#hopefully y'all like this too

[some-effort-trickster-jake]

T! J: sigh Honey I'm home chuckle

T! J: Yes! I finally soved this blasted puzzle. But I this doesn't spark any memories.

T! J: Oh well, it'll just have to go here for the time being.

T! J: For now though...

T! J: let's fill this out

[abd-illustrates]

💛 The "Heartless" community tab just got approved! 💛

I still don't know a ton about Tumblr's community feature, but I will be sharing my future (and maybe re-sharing some past? 👀) Heartless posts into here from here on out!

Y'all are very welcome to join this space if you'd like a focused lil' community timeline to enjoy everyone's Heartlessposting in! (^^)/

[yangjeongin]

HYUNJIN | 241005 LIVE

[everythingspokenfor]

Part 2

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

You were in the middle of packing, taking photos off the walls and putting them away in boxes, piles of clothes littered on the floor based on whether you were taking them or donating.

"Didn't realise we weren't close enough, eh?" Bakugou said, arms crossed leaning against the wall of your room.

Startled you looked at him clutching the photos close to your chest."Knock at least Katsuki, you scared the shit out of me." You grumbled as you regained composure and turned back to the task at hand. Partially to get it done, mostly to avoid Bakugou's gaze while you had this unavoidable confrontation.

You should have told him you were moving out, it was a rational thing, you were friends infact best friends, had seen each other at worst, dealt with it too. Should have had an adult conversation about it. But what would have you said "Hey! Katsuki I am moving out because I am in love with you but you have a girlfriend and the sole thought of her makes me sick" yeah not a good argument or maybe evening worst you would just end up crying sobbing pathetically while pointing out you were there for him more but that's not how it works, you suppose. He deserves happiness, and you are glad he found it. You just wanted to find yours too.

"Haruki, your assistant, let it slip that you are moving", Bakugou snarled, nostrils flaring, fists tightening, tell-tale signs that he is not mad but disheartened.

"I was going to tell you", you defended, turning to face him.

"When? huh, when were you going to tell me?", He hissed "When everything was packed, and you had to bid farewell like some sort of formality?", He continued ,moving towards you, for the first time locking eyes and seeing the red-rimmed, swollen eyes your cheeks were sunken too. "What happened, peanut?", He questioned, pulling the photos from your hand and setting the to the side. "Did I do something? I'll fix it, fucks sake talk to me, tell what was it that made you run I'll fix it", He cupped your face and made you look at him.

"I don't think you can fix this one, Suki", you murmured, voice almost catching in your throat because you'll lose him, you'll lose his friendship. For a moment you wished you weren't in love with him, that you could be normal around him, could be a part of his life, let him be a part of yours. But, you had to fall in love with him, ruin whatever ever you had.

"This new apartment is closer to my agency, plus how long do we go about living here, Suki?", you said before woefully pulling yourself away from him, choosing to pack up remaining of things.

"You should have said something, I deserve to at least know, you know? I go to work and your assistant, fucking Haruki, is looking for couches for you.", He said bitterly,"He knew, he was informed, he was fucking involved, and I wasn't, aren't we close? is that fucker closer to you, huh tell me?" He gritted out.

"If you were any less busy with your fucking girlfriend, then maybe you would have helped me," you yelled, words almost getting clogged in your throat, anger finally taking over.

Both of you stare wide eyed at each other, truth finally out, you behaviour making sense to Bakugou, you can see the wheels turning in his head.

He moved closer to you, reaching out, but you pull away like it burns because if you were being honest it does, Bakugou winces at you withdrawal. Your anger, your distance, you silence making sense you heart finally bared open in front of him.

"If you can't tell me what I want to hear then you shouldn't say anything",you croaked, knowing that you are being selfish,"I want a confession Suki and not consolation", you finalized.

Bakugou looked at you before he left the room, perhaps you already knew his decision but that didn't make your heart hurt any less.

─ ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ── ・┈ ・ ─

[needlepine]

New years resolution #1: indulge in warrior-catifying my other interests <3 These are Miku (and Gumi), Bubbline, and some Life is Strange guys

Warrior name ideas for them under the cut bc I can't resist

Miku: Something like Songheart or Shinesong. Song's gotta be in there. Songstar even tbh

Gumi: Echocall? Echoflow? She's my favorite but I'm stumped on her

Marcy: Nightsong, Batsong

Bonnie: Pinkstar, Candystar, Bubblestar? Warrior name Bubbleswirl would be cute

Max: Fawnpaw/Fawnfreckle. Fawnspiral is fun too

Chloe: Butterflystorm, but drops the suffix and takes the rogue name Butterfly instead. Also I didn't draw Rachel but Doeblaze lmao

Moses: Cometfall, maybe Comettail

[nattikay]

super-duper-quickly-thrown-together mini ear flick tutorial thing, feat. Tuk

[julesnichols]

Yellowjackets // Doctor Sleep

hunger

[analogwriting]

Childhood Crush

Chapter 20: Adamantium

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.2k a/n: this is completely different than anything i've published so far so hopefully it's okay ;a; next

Captain…where was the captain? Was he okay? He doubted so, that blast had been insane. Even with Killer moving in front to protect his captain - he didn’t stand any kind of chance. Shanks was just too powerful.

On his back, breathing heavy, staring at the sky above. He's praying to whatever deity, or maybe the universe, that this isn’t the end but he's pretty sure it might be. He tries to think of how he got here; all the events that led up to this moment but he can't even form a coherent thought right now. He can’t even move to see if he can find his captain; hell, he can hardly keep his eyes open. They slowly flutter shut as the world around him goes black.

His heart feels like it's beating out of his chest. He never thought...he couldn't believe that he'd go out like this. Not this soon. He thought there'd be more of some kind of a fight; not being annihilated by a single blow. He’s searching for a lifeline he just can’t reach. His vision starts blurring as the light starts to fade. Water suddenly surrounds his body - did he fall into the ocean? He can’t even swim now, so he’ll probably end up sinking. He slowly falls unconscious once more.

Inhale. Exhale.

Looks like someone fished him out of the water, he can breathe but not easily. With each inhale followed by its exhale, he swears his ribs are breaking. It wouldn't surprise him if they punctured his lungs soon. The pain, it’s unrelenting. He’s ready for the end if that means all of this would end… Going out at twenty-seven? He supposed he made it further than most pirates, but he still feels like he could’ve gone further. Voices can be heard, but he can’t make anything out. Again, his world goes black. 

Suddenly, his life is flashing before his eyes like some kind of movie. The highs, the lows, his accomplishments, and everything that never happened; most of them are memories of you. There was so much that was unsaid - so much that he wanted to tell you. He had told himself he would finally tell you everything when you returned from Wano, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen now.

Naturally, the first memory to surface was when he had met you. The captain and him had just gotten their asses handed to them by Victoria for laughing at her when she spilled brown curry all over herself. They had retreated to the captain’s house. Eustass had burst into his sibling’s room to declare not to come into his room, which, of course, would arouse suspicion for anyone. Not moments later, you had burst into the captain's room with such a confident look on your face that you had caught your brother doing something devious. You immediately swept him off his feet; had taken his breath away. It was love at first sight. He was certain he’d never seen anyone so radiant; his world had grown a little brighter that day.

It only grew from there. Seeing the way you cared for the captain and everyone else, it was admirable. You were patient with them; caring and kind. You never once complained about having everyone over or having so many mouths to feed. After all, it was only you providing for the lot of you for a long time. You had dropped out of school just to take care of the captain and you didn’t even bat an eye. You didn’t even hesitate to do what you needed to make sure that Eustass had everything he could ever need. You never once seemed to regret it. You were so strong in more ways than one.

The scene shifted to the first time you taught him how to cook. You taught him how to make spaghetti from scratch. You could've just bought box noodles, but you had gone the extra mile to really show off your own skills and show him how to really cook. You were patient with him despite him being really bad in the beginning. You never once lost your temper with him or raised your voice. Honestly, it's probably why spaghetti ended up being his favorite food - because it reminded him of you. Of the warmth you made him feel that day. 

Each and every time you saved their asses from their own dumb decisions, it only solidified his love for you. You displayed such strength and grace when you fought, never once becoming overwhelmed, no matter how many opponents stood in your way. You always came out on top without hardly breaking a sweat. He admired you for that. You never hesitated in your actions. All they had to say was that someone was in trouble and you jumped into action with no questions asked; no complaints. Sure, there was teasing, but it was light hearted and you never meant it.

Eustass noticed Killer’s crush on you back on the island. He had been staring just a little too long one day and as Eustass had put it, “You just had a look on your face.” He had teased him relentlessly about it, but also kept pushing him to confess. Killer kept coming up with excuses as to why he couldn't. You probably only saw him as a brother as you did the others. The captain tried to argue that point; saying that the both of you acted more like a domestic couple than anything else. You both were practically parents of the other three. 

The captain was actually the one who had given him the photo of you. It had been as a joke at first. "Take a picture, it lasts longer." It was a photo of you stitching up one of them, but you had been laughing at something that someone had said. Seeing you like that had taken his breath away. He loved it when you laughed, it was the most beautiful thing to him. He was so in love with you that it hurt.

Little did the captain know that Killer did end up keeping that photo. It stayed in his helmet - it was his treasure.

Heat and Wire caught on not long after and the teasing only grew worse from there. They had noticed when he started developing the habit of holding on to your hips whenever you would patch him up. Even still, he never said anything. He just thought you were out of his league, too good for him; much to everyone else’s dismay. They just wanted him to confess, but they weren’t about to do it for him.

When he had seen you near death in that alleyway - that was the first time Killer had experienced true anger. Someone pulling dirty tricks to get to you - you didn't deserve that. You never attacked out of turn, you had only ever attacked as defense. Never started a fight, just ended it. You were always just playing clean up. Cleaning up their messes and it had gotten you hurt. You were his ray of sunshine and he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone take that away from him. He felt like he had failed you that day somehow - like it was his fault you had ended up that way. He made a silent vow to make sure no one ever hurt you like that ever again.

After the attack, you weren’t the same. You were more skittish, had lost your sparkle and shine. All that confidence you had was gone. You did your best to pretend it didn't bother you, but he could see right through you. Aside from Eustass, no one could read you better than Killer. He still loved you with every ounce of his being, no matter what happened. He just wanted to hold you close and tell you that everything was alright, that he’d protect you from harm. Though, he still blamed himself somewhat for what happened, so he kept his distance.

Then he saw a shift in your personality out at sea. You had been growing your confidence back. You were happy and full of life again. You would cook with him, help your brother with some projects, even taught Heat and Wire how to smith. You still had your moments, but you seemed happy. You had your groove back for the most part. He was happy to see you in your element once more.

When you opened up to him on the island, his heart ached for you. Seeing you talk about yourself in such a manner, he couldn’t understand why you had thought that way. Everyone cherished you so much. It didn’t matter that you couldn’t fight anymore because you did everything in your power to help out wherever you could. He was determined to help you see just how much you meant to everyone; and for a moment, he thought it worked.

Something happened that created that drastic shift in your mood. Later, it was to be shown it was Kese, but at the time he couldn't understand. You started really pulling away and it had concerned everyone. No one knew what was going on. Everyone tried talking to you at one point or another, but you shut everyone out. 

Then you announced you were going to leave the crew. It wasn't forever, but it ended up feeling like it. He had been upset just as Eustass had been, but he knew you had your reasons and he respected that. If this would help you, then he’d gladly let you take some time. After all, he said he’d never make you do something that you didn’t want to do.

It was during your departure that the terrible news came. The news that you had been taken from them far too soon. He was absolutely devastated just as the captain had been - everyone was. He felt like his world was crumbling. He did some stupid things - things he knew you would never have approved of - right along with the captain. The both of them held little value of their own lives, growing reckless in their actions.

The events of Wano then happened. He didn't recall too much of what happened in the snowfield. He wasn't fully himself when that happened and you were covered head to toe in robes. 

But when you showed up, saving their asses just like you used to? Looking radiant and fantastic? He was pretty sure he had died and went to whatever heaven right then and there. He figured it had been a mix up cause there's no way he'd end up there, but as long as you were there, he didn't care. You looked like the guardian angel you had always been. The confidence you once held was back and he fell in love with you all over again. That shine, that sparkle, your shit eating grin, and cocky way you spoke - he had missed it so much. 

He could hardly speak let alone move, he had been so glad he wore a helmet because he wouldn’t have been able to keep anything hidden. His heart would’ve been on his sleeve at that moment.

Both him and Eustass had honestly thought you were a hallucination after you left once again. They assumed they had just had a close run in with death and wanted to see you one more time so they both imagined you. Or your spirit had swooped down to save their asses one last time before ascending back to the heavens. There was just no way that they were that lucky - that the universe would bring you back to them just because.

Only to their surprise when you showed up with the rest of the crew. You were actually there - alive. You were smiling, laughing, and arguing with Eustass. Everything was right again. They both tried not to dwell on it too much because they both knew they wouldn’t be able to hold it together in the slightest.

He had wanted so badly to tell you how much he loved you - how much he always loved you. But, with what happened with the SMILE fruit, he just felt like he wasn't worthy of your love. Whatever confidence he had somehow gotten had been shattered because of the damn fruit. Insecurity took over, he felt like a monster. A monster you could never love.

Though, you never once showed an ounce of fear or disgust. Not even in the snowfields. That much he remembered. From the moment you had seen him both as Kamazo and as himself, both times he had only seen sympathy in your eyes. You saw right through his smile, you knew there was nothing but pain and sadness behind it. Even when you heard his hideous and terrible laugh, it didn’t seem to phase you in the slightest.

He had almost confessed to you that night in the kitchen. However, with everything else that happened and your welcoming aura, just you being back and in his arms, the miracle of you being alive, he broke down. You didn't judge him though, you didn't make him feel weak for doing so. It felt like the most natural thing, like it was okay for him to not be strong all the time, like he could finally let go. He felt he could relax again. You were there in his arms and safe. You held on to him in a way that gave him the resolve to keep going. He knew as long as you were around - things would be right. He could be content with just being by your side.

Then you dropped the bomb that you were staying behind again. The amount of anxiety he had felt when he first heard this was astronomical. Who was going to protect you? Why were you staying? Did you get into a fight with Eustass? He couldn't see why you'd want to stay. Especially not after what had happened last time. The excuse you gave the crew, he saw right through it. There was a reason you were staying but you weren’t telling anyone. Why?

It didn't help that you wouldn't tell him the truth either. What could it have been that you couldn't even tell him? You two had always been transparent with each other. The both of you always went to each other for everything. There were no secrets between the two of you. Well, except for his massive secret of being in love with you all this time. 

Seeing the determination in your eyes, you had your heart set on it; and who was he to stop you from achieving whatever it was you had your heart set on? He knew it had to be important if it meant you'd be leaving the crew again. Eustass seemed to know why you were staying, but he also wouldn't tell anyone. It must have been a very good reason considering that the captain was a blabbermouth and couldn’t hardly keep any form of secret to himself. It also must have been a very good reason for him to allow you to stay behind.

Killer had tried to get the information out of him. And he almost did. 

"I'll tell you, but only if you finally tell them how you feel." 

That's what he had said and, dammit, he tried. Killer had never been one to convey his feelings in the least. He just wasn't good at it - especially when it came to you. You were just so perfect and so out of reach to him that when he tried any kind of confession, he ended up tongue tied. How could he admit his feelings for someone that he held so dear? What if everything went south? He couldn’t stand to lose you in any capacity - he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

The night of the festival, he had taken the biggest risk he'd ever had. Sure, it started out of genuine concern. You were spiraling and he could tell - it had kind of been his fault for reopening such a fresh wound. He reached out, putting his hand on your thigh in an attempt to ground you. You seemed to come back and even welcome the touch. You visibly relaxed to his touch and he couldn’t help but…keep it there.

So, he decided to keep his hand there and you didn't push him away. That told him everything he needed to know. That little bit of contact that you allowed, and even seemed to enjoy, was more telling than words could give him. The both of you had always been able to communicate more silently. You were connected in that way. Words weren’t really needed.

Again, he didn't say anything. He didn't feel it was the right time. He didn't want you to feel like it was some last ditch effort to keep you on the ship. He decided that he'd finally say something whenever he saw you again - much to the captain's dismay. Eustass just wanted him to stop overthinking everything and get it out. Though, there seemed to be a silent agreement between you and Killer after that night. One that said there was going to be some kind of conversation when you were reunited.

And now, he'd never get the chance. You were in Wano, probably seeing the vivre card slowly burning, not knowing what to do. You told them not to go and get themselves killed, yet here he was, more than likely dying. Right along with his captain - your brother.

In the haze of his subconscious, he saw a face. Your face. You were leaning over him, saying something in a panic. Did you find him? Did whatever celestial being that's out there decide to give him mercy and bring you to him? Or was this all a dream? 

Maybe this was a second chance, another life to live. No, he couldn't be that lucky. He was surprised he was still alive - was he alive? Or was he in limbo right now? He had no idea.

He did notice that your blurry face was crying. Why, in his last moments, would he imagine you crying? Was it because of the guilt he was currently feeling? You were going to be left all alone. Well, he wasn’t even sure how much of the other crew had survived if at all. 

He knew that he probably wouldn’t survive, probably not the captain either. He had no idea where the rest of the crew was. He felt like a failure. He had failed to protect the grew, failed to keep his promise to you, failed you.

How could you forgive him? He wouldn't blame you if you were mad at him for the rest of your life. There were so many things left unsaid between the both of you. He felt you pull his head against your chest. Was this real? Or still the last ditch attempt to feel you in some way before he died?

"Everything's alright. Don't be afraid. Close your eyes - rest." 

Those words rang through clear as day before he finally let go of consciousness once more.

[earako]

A/N: idea from @goodtimeswithluigi thanks for the flangst fuel ^^

-/-

The thing that sucked about having memories erased and then coming back is that only some of them decided to be polite and slowly trickle in. Waddles, the kids, those memories poured in like the gentle trickle of water from a watering can. More immediate memories like Soos and Wendy slowly flowed in and filled the small pond in Stan's mind that was probably labelled 'family-' not that he'd ever admit it outloud.

Then there were the older memories. The ones that made it feel like Stan had just rammed his head in a brick wall for hours on end. Older memories usually. Stuff like high school, Glass Shard Beach, Ma's perfume, and Pa's suffocating cologne that even the memory of made Stan's head hurt.

Then...then there were the memories that made Stan want to curl up in bed all day. Those...those were usually memories of his grifter days. Or the science fair incident. The combination of having to live through the worst moments of his life, feeling all the hurt and pain and heartache and having to go through the emotional rollercoaster that was his late teens to early 30s over and over and over again. The late nights, the portal, the journals, slapping on a fake smile as Stanlely desperately tried to keep a con going long enough to pay off the house and loans because he'd be damned if his brother didn't have a house to come back to.

This morning was a memories that made Stan want to rot in bed kind of day.

His oh so wonderful brain decided to wake Stan up with the phantom feeling of gaping wounds where wings were supposed to be.

And here Stan had thought he was just born without them. An anomoly type thing, like his brothers fingers.

The searing phantom pain in his back said otherwise.

Stan tried to ignore it. Bit the pillow and tried to will himself back to sleep.

The pain pulsed again.

Stan huffed an irritated sigh and slowly pushed himself up, rolling onto his side with some difficulty and managing to sit up.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Stan hissed to himself as he slowly got to his feet. "Sweet Moses, phantom pains a bitch," he murmered, slowly making his way downstairs to either the kitchen or the living room. He'd decide later whether the phantom pain required a t.v distraction or a food distraction.

"Stanley?"

"Ford?" Huh. Guess tonight was gonna be a brother distraction. Stanley ambled his way over to where Ford was hunched over the kitchen table, a mug gripped tightly in his hands.

Stan's back twinged again. He tried to hide it, grit his teeth, hid the pained gasp with a groan as he sat. Ford raised an eyebrow.

"And you're up because?"

"Hey, back at ya, Si- Poindexter," Stan replied, taking mind to avoid using the name the isoceles bastard had tainted- and how dare he, how DARE he! That was Stan's name first, that was the name Stan gave his brother to keep away the bullies and the bad thoughts that thought having one extra finger made someone an unlovable freak- if Stan had another chance to deck the discount dorito he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"You first," Ford grumbled, sipping what better not be coffee cause the last thing Ford needed on top of the stress of everything was more caffiene. Stanely narrowed his eyes at his twin.

"I asked first."

"Respect your elders."

"By fifteen minutes-ack!" Where Stan had been aiming for playful banter, his back decided now would be a good time to remember having muscle and sinew twisted, ripped, cut, then for the hell of it, tied into various knots. All while past Stan's screams were ringing into current Stan's ears.

A chair scraped, a cup clattered onto the table. Six fingered hands settled themselves on Stan's shoulder and were he caught up any further in the flashback Stan would have pushed the hands away.

Thankfully his phantom pain addled brain was in the present enough to recognize the six fingered hand was his brother and brother meant safe.

Stan violently squashed down the part of him that remembered holding up a hand for a high six only to get the curtains closed on him.

"Stan? Stanley?"

"Phantom pains a bitch," Stan mumbled, breath hitching and stifling down another pained groan. Without needing to be asked, cautious hands slowly made their way to where the base of where Stan's wings used to be and pressed down a bit. Stan shuddered.

"Hurts?"

"God no, do that again," Stan sighed as his twin began to chase away the pain and exhaustion radiating out of his back with nimble fingers. He hissed a few times.

Silence. Fabric rustling as Ford rubbed firm circles on Stan's back.

Ticking of the grandfather clock.

The sink dripping, Soos said he's fix it tomorrow.

Stan's exhales as Ford worked the tension out of his muscles.

It would've been nice, plesant even if it weren't for the worry nibbling at the corner of Stan's mind.

Ford was going to ask, wasn't he.

He was going to ask about the wings, moreso Stan's lack of wings, and then Stan was going to have to remember that memory and the spots where his wings seemed to be just would not stop throbbing! Ford's fingers were doing a good job of easing some of the pain the scars still screamed.

"Hey...Stan..." his twin began. Stan internally braced himself. He didn't want to talk about it but if Ford asked...

"Yeah?

"Ah, it's...nothing. I forgot what I was going to say."

Ford was always a shit liar.

And with the silence that followed Stan almost wished his twin had just asked instead of trying to spare his feelings.

-/-

""Ah, it's...nothing. I forgot what I was going to say." Ford clumsily lied, returning his focus to easing some of his twins pain.

He managed to distract himself for 5 seconds before his brain finally latched onto the issue bothering him.

His brother didn't have wings.

Ford's brother didn't.

Have.

Wings.

Now, that wasn't to say that being wingless never happened. Similar to his own polydactyly, some people just weren't born with wings.

Stan wasn't one of those people.

Ford remembered feathers brushing up against his own, large, proud wings curled protectively around him as Stanley told Crampelter and his gang to go suck an egg.

He remembered gentle hands going through his feathers, fixing them up and getting rid of old ones.

Ford remembered flapping his wings happily then instructing his twin to turn around, it was Stan's turn for preening.

Ford remembered how big Stanley's wings would puff up when he was angry or defending Ford from bullies.

And Ford remembered Stan's wings wrapping around himself whenever he accidentally caught their father on a bad day.

Stanley had wings, Ford knew Stanley had wings.

When Stanley was kicked out left he still had his his wings, Ford remembered them shaking, then drooping, and then puffing up again in hurt and anger.

And now Stan's wings were gone. He didn't have them anymore.

At first Ford had thought Stan was hiding them, similar to what Ford did with his own wings. He had thought his twin was just keeping his wings tucked away and safe beneath his clothes.

Then the fearymid happened.

And the clothing switch.

If Stan still had his wings Ford should've still been able to see them in his periphery when he reached behind his back to hand Stan his sweater, coat, and gloves. But he didn't.

And Ford had hoped that it was just because his brother was keeping his wings tucked close to him. He hoped he just couldn't see his brothers wings and tried to ignore the persistent voice asking what if Stan didn't have wings anymore? What if something happened to him?

Stan should have been fine, he was the personality, the free spirit.

Stan was supposed to be fine.

He wasn't.

And when Ford had switched clothes back with his now empty of all memories twin he was met with a cold, painful truth he could no longer deny.

Stan no longer had wings.

Ford's baby brother, his younger twin, had no wings.

Long, angry, jagged scars were all that was left of where large, dark brown, thick feathered wings should have been.

Someone or something had taken his brothers wings. And with how the skin looked Ford could only assume whoever or whatever had taken Stanley's wings yanked them out the same way a person would pull out a weed from a garden.

Ford didn't say anything, didn't want to add the pain and trauma that was obvious from where he was rubbing circles on Stan's back. That, on top of trying to help Stan regain his memories, it would have been too much. Stan would have been overloaded, asking about the wings while Stan was still regaining memories would have done far more harm than good

But Stan knew now, at least Ford assumed he did. Stan said phantom pains. Phantom pains were from injuries or lost limbs.

Stan knew he lost his wings, he must have. And Ford wanted to know, he wanted answers, targets, a hit list. He wanted to kniw the stories that hud beneath the skin where he could feel knotted sinew, muscles, and nerves.

He truly did not like the story the raised ridges and bumped on his brothers skin told.

Ford's hands began to press harder.

"Ford, FordFordFord ease up!" Stan yelped, squirming under Ford's hands.

"Sorry! Sorry," Ford said, taking his hands off Stan's back as if he had burned him (and he tried not to think of the brand just behind Stanley's right shoulder-)

"I didn't say stop, just ease up," Stan grumbled with no real heat or annoyance. Ford flexed his fingers, tried to ignore the, what he couod only describes as dried gore beneath Stan's skin, and returned to easing up his twins phantom pain.

He had to ask.

He needed to ask.

But he didn't know how and the silence that started out comfortable was turning oppressive and it would just be awkward at this point, what with Ford starting to say something and then saying he forgot.

Stan wasn't buying it. Out of the two of them Ford never got the hang of lying, at least not as well as Stan.

The questions sat in his throat, but Stan was so vulnerable with Ford at the moment, showing more trust in him now then he in the past weeks since Ford came back. Even while temporarily amnesic Stan was still fairly closed off and guarded, the fact that he hadn't told Ford to leave, that he was even letting Ford try and help with his pain?

Stan was like a wild animal when it came to his pain. He hated showing weakness, even to his own family and it only got worse as they grew older. Ford didn't want to break the delicate trust being placed in him at the moment by asking a boneheaded question or saying something that Stan would take the wrong way and causing him to march back upstairs, phantom pain be damned.

"Ford, I know you want to ask already so just say it." Ford jolted, hands momentarily stopping their movement. Stan leaned back, silently begging Ford to continue.

How much pain was Ford's twin in for him to be actively seeking out help? Stan hated asking for help.

He continued rubbing his twin's back when he felt Stan press up against his hand a second time.

"...How long?"

"You wanna be more specific?"

"I- when you- 30 years ago I thought you were just. Hiding them. Like I was." Stan's shoulders quaked with a low, humourless sounding chuckle.

"Nah, old things were gone long before that, si- poindexter." It was Ford's turn to wince.

That was always Stan's name for him. That name, only Stan was supposed to call him that yet Bill had to go and taint it and he didn't even come up with that nickname to begin with how dare he-

"You stopped again." Stan commented. Ford apologized but Stan just shrugged it off.

"S'fine now." Stan leaned away from Ford's hand's, rolled his shoulder's, then started back towards the stairs,

"Wait," Ford called, quickly grabbing Stan's wrist to stop him. His twin turned around and raised a brow in question.

"Are-whoever- you'd tell me if they were still alive, right?" Ford asked, the hand not holding Stan's wrist hovering over where wings used to be, where strong roots for strong wings were now just planes of ugly, angry, broken and mutilated skin.

Ford had never felt so angry in his life when he saw those scars. Not even when his perpetual motion machine broke.

"Even if they were, they're good at hiding."

"I'm good at seeking."

"Ford, drop it." The command lilted upwards at the end, sounding more like a question instead.

"Stanley. Your wings."

"Ack, they've been gone for more then 40 years now, what can ya do."

"Help with phantom pains apparently, and you will let me help you with them in the future." When Stan opened his mouth to protest Ford added, "Either you let me help you with your phantom pains or I dig into your past, find everyone who had ever hurt you, and interrogate them until one of them confesses to taking your wings."

Stan stared at Ford for a solid three seconds before answering. "Jesus, okay, okay, I'll let you know when the phantom pain acts up again."

"I will know if you're hiding it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Ford." Stan turned around again and went to head up the stairs but paused at the base of the steps for a moment.

"Hey uh..thanks, by the way. Not just for the back rub but for the uh. Memories and stuff, ya'know."

"You're stuck with me, knucklehead," Ford said, stepping closer to his twin and lightly tapping a fist against his shoulder. "If you get to spend 30 years bringing my stubborn ass back from various different dimensions I get to spend the next 30 years fussing over you."

"You can barely look after yourself."

"I'll learn." He opened his fist and squeezed Stan's shoulder, hoping it would convey what he didn't know how to say in words. Silent I love you's, thank you for not giving up on me, thank you for trusting me, and thank you for not giving up on me, he hoped that Stan got the message because if Ford even tried to say any of that at the moment he'd end up fumbling or choking in his words.

Stan reached up and squeezed Ford's hand back, understanding shining in his eyes.

His brother didn't have wings, and Ford could try to blame himself all he wanted to.

Guilt wouldn't bring Stan's wings back, feeling sorry for Stan wouldn't bring his wings back.

But Stan didn't seem to blame Ford so Ford wouldn't blame himself.

Stan trusted Ford with his pain. Ford would do his best to make sure his twins trust isn't misplaced.

They'd be okay.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 13 thoughts

so i read the description of this episode and i was thinking to myself, yeah, this one seems believable. i keep loosely acquainted with the drama of the funeral world, and after learning of the harvard morgue scandal of last summer, i was like. well. the truth echoes art, i guess.

but that was the POINT of the episode- that the real world is scary, even without vampires and bigfoot!

so we begin with a funeral for a poor little girl. and it is an open casket, which is upsetting, and these little kids that i assume were her classmates are looking in. and then to make it even MORE upsetting, this creepy man working the event shows up and starts... touching her hair...

boy, i hope that child actress got a fat check for that very uncomfy bit part.

next we see a man eating an ice pop in the embalming room, to which i say: king. and he's hearing some weird stuff, and who emerges but... donnie!

(donnie's the guy who was stroking her hair... and he's holding scissors... and the girl's hair is scattered all over the floor...)

donnie briefly morphed into a demon, and ice pop man banishes donnie from his realm upon realizing he cut the little girl's hair. he says "i should report you" but i don't think he actually did.

(PRO TIP: if you are in a workplace where this type of event happens, please do file a report)

anyway. agent time. they're arriving in a graveyard. and i saw a gif this morning of mulder lifting the caution tape up so scully can get her umbrella in!!! it is suuuuch a cute moment. and a tiny consolation for the agony the rest of this episode produced.

the policeman is blabbering on about aliens and says to mulder, "you know andy" and he says "no i don't" "well, he knows you" which is sooooo funny. another example of mulder being famous amongst the nerd population.

poor scully looks absolutely horrified at this little girl's desecrated body...

and while the policeman thinks it's aliens, which may be a first, mulder does not, which again may be a first, because he says he's seen cases like this before

"you okay, scully?" he asks, noticing that she is Not Okay, but seeming unsure of how to approach the situation. she insists that she is, and perhaps he accepts this at face value.

they share an umbrella <3 but whilst doing this she's deeply shaken, and says she's surprised he isn't bothered. he says he prepared himself, and i thought he was going to elaborate on what preparing yourself for a case like this looks like, but he didn't

and she's shocked that they drove all the way here for a case that isn't aliens... why did we come here then?

because he got them tickets to a football game. LMAOOOOO this man........... football date night. it does not sound pleasurable to me but maybe watching his nerdy face light up would make up for the misery. i was giggling here. he wanted to take her out and show her his culture.

okay so now we're back to donnie. he's applying for a new job. he says he used to be a cosmetologist.

NOOOOO they had to miss their game because there are more bodies dug up and violated... and since this took place in the 90's they didn't even have facebook marketplace to try and sell their tickets beforehand... this is truly a devastating loss </3

and did they show a football player with the same name as the dude who runs this show... you can't sneak that stuff by me...

scully has to walk out after seeing the pictures of the crime scene and i'm already so deeply sad for her but oh boy, past me, wait a bit and see where all this goes!

mulder says that the police need to put an alert out NOW and the policeman is all "well we don't have a whole lot of guys on the squad so it might take awhile :(" THEN HURRY??? mulder says he thinks this dude is gonna kill someone and you're gonna complain about lack of resources???? WORK OVERTIME???

poor scully is sososo shaken and mulder pops his head out to where she was sitting... he says he'll cancel their plane tickets so they can stay longer and she's just staring out into the distance... SOMEONE HELP MY QUEEN PLEASE

then we get a glasses and takeout moment as the agents come up with a profile for a guy who steals body parts from dead people

donnie sees a woman on the side of the road- a working woman, if you will- and he takes her back to his place. and this woman is sooo pretty. but he's running her a bath and marty i'm scared.

(wait i just realized i can straight up insert the reaction images i'm referring to on here)

HE IS OBSESSED WITH HAIR... first the little girl's, and now he asks this woman if she needs shampoo for chemically treated hair...

he goes to take a phone call- congrats, you got the job- and she sees his room is FILLED with wreaths from funerals. and she might be naked but i was still yelling at the screen GIRL YOU NEED TO RUN!!!!!!

well. we cut to body time. so we know how that went. it is a spectacularly bloody body. and our freak has escalated from desecrating graves to killing real people.

mulder wants to go look at the body and asks scully to come but she can't bring herself to do it. WHY IS NO ONE NOTICING THE STRESS SHE IS IN. HOW CAN WE TAKE STEPS TO AID HER.

(i think that mulder is trying his best to Not Make A Big Deal out of her visible distress to make her feel better, and instead just gives her space and respects her lack of desire to discuss the whole thing. because there is no way he doesn't actually notice)

now donnie is on the job as a grocery deliveryman. which i am familiar with as i do use doordash occasionally. but the woman whose house he's delivering too just. LETS HIM IN??? to pack up the groceries. is this how the job worked at the time... can anyone confirm or deny... because i'm trying to imagine welcoming the doordash or instacart guy coming in and putting the food away for me... and i feel my skin crawl... what a textbook murder situation...

and if that isn't bad enough, the woman tells donnie they have 3 daughters and leave the backdoor open........ this does not bode well for the plot....

he asks to go to their bathroom and he digs through their trash to find a clump of hair and he SNIFFS it and then pockets it... we need someone to deal with this man with a QUICKNESS.

scully is in autopsy mode now, and unlike her usual very professional self, she looks like she is going to pass out conducting this one. which is remarkable because she has seen some nasty stuff, but this is what puts her over the edge.

in her report, she's writing about how every autopsy tells the story of a life, and that being killed for someone to take a piece of your body is perhaps the most dehumanizing death imaginable

someone who saw this freak donnie says that he looked like an ordinary guy, so this is gonna be a tough search. so mulder is going into deep psychoanalysis mode, saying it must be driven by a very intense hatred of women. which seems fair. i'll trust the oxford trained fellow.

now donnie is in class and he sees a woman and we know what's coming, but when he approaches her and tries to get creepy, she kicks him away and manages to run!!!! thank god honestly we could use a victory.

the phone wakes up scully from a nightmare where she sees the same demon we saw earlier and also SHE was the one on the autopsy table- but mulder says they have a suspect at the station. and i'm like, yes! they're gonna get him!

but it isn't him that they get! they brought someone else in, and we SEE donnie watching their interview moment and this was the narrative taunting me

mulder can no longer try and ignore scully being so on edge, and he says "scully, if you're having trouble with this case, i want you to tell me" and my first reaction was, king, do you have eyes, she has been about to collapse this whole time. but now i see he is doing the best he can to put the ball in her court, and yet she STILL denies it. lies straight to his face.

"i'm not having trouble", she says <- okay so we all see that this isn't true but i respect that he's trying to be mindful of her boundaries. however i would have been like hey queen let's get you out of here <3

"i just don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me", he says, and i kiss each of my fingers like i just savored a delicious meal, because that is EXACTLY what i wanted this man to say. mmm angst. just what i had ordered.

so donnie is asking the guy who DID get questioned what they were talking to him about, and what their names were, and he remembers scully's name because she has the same name as a baseball announcer i guess? and then they let the donnie go -_-

she goes back to DC to get a fingerprint read on the body but says something about maybe not flying back to the case that night... she did NOT want to be there!!!!!

at this point we learn that the FBI has an on sight therapist, which honestly makes perfect sense... but man. this scene.

she's referring to herself in the second person, talking about how you have to become used to seeing death in med school and in fbi, and she's distancing herself to try and cope. and the therapist brings up losing her father and her coma, and asks if she feels uncomfortable with her partner, and she's like no, i trust him with my life.

wow. that's incredible. but!

"i don't want him to feel like he has to protect me"

and i cannot imagine a world in which mulder, the protector, would ever NOT try and guard those he loves like some sort of snarling beast. but she must still feel horrible after just coming out of a coma, and he had been so scared to welcome her back, let her come on the missions, she had to PROVE herself, and she can't make herself feel guilty knowing he'll see her as something to protect.

(as if there was ever going to be another way)

so yeah i was basically barking at the screen here.

she says she's lost faith, and she needs it back. and where do you get faith these days?

but, while she was away, they found a print. she calls mulder to tell him this and decides that she'll fly back that night.

"anyway, you could use my help" "always" <- what if i started crying.

but someone called for her while she was away... and i knew it was that donnie freak........... foreshadowing....

so the agents trace the prints to donnie and bust into his house, where they find his endless funeral wreaths and even a FINGER in the fridge, but no donnie

and this is just as scully is arriving from the airport AND DONNIE IS STALKING HER. and i wrote, donnie, i will get u with my bare hands.

and he HITS HER CAR and DRIVES HER OFF OF THE ROAD and then mulder comes to the scene and they find her car but no SCULLY

back at donnie's place, he is running a bath and my screen was dark enough to see my face in the reflection and it could best be described as looking like that dizzy emoji. "oh girl i am UNCOMFY", i wrote, but in a sort of horror way that you expect from the genre.

she's tied up in his closet and sees him as a DEMON again which is more evidence that she has had to endure SO MUCH and i'm getting duane berry flashbacks with the gag in her mouth and i'm feeling a profound level of defensiveness for a person who does not exist

mulder is stressed, there are no witnesses, and he's pissed, he says "there are people that can videotape police beatings on darkened streets, they manage to spot elvis in 3 cities across america every day, but no one saw a pretty woman being forced off the road in her rental car"

AUGHHHH his bloodhound nature, need to find answers, is kicking in again.

(and also he thinks she's pretty)

so back at donnie's place, he is approaching rapidly with a knife, and mulder is sleuthing. the car they found was donnie's mother's car, so maybe they're at donnie's mother's place... but he is PICKING UP THE KNIFE AS MULDER SPEAKS

he ASKS ABOUT HER HAIR to properly shampoo it which is SO FREAKY but she manages to BREAK AWAY by shoving him into the tub. yes yes those FBI agent skills are kicking in!!!

shes hiding and he yells "there's no way out, girly girl" which briefly took me out of the scene because i just know that he would have said "girly pop" if the writers had their hands on that phrase and it was distracting but still. STILL.

she's hiding in the closet and he opens the door and she SPRAYS HIM WITH ROACH SPRAY and runs and they're tussling about when...

MULDER BREAKS DOWN THE DOOR and sees her!!!! he's calling for paramedics while the policemen take care of donnie

and the first thing she says to him is "i'm okay", reassuring him despite her awful situation, perhaps referring to her mostly uninjured body, but she's shaking like a leaf, and she just keeps saying that she's fine, she's fine, until he lifts her chin up to look at her face...

and she starts SOBBING into his chest. he's got his fingers in her hair and he's mumbling "it's okay" to her again and again and. i could feel my heart melting. i was a mere puddle of a human being at this moment. it's okay. it's okay.

there is something i think you will understand that is so rich about seeing characters hit their breaking point. it tells the audience so much about them- here we see that scully's biggest fear is the evil that lies in the ordinary, in the idea that anyone could be a monster, that this is a world of constant fear, and how do you try and rationalize the things that humanity is capable of doing? how do you walk down the street knowing that someone, anyone that passes you by could be a devil, metaphorically speaking? and she doesn't have the luxury of believing that it could be some outside force- some aliens, or evil vampires- manipulating people into doing their bidding, like mulder does. she knows that it is flesh and blood people that she sees everyday at the grocery store or next door or even those she autopsies, that do horrific things. and that there is a capacity for that in anyone, and no way to keep yourself or those you love entirely safe. what is there in this cold world of facts if there isn't faith? and again, where do you get more faith when you run out?

(and, of course, her deep and terrible fear of needing protection. needing to rely on someone that isn't just herself. of inadequacy. how scary that must be for a person who sees the terror in the rest of the world)

so yeah. love to see a character break. and i love it even MORE when we get to see someone they love comfort them. hurt/comfort trope remains undefeated.

the episode ends with mulder writing the case report and talking of very similar things as i just rambled on about- about humans being demons, and demons being what humanity comes up with to explain that- but this is delivered over a slideshow of donnie's childhood pictures to emphasize how he was just the boy next door, except that honestly he looked like young sheldon. so i was a bit taken out of the whole thing.

so yeah. this episode did not leave me with the warmest and fuzziest of feelings, but in terms of horror it was definitely one of the scariest so far, again because the entire lack of supernatural causes. i mean you could choose to interpret that this guy genuinely WAS a demon, but i think that defeats the purpose of the episode and scully's character study we get as a result. i was spooked, but we still had some good moments, such as attempted football date.

overall, i thought this episode was great. and we could talk about how the creepy killer was super queer coded, and discuss if this was done in bad faith, which could be an interesting conversation- but i find it not entirely relevant to the overarching theme. like, the scary part was that he wanted to keep your fingers, not that he called scully "girly girl", and i didn't get the sense that those two things were being equated in the episode.

now give me 10 beach episodes, or perhaps a journey to a museum, or a spa, or the mountains, or an ice-skating trip with matching scarves worn by our agents, or a day at the mall. really i don't ask for a lot!

[zuzusexytiems]

31 today! 🫶🏼 grateful for many things: for my friends and my followers, for still finding joy in creating, and—at this age—for not turning into a soulless, corporate blob like I thought I would 😅

thanks to everyone who's stuck around this long! dw, I'm not leaving any time soon 🫡🩷

[jazz-downtown]

Husband is gone for the day, quick time for a nude shower then slutty BG3!!!

[whateverisbeautiful]

So I am trying to get my friends to watch TOWL so I can have people to talk about it with. They stopped watching TWD a while ago and are interested in the spin off but aren't in a rush. I tried to explain that is so different from the main show but I don't know how to explain it without spoilers.

How would you describe the show to get someone excited to watch?

This is a good one. Your question made me think - especially because I wanted to figure out a way to describe the show that wasn't just from my richonne-stan perspective (because my initial description is 'it's a beautifully mesmerizing exploration of the best soulmates on TV finding each other again in every way after years apart.') But here's how I'd describe The Ones Who Live, without being too spoilery and from a slightly broader audience perspective:

In 9 seasons of Rick Grimes on TWD, he’s overcome a lot of arcs, a lot of trials, and a lot of face-offs, but there’s one thing we’ve never really seen in the main show - and that’s seeing Rick have to do any of that without his family. That’s an element of The Ones Who Live that’s new (and devastating) because it shows us a Rick we’ve never seen before since we’ve never seen Rick go this long without any family around. And considering family is everything that fuels him to keep fighting and keep living, this TOWL era is essentially his hardest chapter yet, especially mentally. With Rick in his absolute darkest state, it becomes extra compelling and extra complicated when Michonne - the brightest light in his world, his wife, his everything, and the greatest woman ever (had to stan a little bit🙌🏽) - abruptly comes back into his life after resiliently searching for her long lost love. But even when Michonne finds Rick, after going on her own journey and going through hell being away from her family too, she still has a long way to go before she finds her Rick. And as the show progresses, these soulmates both try to rescue each other from danger but they wrestle with having significantly different ideas of what that rescue should look like. TOWL explores how internal imprisonment is almost harder to escape than literal imprisonment and it powerfully answers the question of if love really is the key. 🗝️👌🏽

[thebigoblin]

On The Dance Floor

tags: Not Scott McCall Friendly, Inspired by a Song, Oneshot, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Getting Together, The Hale Pack 2.0, Fluff, Minor Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall

a/n: found this in my drafts tagged as "complete." figured i'll post this as a lil weekend treat <3 so cleaned it up a bit. i'll post this on ao3 tomorrow ig. also, real enemy is giving fics a fucking title.

now you can also read this fic on ao3.

White, marble tiles are eaten up by his black, formal shoes, his movements a little hurried as he veers off another corner of this event hall, almost braining himself against the wall. He stops just at the right moment, curses his clumsiness, and continues walking down the empty hallway to the dressing room. Everyone else is already in the main hall, sitting on the chairs, and Stiles Stilinski was there only moments before, so he knows they're waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Except, his dad is getting cold-feet, and despite Scott's attempts at being normal around his soon-to-be stepfather, and being a shoulder to lean on, the cold-feet is getting worse. At least, that's what Derek texted him, a short, concise depiction of whatever the hell must be happening in the dressing room.

And he trusts the Alpha, so he's quick in his steps and quicker with his breaths when he does open up the door and finds his dad pacing around the decently-sized room, his suit on, and complemented by a look of absolute panic on his face.

Scott is standing off to the side, like he always seems to be these days, and he's on the opposite side of Derek, far from him, like he always was and always will be. Some people don't change, and Stiles has learned that through experience he would rather not repeat.

"Dad," Stiles says, and that's all it takes for the dam to break. His dad gives a quick glance to Scott, his once-favorite son, and then pulls both Stiles and Derek towards him, his hands a little sweaty with dread. His dad knows being close and talking low wouldn't make a difference, but it's the principle of the thing, and for one split second he wonders what 16 year old him would have thought of this fact, of Derek being his dad's chosen son, and him himself being this close to his dad. And Scott not even being privy to the beauty of this relationship.

"What if she doesn't want me to? I love Melissa, I do, but Claudia- I don't know. I had a dream yesterday, Stiles, and she was just, she was just there! Just sitting on the beach, where I proposed to Melissa, right where Melissa was sitting. Was that, like, one of your supernatural dreams? Derek, you must know something about these sort of things. I don't think she wants me to—"

Derek cuts him off with a firm, "She wants nothing but happiness for you." He gives Stiles a quick look, asking silently if this is okay, because out of the four people in this room he's the only who didn't actually know her when she was alive. Stiles nods, and Derek continues, and his dad hangs onto every word out of Derek's mouth. "Today is a big day for you, and you're nervous, and it's okay, John. That dream was just a way for your subconscious to show up — this isn't the first time you've had this thought, have you?"

"No."

"That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. Just your nerves."

Stiles smiles softly at his dad. "Mom loves you," he moves forward to bring his dad in for a patented Stilinski hug. His voice is muffled when he insists, "She loved you when she was beside you, and she loves you now that she's watching over you. And she loves Melissa, too. I know she'll be the one smiling the biggest when you say 'I Do,' today."

His dad holds on for a little longer, and Stiles knows he's holding back tears when his dad says, "Okay," with a rough voice. He pulls back, takes a deep breath, pats Stiles on the shoulder twice, the way he always does, and gives a wobbly smile to Derek. He says, "Thanks, son," to both of them before looking at himself in the mirror.

"You look amazing."

"I'm so glad Lydia's mom was able to modify your original suit into this," Stiles adds to Derek's compliment, and Derek nods, repeats the sentiment of his dad looking amazing.

Scott chimes in, too, and his dad gives him a small smile. The relationship with him is strained, and if it was any other day Scott wouldn't even be in Beacon Hills, but it's his mom's wedding day, too. Stiles allows this one day, and if he didn't, he can't really stop Scott from being here. This is his hometown, too. They have their differences, yes, but they also have a past, together and also not, stemming from this same town.

Stiles has no right to where Scott does or does not go.

Derek, on the flip side, with his red eyes and ancestral blood running through his veins, roots sprouting from this town's soil, has no such qualms. Derek and Scott share a past, too, and it defines their present more than anything else could have.

Stiles' dad says he'll be out in just a minute, can they wait outside please, and all three of them step out. Once the door is closed, Derek turns to Scott.

"When are you leaving?"

Scott is instantly angry. He has always hated Derek, no matter the truth. Logic was always Stiles' friend first and Scott's second, and without Stiles, Scott is just a ball of emotions being hit by the bat of daddy and authoritative issues.

Derek has a right to know. It is his prerogative. This is his land, his territory, his packmate's wedding. Scott was banished — run off, really, and now he's back. Derek has a right to know when he'll leave, irrespective of Scott's hesitation to tell him.

But, the years have done Scott good. Instead of yelling, making a scene, he takes a breath in. Stiles wonders what or who his anchor is, and promptly decides it's not something he cares to know. He watches Scott get himself under control, enough that when he speaks his voice is almost emotionless.

All or nothing. That was what Scott was, and still is. He's changed, but not really.

"Mom leaves for her honeymoon tomorrow, and I need to take stuff from home."

Derek raises his right eyebrow. "That's not an answer."

Scott gives a tight smile. "It is if you just learn to stop when you should."

Before Derek can say anything, Stiles is taking the two steps to stand right beside his Alpha, disbelief coloring his face and words as he lets out, "Are you seriously threatening him?"

Scott just looks at him. The look is unreadable. It hurts, this distance between them, when Stiles remembers fantasizing about being not two feet apart on a porch in their late, late years, drinking to the years and cheers they must have had in their shared lives. Derek shakes him out of that thought with a gentle touch to his hand, their arms trapped between their bodies, and he relaxes.

Derek looks at Scott. His eyes turn red, brilliant red, and he orders, "Leave by Wednesday afternoon."

Today is Sunday.

And his dad's wedding day. His dad, who chooses this moment to come out, looking much better, and happier, and assured. He looks at the scene in front of him, the three of them, Scott on one side, alone. Him and Derek, side by side, on the opposite side of Scott.

He claps his hands.

"Who is ready to cry today?"

*

They all cry.

The ceremony is simple, but beautiful. The whole town is here, the wedding off their Sheriff, and the nurse who is so lovely, so kind. They are an inspiration, they all murmur, Derek tells him; second chances at love are rare, and this is beautiful, and who knew there exists beauty in the depths of tragedy?

His dad cries when he watches Melissa come down the aisle, Ms. Martin on one side and Scott on the other. Her best friend and her son, and for once, Stiles doesn't mind Scott's presence.

Melissa is smiling, eye to eye, her wedding gown fitting her perfectly.

She stands in front of his dad and says, "Oh, John," with such reverence, it's hard to not cry. Stiles has to put his hand in front of his mouth, but it's futile. Derek, the jerk, repeats those words, the ones he is hearing from every corner of the hall, and by the time Stiles has a dad and a stepmom officially, he's crying happy tears.

Lydia hugs him and tells him now it's his turn to find her mom somebody, too, and he agrees, only half-listening to her. He's staring at the big, gigantic grin on his dad's face, a matching one on Melissa.

Everyone congratulates him and the newlyweds, and then it's food and chatter and toasts, and everyone is surprised when Derek gives the first toast instead of Stiles, and Scott is supposedly not giving one at all.

Derek's toast is short, but no less lovely. He calls John a great man, one with utmost patience, and of course Derek would find a way to make a dig at Stiles; he says he has no clue how John and Claudia had strength enough to be patient with Stiles around, and that perhaps it is that tenacity, that will, that has brought about the proceedings of today. Of not giving up, even when the world is stacked against you. Of staying strong, in the face of everything falling apart. Of falling apart but coming back stronger, steadier. Of finding love after all of that. And coming from Derek, of all people, it means a whole lot, and Stiles' dad hugs Derek post-speech tightly.

When they pull apart, Derek says into the mic, but with eyes on Stiles' dad, "She's just as proud of you as Stiles is. As I am."

And then it's his turn to give a toast, and he's not sure how he can outdo Derek; as he stands up in front of the mic, he realizes he doesn't want to.

He gives a few funny anecdotes of his childhood, of how his dad taught him to always have hope, because good people get good things, even if it takes long. And how Melissa was always there, a second mom to him right from the start, and how much he loves her and is glad she's still in his life, despite the years, despite the circumstances. The crowd gets intrigued at that, aware of the distance between Scott and his mom, and Stiles too; all of Beacon Hills knows about the rift, but only a hand few know the cause of it as well. So, for him to mention the distance, to publicly acknowledge it, is a big thing.

He moves right the fuck on, makes jokes and smiles and cries, admits he'll always miss his mom, but that he'd always hoped, deep in his heart, that when the grief becomes tolerable he'd be the one to make the two of them marry each other.

"You got there first," he jokes, "Had the ring all picked out even before I could start trying to convince you to ask her out. Honestly, that might have been the second best decision you've ever made." None of them have to ask what the first was. It's obvious; Stiles knows his mom's wedding ring sits inside his dad's shirt, on a necklace, his own beside it.

Melissa gives a toast, too. She reminisces the first time she met Claudia, how they became friends, and how, at the time, it was impossible to imagine a life without her.

Before her little speech, to everyone this was her and John's day, but it's clear to them now that it's not just that. To the newlyweds it's a promise to Claudia; Melissa's once best friend and his dad's first love. To be happy. To live.

There's more hugs, more cheers, the champagne popping, and a quick, impromptu speech by Scott, who was fuming at being outdone like this by not just Stiles, but also Derek.

His speech is not bad, per se. Angry jerks of his chin, wild eyes and noticeable pauses. It's not bad. It just looks bad in comparison.

Stiles will definitely rot in hell for finding this funny, but at least he won't be the only one. The whole pack is trying not to laugh, and Stiles has to hide his own in the lapels of Derek's suit, who in turn hides his laughter in Stiles' hair.

Stiles feels bad, once or twice. But Scott made his bed and he's lying on it.

And then, after that, there's the first dance. There's the open dance floor and little kids asking Derek sweetly if he'll dance with them. He's their favorite, and it's adorable, and Stiles takes a thousand pictures.

Derek is in a sharp suit, and the juxtaposition of him dancing with young children, in princess dresses and printed suits — one kid had a yellow, minion-print suit, and honestly, that kid, Darren, pulled it off well — all colorful to his black shirt, black blazer, and black pants, is just so...

Good.

Derek's whole face is lit up, the golden glow of the lights all around them putting him in an ethereal spotlight, his eyes soft, mouth curved up, and nose adorably scrunched as he tries to decipher the babbling of a two-year-old.

The mom of the kid comes to get the boy, profusely apologizing, but Derek just smiles and says it's okay. It was no issue, it's okay, no need to apologize at all.

"Right," she says, eyes flicking between Derek and Stiles. "I'll let you get back to your partner then." And it's clear she means him.

Derek doesn't correct her, and neither does he. She leaves, and in this corner of the room, it's just them now. Most kids are tired, now, and most guests have left. It's mostly just the closest friends of Melissa and his dad, and the pack, of course, who are here.

Derek turns to him, his eyes still soft, which somehow get more soft when he looks at Stiles. It takes his breath away, and he lets out a squeaky, "Let's dance?" He's almost 25, the "adult" age according to the internet, and he still acts like a high school kid with a fucking crush.

Derek just makes him feel that way.

Derek, who is going to be 30 in less than a week, the big decade, the big, bad wolf. Derek, who blushes, his cheeks pinkish red behind his stubbled face, and puts out a hand.

Stiles takes the offered hand, his heart dancing inside his ribcage. And onto the stage they go, to the applause of the pack, and his dad's, "Finally!"

Stiles blushes, too. It's just their luck to get on the floor when it's a slow dance song.

Derek wastes no time, like he can't think or he'll explode, and puts his left hand on Stiles' waist, his right on Stiles' shoulder. Stiles puts both his hands around Derek's neck, and the alpha leans into the touch. This, the blatant trust, the welcomeness of it, is what bolsters Stiles.

They move to the slow beat, their eyes on each other's like white on rice, and everything else just doesn't exist. It's just them, and only them. No one else exists, not when they do, this close.

They move closer still, their hips touching, their foreheads against each other's. Noses touching close.

"Hey," he says, and grins when Derek does.

"Hey," Derek says back, so close that Stiles feels in his bones the word shape itself in Derek's mouth.

The music changes, then, and Stiles recognizes this one from the very first beat of it. Of course he does. It's Derek's favorite song ever.

"Did you bribe the DJ to play Apocalypse?"

Derek laughs, a quick, short one, and Stiles watches the movement of it, the beauty of Derek Hale laughing. "What if I did?"

Before Stiles can say anything, the line, "kisses on the forehead of lovers," comes on, and Derek takes a step back, only to kiss Stiles on the forehead.

Stiles' breath stops in his throat. Derek closes the gap between them again, and sways them to the beat. Stiles just follows his lead, his face having stuck itself on an astonished smile, and by the time the song is over he's just hugging Derek, tight, close, forever and ever and ever close.

Derek hums the song right in his ear, and it's perfect, Derek's breath on him, his grip, his eyes on him.

Stiles takes a step back and just looks into Derek's eyes.

"Hey," Derek says softly. They don't need words. Just this, a moment to themselves, where nothing but them exists.

Stiles doesn't even have a clue what song is playing. All he hears is Derek. His unspoken trust and devotion, his soul half of Stiles', Stiles' own soul half of Derek's. Their mingling breaths, because they're still close, just a hair apart from being one.

"Hey," he repeats, and they're both moving forward, Derek's hands on Stiles' waist, his own around Derek's neck, and they kiss.

It's gentle and slow, like time doesn't exist, could never take from them, this moment infinite, their love defying the laws of the universe and stopping time.

Because this is it. This is love, theirs and theirs only, part of its definition somewhere in the noises Stiles is making, part of it in the way Derek is touching him, moving his hands around Stiles' body, up and down, up and down, caressing him close and closer still.

Because isn't that what love is? Finding meaning in another?

After what feels like a lifetime, Derek pulls back. "Your lips, my lips, apocalypse," Derek hums against his lips, and they're so close, one breath two beings close, Stiles feels the movement of Derek's lips against his.

He lets out a small laugh. Derek swallows it down with another kiss, this one urgent, and time stills, again. Nothing exists, but this, and this moment only. Them. Arms around one another, devouring lips, tight grip, closed eyes, and peace.

They pull apart, foreheads resting against each other's, and Stiles opens his eyes to Derek's soft gaze. On him, through him, for him. He smiles, takes Derek's hand in his, dislodging it from its previous position on Stiles' waist, and brings it up to kiss the open palm of this man, who is radiant in this moment, glowing, almost, with happiness.

"Best day ever," Derek says, and he hums only the tune this time, and this time, Stiles sings the lyrics.

"Your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

"We did think it would take, like, a severe life or death situation for you two to get your shit together."

The sudden reality of a third person existing, and slowly, the reality of them being in the middle of a public dance floor in front of people has them flinching and moving apart.

"Kind of glad that didn't actually occur," Lydia continues, unperturbed.

"Definitely glad," his dad agrees.

"I do prefer you two getting together on my wedding day instead of my ER room, actually." Melissa adds.

Derek and Stiles both stare at their pack — Lydia, grinning eye to eye, a wine glass in her hand. John and Melissa beside her, their hands clasped, laughing at Derek and Stiles' wide-eyed gaze. Isaac clicking a hundred pictures of them, Erica with her full-red lips and a plate filled with food. Boyd beside his wife, hand on her shoulder, and Jackson leaning against Danny, smirking at the two of them. Cora is looking at them, that Hale look of absolute mischief. Kira and Malia have probably gone home — and nope, here they come, with a...

"Is that a banner?" Derek asks, aghast, and Stiles is right there with him. Because that fucking banner reads STEREK WINS.

"What the fuck?"

Peter comes out from the shadows, and Stiles tries to be happy about the fact that his appearance surprised everyone else present too, not just him and Derek.

"Thanks for making me win the bet. Really appreciate the $5."

"Bet?!"

His dad answers his unasked question. "We all figured you two would get together sometime during our wedding. Maybe during or after. It was just a matter of when." He points to where Malia and Kira are putting the banner up, right beside the one that says, JUST MARRIED!!! "Most of us figured the week following today, but Peter, Lydia, and Kira are the only ones who doubled down on the day being today itself."

"We're going to share our anniversary!" Melissa exclaims, happy.

Derek and Stiles just stare.

Derek turns towards him. He cocks an eyebrow up. Stiles nods with quick movements of his head.

"We, uh, are gonna go," Stiles says to the hall at large. "Have fun with your... bet, I guess. Dad, Melissa, love you guys, the rest of you, fuck off." Everyone laughs.

"We'll talk about anniversary plans later, Melissa," Derek says, and Stiles finger guns at her before realizing how stupid it looks.

Luckily, Derek picks him up, fireman carry style, and swoops him away.

Stiles groans against Derek's back. "Doofuses. Serious doofuses."

"Us or them?"

Stiles thinks. "All of us," he decides. "All of us, Derek. How the fuck were we so stupid to wait so long to get together?" They don't need to really discuss it — the kiss was just a precursor. "And why the fuck do they have to be so... ugh."

"They're still laughing," Derek says, as if that would help. "Doofuses," he agrees.

And then they're in the Jeep, Derek's camaro probably to be taken home by Isaac, and they're alone and when Derek drops him gently on the seat, Stiles lunges up to kiss.

"You make me fucking feral," Derek admits against his lips, and hey, Stiles loves where this is going. "I love you."

The words are nothing, really, but an arbitrary combination of English lexicon. But there is a meaning it — so many touches, so many moments shared between the two of them. Time spent in presence or in thoughts. All of it, leading up to this. These three words that make Stiles giddy.

"I love you too, and we really were doofuses."

"Wanna be doofuses on my bed?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

Stiles speeds it out of the parking lot of the event hall, and they do, in fact, act like doofuses on Derek's bed.

They make-out, they throw down their clothes, and they pour out their hearts with every touch, every caress, every moan; they kiss and laugh and confess, touch and worship and love.

They map out each other's bodies and lean in, snuggle, and sleep.

If all apocalypses could be so lovely, it would be great, really.

[boar-cry]

spending way too much time adding details that you can't even see when you zoom out lmao

[taviokapudding]

Simon's joke of "soup of theseus" is so damn good & way more layered than most people think.

Okay so first- what is the ship of Theseus?

So amongst his many misadventures and legends the ship of theseus was a ship the Athenians believed connected them to the divine living person that was Theseus. The thing is, he was maybe Poseidon's adopted kid/the King if Athen's son and probably not real (or at least if he did his misadventures were super exaggerated as royals = divity stories are) but the fate the Athenians had for him & Apollo (the 6 labors is a fun legend that explains their connection and what the original ship may have been) was so intense, they would constantly give maintence as a form of religious worship to said ship on the island of Delos (where Apollo's most sacred sancutary is) every year it would dock to pay respects.

Btw we don't need to know the specifics of Theseus but he did infamously slay a minotar and Finn did have a good exchange with the Mannish Man to get the enchiridion aka the book that sets Betty & Simon on the paths they are on now so that's neat af

So if you've ever heard about the ship of Theseus being paradox- it comes from the critique that's always existed about that ship's maintenance & religious practices tldr if you are constantly replacing each rotted and borken part of a ship, is it still the same ship?

The soup is a paradox like the ship

That paradox exists in many many scifi and adventure stories like the Nier series & Ghost in the Shell but in this instance we got to first look at the joke literally. Farm world's Finn's wife's soup is the same as the ship. The original soup farm world HW made no longer exists on a technicality, but the way Finn and his kids continue to add on and consume the soup is exactly like the Athenians. It's about the intent of carrying on the memory and keeping the soup around to honor the dead rather than the soup's original recipe {which also is incredibly sad & imples that farmworld Finn is both coping and never learned the original soup recipe}. It's a beautiful way to honor their dead mom/wife and it makes you wonder if that Finn did die if his kids will continue the practice.

But the paradox goes beyond the soup & into our reality

A lot of people have noticed that Fionna's last name is Campbell and Campbells is a real soup brand that would've been around before the great mushroom war. When Marceline gets sick as a kid, Simon goes great lenghts to get her chicken soup- that only worked out because the primordial version of the Mother Gum assisting {which is extreme Bubbeline foreshadowing}. And in that scene the can low key is a campbell design. But what if I told you there's more?

In Cheers, the tv show Simon is seen constantly watching and referencing throughout the original run of Adventure Time & in the recent Fionna and Cake had Carla Tortelli work at a Canpbell's Factory.

Neat references aside the soup ends the moment the main trio hit the remote button and I have a BA in psychology & interest in childrens media and entertainment that I want to milk for once. Metaphorical intention is beyond relevant episode specifics but actually the foundation of Fionna and Cake when it comes to the paradox.

Simon making the soup of Theseus joke is the main problem Fionna and Cake has to address

If Simon can summon his & Prismo's au from his head without proper MMS (Magic, Madness, and Sadness) where does Simon the human start and Ice King end?

As viewers who grew up alongside the series, the majority of 25+ watchers are finding Simon, older Finn, and Fionna painfully relatable because good fucking god we are all traumatized because of the ongoing pandemic.

If you want to focus on the main topic you can skip this part. But if you want to get very serious for a minute, please stay. The majority of people wont to accept what I just said about the pandemic being ongoing because global governments pretending the pandemic is over, the rise of depression and escapism in real time at a social level at a global level but especially in the US where the series is being made, and the daily interactions we have with most people refusing to mask up {with a violent reaction} when there still isn't a cure for COVID has created the perfect enviroment for most people to not accept change or crave extreme change. Fionna and Cake tackles these 2 very common forms of how depression tends to manifest when it's not fully manic to be displayed through Simon (self isolation from poor coping due to loss, detachment from society, dwelling on the past to the point it effects social interactions, extreme forms of religious practice, etc.) and Fionna/Finn (pretending everything is fine, avoidance, going through the bare minimum motions to survive, escapsim and dream of grandure, not caring about sel preservation, no/lack of self control with sweets/coffee, etc.). And I've noted there's a subset of AT viewers who don't relate or find the depections too real to the point they're upset the show's tone isn't as light hearted as AT. The thing is when a global disabling event happens, unless you were under 10 when it happened and even then it's a 50/50 because you probably did lose or know somebody who did die these last several years, you will have some kind of trauma response to it whether you like it or not. Hell, some of you unknowlingly have a gap in your memory about 2020 specifically due to inconsistent sleep schedules that have nothing to do with the shrinking of the brain mass COVID causes that we all call "brain fog" and now that I pointed it out you're probably going to go stare at a wall for 5 mins {sorry btw, doubly if you have long COVID and this is how you found out what brain fog partially is}. As someone who's been dealing with depression since I was a child, it's okay to be not okay given the last several years and doubly if you've been conscious long enough to see the US freefall into fascism too {which I hope encourages those who weren't aware that's been happening to go look into that because we can't get into it right now}. Because I unfortunately know what manic depression can look like - if you find yourself relating to Simon a little too much during ep 3, please talk to somebody who is licensed and trained to do so {not me, I haven't done suicide prevention work since 2017 and am not licensed- I genuienly won't be enough of a resource} okay? Don't throw away yourself nor change yourself for others only. You need to work to accept the past, move on to live in the present, and change yourself for yourself. It won't be easy and resources are out there to not do it alone, alright?

Becuase of how paradoxial and fluid mental health (espeically undiagnosed depression) can be and how AT has it's own version with MMS, could Simon have unconscious MMS still because of Betty's with without a battery but can't tap into it because of his mental state? And could Ice King as we once knew him even be considered a proper person Simon could return too?

The original wish of why Ice King's appearance & abilities is the way it is IS because of Evergreen's impression on Gunter {Evergreen was one of the ice elementals of the past btw- go watch the original Adventure Time for that context}. So Ice King isn't even an original character, just the crown building off the wishes and manifestations of each bearer by emulating a warped version of Evergreen. And that's the main reason why I speculate Ice Thing aka Gunter the Penguin is chill af to the point he got married and can exist with less gems. His wish didn't build off of power to protect Marceline (Simon) nor the power to copy Evergreen (Original Gunter).

As the main trio jump from connected universe to connected universe, more Simons and crowns will appear that are even more removed from our Ooo's crown and it's version of Ice King or Ice Prince or Winter King will only manifest because of the prior and current wishes made. So if Simon does get a crown that isn't the Ooo crown, will the Ice King that once existed even be THE Ice King he wants to be? And will Simon want to be Ice King or an Ice King when the trio do return to his Ooo?

The crown and it's many versions is a paradox that can only be resolved if Simon and Fionna can work together but also set aside their depression to address what they both really want and what that wish's intention will do to themselves and those around them. In short, shit's deep

I applaud the team for Fionna and Cake for tackling such a layered problem and I'm excited to see how Simon's soup of emotions, Fionna's growth, & magic crown of Theseus is addressed.