#i couldnt stay away...

[skitter-queen]

uber and leet streaming the wildly online-popular "Second-Trigger Challenge", in which parahumans attempt to recreate the conditions of their trigger event as closely as possible to see if they can get it to happen again (uber's trigger was losing 3 call of duty matches in a row and getting called a noob, leet's trigger was spilling water all over the gaming rig he had just finished after months of saving up and putting together); at first everything seems to be going swimmingly, viewership is soaring etc., but things go awry when they do, in fact, end up second-triggering together... into a "two-player" cluster.

read my new fic, Press (Kiss) to Kill, coming to theaters this october

[suntails]

new plushie just dropped

[fqntasies]

Prize - Feyd Rautha x Reader

Summary: The Na-Baron is set to fight in the arena once more; yet his opponent's reveal is a shock to you and perhaps the other Harkonnen as well. Upon his impending victory, your husband claims you as his prize, ravenous, of course.

Disclaimer: connected to my other fics of feyd. I dont write my stories as chapters, but rather time-jumps to various moments in the reader & feyd's story (considering that I write you both as connected through dreams since childhood, betrothed, etc.)

Word Count: 1,988

This was to be the second fight you would witness of the Na-Baron's, a momentous celebratory event that filled arena's and sparked a sense of frenzy among the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. The first you had witnessed took place just months before your wedding ceremony; in part a testimony of the Na-Baron's prowess and strength, a claim perhaps to your hand, if you were to view it as such. The spectacle had left you breathless then, and you were certain this time such a reaction would be warranted as well. If nothing else, the racing of your heart and the thunderous chorus of the crowds stood attest to it. They were like beasts among the stands, delirious for their prince, and loyal to their homeworld above all else, chants in the air.

This particular occasion already felt separate. Opponents were typically drugged enemy houses or military prisoners let loose in the triangular space, as was custom. But not today. You had seen odd glances among the servants, and even whispers from other members of the Harkonnen house along passing corridors. Something had been changed in the lineup. But what? Had a prisoner been injured? Escaped before the fight? When you look to your handmaidens, they give nothing away but reassuring nods, pale skulls angling towards where the battle will commence after but a moment.

You could not deduce; instead aware of the light breeze that clips at the base of your neck, and the blinding light that reigns above. It casts sharp shadows over your party, jutting from the edge of the alcove's decorative ceiling.

You stand from your seat to walk the few paces to the edge of the balcony, the dark silk of your gown sliding across your thighs like rivets of water. It is just a few paces, but you feel as though you have stepped into a new world as the sun lathes you in it's blanket of heat. You press your palms against the stone that greets you, and eyes turn down, fixed at the doors to the far north of the arena. The ring on your finger sparkles brilliantly in the day, and for a moment, the roars around you are deafening.

Then, silence... and there he is.

You see that pale visage stark against the darkness behind him, hands gripping twin blades, and you are rapt with attention. Feyd's shoulders heave with his heavy breaths, armor only enhancing his form. You knew if you were to stand up close, his eyes would be endless black pools, ravenous for the blood that was to spill before him, striking against the milky softness of his skin. He was his own animal. Foreignly alien, and yet yours all the same. Husband.

You blush as his eyes find yours abruptly, and he stalks from the entryway, steps bringing him towards you in the sand, even as he is leagues below. Your mind drifts to just hours before, where the Na-Baron had caged you among ebony blankets in your shared chambers, leaving no escape from the broadness of him in the cool of the morning. Ghosts of his tongue and mouth have you heaving a breath; licking your lips as though parched. You knew you would dream of him again tonight, even as his arms would trap you like a vice in the safety of sleep. It thrilled and frightened you alike.

Feyd lifts his blade in oath above his head, like a promise to the heavens, and you nod in reply as that sharp edge glints in the light. This blood he spills for you. Always for you. As he would for any who dared to come between.

When he turns, he rolls his shoulders languidly with a tilt of his head. Ready to strike. And you shift to look towards the very same gates he had come through moments ago. That's when you pause - a breath catching in surprise.

The harpies - you were sure of it; their angled forms were roped about each other, a strangling mess of light limbs as they were dragged by burly guards towards the center of the sands. An offering before their dark prince. Proposed like some strange kind of sacrificial lamb.

Suddenly you knew - this was what had made everyone so surprised.

Feyd has turned again, his face now determined, set. You can see it in the sharpness of his jaw, like he vibrates with a new kind of rage. It's his declaration of his love. He will destroy the things that sought to destroy them and their bond; greedy creatures who cared not for the destiny set before their master. Only seeking flesh and carnal sustenance.

At one point, members of the Harkonnen house had thought to leash the Na-Baron with the harpy creatures; perhaps thinking such temptations could control him, avenues orchestrated by the Baron himself, or Rabban, though you assumed the former. But they had failed to see the lengths to which Feyd was devoted to you, had never known the dreams you both had shared since before your very meeting.

This was what he offered to you. Power and promise. Heady in the air, and ripe with opportunity.

---

When they were lifeless upon the sands, you meet your husband's gaze again. There is red painting his body like stars in the milkyway; and a gash covers his chest where one of the harpies had caught him in her claws. He sways a bit, almost drunkenly; and a bloodied grin paints handsome features as he picks up a pace towards you, black cloak carrying behind him like a billowing shadow. You know where he is headed, as his form disappears beneath. It sets your heart to a stampede, goosebumps prickling along the flesh of your arms, and you are swift to dart from the cover of your ladies.

He hunts you, a hulking form somewhere below, closer and closer.

You envision the Na-Baron stalking through the main doors as you flit between sunlight and shadows, a rasp low in his chest as he parts his lips to taste the air, bloodlust and craving. A needy hunger. It makes your legs feel unstable as you blindly chase between archways, imagining the ghost of your prince behind you at your neck. Would he grab you, you wonder...? Would such hands that had slaughtered moments ago trap you now? The horror. The wonder. Your fingers grasp fistfuls of your gown, bare feet pressing against the cool of the marble under your padded steps.

You huddle swiftly behind a wall to catch your breath, angling your jaw to listen as you puff air in and out of your lungs.

"I know your here, princess."

You startle in silence, running cold - gosh - that voice. It was a weak point for you, Feyd had learned swiftly (as had you). A dangerous piece of knowledge, used more often than not as a way to keep you in your shared bed, wanton and delirious as he sought you out. You knew he carried a dare in his words now. Try to run, little rabbit. Try and see.

You want him to catch you, you think. Though perhaps not yet. Your mind fights for what to do - envisions him around you, and you battle the fog of your machinations in a fleeting moment - dashing towards a new hall at the opposite side of the room.

His laugh is low and drawn out as you fly from him, turning into a growl. You are nearly through a new door when he has you - twisting your fighting form and pulling you with him into the unfamiliar space, strong fingers gripping at your waist.

Then he is claiming your mouth with his, pulling you down with him and into his lap, arms trapping you like you were meant to be there - precisely so - all tongue and taste; the two of you stumbling against a wall. You moan - preen against him, fitting to his hold like a puzzle piece that was perfectly matched.

The slide of his tongue on yours is wet and heavy - and in the haze of kisses you see his eyes heavy lidded, watching, following a growl and the nip of his black teeth. It has you sighing again, mewling like some wanton thing, and the silk of your skirts are gripped in his hand at your hip, which cranes to push you against him. The other angles your neck, tipping your mouth deeper into his, and you think for a moment there is no where else you could go. No where quite like this where you belong so completely. His touch is so warm, and broad - iron too, you are aware that even if you attempted a form of escape, he would have you again in an instant.

"- My prince."

His eyes flash at your breathy words. You two had danced this game before - pretending it was your first meeting, feigning some kind of unaware strangers scenario, though you were both well aware of the visions that plagued each other's sleep for years.

He couldn't ignore the calling of your soul even if he tried.

"My lady." He sounds debauched as he cranes to attach a hot mouth to the spot below your ear, and you arch further into him, brows knitting together at the sensation; fighting for control. You make that sound again - the gentle whine that makes his eyes nearly roll back in his skull, and he chases it with another lathe of his tongue, and a warning rumble in his chest.

Don't tempt me - he taunts.

You have half a mind to mark him the same.

"You're not leaving this time, sweet one. I still haven't even gotten your name." His words proceed a suck at your bottom lip, and you angle to taste him in the fog that covers your mind. You almost don't understand the words in your haze; but the smile you taste in his kisses brings you back, and you pull away enough to face him, lips detaching from his own with a wet gleam.

"But my lord - you know I am engaged." the rumble he makes is another warning, hips against your own as his hands hold you there.

"Then I shall cut him down like all the rest." There is a pride and a jealousy that glimmers in the Na-Baron's eyes, even in this pretend world the two of you have crafted, and it takes you a moment to snap out of your heady admiration of him, chasing after his tongue with your own as you lean back in. Heads turn this way, and that, the heat of your breaths and the wetness of your kisses filling the silence of the space you've chosen.

Feyd groans - followed by a gentle tilt of your head, and his lips are by your ear, his hand in your hair, a commanding hold - though you know he'd never hurt you.

"I quite think you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you, little one?" You pant softly in response, only able to suffice a delicate nod in his embrace, overcome with your desire for him. And that's all he needs to hear, sliding his tongue against yours once more before he's hoisting you in his arms, the fabric of your dress bundling by his hold, baring the soft tenderness of your thighs. It has the muscles in his neck craning with a ragged groan, eyes trailing to meet yours with barely restrained tension. A man at his breaking point.

His swift strides have you clinging tightly to him, nose against his neck, pressed just under his ear. The wafting aroma of his cologne and the sweat and blood of the arena are filling your senses. You know he brings you to your chambers; the grip of his hands and the speed of his steps tell you as much; it makes you taste your lip between your teeth, pressing just so against him.

His prize.

[weirdenbyferret]

Day 2, Squid and Carnivorous

LOOK AT THIS PRETTY MAN HE SO PRETTY AHHH

First chapter of my mermay fanfic and some doodles. Warning, this newest chapter has blood

How flamboyant cuttlefish reader is put together and drawn is inspired by @zus-a-fungi's cuttlefish eclipse!!

[mokadevs]

day 7: come back soon

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[love-3-crimes]

VAQUERO!!! JASH

its been a year,,,crazy. wild, even.

plus some silly doodles of the cashier! who may or may not be a love interest, depending on who you ask. theyll learn to get along eventually

[xxplastic-cubexx]

dofp having both Time In A Bottle and erik telling charles he wished he hadnt spent so many years fighting him was actually evil really !!!!!

[ianthesmells]

i actually thought in s1 that the caitvi dynamic was going to be. naive sheltered cop girl technically has the upper hand but she's so clueless that vi is always ahead of her and able to overpower her. and that when caitlyn gets her out of jail, it was gullible to think that vi would actually help her, because i was expecting vi to immediately abandon caitlyn once they got to the undercity. this is vi's turf, she'd have an easy time getting away from caitlyn (could've dropped her off at the prostitute place and dipped to go look for jinx).

and then she looks for vi for a while and eventually finds her and it's like "why did u leave . u said u'd help" and vi is like "girl... u are so stupid. why would i help you ur a cop" and caitlyn doesn't understand why vi is so untrusting and so guarded towards her, because she's sheltered and never actually BEEN in the undercity before, so it'd never cross her mind that people can not trust the government and expect bad things to happen them and all that.

so their s1 arc is like. caitlyn trying to gain vi's trust or whatever for a while (because she gains it really quick in s1 which i thought was weird considering vi hates cops and was in a piltover jail for almost a decade), and then she does eventually gain caitlyn's trust. however. they then find out that jinx was behind all this, and vi and jinx are sisters and vi sides with jinx (because she's her sister and also who cares if she stole from piltover yall been stealing EVERYTHING from us) and now caitlyn doesn't trust vi and vi goes back to hating her.

so then when jinx kills her mom, caitlyn is like prone to being a hater because her only experience with undercity people (vi and jinx) have been bad and she now assumes they're all bad and combined with her grieving and rage, she easily falls into ambessa's hands and goes on her dictator arc in s2. and then we get toxic caitvi yuri instead. because caitvi is the most interesting when it's toxic so there

[pelideswhore]

Achilles: So apparently the 'bad vibes' I've been feeling are actually severe psychological distress.

[haveihitanerve]

The best friendships in marvel

Nat: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Clint: *smiles* ~ Tony: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Rhodey: *smiles* ~ Peter: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Ned: *smiles* ~ Bucky: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Sam: *smiles* ~ Loki: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Thor: *smiles* ~ Bruce: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Tony: *smiles* ~ Tony: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Steve and Thor: *smiles* ~ Wanda: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Vision: *smiles* ~ Nick: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Carol: *smiles* ~ Maria/Pepper: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Phil: *smiles* ~ Gamora: everyone can just go away. Except you. You can stay Peter: *smiles*

[thekidsarentalright]

I always feel insane when I think of pete captioning that polaroid about patrick “he’s kinda my other half”. one reason the hiatus would have never lasted is because p2 literally cannot exist apart for two long

no literally him writing that makes me so insane too and like. the fact that it’s just literally true that the catalyst for the band coming off hiatus was pete reaching out to patrick after confessions of a pariah like. they are literally a bonded pair literally each others other halfs do not seperate!!!!!!!!

[receding-tides]

Pearl and Marina: "oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

💜 hope you have a nice day!

Send me a pairing and a line of dialogue and I'll write you something

"Pearlie, is everything okay in there?"

Of course the collection of explicitives were going to draw attention from her girlfriend. Pearl, dragging the frying pan off the hob and frantically fanning the thin trail of smoke away with a paper towel, forced a grin even though Marina was on the other side of a closed door. "A'course! Everything's fiiine!" Phew. She'd managed to prevent the smoke alarm from going off. That would be a real snitch. "You know you don't have to worry about me, 'Rina!" Totally not. Pearl felt her grin turn to slightly more of a grimace as she observed the contents of the pan. "I said I'd make you a totally awesome breakfast and it's going, like, so awesomely!"

Well, she supposed somehow managing to burn specifically the middle of a pancake was awesome in its own way. At least she'd managed to prevent a fire?

"... Okay." Marina, unfortunately, sounded like she did not fully believe that everything was fine. She knew Pearl was putting a lot of herself into making this birthday breakfast for her, though, and didn't want to ruin that by interfering, unless there was an absolute emergency. Which there wasn't, because Pearl had things totally under control! "Call me if you want a hand, though."

"I got things under control! No hands necessary. I mean, other than my own." Pearl waved one of them, still unseen, and almost scalded her hair with a fresh-out-of-the-frying-pan spatula. "You are going to go back to bed and wait and feel loved and appreciated."

That did bring a very adorable laugh out of her. The best sound. The confidence booster for Pearl that she could, in fact, make an extravagant breakfast, even if she was significantly worse at multitasking than Marina was. "Okay, Pearlie," she said, affection in her voice. "I know it'll be great if you're putting so much love into it."

Of course it would! Marina had done the same thing for Pearl on her own birthday earlier in the month, and it had been the best meal the little squid had ever experienced in her life. Also one of the biggest, even if that had been a measurement-conversion mistake, and Pearl had felt too stuffed to move for half the day afterwards. Knowing Marina had put so much love into doing that for her motivated her to put in every bit as much effort now. Without giving her girlfriend mild stomach cramps in the process, hopefully.

It was... a little disheartedning that the pancakes were the first thing she was messing up, in a significant way, when that was something she was used to making, but... it was fine. There were just a lot of different things for her to keep track of, and she'd stopped paying attention for a moment.

The rest of this pancake seemed done, though, even if there was a very charred patch in the middle. She could cut that part out and style it so it had Marina's '8' logo in the centre! Pearl was a genius.

With the distraction now out of the way, she could hear a hissing sound.

"... Ah, shit, the eggs."

Maybe it seemed that she struggled a little bit, to the average, uncultured-in-Pearl person. And, well, some parts were a little cold by the time she'd finished organising the four different foods she'd been cooking at the same time.

The look on Marina's face, the sparkle in her eyes, when she took the first bite, was worth every ounce of effort.

(Plus, only about ten percent of the food was totally inedible! That was a new personal record. Pearl really did a good job today, after all!)

[consultingfujoshi]

ok yknow what else. I am so glad they're acknowledging the 180. I haven't really voiced this cuz I was otherwise so excited for this season but I really was on the verge of indignation about them just deciding to make gabriel a goofy sidekick after he was literally the biggest villain of season 1. it really felt like they weren't willing to acknowledge just how much pain he's actually caused aziraphale and crowley and, to be honest, it seemed a little out of the blue that aziraphale would try to help him. but no. they're actually talking about it. it's a central point of conflict for them that crowley rightfully wants nothing to do with this because it's GABRIEL, he tried to kill aziraphale, he's still understandably terrified that heaven will try to hurt him again, and now he wants this guy nowhere near either of them, and cannot understand why aziraphale would have him in his bookship after what he's done. and as for why aziraphale wants to help him, that seems like it's actually going to be explored rather than just accepted for the sake of the plot moving forward. not only have they not forgotten just what gabriel did or tried to do last season, they're placing that lasting fear and apprehension towards him front and centre and are going to have aziraphale and crowley conflict over whether or not he deserves their help. I'm honestly so relieved because I had always been staunchly anti-gabriel and never really enjoyed the fandom's overly jovial attitude towards him, and was genuinely really skeptical when it seemed they were going to make him a sympathetic character in the new season, especially since the trailer played the comedic angle for all it was worth. but it's not just absurdity for absurdity's sake. it's actually something for our main couple to work through. the writing knows this is a difficult shift in dynamic to contend with. and they're directly employing it as an obstacle for aziraphale and crowley. it's really good and it's put a lot of my worries about the overall tone and messaging of this season to rest

[dailyedgeworth]

today, another redraw from that old sketchbook i found, this time with klavier and polly <3

[godsfavoritescientist]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

So you sail away in a boat together.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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