worked himself faster. His back arched against the porcelain tub, moaning out to the quiet room.

“Fuck,” he hissed.

He bucked up into his hand, his composure was cracking. He wouldn’t last much longer, nor did he care to. He was desperate for his release, desperate to let go.

“Come on, Dream, let go,” you whispered.

You took him in your mouth again. Your tongue swirled, tasting every inch of him. Dream jerked his hips up. You hummed, encouraging him. He groaned as a few curses slipped past his lips. He tightened his grip on your hair, and began to fuck your face. You moaned against him, loving when he lost the last ounce of his control. It was a rarity only you drew out.

“My dear,” he groaned. He yanked on your hair, making you moan again. “I’m close.”

You grabbed Dream’s thighs. Your nails scratched down in lovely red ribbons. Scratches and bites ruined his perfect thighs. You relaxed your jaw, letting Dream use you. You hummed again, swirling your tongue all around him.

‘Let go,’ you thought.

Dream came all over his hand, and into the now chilly water. He panted heavily, and slumped against the tub. He exhaled, closing his eyes.

“You did wonderful, my sweet king,” you purred. Spit and cum dripped down your swollen lips.

He opened his eyes, staring up to the ceiling. The image of you - with your enticing smirk and wicked tongue - burned brightly. He quickly got up out of the tub. After a long day, he needed to relax. Just like you always said. So, perhaps a visit to you will satiate the monster he has now unleashed. Maybe afterwards, he will be able to collapse down for the night.

[modelbus]

I really liked your last Ranboo post ! It’s so cute and funny :))

For the event could I request cc!Dream with a Band AU and the word Sweetheart ? It seems like a good combo and it’s funny considering the droncerts xD

Have fun writing and ily /p

Calling them droncerts still makes me laugh so much

Pairing: Cc!Dream x Gn!Reader

Band AU - Sweetheart

You knew the image the two of you presented.

Dream’s arm around your shoulders, his breath in your hair, your shoulder wedged against his chest. It was casual, but the media called it everything but that. It didn’t bother you much: the media liked to put Dream with every member of the band.

Besides, if you were forced to go to parties for publicity reasons then you might as well be comfortable. And Dream just happened to be a good pillow. Who would sue you for that?

Across the room, you watch as Sapnap—your drummer, and a man with more energy than anyone should ever have—sinks a ping pong ball into a red solo cup. Beer pong, a game you’d never be conned into playing with him. He was simply too good at party games like that, and you didn’t enjoy being drunk nearly as much as everyone else seemed to.

Stood next to him, watching, was George. He mostly played the keyboard for the band, although you knew he also worked with Dream to help plan the lightshows and effects. How he got dragged into Sapnap’s bad idea, you didn’t know. That’s usually how it went; Sapnap would drag him into something, he’d get invested, and they’d create chaos wherever they went.

That left two more members of the band. One being you, obviously, the resident guitarist. The other being the guy draped over you, your favorite vocalist.

“You put money on this one?” Dream asks you, practically murmuring it into your ear. When you shift to glance at his face, he’s watching Sapnap and George. His eyes flicker down to you, sparkling, then he goes back to the game of beer pong.

“Not this one.” You finally answer, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Nasty habit. “I should’ve. We could’ve made bank off Sap.”

“Don’t we?” He jokes cheekily.

Before you can respond, maybe with a quip about all the merch Sapnap loves to suggest, someone drops into the chair next to the couch you’re on. You go to lift your head from Dream’s shoulder, but his hand shifts to press your head back down.

“You guys are in that band, right? That real popular one?” The stranger asks. Some blond guy, shit-eating grin and a gold chain on. Not to mention the baseball cap backwards on his head.

“Yeah.” Dream confirms for the both of you.

“Damn, you guys are, like, everywhere right now.” He squints at the two of you, like you’re some puzzle. “Didn’t know you were dating. Don’t really pay attention to that gossip shit.”

Before you can even open your mouth to correct the guy, Dream interrupts with an easy smile. And if you thought he’d correct him, you were very wrong.

“Yeah.” He simply says.

You drive your elbow into Dream’s side as retaliation, but his smile only grows. You hate this band, you swear.

“Could I get, like, a pic? And an autograph? I’m no fan, just my… uh… brother… is.” The stranger looks eager, and you sigh. He definitely doesn’t have a brother, he just wants to sell the autograph online and use the picture for likes.

“Of course, man.” Dream nods, but makes no move to straighten up or look any better for the picture. You laugh quietly, deciding to stay put too.

The stranger pulls out his phone, aiming it at the two of you, and it’s only after he doesn’t move to get in the photo that you realize he doesn’t want to be in it. God, how see-through can one person be? He could’ve at least tried to play it off.

This is exactly why you hate these fucking parties. The next time your manages demands you go to one, you’re never going to accept.

“Say cheese!” The guy practically shouts, staring at your unsmiling face.

“Smile, sweetheart.” Dream whispers to you, quiet so only you can hear.

It sends shivers down your spine, his tone of voice. But you smile at the camera, holding it just long enough for the dude to snap his photo.

“Sweet! Let me grab a paper for you two to sign!” He says excitedly, hurrying off.

“He isn’t even trying to hide it.” You complain to Dream immediately.

He snorts, nodding. “Pathetic. Let’s go before he gets back?”

You brighten at the idea of escaping the party. Maybe he’ll finally let you help him design the light show.

“With you? Anytime.”

[starlightshadowsworld]

The New Hopper Part 6

"Guess I can’t play pinball for a while" sighed Vance.

He was staring at the bandage around his knuckles and trying and failing to keep himself from feeling ashamed. It wasn’t like it was the first time this had happened. All the boys had moments when they were seemingly transported to the past, stripped off their new identity and rendered scared teenagers in that damned basement. "I dunno, I’ve seen you play with worse." Said Finney and Vance chuckled despite himself. He knew exactly what Finney was referring too.

"I only did that cause my high score was in danger of being being beaten. I had to defend my honour." Vance argued as Finney shook his head amused. They were both sat on a sofa in Hoppers teeny living room, practically squished together but it was a comfort to them both. 

It taken a while for Vance to come back into himself. It had taken even longer for him to make it out the basement, all his energy sapped from him and even now he seemed tired. But none of the boys slept well when this happened, too afraid to close their eyes and return to the Grabbers lair. And Vance was no exception, he had relaxed but his fears laid right below the surface. 

He hadn’t let go of Finney since he’d helped him out from under the bed.

He hadn’t let anyone else bandage his hand. 

"Who’s defending whose honour?" Asked Robin, walking in followed by El and Hopper. She looked at Vance and somehow silently asked if it was okay for them all to join him. Vance nodded and was surprised to see that they were all carrying mugs of hot chocolate. Robin placed his and Finney’s in front of them and sat beside them both.

"Vance said he can’t play pinball for a while now. Even though I remember him showing up in crutches and a broken wrist once to go ‘defend his high score.’ And then beat up the kid that dared challenge him." Explained Finney expertly avoiding a swat from Vance as he did so.

"And I said it was a matter of importance" grumbled Vance. "What’s pinball?" Asked El and Finney wishes he had a camera to capture the look on Vance’s face. He’d never seen his friend so speechless in his life before lighting up like a firework and explaining in a surprising amount of detail to his cousin the epic highs and lows of pinball. 

For her part El seemed very confused but also intrigued. It probably helped that this was the most excited Vance had been since leaving the Byers house. Even Hopper was paying close attention, a small smile on his face at getting to hear Vance talk about something he was passionate about.

"Please tell me this place has a pinball machine" asked Vance once he was done. "I think there’s one at the arcade but I don’t think anyone uses it much" said Robin making Vance grin wickedly. "Then once my hand is in back in perfect shape I’ll show you the ropes kid."

El smiled "I would like that, thank you" she wasn’t sure what ropes were involved but if it made her cousin happy she would learn. "Well as nice as that is, for now you have gotta go to bed" said Hopper, El pouted but she was very tired from everything that happened. And she could tell Vance was too so she reluctantly agreed and bid everyone.

"I’ll be off too. Im guessing none of you are up to addressing this today" said Hopper looking at Vance who froze at the thought. 

He would rather never talk about any of this at all. But Vance knew he couldn’t avoid it forever, at least he didn’t have to deal with it for now. Hopper nodded, not needing to Vance to say his answer since it was clear on his face. "Right, well if you need me you know where you are. There’s no way you’re sleeping down there, the sofa’s not the best place to sleep but we can switch it for tonight." Said Hopper, unfortunately there weren’t much options.

" Vance could stay with me. Until the living room gets sorted out" said Finney thought it definitely felt like a statement than a suggestion. There was no way in hell that Finney was letting Vance in a place he felt so uncomfortable in and his house was already too big. And if he couldn’t bare the idea of leaving Vance alone right now that was their business alone. "Are you sure?" It broke Finney’s heart to hear Vance so unsure. It was just another reminder that his friend was not okay and it only filled Finney further to give him somewhere else to escape.

Vance might be playing it strong right now but he was hurting and it was plain for all to see.  Hopper considered the idea before agreeing. Vance clearly need some time away and while Hopper was worried about leaving his nephew go out, Hopper trusted that he was in the best of hands right now. "Alright if Vance is alright with it" Vance immediately agreed and it didn’t take long before Finney and Robin had grabbed his things for the night.

"I’ll call you guys tomorrow morning, try not to be up too late" said Hopper with a lecture that was incredibly heart hearted. "We won’t, thanks Hop" said Finney, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Hopper for what happened. It wasn’t like he knew what damage it would do to leave Vance in the basement. The whole evening Hopper had been listening carefully and trying to keep Vance feel safe in his home. Finney knew Hopper would never have tried to hurt Vance like this and he was sure that deep down Vance didn’t blame him either. He awkwardly said goodnight to his uncle and piled into Finney’s car with Finney and Robin. 

Other than some music the drive to Finney’s was in silence. 

It was then only than did Vance fall asleep in the car. His battle in keeping awake lost as the music and the relaxing atmosphere lulled him fast asleep. Finney just hoped it would stay like this for a while. He remembered days full of sleeping eyes when none of them could sleep and they’d get only the smallest fragments of time away from their nightmares could have them peace.

Finney stopped as he got to his house, he hated that Vance couldn’t get peace even now. How long would it be until those events would let them all feel peace again? When would Finney have to stop watching his friends fall into the grasp of memories, of watching himself lose himself to the horrors of both of his identities. Robin gently squeezed his hand, reminding him that maybe he didn’t know but at least he wouldn’t have to to do it alone.

And that was more than Finney could ask for as Finney Blake and Steve Harrington. The two of them managed to get Vance inside and all curled up in Finney’s giant bed. It reminded Finney of being back after everything, curled up with the rest of the boys and Vance for any sort of comfort. 

He bid goodnight to Robin and held his friends in his arms, hoping he could feel that same comfort he had before.