#dream of the endless love is the kind of love that break both people

[angelsonoah]

FATHER—

I failed my son and so you said

I loathed you and I wish you were dead

Father, even when you walked away I still love you

Even enraged and devastated I still do

Because the last time you caressed me

Part of you died here

And I carried them

I carried them with my teeth

Never letting go like a loyal dog

Always waiting

Waiting here

Until we meet again

Sandman Anniversary 2024 Day 1 Entry

SECRETS

@mr-sadman

[enwoso]

INVISIBLE STRINGS — alessia russo

*i started writing this and loved it then got bored by the end so sorry for the rushed ending:) but thank you for the love and support on my first post!!

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google would define invisible strings as a thread that connects two people who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or the circumstances. the thread may stretch or tangle but it never breaks.

you and alessia both truly believed you were a prime example of the invisible string theory.

the two of you always existing among each other but neither ever really acknowledged each other until later on when you were both older.

you lived on the same street as alessia growing up, only a few doors down, she was the blonde girl you would always see from afar playing in the park with her two older brothers as they blasted the ball at the young girl.

however she always gave back as good as she got.

you had even went to the same school, however she was in the year above you. there were plenty school photos with the two of you in only a few metres apart. walking past each other in the corridor every single day - not having an idea how important each other would become to be to the other in the future.

you had played football for the local team as did she. the blonde playing in offence taking any spot on the front line whereas you sat at the back and played in defence stopping the opposition from scoring.

that is how the two of you met, well kind of. you played for the same team but you two never really friends. it wasn’t that you didn’t like each other it’s just you never really spoke to one another bar the few words when necessary.

however you only played with each other for a few months before she moved onto a new local team. only seeing her now when your team would face her new team.

you both existed in the backgrounds of each others lives.

when you were sixteen, you were scouted by the arsenal's academy for the under seventeens teams, it took you a little time getting used to playing academy football and not the usual sunday league but after a few months you had found your feet and began to settle in.

you had one goal, the england youth squad. your family pushing you each day to try and help you achieve your goal however just a month before the squad announcement you tore your ACL at sixteen.

you were out of football for a year, endless days sat with a physio, in the gym just trying to get your knee to bend again like it once used to. watching from the sidelines as your friends in the academy got their calls up for the youth teams and how you wished it was you.

you felt as though you were fighting a battle you were never going to win, you were falling out of love with sport that you had played your entire life.

after three hundred and sixty two day you were finally allowed to play again, however your return it wasn't the fairy tale dream you had spent the past year dreamed about. you ended up spending a lot of time on the bench not playing as regular as you did before your injury and you spent many of those ninety minutes wondering why you were no longer good enough.

losing all your confidence in yourself and your ability to actually play football - you felt as though you had hit a brick wall. finding yourself some days where you didn't want to play football anymore.

but thankfully your family, mainly your dad, were not going to let you give up so easily on the talent that they had spent watching over the last ten years. your dad repeatedly telling you 'that you time would come'

and like the fairy tale you had dreamed about you slowly begun to get minutes again and fell back in love with sport all over again. forever thankful for your family for their support each day, for sometimes dragging you to training even when you had told them multiple of times that you were done and that you quit.

and you dad was right, your time did come. your hard work finally paid off and just after your nineteenth birthday you made your appearance for the arsenal first time - even bagging yourself an assist.

the next few season were spent learning and being loaned to another other club spending half a season at brighton when you were 20. but you saw it all as learning and a way of improving - you were getting minutes, plenty of clean sheets and you were working towards a new goal: the 2023 world cup.

you were back at arsenal and were a regular starter in the back line for arsenal and with that came your good from and finally your call up for england came as they were beginning their campaign to quality for the world cup in australia.

"are you excited?" leah asked swinging her arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the changing rooms, she had been a big mentor to you since you had came into the first team, along with helping you to improve your game. you could say you became her little prodigy.

the squad had just been announced on social media for the first time and hearing your name on the sheet of paper had you feeling something you could even begin to find the word to describe.

“yes.. but no, i’m a little nervous” you admitted with a small laugh as leah gave you a soft smile and a squeeze of the shoulders to reassure you.

“listen, you’ll be fine! just play with the passion you always have” she said as you nodded slowly, “plus you’ll have me, beth and jordan!” the blonde added as you playfully groaned, leah gasping and unthreading her arm from around your shoulders.

“i’m just kidding, you know i love you all” you smiled, as leah rolled her eyes as you reached the doors of the changing rooms, “i do kiddo! ..but i’m at the top of that list, right?”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, lee!”

leah was right - you were fine. while you didn’t get any starts in any of the games at your first camp, you did get some minutes as a sub which was more than you were expecting. but while sitting on the bench you did find yourself talking to a particular blonde.

“you said you were from kent, didn’t you?” alessia asked as you hummed, a puzzled look growing on your face as you waited for the blonde to carry on. your eyes were glued to the girls running around on the pitch as you sat on the bench with a bright orange bib over your jacket.

“me too! what part?” the blonde asked as you turned your head at the question being slightly caught off guard at the fact she was also from kent.

“um maidstone” you gave her a small smile, your attention turning back to the girls on the pitch as the ball was close to going into the back of the net. alessia gasping making you think she had seen something you had missed on the pitch as well as making you jump a little, “me too!”

you turned back to her, giving her a shocked look. confusion filling you as the two of you spent the rest of camp talking about each others childhood finding out your grew up on the same street as well as going to the same school.

when the next england camp rolled around, you and alessia had became even closer to the point you were counting down the days until you next saw each other.

short and sweet messages turned into hours and hours spent on facetime until the other fell asleep. friendly comments turned into subtle flirty ones and the touches turned to ones that lasted longer than friends and slowly you found yourself falling for the blonde.

the last england camp before the euros in the summer at home had finally arrived, you had arrived at st george’s park with beth and leah but before alessia.

you found yourself sitting patiently in the common room, like a lost puppy waiting for the blonde to walk through the door. the other girls chatting and playing cards in the background.

“kid, if you stare any longer at the doorframe your gonna burn a hole in it!” lucy teased as you glanced away from the doorway for the first time in a least thirty minutes, rolling your eyes at the teasing comment you moved your gaze to fix at watching leah try and beat beth’s high score on the basketball hoop game.

eventually after what felt at least a year to you and fifteen minutes to everyone else - the blonde walked through with ella, as she made a beeline for you as you wrapped her in a tight hug.

the two of you finding a rhythm and falling into a deep conversation about all the things you had forgotten to tell each other over the phone.

“so then me and ella had to stop, so i could get a coffee and she-“ alessia was in the middle of telling you a recount of her journey here before you interrupted her with a big gasp, jumping up out of your seat to find your phone quickly.

“what?” alessia asked as she watched you frantically search for your phone on the beanbag you were sitting on - finding it wedged under the beanbag.

“i have to show you this before i forget!” you said a grin on your face getting bigger with ever swipe your finger did on your phone screen. moving closer to the blonde, your shoulders touching as she peered over your own shoulder wondering what on earth you were about to show her and why was it such a big deal.

"look-" you moved your phone so that it was in her eye line and on your screen was a group school photo, "i don’t get it? what am i looking at?" the blonde asked her squinted her eyes trying to get a better look at the photo.

"there's me and.." you paused as she pointed to herself as a small gasp followed from her, "and there's me" alessia whispered, so quietly you also couldn't hear her. shock has consumed the blonde and you sat back with a smug smile as she examined the photo a little more.

"how’d you find this?" alessia asked as she turned her head back to you, handing you back your phone, "my mum sent me them,, there's more if you swipe across" you said beginning to swipe along your camera roll.

the two of you spent the next hour looking through the photos, some from school and others from your grassroots club, recounting each others side of the memories both of you in shock of how close you to were to each other growing but in reality how far you were to each other.

"we've literally been in the background of each other lives forever" alessia smiled as you nodded. "attached by an invisible string" you added.

the international camp came to an end and you both went back to your respective clubs, this time the two of you were making an effort to see each other without it being on a pitch or about football — so on your days off you went to see alessia and on her days off she came to see you.

your feelings for alessia were growing each time you saw her, her smile was infectious, her blue orbs were the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. but you didn't want to admit your feelings to her in case it ruined your friendship, plus why would she like you back, alessia sees you as a friend and a friend only.

or so you thought.

"less, why don't you just admit you have feelings for the girl!" ella said as she caught the blonde smiling at her phone knowing that she was messaging you.

"w-what" the blonde stuttered her phone dropping into her lap. "less, we can all see that you like her!" ella paused as alessia's cheeks tinted red, "except for y/n - but she definitely likes you too!"

"she does?"

"of course, everyone can see the way you both look at each other!" ella said bumping her shoulder with the older blonde as alessia gave her a small smile and nodded processing the information that had just been given to her.

before the euros came around in the summer alessia managed to make the first move taking you on the first date — a fancy dinner accompanied by going back to her apartment and spending the rest of the night cuddled into each other while watching a film.

the euros had come and you were back with alessia and the rest of the england girls. the tournament had been the best time of your life making unforgettable memories with the girls. slipping in a few dates with alessia when you two had some downtime.

you were just beginning to enter the second half of extra time the score being 1-1 in the final, yes the final at wembley. the little girl inside of you was buzzing with excitement, you couldn't believe you were going to get to play here. your whole family had made the trip to wembley, sitting proudly in the crowd.

it was england's chance to score, germany had conceded the corner. alex was hovering over it to take it as white shirts littered germanys penalty area.

the ball swing in as everyone jumped up, you watched alessia drop to the ground and then watched as chloe poked the ball into the back of the net. chloe running off to celebrate as the stadium erupted, as you all gathered around chloe celebrating.

all you had to do was hold on for the next ten minutes and the trophy was englands.

keeping the ball in the corner, desperately waiting for the final whistle to blow.

germany had one last chance but before it got into the final half the whistle blew, england where european champions.

running to the closest person near you which happened to be leah, engulfing her in a hug as the tears began to fall. "we did it!" you whispered as she hummed, the two of you sniffing and wiping your eyes and going off to celebrate with the others but your eye caught the sight of your favourite blonde moving toward her.

you don't know if it was the adrenaline of the win that was flowing or if you had finally just grew the confidence to say it but after months of dancing around your feelings for the blonde.

you ran up swinging your arm around her neck, as you both cheered before you faced her grabbing her hands, "less! will you be my girlfriend" you blurted out, clearly catching the blonde of guard as her head perked up, alessia thinking she had misheard you before nodding, "yes, a thousand time yes!" 

you smiled bringing the blonde in for a bear hug, not wanting to let go. enjoying her touch, it made you feel safe and loved. as she pulled away she wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you into her, kissing the top of your head lingering there for a few moments.

"all along there's been an invisible string tying me to you."

liked by lucybronze and 915,703 others

alessia day one or one day?

comments -

lucybronze well y/n looks thrilled on the first one

24m 140 likes     reply

-> yourusername she annoyed me that day.

-> alessia how on earth can you remember that?

-> yourusername i can’t? i’m just guessing that you did

yourusername i love you<3

24m 140 likes     reply

-> alessia love you more, my love<33

[gabessquishytum]

Soulmate mark when a person touches their soulmate for the first time; no touching lap dances, because who wants a whore as a soulmate and to find out in the middle of a strip joint.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Finding your soulmate in this 'verse is generally a joyful thing. When a person touches their soulmate, on bare skin, for the first time you feel it and matching marks appear on the bare skin,,, and continue to appear on touching mates' bare skin for a period of time after the first touch (it's believed that the strongest mate bonds continue to manifest mate marks for years when they touch each other's bare skin.)

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Mated people tend not to work in strip clubs as mates are pretty sacred, and mates tend not to like to share. There are "specialty" clubs where you might find mated stripper,,,,but that's a different story 😉 Suffice to say, the "no touch" rule for lap dances, has a compound reason for existing and generally being enforced without much push back - there are always asses, who get bounced on on those self-same asses for touching their lap dancing stripper.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

Hob didn’t feel like going out, but his friends weren't going to let their friend stay inside and be sad about his most recent break up - it's been like a month.

Hob just wants to find his soulmate; he knows they must be just fabulous. He can't wait to get to know them and shower them in his love and affection! Hob's "love and affection" has more often than not been deemed too much, but Hob just knows that his brand of love will be just right for his soulmate.

❤️

Dream has been stripping since he left his family. He's sure if he went back to the Endless family fold, they would "welcome" him back to their loveless, soulmateless, society, hateful marriages - he's sure that absolute ghoul of a man, Burgess is still around looking to mate with him.

Stripping isn't necessarily conducive to finding a soulmate (not that any of these people who frequent Dream's particular club are people he would want to mate with), with no touching a strictly enforced thing. Still, Dream would really like to meet his perfect match; he might be standoffish, but even he imagines longingly what his soulmate is like.

🫱🏻‍🫲🏼❤️🫱🏼‍🫲🏻❤️🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

A strip club isn't precisely where Hob wanted to be tonight,,,,,, or where he thought he would find and touch his soulmate for the first time.

Omg, such a crazy place for a soul mate meeting! I love it!!!

It all happens very quickly, in the end. Hob’s group of friends are getting rowdy, and he really wants to leave... then again, there is a really cute dancer making the rounds. So he stays a little longer. Dream reaches Hob’s group, and he starts doing his usual routine - lap dances, no touching. Until one of the guys lurches out of the booth to go throw up and knocks Dream to the floor.

Hob, being a gentleman, quickly helps the dancer up. The thing is... Dream is wearing next to nothing. Just a skimpy thong and high heels. So Hob has to touch him to help him up and make sure that nothing is broken.

It's safe to say that the entire club goes still. Hob’s hand is wrapped around Dream’s ribcage, and everyone can see the marks beginning to appear! On Dream’s ribs and Hob's hand - intricate patterns of feathers and infinity symbols.

They apologise simultaneously. Hob is apologising for touching without permission. Dream, well... he's kind of apologising for existing. For being Hob’s soulmate. For being an embarrassment. Hob, sensing this through their newly forming bond, puts his other hand on Dream’s cheek. Tiny jewel-like symbols appear on both of their skins. Hob has never been more love-struck or captivated in his entire life.

Hesitantly, Dream puts his own hand on Hob’s cheek and watches the symbols appear on the stubbly warm skin. It's like watching the sun come out.

Years later, they'll come back to the club - for anniversaries, mainly. Every time they come back, they both have new marks joyfully displayed on their skin. And Hob proudly tells everyone that he met his soulmate in a strip club - because he'll never be ashamed of his independent, beautiful, darling Dream - and because it makes other people sooooo uncomfortable, hehe!

[velchronica]

imperfect love ♬~*.°₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ itoshi sae

maybe i'll cry for a love that isn't perfect yet

but i wanna make endless stories

like the ones hidden inside an old book

or, since meeting you, all itoshi sae wants is a sappy happily ever after with you.

content: established relationship, gn!reader, fluff, sfw

wc: 1.0k

sae falls asleep to the sound of your breaths, the rise and fall of your chest underneath the weight of his arm over your waist. he’d rather fall asleep next to you every night—and most nights he does—but sometimes it simply cannot he helped, so when he’s away from home, he facetimes you until one of you falls asleep or has to go.

he easily falls asleep to your voice over call, phone on the bedside table next to him, and you only hang up once he’s quiet for at least half an hour and is no longer responding to you with a barely-there ‘mhm.’ after all, sae has never been much of a chatterbox to begin with, per se, so it’s not unusual for him to just listen, to savour your voice telling him about your day, to bask in the mimicry of nomalcy as you go about your day as usual on the phone to him, as if he’s there with you.

people are, more often than not, surprised by the sweet and affectionate nature of your longstanding relationship. while you’re all soft smiles, sunshines and rainbows, he’s terse, with sharp edges and a mind and mouth just as sharp. he’s cold, and spares no effort to sugarcoat his opinions nor fake humility to the masses, whereas you are warm and modest, never asking for anything in return for your kindness and hard work. still, despite this, your relationship is built upon strong and sturdy foundations, and the home you have built together is full of love and joy.

where he is can be too closed up, sometimes too wrapped up in himself, you encourage him to be more open-minded and compassionate. where you can be careless and impulsive, he is there to tie up any loose ends you’ve left behind. though your worlds do not excessively collide, they do overlap. while you don’t necessarily need each other to complete your own individual existence, you bring out the better and the best out of one another. you’ve learned through time and patience that symbiosis is often the better alternative to codependency.

there have been ups and downs to your relationships. you’re both only human after all, and no relationship is perfect; with personal flaws can come misunderstandings or miscommunication. the thing that sets successful couples apart from those that break up, however, is how you maintains and manages the things that strain your relationship. to maintain a balance between your independence and your time together is key, especially when sae is away from home so often.

it’s not uncommon for you to fall asleep in sae’s arms, only for the bed to be cold and half-empty in the morning. sometimes his voice or his face over the phone isn’t enough to keep out the doubt and anxiety gnawing at your heart. you don’t want to welcome him home with frustration and tears, but on the rare occasion you do, sae understands. he knows how much trust and faith it takes for you to wait for someone who will leave not long after.

but you also know it was your choice. you knew, when you agreed to start dating sae, that it wasn’t always going to be candy-floss and kitten fluff. you knew how much sae treasured his dreams, his work, his success, how much effort he had poured into crafting the formula to take over the field. you admire him for his tenacity and diligence, and you would never expect him to give up football for you.

you’d never understood why people say you should be willing to sacrifice in a relationship. compromise, yes, but sacrifice? if the person you love can’t accept you for what you are and do, then they don’t love you, not really. at least, that’s what you think.

but that’s why sae is your forever and always. sae loves you for your flaws, not despite them, and that makes all the difference in the world. he never expects you to show him the ‘best side’ of yourself at all times, because he knows how much faith you have in him to bare yourself wholeheartedly to him, to not shy away.

you’re lucky, you think, so unbelievably lucky to have sae in your life. for him to love you. for every day you spend with sae.

unbeknownst to you, sae thinks the same thing. he thinks it so often, hundreds of times a day, and he thinks you’ll say yes if he grabs that little box out of his suitcase and gets on one knee someday soon.

he hopes you’ll cry—tears of joy, not anguish or pain. that way he can wipe them away for you, hold your face in his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow. hold you in his arms like the fool in love he is, so utterly enamoured and enchanted by you.

he doesn’t know how it happened, but he’s not complaining that it did. somewhere along the line he’d ended up completely bewitched by your mellifluous laughter, your sunny smile. there’s something perfect in coming home to you, knowing someone yearns for him in such a way. perhaps it isn’t this penthouse that’s home, but your warm and loving presence. he’s not quite sure. almost, though.

but what he is sure he knows is that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. where he once wanted to write his name into history with a football career like no other, something deep inside would be wholly content to just have the memories of being yours. he wants to spend every day cherishing you, loving you, never yearning from thousands of miles away, but rather holding you close, lovesick and sappier than ever. happier than ever. happier than he’s ever known.

itoshi sae’s happily ever after is a forever after with you.

he can’t believe what you’ve turned him into. a lovesick, lovelorn fool. but still, waking up to the sound of your shallow, breaths, your body curled up into his, and the warmth of your presence—it’s fine.

this is his happily ever after, an imperfect love it may be.

© velchronica 2024

[ilivingonmyway]

Something, something, part II about Ninja Team headcanons! Part I here

Lloyd

• He knows things he shouldn't know. Spending a good part of your life at Darkleys does that to you. That was a school for future gang leaders, psychopaths and other types of crazy people. You can't tell me that at no point in his life did he learn how to dismember someone by the right way.

• He memorized all the names of all Starfare volumes and sagas. He's a complete nerd about these comics. And it's worse when he and Jay are together.

• Sometimes, he goes out with Nya, Pixal and Skylor just to gossip. These four together talk about everything and everyone that exists in the world.

• Even during the few times of peace in Ninjago, he suffers from insomnia. Often because of nightmares and some night terrors, but also because of his genetics. Both the Oni side and the Dragon side are more nocturnal. So he often stayed up all night just because he wasn't really tired and managed to stay that way until dawn.

• Sometimes he finds himself thinking about Akita. Missing her. Those few days with the wolf girl had affected him. As much as Lloyd tries to deny it, it was better than with Harumi, in more ways than one.

• He loves sweets, but not just any kind of sweets. He likes those that are sweet and at the same time refreshing. Because this way he doesn't get sick and can eat more.

• After the battle against the Oni, he often thinks about the "dream" he had about his Grandfather. He told Master Wu once, but he just smiled and said it was a dream.

• He is extremely protective of his family. Brothers, sisters, uncle, children... You will never lay a finger on any of them and leave in Punishment if the DragOni is around.

• Being the Green Ninja and the guy who is on the front line in both defense and attack, he is very precise with his powers and strikes. One stumble and things could turn out to be fatal.

• At some point, he developed Wu's tea addiction and Garmadon's plant worship. This runs in the family and is completely inevitable.

Nya

• Her eyes were brown, exactly the color of wood, like her father's. But after spending a year as part of the ocean, Nya's eyes changed, now having prominent blue-gray spots on the irises. At some point they returned more to brown, but whenever she uses her powers on a large scale, her eyes return to the blue.

• She's better than Kai at making weapons. Swords, axes, clubs, arrows... She always had a lot of free time in her childhood and early teens, and while Kai was busy being a ninja, she had all the time in the world to practice making weapons.

• After she was brought back from the endless sea, for a long time she had these bouts of overpowering. Most of the time this manifested itself in her physical form, with the ends of her hair randomly turning blue and floating as if she were underwater. She also remained with the marks of the transformation, but this has faded over time, almost like a really old scar, you won't notice it unless you're paying close attention.

• She is equally impulsive and the voice of reason. She will think at least 20 times to make sure the punch she will hit you and break your nose.

• Don't be fooled, even though she is usually very calm and is part of the voice of reason trio Zane and Pixal are the other members, Nya can be extremely jealous. She is related to Kai and was raised by him, so she ended up getting this overprotective and jealous instinct. Jay and Lloyd are the main targets of this instinct, because they are her Yin and her little brother. Although she often tries to hide it or not care, she will always end up being somewhat possessive of her loved ones.

• She can still hear the voice of the ocean, more specifically, Nyad. But this time they're not calling out to her, they're congratulating her on finding what she lost.

• She is a master of Aikido, I just think it's matches with her, being the Water Ninja, she long ago learned to go with the flow of the fight. Water never takes you where you want to go, you are the one carried by the force of its flow. Some time later, she trained Lloyd in this style.

• The amount of times she called Kai "dad" as a child is insane. She used to call him that in the most mundane tasks that used to remind her of Ray. Kai held back crying every time that she called him that.

• She was never a heavy sleeper, always having difficulty for fall sleeping and often waking up in the middle of the night. This only got better after she started living at the Monastery, as she felt that so much Kai and she were safer.

• She has a collection of weapons. Swords and spears are what she collects most, she keeps most of them hidden in Samurai X's cave, but there are also some in her room, for emergency purposes and also because she thinks it makes the decor look cool.

Zane

• I got this from some post, but I don't remember who the author was He talks in his sleep. At some point in his life some parts of the voice control were damaged and even after Nya and Jay took a look he continued talking in his sleep. He just can't stop. The worst is on nights when he has nightmares, as he begins not only to scream, but to narrate the dream, right down to the noises in the scene.

• Every time he gets very nervous he starts to freeze himself or the people and things around him. He tends to distance himself when this happens, as he prefers to freeze his own circuits than the people he loves.

• Sometimes he refuses to sleep, not for any worrying reason, but because he wants to do some tasks that he couldn't do while it was daylight. Washing the dishes, sweeping the training yard, putting the clothes to wash... Any household chore that he didn't do due to some unforeseen circumstances, he does at night.

• Whenever he hears an unfamiliar term or slang, he tends to do a quick search. If he doesn't find the meaning, he will ask Jay or Kai later, since they are the two who most spend time online.

• The Ice Emperor episode left him with a lot of trauma as well as some survivor's guilt. Zane never stopped to think that he could actually kill frozen people or commit genocide if his 1s and 0s weren't actually aligned correctly. He never forgave himself and started using his powers less.

• Birds are his favorite animals, of course. But there's one thing no one knows: He can't decide between the hawk or the snowy owl as his favorite kind of bird.

• He has a mental list of all the food preferences of all his ninjas and other friends.

• In the hottest summers, the ninjas fight to spend time with Zane, as he is a walking air conditioner. He finds this particularly funny and always laughs when they start arguing with each other.

• He and Pixal often play board games and experiment human things.

• Before discovering he was a Nindroid, Zane often did non-human things that others found strange. One time, when it was just him, Cole and Jay, they went out on a little scouting mission, and in the middle of the whole thing they ran into some highwaymen who they ended up fighting, and in the middle of the fight, Zane hit his head on a rock, and while Jay and Cole were in complete panic Zane was confused because he didn't feel hurt. The next few days were filled with worry and jokes about Zane being a blockhead.

[beanghostprincess]

What’s so fascinating about shuggy that makes you go this wild? Aren’t shanks completely over this guy? And buggy just bitter? Am I interpreting it wrong?

I'm not gonna ask whether you want the short or the long version, because I'm gonna give you the longest, gayest version no matter what you tell me. So. Yeah. I think I'm kind of crazy about them but in a very normal way (I just lied on the internet). I'm gonna answer your last three questions before actually getting into the subject of why Shuggy makes me go so wild:

(Spoilers: manga ch.1082 and that Wano flashback)

Shanks being "completely over this guy" would be a very simple way to put his feelings for Buggy into words, I think. Although the fandom exaggerates the way he feels for him (turning into obsession and just complete depression) for fun or for angst purposes (I must say I don't really dislike it and I do believe Shanks still holds Buggy close to his heart in this way, and if we talk in a shippy way, he's definitely the clingy one) I think Shanks isn't completely over Buggy. At least not in the cynical way some people say. I think that after parting ways, Shanks accepted Buggy leaving him. I don't think he quite understands his reasons (he never will, tbh) but accepted his decision. I think he tried to choose the more mature way (not that he had other options) and moved on. But moving on doesn't mean forgetting or being completely over someone, because I wholeheartedly think that even if Buggy isn't on his mind 24/7, he's still one of the most important people in Shanks' life and story. Buggy is there in the back of his mind like a catchy song you can't get rid of, you know? It itches sometimes, too, but Shanks can't do anything about it so he just lives with it. To Shanks, he would gladly reconnect with Buggy and go back to the way they were in the blink of an eye, but he knows it can't be. I think Shanks has moved on but the second somebody mentions Buggy he goes into nostalgia mode and thinks about their times together back when they were just kids with endless dreams aboard the Oro Jackson. I think Shanks has more things to worry about than his past to be the way the fandom portrays him, but that doesn't mean he has completely forgotten about it and doesn't want Buggy back. Because he definitely does.

Buggy is- He isn't just bitter. I don't think you can say Buggy is just bitter when Shanks' decision was what determined his whole life. Leaving the thing about the map and the devil fruit aside (which also affects the story but we know his resentment isn't really about that) Buggy has every right to feel the way he does towards Shanks. Perhaps it's just that I find this pathetic clown to be very relatable, but I will always be both a Buggy apologist and defender. I'll probably get into a more detailed version of this later, but Buggy isn't just bitter. Buggy is rightfully frustrated at how his life ended up to be without Shanks. "But he's the one who left Shanks"... Is he, though? He did leave Shanks physically, but Shanks was the first to break the relationship. The thing about Buggy that I absolutely love is how his character portrays envy and jealousy into a... I wouldn't say healthy way, but at least not a damaging way to Shanks. Despite fighting all the time, they obviously loved and cared for each other. Being best friends and the youngest of the crew, always together in both the worst and best of their moments, etc. So Buggy, even though he lived as Shanks' shadow, that isn't why he's resentful towards him. He could be angry about that, right? Just bitter Roger chose him to keep his legacy alive instead of him. But no. Buggy chose to follow Shanks instead because he trusted him. Because he thought "Well, I might not be able to follow my dream, but Shanks will do it for us as our captain's legacy". Which makes sense because they were so damn close. They're always together. Like. Just watch/read the Oden flashback. Their presentation was even together, lmfao. And when they talk about them, they mention them together. The whole thing about Shanks not going to Laugh Tale to take care of Buggy? It's just- It's just so obvious that they were best friends and intended to be together forever. Buggy was willing to follow Shanks until the end of the world until Shanks hesitated when asked about following Roger's steps (Buggy doesn't actually say he'll be in Shanks' crew, but the way he reacts to Shanks' words makes me think he would've accepted to go with him as a co-captain until... Well. Yeah. That happened). And like, I get it. Shanks knew they were too young. Shanks knew they needed to grow up and live more experiences as pirates before going to Laugh Tale and for the One Piece. For Shanks it's just a little pause before they actually fulfill their dreams. But for Buggy? For Buggy, his whole world is crumbling down because the person he trusted the most literally told him he wasn't going to follow their dream. For Buggy, Shanks doesn't take the role of Roger's legacy seriously enough, so it's unfair. It's unfair that he had to leave his dream behind for him. It's unfair that he trusted him. It's unfair that Shanks didn't believe in himself. It's unfair that their captain died. It's unfair that now Buggy has to be completely on his own, with no ability to swim and no map to follow because Shanks also ruined that for him. So, yeah, Buggy is a bit more than just bitter, and rightfully so. It's classic miscommunication because obviously, Shanks wasn't going to give up on going to Laugh Tale, but Buggy takes it that way. And he also sees it as Shanks doubting himself and the dream and it's unfair that the one who got the straw hat is the one to hesitate, and the one who didn't get anything is the one who wants to fight for their dream. Buggy is more than just bitter. I know it's played for laughs, but his grudge towards Shanks is deeper than that.

You are not interpreting it wrong, tbh. I think the fandom just exaggerates their behavior and in canon you pretty much have to analyze the characters to fully understand them. If you're not a fan of these two characters, their whole relationship can feel like "Oh, they were just friends in the same crew" even when it's way deeper than that. Although I think chapter 1082 (my favorite chapter ngl I've read it so many times google instantly shows it to me when I look for the page where I read OP) explains what I just said pretty well from Buggy's POV.

So now onto the real question, what's so fascinating about Shuggy?

I'm gonna be honest with you, before writing this I have to say that I have a tendency to love these types of ships. Soukoku (BSD) and Satosugu (JJK) are no exception and they follow the same "former BFFs/partners who turned into enemies and are very very gay". The reason I like these three ships so much is probably because of personal experiences I'm not gonna talk about, but somebody mentioned something very interesting about lesbians/sapphics relating to these ships because we always have this experience about having a really close girl bff that we have a crush on, but since we don't acknowledge the real feelings, it ends up in a very toxic way that leads only to resentment and nostalgia. And, you know, as a lesbian who has been through that I can confirm wholeheartedly that this is why Shuggy is so important to me (considering Shuggy a ship for the lesbians in my heart </3)

Leaving that aside and the fact that childhood best friends to lovers is like my favorite trope, I just think their characters are so perfectly written. And it's surprising because they barely have scenes talking about each other or being with each other (Marineford is Shuggys' Roman Empire atp, although I will always remember that first flashback in episode 8 in the anime. That changed my life fr). But their story is made with so much care and love for the characters (it's obvious Oda likes Buggy a lot) that you can feel it. At least I do. Because although not having many scenes they've completely taken over my heart and soul.

Shanks is a very complicated character due to lack of information and the fact that we know he hides something deeper, but he is, after all, a symbol of hope and dreams. At least for our main character. Shanks is the main reason why Luffy becomes a pirate and there are so many parallelisms between them that I can't count them. I find it so ironic that the symbol of hope and freedom Luffy follows is actually somebody who crushed somebody's dreams and hopes. Talk about irony, right? And then we have Buggy, who's the complete opposite. With Buggy's first appearance (and honestly all of his scenes until the Wano flashback and chapter 1082) we think he's one of the bad guys. And yeah, all of them are like that because they're pirates and yadda yadda. But I'm talking about "bad guy" as in "bad bad person with no hopes and dreams and that is just interested in being feared and powerful". And he is a failguy. A very funny one, too. But he's so much more. And the fact that this comedic relief character that's always played for laughs when it comes to his own misery turns out to be the one who has the biggest of dreams and the biggest of heartbreaks about it? It just shatters my heart.

Shuggy makes me go wild because of Buggy, mostly, ngl. I wouldn't like Shanks this much if it wasn't for Shuggy, probably (I love him a ton outside of his relationship with Buggy, but you know, it makes things a lot easier). I like Shuggy because the topics the ship touches are very emotional and angsty and they crush me completely. Buggy living in Shanks' shadow? Buggy wanting to follow Roger's steps and following Shanks instead because his self-esteem disappeared the moment his captain's legacy ended up on Shanks instead of him? The trust he had in Shanks? The way Shanks hesitates and the way Buggy refuses to follow somebody like that? Buggy running away on his own because he gave up his dream for somebody who doesn't even treat it the way it deserves? It's just heartbreaking. Especially if you have in mind that they just lost the man that raised them.

Buggy then becomes somebody that people make fun of and ridicule, and they don't even think about the possibility of him being part of the crew of the king of the pirates. And when they find out, they can't believe it. They don't talk about this much, but I think that it must hurt so fucking much to be seen this way. He was just as important as Shanks. Roger loved him too. And to this day, being Shanks' shadow still haunts him. I love the angst Shuggy has. It breaks me and I love it.

Then, (and this is something I adore) with the creation of Cross Guild, Buggy has the chance to get out of Shanks' shadow. He's surrounded by two guys who only think about money and stability and business and... It's boring, isn't it? It's not flashy! And I think he has this realization of "this is my chance to prove I'm worth something. This is my chance to actually go for my dream. Mine" because these two idiots keep talking about boring things instead of following their dreams and aspirations and bigger things! And it just shows how much Buggy truly cared about Laugh Tale and the One Piece and how much he has had to wait for it. And this has nothing to do with Shuggy, I just really love this fucking clown.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I love Shanks making Buggy lose the map and eat the devil fruit. Because, okay, in retrospect it feels very stupid because it was a simple accident. But just hear me out- Even though it was an accident, Buggy lost his ability to swim for powers he didn't want. He lost the ability of independence, because what's a pirate on his own if he can't swim? He lost his individuality that night, and we see him depend on others constantly throughout the show. And Shanks mentioning that Buggy is a great swimmer? Oh, fuck you Oda for making me cry so early in the show. Then, the map. He lost his individuality and then he lost the only thing that led him to a future with treasures and his dreams. Then again, losing his independence because he couldn't just go on his own without a map. Fucking great. The fact that Shanks jumps to rescue him the second Buggy starts to drown haunts me at night, too. They're just so-- Ugh.

But Shuggy is not everything about Buggy's resentment and angst. And it's not about Shanks missing him and wanting his best friend back because he doesn't know what happened for him to run away so easily.

It's also about unconditional love, and I am so passionate about that. Shanks care and love for Buggy is something the fandom exaggerates but... These people are not wrong, tbh. Shanks gave up his dream to go to Laugh Tale (postponed it) to stay with Buggy and take care of him because he was sick. Shanks is a very selfless person all the way, and when it comes to Buggy it seems that he doesn't hesitate to put him first (in serious situations. Their usual arguments don't count. They're just stupid, and love to argue and fight like the divorced couple they are). And besides, this happens right in the same episode after Toki gets sick and Oden wants to take care of her but she forces him to follow his dream and leave her behind. Like- What the actual fuck. Ah, yes, parallel the main couple in the Wano arc. I'm sure that's not romantic at all. The difference is that Shanks stayed. And god, does that hurt. Especially when he says they'll go on their own one day, because it shows he cared about Laugh Tale too (I mean, ofc, but from Buggy's POV it's just different).

To end this I also want to say that, leaving the whole deep analysis behind: Their personalities just match. They're funny to watch. They're cute. They have an angsty story behind them. They won't stop arguing like little kids but they care for each other still. They are chaotic. They're just... Perfect for each other.

Hope you liked my tiny essay about them because I could've kept going on and on and on about it, but some people (like me, sadly) have to wake up early tomorrow to work instead of just posting about gay fictional characters (somebody please pay me to do these things and I'll stay on tumblr 24/7).

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 5 (Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland (DCU), Johanna Constantine/Jenny Green

Rating: Teen & Up | Status: Incomplete | Chapters 5/6 | Words: 9.3K

Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives

Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

Read Chapter 5 below, or at the above link on AO3

Charles and Crystal call it quits after only four months of dating. They tried, they really did, but there’s way too many other things that Crystal’s worried about right now that just make dating impossible for her. 

For one, she still has David buried in a corner of her brain, and he’s already made two attempts this month to try and break out. Crystal desperately needs to find a way to get rid of him completely, before he could wreak havoc on her body without her permission again. Not to mention Crystal’s been trying really hard to make up for all the horrible things she did while she was possessed by David. Each day, it seems like she crosses one item off the list only to find two more things she hadn’t remembered before.

And that’s the other thing, Crystal’s fully back in London now, trying to pick her life back up where she left off, and that includes interacting with living people, people who can’t otherwise see Charles and Edwin. She still makes time to help the boys with their cases, but most of her involvement is now restricted to late nights and weekends, and even then, her old friends now think she’s some sort of weird shut in when she declines invite after invite to some party here or a nightclub event there. 

Crystal doesn’t know how she previously managed to live the way she did before. Going out to parties every single night, skipping classes until she got kicked out of every private school her parents used their money to get her into, getting into fights with literally everyone. There’s just so much that she did wrong, she’s surprised she had any friends left to go back to. And even then, none of them trust that she’s turned over a new leaf, that she wants to be better. Some of them even think she’s just putting up an act for some guy, and that once he dumps her she’ll go back to being the same old Crystal.

The worst part is, she is— was —doing just that. Being part of the Dead Boy Detectives made Crystal feel good , like if she somehow saved enough souls, helped enough people, she could make up for some of the awful things she’d forced people to do when she abused her psychic powers. There weren't a lot of things she could outright apologize to the wronged parties for, not without revealing that she had powers in the first place. 

Being with Charles too, that had made her feel good. Charles was so much nicer than all the other boys she’d loved before, he was earnest, kind, and optimistic, even if that last trait annoyed her from time to time. Charles was patient with her too, he always offered her a word of comfort and a shoulder to cry on as Crystal struggled to reconcile her memories of the past with who she was now.

It still wasn’t enough. And they both knew it. Charles was still terrible about opening up about his insecurities, and Crystal still had a bad temper. They fought a lot, sometimes about Crystal’s mean personality, and sometimes about Charles' hero complex. Charles had nearly died on a case more than once, and even though Crystal, Edwin and even the fucking Night Nurse had scolded him about his recklessness, Charles had brushed them off and retreated back into his sunny, optimistic personality. She also hated that even though Charles could manifest a somewhat physical form to cuddle with her at night, Crystal still inevitably woke up alone, because ghosts don’t sleep, and the Dead Boy Detectives are always on the clock.

So, in the end, a breakup was inevitable, but she doesn’t regret it, even if things are going to be awkward for a little bit. 

Johanna and Jenny take her out for a girl’s night when it happens, but that just ends up reminding Crystal of what she very much doesn’t have. It’s not like Johanna and Jenny are the gross PDA type of couple, but there’s no denying that they’re madly, stupidly in love with one another, even if the two of them try to hide it with sarcasm and friendly jabs. 

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“I want what Jenny and Johanna have,” Crystal confesses to Hob later over a plate of fish and chips. “I mean—not the girlfriend part. Actually wait, I don’t know about that either,” she adds, nibbling on a particularly crispy chip. “We’ll put a pin in that, for now. But what I actually meant was—I want to love someone who’s alive . Is that terrible of me? Charles can’t help what he is, but—”

“It’s not terrible,” Hob interrupts her before she can spiral into a mess of self-loathing and guilt. “You’re going to eventually grow older, become an adult, and Charles won’t. It’s neither of your faults, that’s just the way it is.”

“Yeah,” Crystal agrees, sighing. “We had a short shelf life to begin with, but it still sucks, ” she laments. 

Hob nods, then takes a sip of his beer. “I understand, sort of anyways. Never tried to date a ghost before, but, well, every relationship is a short one when you can’t die.”

“Really? You’ve never tried to like, date a vampire or some other immortal?” Crystal asks. “Or is it because you’re holding out for your situationship to work out?”

Hob groans. “For the last time we’re just—”

“Yeah, yeah, friends,” Crystal interrupts him, rolling her eyes, before she brazenly steals a crisp off Hob’s plate. “At least I have someone to talk to who’s also miserable and single, I guess.” 

“Misery does in fact, love company,” Hob agrees with a laugh before he holds up his beer to her. “I’ll drink to that.”

“I would drink, but someone won’t serve me alcohol while I’m here,” Crystal snarks, holding up her lemonade. She may or may not have spiked it while Hob wasn’t looking.

“Laws are laws, Crystal,” Hob replies, clinking their glasses together. “And no, I don’t want to know if you added anything to your own drink, let me be a responsible bar owner for once, please, ” he adds, and Crystal laughs. They toast, and then Crystal checks her phone and responds to messages, while Hob grades a few more papers. 

“So how come I haven’t met your situationship yet, anyways?” Crystal asks, breaking the silence. Hob groans. 

“Let’s switch to a different topic,” the older man says, before his face lights up. “Crystal, what do you think about enrolling in University next year?”

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Things slowly fall back into place as Charles practically glues himself to Edwin’s side now that he and Crystal have called it quits. Crystal also finally draws some boundaries on how many late nights she can actually afford to give them to help with solving cases. Edwin is more than generous with giving her some slack, and Crystal sometimes bitterly wonders if he’s only being so kind because it gives him more alone time with Charles.

Right. Negative thinking is definitely the first thing that she needs to work on. 

So Crystal lets herself rest, lets herself slowly work on sorting out her relationship with her friends, her parents, and all the other living people in her life. She lets herself grieve Niko. She makes Hob and Johanna help her lookup ways to banish David from her brain for good. 

It helps. And slowly, slowly, Crystal starts to feel better about herself.

Of course, right around the same time that happens, Edwin nearly dies (permanently) when someone stabs him with an iron knife. The noise Edwin makes is not something Crystal ever wants to hear ever again. She desperately holds his hand while Charles sprints back to the office, searching desperately for 

“Don’t you dare die on me, Edwin,” Crystal says, squeezing Edwin’s hand as tightly as she can manage. 

“I–I,” Edwin coughs, then groans in pain. “I’m already dead, Crystal.”

“Fuck off,” Crystal bites back, but she smiles, despite herself. “You’re going to be okay. Charles is getting the book that’ll heal you and you’re going to be just fine.”

“I know,” Edwin says, then coughs again.

Charles comes back what feels like hours later, a large book in hand. He starts reciting the spell in a language Crystal’s never heard before, and when the last of the iron damage disappears, he pulls Edwin into a bone crushing hug that somehow turns into a desperate kiss between the two of them. 

Crystal quickly makes herself scarce, already deciding to drown her sorrows at The New Inn. 

Jenny brings her the most ridiculous looking fudge sundae, and Hob doesn’t even say anything when Crystal takes out her flask and pours vodka into the lemonade he serves her. He doesn’t open a tab either.

“Well, can't say I wasn't expecting that,” Crystal says, as she recalls how the night ended. She sighs and takes a deep gulp of her spiked drink, not really caring that Hob was looking at her disapprovingly. “More of a matter of when it would happen, really.”

“You gonna be okay?” Jenny asks her, clearly concerned. Crystal laughs because if Jenny was worried about her, then Crystal really must look like shit right now. Still, she nods and then takes another large bite of her sundae. 

“Yeah. I’m the one who broke up with Charles after all,” Crystal says, then sighs again. “They really are made for each other aren't they?”

“Yeah,” Hob agrees, before sliding a glass of water in front of her. “They are.”

Crystal rolls her eyes, but sips at the water anyways. Hob had given her a little umbrella with her cup, it would be a crime not to drink it. 

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

Funny enough, it's Edwin that corners her first the day after witnessing the awkward kiss.

“Charles is researching something,” Edwin tells her, which Crystal knows is Edwin speak for ‘I kicked him out so we could talk alone.’

“We don't need to talk about it, Edwin,” Crystal sighs, rubbing her forehead. Even with Hob practically forcing water on her yesterday, she still had a headache, and it was way too early in the morning to be having a feelings discussion. “It's fine. Really. We're cool. It's not like it wasn't obvious how you two felt about each other from the start,” she adds, trying not to sound bitter about the whole ordeal. 

“I assure you, nothing was obvious to either me, or Charles,” Edwin says. “And…well. It was still rather impolite to—how did you say it—‘make a move’ on your ex?”

Crystal snorts. “Technically, Charles made the move, not you,” she replies, recalling how Charles had just gravitated towards Edwin like he always had. Edwin simply hadn’t protested when it finally happened.

“Semantics,” Edwin says, waving a hand. “But Crystal,” he says, looking at her very seriously now. “I do not wish there to be any bad blood between us. You are—our friend.” 

Crystal brightens immediately. “You just called me your friend,” she teases, then laughs when Edwin blushes straight to his ears and coughs.

“ Our friend,” Edwin insists. 

“Semantics,” Crystal says, parroting Edwin’s earlier remark, much to his chagrin. “You’re never getting rid of me now,” she adds, right before hugging him. Edwin hugs her back this time, even if it takes a few moments for him to lift his arms. 

“I really am happy for you,” Crystal admits when they finally pull apart. 

“Thank you,” Edwin replies, giving her one of his few genuine smiles. He looks so happy that Crystal can’t help but grin at him too. 

“You owe me like, five thousand favors for helping you two figure your shit out, though,” Crystal says, then laughs when Edwin gives her a withering look.

“We would've figured it out on our own eventually,” Edwin protests.

“In the 21st century?” Crystal snorts. “Unlikely.”

[mollymauk-teafleak]

to get to this evening with you

Watch a kinda cheesy show, write some kinda cheesy fic! Endless thanks to my lovely @hangsters for the motivation and support.

Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!

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It's the night before his wedding and Evan Buckley needs to things. First, a pep talk from his sister.

And second, to see his future husband.

-------

The position of Buck’s Best Man (he couldn’t think of a good title that didn’t exclude half of the options) was a hotly contested spot. 

Everything else about the wedding planning had gone so smoothly, a couple of quieter shifts, a few late nights spent scrolling through Pinterest, a few nods of agreement from an increasingly bewildered Eddie and every single detail was nailed down inside of a month. The perfect wedding, everything Buck had been dreaming about since he was a kid, as well as a few things he didn’t think he’d ever get to have, all neatly mapped out in a binder that was somehow bigger than Bobby’s binder of earthquake protocols. 

The only missing piece, the only headache, was this. Who out of their 118 family was going to be his best man.

But when he opened the door of his hotel room on the night before the wedding to see his sister Maddie standing there in her pajamas, a four pack of shitty beer dangling from one finger and a knowing smile on her face, he knew he’d made the right decision. 

“Oh thank god,” Buck groaned, sagging against the doorframe in relief. 

Maddie flashed him that smile, the ‘everything’s going to be okay’ smile he’d been anchoring himself to since he was a kid, “I figured you might say that. I also figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep so I thought I’d come to your rescue.”

“You always do,” Buck steps aside to let her in, catching the two cans she throws him with practiced ease, “It’s two in the morning, how did you know I’d be awake?”

Maddie scoffed like he was a bit of an idiot for needing to ask but she loved that he had anyway, “Only every Christmas Eve, the night before every one of your birthdays, every first night of summer break for our entire childhoods? You snuck into my room for every single one because you couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you’re excited,” Buck admits, watching his sister flop down on the hotel room’s expansive bed, kicking off her slippers, arms splayed like a starfish. 

It felt good to watch her take up space. He hadn't realized until she came to LA, just how much his sister had been shrinking herself down over the years.

“Excited?” Maddie hummed knowingly, cracking open her beer with a rhythmic hiss and pop, “Or nervous?”

Buck groaned a little, lying beside her. He was suddenly transported back to all those nights Maddie mentioned, feeling so young and so small, not enough space in his body for all the buzzing emotions he was feeling. He’d always hoped that would fade as he grew, that his brain would become more manageable as the cage he kept it in got bigger. 

But of course the worry had just grown along with everything else.

“Is both an option?” he asked hopefully, taking a swallow of the beer and wincing in a way that only had a little to do with the taste. 

“Of course it is!” Maddie nudged him with her knee, “You’re getting married tomorrow, it’s a big deal.”

Buck fidgeted with the tab on his beer, pressing it down and letting it spring back, “But…are people supposed to be nervous the night before they marry the love of their life? Shouldn’t I just be happy? I mean, I am, I can’t wait for tomorrow but I’m also sort of…terrified.”

Maddie rolled onto her side, regarding him, “Buck. Have you ever been just happy? Completely, one hundred percent happy, without any guilt to go along with it?”

“Alright, point taken,” Buck grunted, chasing it down with another mouthful of beer, “Guess we’re not built that way, huh?”

“We most certainly are not,” there was a bitter humor in her voice, the kind you only got the rights to if you had a shitty childhood, “You don’t need to worry about being nervous. I’m sure Eddie’s feeling exactly the same.”

“What, you think Christopher is sitting in Eddie’s room right now, taking up all the space on his bed, drinking terrible beer?”

Maddie laughed along with him, “I mean, ideally without the beer but this is the kind of crap only teenagers can stomach…but yeah, Chris has probably talked Eddie down a couple of times. You know what they’re like.”

Buck smiled at that because, yeah, he did. They were nearly a year out from Chris coming back home to Los Angeles, sometimes it felt like a decade, sometimes it felt like five seconds. It was going to be a long, slow process, figuring out what their family was going to look like now. It was never going to be what it was but some moments, like the look on Christopher’s face when Eddie had asked him to be his best man, told Buck it was going to be something good. 

Maybe it was that thought that gave Buck the courage to unscrew the cap a little, let the words start to pour out, “I just…I know how much trust Eddie’s putting in me with this. He already went through a marriage and had it fall apart and lost his best friend. He’s had his family try and take Christopher away from him and he worked so hard to get him back. He was so…closed off when I met him and I get why, he was trying to protect himself after everything that happened.”

Maddie perched her head on one hand, voice gentle, “But he opened up for you, Buck.”

“And I just want to be…worth that,” Buck tried to find the right words, pulling his knees to his chest and leaning back against the headboard, “I just want to make him this life where he never has to worry about Christopher, he never has to be alone or afraid and he never has to feel bad about who he is. And…and what if I can’t?”

“Buck, you can’t,” Maddie sighed sadly, “No one could.” 

“I know that,” Buck grimaced a little, feeling like a child having to be told Santa wasn’t real, “I mean, God, I don’t have to tell you I didn’t have the best role models for a healthy marriage growing up.”

Maddie tipped her can to him in a dry salute, “Hey, I gave you an excellent example of what not to do? And neither you nor Eddie are abusive assholes so clearly the message got through.”

“And I’m not going to be our parents either,” Buck voice tightened with determination, “But every relationship I’ve had before Eddie has just fallen apart and…and, even if I manage not to screw things up, hurt him when I don’t mean to, there’s all the stuff I can’t control? I mean, for God’s sake, I could go to work the first day back after our honeymoon, put one foot wrong and make Eddie a widower twice over?”

Maddie stayed quiet for a moment, like she had to remember how to shoulder that reality before she could speak, “Eddie knows that Buck. Same as Athena knows it when she sends Bobby out the door, same as I know when I sent Chimney. But whenever I feel those thoughts getting loud, I tell myself that I could crash my car on the way to work, an anvil could fall off some scaffolding and land on my head, I could fall down a loose manhole into the sewer-”

“No you couldn’t, they’re made of cast iron so the weight is distributed evenly and there’s no pivot point,” Buck grumbled, “But you’ve made your point, Mads, I don’t need a longer list of things to worry about...”

“Exactly,” Maddie couldn’t help a smile, shifting onto her knees so she could lean in and tap him on the forehead, like she was drilling the words through his skull, “And my point is that loving someone is always a risk. But it’s a risk we decide is worth taking for our person.”

Buck looked at her, eyes soft and pleading, “I planned the perfect wedding for us. I just wish I could plan the perfect life too, be the perfect husband he deserves.”

Maddie’s hand fell to squeeze her brother’s, in that way that had always meant listen up, “Buck, Eddie doesn’t want a perfect version of you. He just wants you.”

Buck found himself blinking hard, folding until his forehead touched her shoulder, his answer to that squeeze of the hand since he hadn’t needed to bend at all, “Thanks, Maddie…”

“Hey. This is why you made me your best man, right?” she grinned.

“Of course. I definitely didn’t just panic and pick someone at random…”

Maddie cackled, shoving Buck off the bed, “Oh my god, shut up, go see Eddie.”

Buck managed to catch his feet without spilling a drop of his beer on the hotel carpet that was soft enough to cost more than he made in a month. He finished the rest of the can in two swallows, just to be on the safe side. 

“I think that might be against the wedding rules?” he pointed out, even as he cast about for his shoes, “Me and Eddie aren’t supposed to see each other until tomorrow.” 

Maddie gave a derisive snort, “Oh yeah and you two have always followed the rules, haven’t you? Come on. You need him right now, you go and see him.” 

Buck’s smile broke into a laugh because, of course, she was right. He did need to see Eddie.

“Your sneakers are over by the couch,” Maddie pointed out before he could even ask, snuggling back down into his bed.

Buck shoved his feet into them, raising an eyebrow at her, “You sleeping in here?”

“You’re not coming back. And I don’t want to wake Chim as early as I’m gonna have to get up to drag you back here and get you looking presentable,” 

“And you get to watch more episodes of your dumb mystery show without him?” Buck smirked as she picked up the TV remote.

“He talks during them!” Maddie waved a dismissive hand at him, “Shut up, go!”

Buck went, only pausing once at the doorway. He’d learned to never leave any of his family without saying one thing first. 

“Love you, Maddie.”

She smiled back at him, the kind of smile that grew until it spilled over into a grin. People had always told the Buckley siblings they only really looked like each other when they smiled, at least when they were kids. In the years since Maddie left home, when she’d stopped smiling like that, it had hurt Buck to know they’d lost that similarity, that someone looking at them side by side might never think they were siblings. 

But looking at Maddie now, it was like looking in a mirror. Two kids who hadn’t been built to be happy but they were learning. 

“Love you too, Buck,” his sister grinned.

The ranch house turned hotel Buck had finally decided on for their wedding venue was perfect. It was all oak panels and iron accents and willow trees holding court along a brook, exactly what he’d wanted, the kind of old fashioned, rugged beauty he’d fallen in love with watching Westerns and reading adventure books as a kid.

However, that also meant every single floorboard Buck stood on sounded like a firecracker. Not ideal for trying to sneak down a hallway past rooms that contained his nearest and dearest, people he didn’t really want to know he was up to right now, even if the wedding rules were stupid. There was a lot of wincing and freezing in place, trying to navigate a minefield of loud noise before nearly jumping out of his skin when a door opened just ahead on his left. 

Eddie stuck his head around the door, voice a fondly exasperated whisper, hand already outstretched to pull Buck into the room, “There you are! Took you long enough.”

Buck just about managed to hold in his delighted laughter until the door was closed behind them. 

The urge to pull him close and kiss him was almost too strong to ignore but made himself pause, he made himself just look at Eddie. He clearly hadn’t been sleeping either, his dark hair was sticking up in tufts, his eyes were blurry, the old t-shirt and shorts he wore were creased from tossing and turning. He was just about the most beautiful thing Buck had ever seen. 

“I needed to see you,” he murmured, he’d known it was true but saying the words turned it into something concrete, like the sky being blue or gravity pulling things towards the center of the Earth. 

Eddie tilted his head gently, leaning so his weight pressed Buck against the door, that warm solid weight that held Buck together when he needed it, “I know. Because I needed to see you too.”

That turned holding off on kissing him from difficult to impossible. Buck was smiling as their lips met, as Eddie’s hand wound into his curls and anchored there, as his hips pushed up and Eddie’s pushed down. One kiss turned into two, into three, the ground underneath Buck feeling more steady with each one. 

“You wanna talk?” Eddie breathed out along with a sigh, head resting on Buck’s shoulder for a heartbeat while they caught their breath. 

“No,” Buck answered honestly, “I want this.”

Eddie nodded, accepting that easily, pulling him towards the bed, “Then it’s yours.”

They tumbled together, the world continuing to spin even after they sank into the blankets, as Eddie kissed Buck down into the mattress again and again. Each brush of his teeth against Buck’s lip, each time his tongue slid against his own, each gasp he drew from Buck's throat, unwound him more and more. So many times he’d wished for a way to turn off his racing mind and Eddie Diaz had been holding the switch all along, able to just touch him and narrow the whole world down to only them.

“Feel like I’m making you break the rules…” Buck gave a ragged, breathless laugh as Eddie pulled his shirt over his head and threw it aside.

Eddie’s smirk was playful, hungry, “Buck, we’re already breaking every rule I was ever taught about marriage. One of the reasons it’s so much fun.”

Buck felt a shiver run down the length of him at that, breath hitching, “What are the other reasons?”

Eddie slid Buck’s shorts down his legs, sending them overboard to follow his shirt. His pupils blew wide as he opened Buck’s thighs, tongue caught between his teeth, an expression of pure awe like he was struggling to believe he was really here, spread wide for him.

“You,” Eddie said simply, his voice shaking just a little, “The rest is all you, Buck.”

He knelt between his legs, tongue quick and eager. When it touched the heat between Buck’s thighs, he hissed, the sound a fire makes when it’s finally doused with water, a kind of desperate relief. 

“Oh baby…” he moaned, legs sliding across Eddie’s broad back, one arm thrown over his mouth, the other gripping the headboard tight.

Eddie only pressed deeper, firmer, knowing that Buck liked to be flooded, overwhelmed. He didn’t pause for a moment, nosing at his aching cock while his tongue lapped, while his teeth grazed his lips. His hands gripped Buck’s thighs, thumbs stroking over the soft hairs there, the muscles of his back flexing rhythmically against his legs as his whole body worked to eat Buck out. 

Buck was helpless, caught in the tide of it all, left to muffle his cries as best he could against his own arm and hold on for dear life. He groaned, he gave strangled gasps, he whimpered Eddie’s name so many times he half expected it to be tattooed on his skin where his lips had been. He writhed, just to give them both the pleasure of Eddie pinning him, having to leverage his whole weight to keep Buck trembling there, sucking and mouthing at him until he was completely undone. 

Buck came without warning, even to himself, the tension just broke and he was falling. There was that throbbing, pulsing moment of all consuming release before he broke through and could breathe again. 

“Fuck…” he moaned, voice a faint tremor, expecting to see smoke rising from his skin as he reached down for Eddie, who was stripping off himself, “That was…”

“Just the start,” Eddie finished, moving up to hold him, arms locking securely around his waist, as safe as any harness has ever held him on the job, “Just warming you up, baby.”

Buck groaned in relief, clinging to him, pressing his heels into the small of his back to urge him on, “Thank fuck…”

Eddie was so hard his cock seemed to burn against Buck’s inner thigh, his pulse thudding just under his skin. 

“Were you thinking about me? Before I came to see you?” Buck purred, shifting until he felt the tip of Eddie’s dick resting against his entrance, “You’re pretty damn worked up.”

Any part of Eddie’s face that wasn’t already flushed turned pink, the smile that he pressed against Buck’s bare shoulder was playfully crooked, “What else am I supposed to be doing the night before marrying the man of my dreams?”

Buck shivered happily, hips twitching in impatience, “Fucking him.”

Eddie gave a growl of laughter and pressed in all the way, until there wasn’t a spare inch of space between their bodies, until he’d drawn a high, thin whine from Buck, “Better get on that then…”

They moved easily, rhythmically, two people who had been practicing the same dance over and over but still found joy and freedom and flight in every step. Buck had grown up always feeling like he wasn’t enough, like there were parts of him missing but, in Eddie’s arms, with Eddie’s heartbeat hammering against his own, he realized what it was to feel completely whole. More than enough. 

“Eddie…” he gasped, face tense as their bodies rolled, “Fuck, that’s it…”

Eddie panted heavily, snatching kisses in between low moans and ragged breaths, “All yours. All of it.”

He turned suddenly, pulling Buck over him so now he knelt on the bed, riding Eddie. Buck gave a strangled cry as Eddie’s cock was driven that much deeper inside him, bouncing hard without so much as missing a beat. The place where their bodies joined became the anchor of the whole universe, the only sounds in the world were the sounds of their hips slapping together, their desperate breath misting the air, the only heat came from Eddie’s hands as they splayed against his ass and the small of his back. The dance was becoming heedless, stumbling, something wilder and every bit as beautiful. 

Buck could hear his own pulse in his ears, bending back into those hands, spine arched like he was held in a physical grip, in the claws of something so much bigger than him. Already reeling from his last orgasm, his nerves were sparking, splitting, about to ignite. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold on for much longer, all he could do was hope Eddie was ready to burn with him.

“Eddie…” he panted, his voice rattling with their frantic motions. 

They’d never needed more than a word to know what the other meant, “I’m here, I’m with you baby. Together.”

Buck had always thought sex was something that made you feel small, less than you were before you started. He’d been so desperate to be wanted, to be held and desired just for the person that he was, but the meaningless hookups he’d chased would never fill that need. He told himself he wanted touch, he wanted that ten seconds of pleasure, because finding it was easy. He’d slapped a band aid over a torn artery and told himself he was fine, ignoring the hollow, aching feeling when he’d be left alone in an empty bed, everything drained out of him. 

But when Eddie said together, it was a promise. 

When Eddie’s hips snapped upwards, so hard that Buck was lifted clear off the bed by a good few inches, when he flooded him with heat that seemed to reach right up to his chest, he knew they were together. More one body than two, more whole than they ever could be apart. Buck came, hard, harder than he ever had with anyone else but, more than that, when he slumped down like a puppet with its strings cut, Eddie was there to catch him. And Buck never doubted for a moment that he would be. 

“That…that was definitely against the rules…” Eddie panted, voice raw and ragged at the edges, fraying until the laughter came through.

Buck moaned, pressing a kiss to the place where he felt Eddie’s heart throwing itself against his ribcage, like he was soothing it, “Good.”

“Do you want to talk now?” Eddie murmured, turning when Buck finally had the strength to uncouple them, cuddling close into his side to make up for the distance. 

Buck thought for a moment before shaking his head, smiling, “Nah…think I got everything I needed there.”

“Last minute nerves?” Eddie guessed, voice light as his touch, stroking a curl back from Buck’s sweaty forehead. 

“Yeah…” his smile turned coy, catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I haven’t got cold feet, don’t worry. I just needed to remember why we’re doing this. Why it’s worth it.”

Eddie clasped his hand tight like it held something precious, shaking his head. Buck didn’t need to explain himself with him, he never had. 

“I know, baby,” he let their foreheads naturally rest against each other, their bodies fitting together perfectly like two puzzle pieces, so they’d be the last things they saw before drifting to sleep and the first things they’d see when they woke up, “And you’re feeling okay now?”

Buck just let himself be held, grinning, “Yeah. Because I love you.”

“I love you too…” Eddie said the words so softly but they were the ones that held the universe together for Buck.

The nervousness, the anxiety, it was still there, somewhere in the back of his mind. It always would be, just like Maddie had said. But as Buck felt himself finally relax enough for sleep to find him, he knew that he and Eddie would face that uncertainty the exact same way they’d start their first day of married life. 

Together. 

[master-of-the-game]

seeing you make oil paintings of elim garak has changed something about the way i perceive art, both in what others make but also in what i am capable of making.

it’s probably due to learning mostly euro-centric art history, but i’ve always thought of oil paintings as like the peak of painting ability? like, it’s fancy and it takes a while so i thought that it must be the best (ignoring the fact that my artistic field is mostly in acrylic paints and 3D sculpting and yet i still consider it very good). and i’m still working on disproving this sort of mentality that there are mediums inherently better than others, because it’s incredibly limiting to my creativity to impose a higharchy, and also it feels kind of xenophobic.

i digress a bit. point is, i’ve viewed oil paintings as a medium only deserving of gallery-type realistic portrait stuff, which is very much not what i do. i don’t make the sorts of fancy art rich people would pay for- the type of art i thought oils were for. i make paintings of comic book characters and sculptures of my personal heroes, i make jewelry and clothes and stuffed animals. stuff that i enjoy. which is good!

but still somewhere lurking in my brain was this voice telling me that on some level my works weren’t as meaningful or creative because they were fan works or made from materials i’m not an expert in or because the only people i draw and paint and sculpt are queer and trans, like me. that because my art was self-indulgent, on some level i suppose i thought it lesser.

but then i see your art. and holy shit! you’re work is INCREDIBLE! at first i was excited because, hey, i’m a big star trek fan, and garak is one of my favorite characters. i love coming across fan art of him, and it always manages to strike a chord with me. but then. as i looked at it closer, i realized it was on canvas. as i scrolled down i realize it was oil on canvas.

before, i’d pretty much only seen fanart as sketches on paper or digital drawings. one that is really only meant art-wise for quick sketches or planning of what will become “real” works, and one that doesn’t actually take up any physical space in our world, and is stored away in a little digital file.

but oil on canvas? that’s not meant to be thrown away, it’s meant to be held in gloved hands, as it is precious, and it’s not meant to be hidden away in the “files” on a laptop. no, those hang on the walls of museums or houses, meant to be displayed with pride for all to see.

and with those too colliding thoughts, that of fan works as some lesser form of art but oil paintings being the art of the rich and talented… well i realized that both were wrong. fan works are not in any way shape or form lesser than original works. what makes my layered ink painting of dream of the endless any less important than my painting of the ocean during a storm? nothing! they’re both good works. and on the other side, there is nothing that makes my oil paintings more important than my acrylic paintings or my sculpture or my knitting. it’s all art, lovely art, in the end. and the only thing that really matters is that i enjoy it.

seeing your art has helped me break some (minor) yet harmful thoughts i didn’t really even realize i had. so thank you for that. also your garak art is fucking good, and it really makes me think about what sort of life he would have after ds9. anyways, thank you. that’s what i’ve been meaning to say (that’s what this whole thing is). thanks for changing my vision for the better.

Oh wow! You know, it is very important and gratifying to know that results of your work make person rearrange their thoughts and views on something. Thank you for your sincerity! Now back to subject. I personally believe that fan work can be something fine and vice versa something fine can be a fan work. One thing that is very important to remember and remind yourself is that most of fine art that you've mentioned - gallery and most famous works (at least in european tradition) - are, well, derivative. Of Bible, of ancient myths. Yes. All this stuff can be considered maybe not fanart - but it is a subject for discussion - but illustration at least. And it is still fine art. Book illustrations - oh well. Sometimes I want to hang them on the wall, especially old ones. So - why not? Fan work always has a connotation of something derivative, and it certainly is... But just as well as most of the most prominent works. Dixi :D So that's the matter. Medium of course matters but medium does not always define the subject of art (except for common sense), as you've said. It's just maybe the cost of medium (some watercolor brushes for some reason cost... ehm. Too much :D) that defines its price, but not necessarily. I like thinking about this issue and discussing it... Plenty room for ideas. Thank you!

[sorcerous-caress]

thank you thank you thank you for feeding me the halfling content. It warms my cold dead soul and I love it so much. 94 notes too at the current time I’m writing this, and gah, I’m glad some people enjoy the short races like I do.

To add if I may, I know I’m going off into human kink territory, but I feel like in all other races x human, there is a certain tone towards the human partner. High elves thinks they’re fundamentally less intelligent and naive, wood elves like to ‘fix’ them/change them, dwarves’ fantasy is to have a clumsy human assistant, etc.

Which don’t get me wrong, is hot. I’m all here for kinky shit, but I do like the tenderness of halflings. Imagine, a human stumbles upon a halfling grove while injured. They pass out, and awake to a group of halflings fussing. They’re tender and kind. One is hurriedly trying to sew their blankets together to keep you warm, another is tending to the fire, one is bringing you soup, etc.

Maybe you groan and protest you’re fine, trying not to hit your head. But you stumble and a worried halfling is tenderly scolding you. As you recover, you learn more about them. You drink with them, share nights under the stars, watch as they dance, and celebrate festivities together. They live such peaceful lives. Maybe you’re resistant. Maybe you’ve had a bad home life and don’t trust the families that love each other without something to get in return.

And yet, when you start a relationship with a halfling, you get their family too. Their siblings, their nieces and nephews, their cousins, and oh you just have to met their great aunt who lives on the top of the hill.

Maybe you stay with them. Or maybe you have to continue on your journey. When and if you do come back, your halfling lover(s) hand you a stack of love letters they write you. They are worried sick and hold you so tightly you’re strangely impressed.

Gah, I’m rambling but I love the idea of a human, rugged and hardened by the world, fall desperately in love with a halfling. I love a tender human kink and would love to get into the smut sometimes, but like I said, thank you so much for humoring my requests!

I'm really happy you liked it! I remember you from the early days of the human kink posts and immediately recognised you when I saw you in the requests <3

And yes, you get it. Halflings are described as the best friends of humanity for a reason! They represent home, security, and comfort, and god knows humanity is desperately in need a break from this cold warm and go to bed in a warm home.

It goes both ways too, halflings adore all the arts, be it painting, writing, music or anything, and humanity is the biggest ever source of it. Which is why so many halfling settlements get built near human cities, they adore their human neighbours creativity and are eternal greatful for the many manu gifts human has created into this world that they can spend a lifetime of exploring it.

Humans are the excitement and entertainment to them, the fun, art and laughter. I imagine halflings to be one of the few races who happily would listen to a human ramble about their ideas and dreams rather then condcendingly shushing them like the elves or infantilising their simple dreams like the dwarves who live complex lives.

Which is why humans are suspicious when they're met with halflings' hospitality after being met with all the other races, some of them even tried to enslave the humans.

And the halflings really live the dream most humans long for. A community of people who live off the lands and help each other, neigbours that know each other and share their celebrations and happiness. Where everyone contributes what they can and no one is left out.

Sometimes being human is tiring, a constant race where you have to prove your worth. To continously create, shine and preform for everyone around you. And endless dance that's expected of you rather than appreciated.

So the fact the halflings will nurse a wounded human back to full health in exchange for nothing comes as a surprise. The fact they opened their doors to you amidst a rainy storm and let you dry near the fireplace inside before cutting you a piece of their pie.

Even when you're back at full health, they don't ask for much of you. Just helping them with the tasks they can't do. Someone's cat climbed on a high tree and you're taller than them so maybe you can shake this bag of treats near the cat until it comes down? Or help them pick apples from this tree?

Especially your halfling lover, they were so patient with you and your wounded trust. Coming to visit you while you recover everyday and bringing you various things from their walks.

Sometimes a piece of warm bread and a warm cup of milk. Sometimes a stray dandelion with a ladybug they didn't notice that was munching on its leaves.

You ask them why and they say why do they need a reason to? You have a kind soul, they can tell, so it's normal for them to like being around you.

And maybe, if you're in the mood for chatting, maybe just maybe you can talk to them about the things you like? You see humans get this cute spark in their eyes whenever they talk about their passions-ah yes they do find humans quite cute but don't worry, they didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.

Maybe they hint at how beautiful they find humans, how they like the feeling of their hands, how much their different smiles melts the halfling's heart.

They admit you're just as beautiful as they imagined humans to be, there's unusual shyness in their voice as they admit that.

[bakedbakermom]

i know others have touched on this before but as i'm currently in s6 on my rewatch i am thinking Big Thoughts and trying to write them down into something coherent.

so much of s6 involves dreams and resets and circular storytelling that ultimately has little to no effect on reality. (the ouroboros of it all.) mulder and scully appear to be learning the same lessons over and over, retracing their steps again and again without actually moving forward. scully first talks about the endless line in never again, and then again in dreamland about how they are in the car together driving past people living "real lives" while they just keep driving. she wants a life, he wants the chase, and how do they reconcile the two? she is asking him - in her subtle circling-the-issue (the ouroboros of it all) way - to Get Out Of The Car With Her, live a normal life With Her.

never mind that the car IS their normal life. she doesn't see that yet. he doesn't see that yet. so they keep driving.

in a way, the whole season is Monday played out in long form. they are repeating the same story over and over because they haven't learned the lesson yet. in a season heavy with Wizard of Oz references, it comes down to this: if i ever go looking for my heart's desire, i won't look any further than my own backyard.

i mean, let's look at some themes shall we:

Drive: we can't get out of the car (literally)

Triangle: mulder is trapped in a ww2 funhouse mirror of his real life and the big thing he comes away understanding is that he's in love with scully, meanwhile scully learns just how much of the world she's willing to burn down (literally all of it) to help him.

Dreamland: mulder would hate a normal life, scully doesn't actually want to get out of the car

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas: scully's back in the car (both literally and "maybe i did want to be out there with out") and mulder is recognizing that it can't all be about him and also YOU IDIOTS ARE SO IN LOVE EVEN THE JADED DEAD CAN SEE IT

Terms of Endearment: what do we really want in this life, and what are we willing to do to get it?

The Rain King: what you want is right in front of you (you idiot)

Tithonus: what is eternity without love

Monday: the ouroboros will only break when you figure out what you need to do to fix it

Arcadia: okay maybe playing house/getting out of the car isn't right for either of us

Milagro: agent scully is already in love

The Unnatural: (incoherent sobbing i cannot talk about this one it's Just So)

Three of a Kind: mulder isn't even IN this one but scully will stop drop everything to get in the car fly to vegas at 2:30 in the morning because she doesn't want to get out of the car if he's not coming with her so i guess we may as well keep driving

Field Trip: their worlds are not complete without each other

obviously i'm leaving some out, mostly mytharc and "meh" episodes that i don't remember well enough to analyze right now but you get the picture.

and it's like ??? these beautiful idiots keep saving each other and throwing themselves on the knife to protect each other and and and and OPEN YOUR GODDAMN EYES

[gabessquishytum]

I blame this one on watching too many racing movies recently, but Racecar driver Hob and nepo-baby Team sponsor Dream.

Dream somehow (he suspects Desire) becomes the representative of the Endless Corporation for the racing team they sponsor. It is Dream’s idea of hell, large crowds, loud noises, fleeting seconds of action to watch directly, and then being expected to chat with others while watching the tv screens. He doesn’t know what is happening and doesn’t really care, and it shows. Sure, being in the luxury of the owners/sponsors box helps, but still he’d rather be anywhere else.

Dream eventually heads to the team’s garage with the excuse that he wants to listen to the race engineers and driver directly. Everybody in the garage is too busy doing their job to try and chat with him or pay him more attention than is needed to get him a headset and settled out of the way, so it’s perfect for Dream.

Robert “The Immortal” Gadling is the newest addition to the Endless racing team, so named because he has survived more on-track crashes and accidents than any other active driver, most of them weren’t even his fault. He always says the reaper is going to come for him in a car, so he might as well make it an interesting death. The press thinks he is just a thrill seeker chasing fame. In truth, he lost Robyn, Elanor, and the baby from being hit by a drunk driver while he was driving, and it haunts him. He wants to prove that he is the best driver, because if he is the best and he still lost his family in an accident, then no one else would have reacted faster or handled the car better.

Hob isn’t the best yet. He is always in the upper pack but hasn’t consistently broken onto the podium. He’s hoping this new team will be a chance to really show what he can do. Hob always has a running commentary going on the team comms no matter how long or intense the race is. People constantly have to break into his chatter to give him the information he needs about the car, his competition, or track conditions.

Dream is intrigued by this man who constantly jokes around while driving a heavy death machine around at break-neck speeds. They end up talking a few races later when after the race Dream stays long enough for Hob to notice a new face in the garage. Dream finds he enjoys having all that intense focus on him alone. Chats after the race become drinks out, then become dinner together. Soon, they are exploring the cities the races are in together when there is downtime. Eventually, they end up testing the structural integrity of Dream’s hotel’s beds as Hob sets out to prove that he is an athlete in peak shape thank you very much.

Poor Dream who has never had a healthy relationship in his life is insistent that what they have is a friends-with-benefits or fuckbuddy situation even though neither is looking elsewhere, they are always talking to each other and they’ve both shown each other the skeletons in their respective closets. Hob would like to call their relationship more but also knows his constant dance with death or at least serious injury is as good a reason as any for Dream to avoid any kind of commitment to him not counting both their emotional baggage.

Things come to a head when Hob is caught in a multi-car crash and is sent rolling into the center of the track where the car quickly catches fire. Dream pushes himself into the pack of people from the team following the first responders to the crash, hoping that the safety gear the team poured some of the sponsorship money into actually did something. He isn’t allowed on the medical helicopter when Hob is airlifted out, but he does set some speed records of his own getting to the hospital.

The safety equipment does its job and Hob will only have to miss a few races for recovery, but Dream is not letting Hob go one more day without formalizing their relationship because no one else gets Hob, not even Death. Hob’s memory of that first “I love you” is hazed by painkillers, but they exchange the words so many times during his hospital stay that he isn’t too worried about it.

When he is cleared to begin racing again Hob starts consistently placing on the podium and each time he makes sure his boyfriend gets caught in the champagne spray no matter how much Dream grumbles about the cost of cleaning his designer clothes. Years later, when Hob retires from being a driver so he can spend more time with his husband, he is considered the chattiest driver of all time, Dream listened to every single one of his races after all. He also incidentally will be remembered as one of the best drivers of his generation.

-💥

I know close to nothing about racing but omg I am so here for this!!! Driver Hob!!! Chatty, risky, charismatic driver Hob with a tragic backstory!! I love it, once again I can only thank you for honouring me with this mini fic <333

I love to imagine Hob doing press conferences and managing to turn every answer for every question into a rant about how amazing Dream is, he loves Dream so much, he never thought he'd be able to get to the top of his sport but Dream has given him the motivation. And Dream himself is standing at the back of the room desperately wishing that the floor would swallow him up <333

[wrightingdungeon]

Caught on Replay 2

This was a request (Kinda) from AO3

(MDNI PT 1) (Pt3) (Pt4)

Warnings: Angst, maybe cringe, Harvey fucks his words up, kinda don't need to read 1 but very much recommended.

Looking out at the seemingly endless ocean in front of him, Harvey pulled his jacket closer as the summer air began to transition into an autumn chill. The sky was painted in shades of twilight, with stars just beginning to twinkle above the horizon. The salty breeze carried with it a mix of nostalgia and melancholy, a familiar feeling during this time of year for Harvey.

The Dance of the Moonlight Jellies wasn't one of his favorite festivals, but he didn't hate it either. There was something magical about the candles that lined the beach, their flickering flames casting a warm glow against the darkening sky. The soft crashing of the waves against the shore added to the serene ambiance, creating a soothing backdrop for the night's events.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Evelyn and George. Evelyn had her arms wrapped lovingly around George’s shoulders, both of them reminiscing about their youth. Their matching smiles were a testament to the years they had shared together, filled with joy and hardship. Harvey couldn't help but feel a pang of envy at their enduring bond.

Sighing slightly, he turned his gaze back to the ocean, the loneliness within him growing stronger. It had become more pronounced since you moved into town, a constant reminder of what he yearned for but felt he could never have. Seeing you walk around the town, interacting with everyone, brought a mix of happiness and heartache. He always knew you had your own life, your own dreams and aspirations, but the fact that fate had led you to Pelican Town must have meant something, right?

Or perhaps it was just Elliott's romantic tales getting into his head. Harvey couldn't deny the allure of those stories, the way they painted love as something grand and inevitable. He wondered if, just maybe, there was a chance for him too. Every evening he found himself lost in thoughts, pondering the possibilities and the "what ifs." He'd replay the moments he'd shared with you in his mind, cherishing each one while doubting if they held any significance for you.

"Coffee?" Hearing your voice break into his thoughts, he jolted slightly, looking over at you.

"Oh! Farmer, hi," he said softly, adjusting his jacket.

"Hey," you replied, handing him a styrofoam cup of coffee. "You still take salt in it, right?"

His eyebrows raised slightly, surprised that you remembered his coffee preference after all these years. "Uh, yeah," he said, taking the cup. "It cuts the bitterness," he mumbled softly, even though he knew he had explained this to you years ago. "You… remembered?" he asked, holding the warm cup closer with both hands, the steam rising gently into the cool night air, dancing on his glasses.

Your laughter rang out, a melodic sound that made his heart beat faster. "Of course, I remember, Harvey. I don’t know anyone else who takes black coffee with a pinch of salt," you said, shaking your head and looking out at the ocean. The waves crashed softly against the shore, and the moon cast a silvery glow over the water. "It’s the little things that stick with you, you know?"

Harvey felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the coffee. The fact that you had remembered such a small detail about him made his heart swell with affection. "Yeah, I suppose they do," he murmured, his eyes following your gaze to the horizon.

"You know, I’m kinda mad at you," you said, your voice tinged with a hint of playful annoyance. He could see something deeper in your eyes, a mixture of emotions that puzzled him.

"Oh? What for?" Harvey asked, genuinely curious yet slightly apprehensive.

"This town is beautiful, the people are kind, and you’ve got the whole ocean right here," you continued, your tone now slow, slightly teasing. He sensed there was more to your words than just admiration for the scenery.

"Oh, I… I honestly just pointed to a random spot on a map." He laughed nervously, looking down at his shoes. "I didn't know where to go after graduating," he admitted, kicking the sand lightly.

Not hearing you say anything, he looked back at you, seeing you lost in your thoughts as you stared out at the ocean.

After a moment, you turned to him, your eyes now wet, reflecting the moonlight. "Sometimes the best things in life happen by accident," you said softly. "You might have just pointed to a random spot, but you ended up exactly where you were meant to be."

Harvey looked at you, his heart swelling with emotion. "Farmer?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It’s the truth," you replied, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

He felt a pang of regret for not keeping in touch after college. He wanted to ask if you had felt the same if there had been a void in your life where he used to be, but the words caught in his throat. 

Harvey took a deep breath, his face flushing with a mix of nerves and earnestness. “I’m glad you moved here, too. It’s, um, it’s like... a sign. Like fate or destiny or whatever you call it. You being here makes this place... better.”

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth twitching as you tried not to laugh. “Makes it better, huh?”

He nodded vigorously, stumbling over his words. “Yes! I mean, not that it wasn’t great before, but now it’s even greater. Like, with you here, it’s, uh, like the town has upgraded or something.” He winced, realizing how silly he sounded. “I mean, not that you’re an upgrade. Well, you are, but not like an object. More like... Oh, boy.”

Watching you shake your head and scoff, Harvey knew he had dug himself into a hole. "Not an object, Harvey? So you go off to college and never message me again?" Your tone was light, but he sensed a hint of hurt beneath the jest.

Harvey's heart sank. He hadn't realized how much his silence might have hurt you. "I... I'm sorry," he stammered, his words filled with regret. "I didn't mean to... I just thought..."

You looked away, the moonlight casting shadows on your face. "It's fine," you said quietly, a touch of resignation in your voice. "I get it. Life happens, right?"

He wanted to reach out, to explain himself, to make things right. "No, it's not fine," he insisted, feeling the weight of his actions heavy on his chest. "I should have... I should have stayed in touch. I was just... I didn't want to..."

Your gaze met his, and there was a vulnerability in your eyes that mirrored his own. "You didn't want to what, Harvey?" you asked softly, your voice barely a whisper in the night breeze.

"I didn't want to complicate things further," he admitted, the words coming out in a rush. He felt the need to explain, to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with every word.

"So you leave me alone?" You looked down, and he could see the hurt in your eyes, the tears threatening to fall. "I thought you were different," you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Harvey shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of your words like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t expected this conversation to take such a turn, especially not tonight, under the soft glow of the moon and the distant crash of waves.

“I... I’m sorry,” he managed to say, his voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to hurt you. I just... I didn’t know how to handle everything back then.”

You scoffed, a bitter edge to your tone. “Handle what, Harvey? Ignoring me? Pretending like nothing happened?”

"No, it’s not like that," he protested, his hands trembling slightly. "I... I was scared. Scared of what it meant for us, for me, for everything."

"Well, congratulations," you retorted tightly, your voice now tinged with anger. "Just… Good night, Harvey."

He wanted to reach out and stop you from walking away, but he knew any attempt to intervene would likely cause more heat to spill. As you turned and walked away, he stood there in the moonlit silence, grappling with the regret of his choices and the weight of your disappointment. He watched you disappear into the darkness, feeling a deep ache in his chest, a knot of emotions tightening with every step you took away from him.

Dragging his feet over to where Elliott and Shane were lounging, Harvey slumped down heavily beside Shane, snatching his beer and downing it in one go. "Bro!" Shane exclaimed, staring at Harvey with wide eyes. "The fuck?"

Elliott, leaning casually against the doorway of his cottage, raised an eyebrow. "Do tell, Harvey. You look like you've seen a ghost." Harvey hung his head between his knees, his voice muffled. "I really put my foot in it this time..."

"How bad could it be?" Shane asked, reaching down for another can. "You're usually Mr. Polite and Proper."

"I tried to tell Farmer how much they are improving the town," Harvey confessed miserably, rubbing his temples.

"Improving?" Elliott repeated, his arms crossed as he studied Harvey.

Harvey looked up at Elliott, his face a mix of embarrassment and regret. "I said they were upgrading the town... Not that they are an upgrade. They are! Just that they aren't an object... Oh, Yoba damn it," Harvey groaned, dropping his head back down.

Elliott and Shane sucked on their teeth and exchanged knowing looks, both shaking their heads. Shane couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Dude, that sounds like a foot sandwich if I had heard one," he smirked, giving Harvey a few consoling pats on the back.

Elliott nodded in agreement, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Indeed, Harvey. Perhaps a bit more finesse next time."

Harvey sighed heavily, feeling the weight of his verbal misstep settling in. “Thanks guys…”

[aralezinspace]

You said that you were taking Sandman fan fiction requests. I hope this one is a good idea: Reader is a preschool teacher who plans to read the Hans Christian Andersen story "Ole Lukoie" to her class, which she mentions to Morpheus since the titular character seems to be a bit similar to him. The day this happens, Morpheus shows up to visit the class to surprise the Reader and answer some of the kids' questions about him.

Storytime

A/N: omg you have NO IDEA how giddy I was to get this request! I work with toddlers and this is TOTALLY the kind of thing I'd do if they were older than 2 or 3 xD my 4 year olds from two years ago would have loved this. Thank you for sending this, hope you enjoy!

Here's a link to the full story of Ole Lukoie

~~Requests for Morpheus and the Doctor (9-13) are open!~~

The floor of my living room looked like a classroom exploded. To be fair, it was kind of true- I was working on my lesson plan for the upcoming week, and all my papers were spread out on the floor around me, my laptop perched on my legs. A mug of black coffee was on the table behind me.

It was almost midnight.

I felt the hairs on my arms stand up along with the rush of air that announced my boyfriend had arrived- as if “boyfriend” could encompass everything that came with being in a relationship with Dream of the Endless.

His eyebrows flew into his hair as he took in the pre-K lesson carnage. “Beloved,” he began slowly, “It is rather late, why are you still working?”

“My lesson plan is due tomorrow for observation. I’m almost done, I just have to get everything organized.” Dream watched me close my laptop and stack the papers in their specific order. No doubt he was ready and waiting to make me rest the minute I zipped up my bag.

I walked back into the living room, where Morpheus immediately pulled me onto the couch next to him. Exhaustion settled over me like a blanket as I curled into his side. “I admire your dedication to your work and your students,” he purred, “But you need rest. I refuse to let you burn yourself out.”

I pouted at him, my mind still whirling with everything I needed to do. “What do you have planned for the little ones?” he asked softly, gently rubbing my back. A smile touched my face.

“We’re learning about different fairytales.” I giggled somewhat nervously as I realized I was about to explain my fairytale lesson to the Prince of Stories. “Do a different one every day for the next two weeks- all the usuals, Goldilocks, Three Little Pigs, Rapunzel…” I giggled again.

“I found one I hadn’t heard of, by Hans Christian Anderson. Ole Lukoie.” It may have been a trick of the light, but I thought I saw a knowing smirk touch Dream’s face. “The main character sounds strangely similar to someone I know- a magical being that controls dreams and helps people fall asleep with sand… You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that, would you?”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “What ever do you mean, my love?” I gave him a playful smack on his firm chest; the fact that I didn’t break my hand on his immovable form was a sign of just how relaxed he was. “You know exactly what I mean, oh inspirational Dream Lord, he who puts ballads and epics in peoples’ brains.” Morpheus laughed again, this one full and beaming. God he was so beautiful when he laughed.

“And when do you plan to share this tale with your students?”

“Thursday.” I paused, a suspicious little thought taking hold. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” was his almost immediate response. I could see the wheels turning in his mind behind star-dusted eyes. He stared straight ahead for a moment before giving me another mischievous smirk.

“Alright,” I huffed playfully, settling back into his chest with a yawn. “Keep your secrets.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead as my eyes fluttered closed.

“Sleep well, beloved.”

~~~

The week passed normally, both in the waking world and the Dreaming, and I had almost forgotten my conversation with Morpheus about fairytales. I was too preoccupied with writing my kids’ report cards and handling the daily chaos. One kid went home with a stomach bug, another was absent with pink eye, they ran wild on the playground, it never ended.

Thursday came, and I woke feeling especially well rested, no doubt Morpheus’ doing. His scent still lingered on my blankets; he must have spent most of the night in the waking. I went through the motions of my morning routine, putting my coffee in a travel mug so I could get to my classroom a little earlier.

My kids started coming in about an hour after I did- time always got away from me when I started prepping and organizing my room. Only a few were home sick, and the rest seemed in good spirits, coughs and runny noses aside.

They played until morning snack, when I usually read a story. All eleven of them sat at the table with a small cup of pretzels, eating and talking loudly to each other. I pulled out a copy of Ole Lukoie I had printed. “Alright my friends!” I called. Eleven pairs of eyes looked up at me, at least for a second before going back to their pretzels. I was about to go into the story when there was a knock on my door. “Oh! I wonder who that is!”

I opened the door to my principal… and my boyfriend, smiling no less. “Hello!” she began with a wave, “This young man said he was visiting your room as a guest reader!” Morpheus stepped into the room and hovered awkwardly by the cubbies.

I choked on my snort of laughter at “young man”; the coughing fit gave me a moment to think of a response. Poor Morpheus looked concerned that I was about to hack up a lung. My principal left with another cheery wave. My kids stared at Morpheus with wide eyes, trying to make him make sense in their four-year-old brains. I took a breath and feel back on the age-old pre-K advice: just roll with it.

I beckoned him to the front of the room and said, “Yes, I forgot to tell you I was bringing in a guest reader today. This, is Mr. Morpheus. Let’s say hello!” He gave them a nod as eleven versions of “Hello Mr. Morpheus” came from pretzel-filled mouths.

I passed him the copy of the story with a beaming, slightly unhinged grin. “Mr. Morpheus is going to read our story today, so let’s show him your best listening ears.” I pulled out one of the tiny plastic chairs and sat with my kids, mirroring their eager anticipation.

Dream looked uncomfortable for only a moment before the Prince of Stories arrived in full glory. He cleared his throat and began to read:

“There is nobody in the world who knows so many stories as Ole-Luk-Oie, or who can relate them so nicely. In the evening, while the children are seated at the table or in their little chairs, he comes up the stairs very softly, for he walks in his socks, then he opens the doors without the slightest noise, and throws a small quantity of very fine dust in their eyes, just enough to prevent them from keeping them open, and so they do not see him.”

His soothing, rumbling voice had them instantly spellbound, hanging on to his every word, pretzels long forgotten. My kids were never this comfortable or well-behaved with guests, but some part of them must have known Morpheus to be the one from their dreams, keeping watch over their sleep.

I was just as entranced, staring at him with a dopey, love-struck smile as he worked his magic. He would occasionally glance up from the page and make eye contact with one or two kids before his gaze landed on me, then returned to the page. He was relaxed, at ease, and dare I say, enjoying himself. His deep blue eyes were practically glittering.

The kids all clapped when he was finished- I have no shame admitting that I did as well. “Right friends, what do we say to Mr. Morpheus for reading us a story?”

“THANK YOOUUU!!”

I laughed and glanced bashfully at Dream as he closed the book. Both corners of his mouth were lifted in a small but genuine smile. I could tell he had that glowing warmth in his chest, the kind that only came from being openly adored by a gaggle of toddlers. He practically glowed under the fluorescent classroom lights, reminding me in that moment that gods and Endless thrived on being shown love and kindness as much as humans did.

I sniffed and got a hold on my emotions that were yelling for me to wrap Dream in my arms and shower him in praise, affection, kisses and adoration. Listening to his voice for ten minutes straight and watching him with the kids I loved like my own had gotten me kind of worked up. “Now then, does anyone have questions for Mr. Morpheus about our story?” A few raised their hands. “Yes, Cody.”

“Mr. Mow-ee-us, guess what! My brother has a sandbox like in the story!” Dream looked perplexed; I stood next to him as backup.

“That’s really cool!” I responded for him. “Sarah, what’s your question?”

“Teacher is Mr. Morbus your boyfriend?”

I froze, feeling his eyes on me. I should have seen this coming. I let out a small sigh. “Yes, Mr. Morpheus is my boyfriend.”

“Are you gonna be married? My mommy’s married-“

I stopped them before that line of inquiry could go any further. “Okay, David you had a question?”

“Do you have a cat? I have two cats at home.”

“No,” Dream began somewhat haltingly. “I do have a raven, a bird. His name is Matthew.”

“That’s a silly name!” one kid shouted. A cup of pretzels clattered to the floor.

“Okay, one more question before recess. Elena?”

“Why do you have a really long coat?”

“Because… I find it comfortable, and it’s part of my job.”

Before another kid could shout a question, there was another knock at the door and Mike, our hall monitor, stuck his head in. “Who’s ready to go outside?” he called with a smile.

“Alright friends, get your coats and go with Mr. Mike, have fun!” A stampede of four-year-olds thundered to the door, some of them shouting goodbye to Morpheus as they left.

Silence descended as the last child left. I took a huge breath and sat on the table, smiling at Dream. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and the gleam in his eye was positively devious. I laughed and said, “You look entirely too pleased with yourself, love.”

Morpheus sat next to me on the table, our shoulders lightly brushing together. His warmth was comforting and helped calm my spike of adrenaline from the transition to recess. He murmured, “Your students are certainly… precocious.” I snorted at his choice of words. “I can see why you love them so much.”

“Yea,” I sighed with an adoring smile. “They drive me up a wall sometimes, but I really do love them.” I gave him a little nudge. “Thank you for coming, the kids really enjoyed it. I enjoyed it, listening to you read.” Dream pressed a kiss to my temple and my whole body glowed with warmth.

“It was my pleasure,” he breathed, “And I would be glad to read to you any time you desire.”

“I just may take you up on that.” I heaved myself off the table and started picking up empty cups. “I need to get ready for the afternoon; you can stay if you want, I’ll just be working. But, you know what that’s like.”

Morpheus chuckled and headed to the door. “I would like that very much, but I must return to the Dreaming. I have some work of my own to finish before I see you tonight.”

“Fair enough.” I grabbed his hand and gave him a deep kiss before he could leave. “I love you, see you tonight.”

He took my hand and ghosted his lips over my knuckles, the gesture sending waves of tingles up my arm to my entire body. “Until tonight, my love.”  

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Title: Bittersweet

The world had ended long ago. For Carl Grimes, this reality had become as constant as the ache in his chest. He no longer flinched at the sight of walkers or the sound of gunfire. He had lost too many people to count, each one a scar etched into his heart. But you were different. You had been the light in the relentless darkness, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad.

The remnants of the old world had faded, and now, survival was all that mattered. But within the walls of Alexandria, Carl had found a semblance of normalcy, however fleeting. It was here that he found you. You were a survivor too, haunted by your own ghosts, yet you brought something to his life that he hadn't felt in a long time: happiness.

Your presence was bittersweet, like the song that once played on forgotten radios. The memory of Ellie Goulding’s "Bittersweet" came to mind often, its lyrics an echo of his feelings. The way she sang about a love that was both a solace and a source of pain resonated deeply with him. Carl often found himself lost in thought, the melody playing in his mind as he watched you move through the day-to-day struggles.

In the beginning, it had been easy to fall for you. Your strength, your kindness, your ability to find beauty in a world covered in death. He remembered the nights you spent on watch together, talking about everything and nothing. He had told you stories of his childhood, of his mother and father, of his dreams before the world collapsed. You had listened, your eyes reflecting the flickering light of the campfire, your hand warm in his.

But as the days turned into months, the weight of the world began to press down on him. The constant danger, the endless loss, it all started to take its toll. Carl found himself pulling away, afraid of the depth of his feelings for you. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but the fear of holding onto something so fragile in such a brutal world was just as terrifying.

One cold night, as the wind howled outside the walls, you found him sitting alone in the watchtower. He was staring into the darkness, his mind a thousand miles away. You sat beside him, your presence a comforting warmth against the chill.

"Carl," you said softly, "what's going on?"

He didn't look at you, afraid that his eyes would betray the turmoil inside him. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"About everything. About us."

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "You can talk to me, you know. Whatever it is, we can face it together."

He finally turned to look at you, his heart aching at the sight of your concerned expression. "I don't want to lose you," he admitted, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I'm scared that if I let myself love you too much, I'll lose you anyway. This world... it takes everything."

You squeezed his hand, your grip firm and reassuring. "I know it's scary. But we can't live in fear, Carl. We have to hold onto whatever happiness we can find, no matter how fleeting. That's the only way we survive."

He closed his eyes, your words sinking in. He wanted to believe them, wanted to hold onto the hope that you represented. But the fear was always there, lurking just beneath the surface. "What if something happens to you?" he asked, his voice breaking. "What if I can't protect you?"

You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him. "Then we face it together," you said simply. "Whatever happens, we face it together."

Carl felt a tear escape, rolling down his cheek. He buried his face in your shoulder, the scent of you grounding him. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to cry. You held him, your fingers running through his hair, your presence a balm to his wounded soul.

As the night wore on, the two of you stayed there, wrapped in each other's arms. The world outside was still a nightmare, but in that moment, there was a semblance of peace. Carl knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope.

The bittersweet nature of your love was a constant reminder of the fragility of life, but it was also a testament to your strength. In a world that had taken so much, you had found each other. And that, Carl realized, was worth fighting for. Even in the darkest of times, there was a light to hold onto, a love that could transcend the chaos.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I love you," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "And no matter what happens, I'm not letting go."

You smiled, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you too, Carl. Always."

As dawn broke over the horizon, casting a pale light over Alexandria, Carl felt a renewed sense of purpose. The road ahead would be hard, but with you by his side, he was ready to face whatever came next. Together, you would navigate the bittersweet symphony of survival, finding moments of joy amidst the sorrow, and holding onto the love that made it all worthwhile.

[smolthealmighty]

Spinaraki Week 4 Day 7: All

Who Tells Your Story and How Does It End?

It’s the day of Spinner’s final book signing, just one more day of meeting and greeting the people who were touched by his work, and then he’ll have served his sentence and be considered a free man (with all his royalties to boot). But before he can start the next chapter of his life, he’ll have to reflect on what he gained and lost with his final fan.

Another fan walking up, another round of awkward yet meaningful back-and-forth about how much the book and its story means to the both of them, another autograph with a personalized note, and another “farewell and good luck”.

This had been Shuichi Iguchi’s Sisyphean routine for the past couple years. Ever since his account of the villains who he called friends was miraculously allowed to be published for the masses to read, his life had become a seemingly endless parade of book tours, seminars, speeches, and charity events all in the name of making sure no one got left behind or fell through the cracks like the League of Villains had. It was tough work for him, he didn’t think he could ever truly feel comfortable under a spotlight or on a podium, but it was worth it.

It was worth it to see just how many people whose hearts he had touched with his story, from people who were shaken out of their apathy after seeing what the villains went through to make them who they were, to people who had gone through similar circumstances themselves and got the courage to take action after reading his book. Some people were inspired to go into politics and law to fix the system, others were motivated to simply change their behavior to be more empathetic and reach out to those who looked like they needed help.

It was funny, Shuichi thought, that he out of everyone had inherited Tomura’s dream, that he had been the one who finally spun that dream into reality, and did so by putting his own spin on it. It was funny, in a bittersweet sort of way.

Today was going to bring a break in that routine though. Today was the final day of his sentence. True, he got off a bit easier compared to what he feared would happen, but three years of time in a mental health facility followed by five years of book related “community service” under the watchful eye of the rehabilitation program created in the wake of the war was still quite a lot to go through. And after this final book signing event was over, he could take his book royalties and walk out into the world without any further consequence. He could consider himself a free man.

The fans came, they were greeted, they laughed, they cried, they commiserated, they praised, they got their books signed, they left. Over and over until finally there was only one guest left.

The guest had shoulder length black hair that was half up in a bun even messier than Himiko’s had been, and Shuichi could tell it was dyed by the lighter roots. He was wearing a decent enough suit and a heavy coat on over that, with a flu mask covering his mouth. Still, the outfit did nothing to hide the vibes of anxiety this guy was exuding in spades.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Shuichi greeted him, “Who should I make this autograph out to?”

“Hmm, oh no name don’t put a name I’m… not sure what my name is,” the guest physically winced at his own unconvincing excuse.

“Ok, I’ll address it to ‘schmoopy’. That’s your name now.”

Schmoopy looked bewildered but also a bit amused, so Shuichi gave himself an internal pat on the back for getting the guest to chill.

“I have questions.”

Shuichi looked up from the book he was signing, “What kind of questions?”

“Several.”

“…Ok, shoot.”

“The parts with Tomura Shigaraki read like a love story. Was that intentional?”

Shuichi was glad he was already finished with signing the book, because he knew he would’ve accidentally destroyed the autograph if he’d been asked this in the middle of it.

“Well, not at first.”

Schmoopy’s raised eyebrow indicated he was surprised that Shuichi didn’t deny the claim, so he began to explain.

“When I first started trying to write this story, I had actually intended it to be this grand immortalization of Tomura’s philosophy on how ‘hero society needs to be demolished in order to reject it the same way it rejects those who can’t fit into the roles it needs’. So like Destro’s Manifesto Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. Of course that’s not what came out, because that was a terrible idea and I couldn’t write that if I tried. What I found much easier to write about was just the story of our journey together. How we all met, when and how we became friends, what fights we got into and who we lost along the way, how we fought back and what we gained out of it. Writing about my friends helped me process everything, let me reminisce on the time we spent together but also grieve their passing. And well, that’s how I ended up realizing what story genre my bond with Tomura would’ve matched the best.”

“A romance?” probed Schmoopy.

“Yeah,” Shuichi replied fondly before continuing, “It wasn’t until I was able to lay it all on paper that I understood what direction our relationship was heading. Our first time playing video games, how quickly we became attached to each other within the following weeks, the emptiness I felt and how Tomura’s response was to quickly empathize with me, my promise to support him, his eagerness to show me he was worth supporting, the lengths each of us went through to make the other’s dream come true,” here Shuichi’s voice wobbled before he steadied himself, “and how he dedicated his final words to me. Each individual moment was precious on its own, but altogether it became an obvious love story. I didn’t set out to write a romance, I just happened to have found one after it had already ended.”

“I’m sorry,” Schmoopy consoled.

“It’s okay,” Shuichi placated, “With how I grew up I thought I’d never be loved at all. It’s not the best outcome, but I’m glad to know that someone loved me truly, and loved me as much as I loved them in return.”

Schmoopy paused for a moment, and Shuichi wondered if he’d said too much, but the guest pressed on with another question.

“Ok, next one. Considering everything that happened, from meeting the league, befriending and falling in love with Tomura, and knowing the tragic ending of it all… would you do it again?”

“Yes. I mean hypothetically speaking, if I got thrown back in time to the moment I first met my friends and I could use what I know now to affect the outcome, then I absolutely would. I’d bond with them sooner, take more detours for side missions that didn’t add much to our progress but were fun to do anyway. I’d make more time to just hang out with Tomura and enjoy that time together, maybe figure out my feelings for him sooner. Maybe I’d even be able to convince Tomura not to get the sketchy surgery that caused everything to go downhill, to ease himself into getting more power. Who knows how society would’ve turned out if that was the route we took. But, even if I couldn’t change anything, I’d still do it all again. After all, it’s just even more time I would get to spend with the people who mattered to me the most, and with the guy who loved me best.”

Schmoopy’s mouth quivered and his eyes got watery, quite emotionally touched by that answer. “Sorry,” he apologized as he wiped his sleeve across his face, “got stuff in my eye.”

“Is it tears?”

“Oh shut up”, he snorted while continuing to vigorously rub the mess off of his face, his mask getting pushed around from how hard he was scrubbing, “I’ve got one final question.”

“Sure, take your time…” Shuichi said, then promptly became speechless as Schmoopy dropped his arm. The coat sleeve was covered in make up and the face mask had fallen off.

Schmoopy’s face was covered in golden cracks -no wait, they were healed over scars- making him look like a kintsugi masterpiece.

Schmoopy’s scars were most prominent around his eyes, but the largest two were almost identical scratches on his right eye and left lip.

Schmoopy also had a mole below the right side of his mouth and red eyes that shined with determination.

Schmoopy was Tomura Shigaraki, the love of his life.

“Final question. Now that your sentence is over and the statute of limitations of my crimes passed, would you maybe want to run away with me?”

As they sprinted hand-in-hand out of the building and blended into the crowd to start their next chapter together, Spinner giddily started planning out how he’d write the epilogue he’d have to add to his book the next time it got republished.