#like yes my anxiety about that is gone but a different sort of anxiety is there now

[pitrsattabhaadmeinjaa]

why is ending a romantically/sexually aligned arrangement SO WEIRD. WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO NOW.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Magic Touch

Shimmer!Kane x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 12: Anonymous Sex

Summary: Kane's an interesting patient.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating. I've gone off topic really because I found it difficult and this is where the story seemed to want to go.

Warnings: hospitals, reader works in the medical profession, kissing, I'm gonna say a bit of dubious content (but everyone's into it, it's just the set up is a bit hmm), biting, touching, Kane making people come with just a touch, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2065

Kane’s reactions to you after his ‘rescue’ were… interesting. 

You were part of the medical team that had helped to keep him alive, spending your spare time while he laid comatose running blood work for the constant tests that were demanded by strict looking army officials. You never got to see the data. The whole team was just being used for the grunt work while faceless others got to assess and ponder over the results. 

You’d managed to figure out some things though, despite all the cloak and dagger. Often sharing knowing looks with your colleagues when new tests were ordered by your shadowy bosses. 

Things started to get strange, or stranger, when he woke up. 

Psychiatrist tests that you weren’t a part of. Constant interviews with high ranking members from all different government agencies. Throughout it all you were told Kane remained neutral, emotionless. Watching the people speaking to him like a spider would approach an insect. A cold glint in his eyes. 

It was obvious that he had come back different. Changed. Someone else. 

You didn’t really notice at first, the looks he gave you. Sure, you were there to do a job, but you also remembered to have some bedside manner. 

You’d chat with him a little, or more accurately, at him while you took blood and vitals. And he would watch you, listen, nod, say the occasional word here and there.

Honestly, other than his quiet disposition, you hadn’t thought anything was that strange. You’d seen weirder just working at A&E on a Saturday night. 

And there was something kind of nice about it, about how he would listen. As if every word that came out of your mouth was important. 

It wasn’t until you were called into a sudden meeting with your team’s supervisor’s supervisor’s supervisor that things were put into a bit of perspective. 

The man, ‘Karl’ he had said his name was, but you were sure that was as fake as the smile he had given you when you’d knocked and entered his office. His fingers had been cold when he shook your hand, his grip a little too hard to be friendly. 

‘Karl’ had made idle chit chat with you for a few minutes while your own anxieties grew like parasites in your stomach before he finally got to the point. 

“You tend to interact with Kane every shift, is that correct?” 

You’d nodded. “Yes, pretty much. I’d have to check the logs to be sure though.”

He’d hardly let you finish before he was speaking again, obviously already knowing your answer before you had even spoken. “Yes, we’ve noticed some… abnormalities from the recordings.”

“Wait,” you’d cut in. You knew about the constant surveillance, that wasn’t so much of an issue, but you assumed there was some kind of accusation of malpractice. “Everything I’ve done has been following guidelines to the letter, the wellbeing of the patient is my top priority, if you’re implying that-”

“No, no, no,” ‘Karl’ had held up his hands, another fake smile on his face. “Not those kind of abnormalities, nothing like that at all. I do apologise, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything of the sort.” He’d paused, breathing in and seemingly revelling in the moment of anticipation as you waited for his next words. 

“The abnormality is Kane’s reaction and interactions with you.” 

“What?” 

“He seems to… converse with you. Talk.”

You’d frowned. “A little.”

“A lot.” He’d put his hands together on the desk. “A lot more than he talks with anyone else. We have a proposition for you.”

You said nothing. 

“Have a conversation with him, 45 minutes, it’ll be monitored obviously. Whatever happens… happens. If he doesn’t talk to you, that’s fine.” 

“What do you want me to talk to him about?” 

“Doesn’t matter, anything you want.” He’d smiled. “You’ll be well compensated financially, of course.” 

You’d said yes when you’d seen the actual figure, you would be a fool not to. Though, there just had to be a catch, didn’t there? That kind of money to just talk for 45 minutes? Not even to ask any questions? 

. 

The room several guards led you to the following day was surprisingly nice. Carpeted, painted in a soft grey with plush sofas. 

Kane was already in there when they’d let you in, locking the room behind you and not even setting foot inside. Like they were pushing you into the lion’s den. 

He was sitting on one of the sofas, facing away from the door. He looked around straight away when you entered and gave you a small upwards twitch of his lips when he saw it was you. An expression that would have been cold and detached on anyone else, but you had become used to Kane over the past weeks. That small movement was a warm greeting.

“Hello Kane.” You say as you sit opposite him. 

“Good morning.” 

You shift a little to get comfortable. “You okay?” 

He nods once, “very well.” This was the same reply he would give you anytime you asked. 

For a moment you look around the room, trying to see if you could spot where the cameras were. You couldn’t. 

“It’s nice to see you.” He says flatly, but you smile.

“It’s nice to see you too.”

“I usually spend my time in here with other individuals.” 

You pause, trying to read anything on his stoic face. “Others?” 

“I often have meetings in here.” 

You nod, waiting to see if he’ll continue. He doesn’t. “You… like the meetings?” 

He takes a moment to answer, seemingly staring straight into your soul. “I feel indifferent towards them.” 

You smile. “That boring?” 

Kane cocks his head to the side, but says nothing. 

“Do they give you anything to do, anything fun to amuse yourself I mean?”

He continues to look at you for a moment. 

“Books, tv, games?” You shrug a little as you speak, “art supplies?” Surely the higher ups didn’t just leave him with no mental stimulation. 

“Something ‘fun’?” He repeats in the same tone and you nod.

“Yeah, like a hobby?” 

“Talking to you is ‘fun’.” He says plainly.

You can’t help the little smile that pulls at your lips. “Yeah?” 

He nods, and shifts a little in his seat. His hands pressed neatly together on his lap. “Being around you is ‘fun’ also.” You’re so used to his calm, even voice but you don’t pick up on the slight change in cadence to his tone.

Your smile widens a little, “that’s nice to hear.” 

He watches you, fixated, his line of sight seemingly glued in place as you glance around again. Once more trying to pinpoint the cameras. It made no sense for them to be concealed surely?

“They removed them.” He says plainly. 

You frown, quickly turning back to him. “I’m sorry?” 

“The cameras. That’s what you’re looking for, right?” It was a statement, not a question. “They’ve been removed.” 

“What?” Your frown deepens. You’re sure Kane’s not lying to you, part of you isn’t sure if he actually could. “Why? Karl said that-”

“He told you this would be monitored.” Kane nods simply. “I asked for them to be removed.”

“Why?” 

“I assumed it would be… uncomfortable for you.” 

There’s an icy touch on the back of your neck, a shiver at his words. Some deep down basic sense of self preservation being activated. “What?” 

“People grow uncomfortable under surveillance, they react differently.” 

“Well… sure. I mean, you’re not wrong, it’s just…”

He cocks his head to the side ever so slightly. “It’s just?” 

“I thought the whole point of us talking was for them to, you know, monitor.” You shrug, not sure how else to phrase it. 

Kane nods, not in agreement, but simply to show that he heard you.

There’s a pause as he seems to be thinking over your words carefully, choosing the right response with a level of precision. 

Instead he stands and sits down next to you, his leg resting against yours. You frown a little, swallowing and taking a breath to question him as you shift to the side to put a sliver of space between you. 

His hand on your cheek makes you pause, freeze as your words catch in your throat. His fingers are warm and gentle as he tilts your head up and towards him, his pressure light as if he was worried he could tear through you like spider silk. 

For a moment he just looks at you, observing your features as if he could decipher some lost hidden knowledge. 

He leans closer and you know what he’s going to do before he does it. You’re not stupid. But for some reason you can’t get your body to move, to raise a hand, to shift backwards. He presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s sweet, gentle. The kind of soft first kisses that only exist in teenage romcoms. 

Your senses finally snap back into your mind and you pull back, breaking the kiss. “Kane, wha-”

He moves forward, his eyes seemingly expressionless as he kisses you again. His grip on your cheek tightens, halting your effort to pull away for a second time. 

The strength of his grip surprises you, the way his fingers slide around to squeeze at the back of your neck. You can’t do this, can’t let him do this. This is breaking every patient doctor code in the book. Not to mention that the room still could be monitored, you’d lose your job. And probably worse. 

You try again to move away, to break the kiss, but his hand tightens. The strong muscles of his arms contracting as he keeps you in place. 

Frustration bubbles under your skin, covering the deep down urge to just relax into the embrace, and you do the first thing that pops into your head. You bite his lip. Hard. 

He groans. 

“Again.” He mutters, his voice thick. He rubs the bridge of his nose against yours, practically vibrating as he leans close for another kiss. He moves closer, pressing his chest to yours and lightly pushing you back against the sofa.

“Kane, I…” You swallow, trying so hard not to get caught up in the feel of him, the intoxicating lidded look to his eyes, how his body feels against yours. “I hardly know you, I don’t know you.

“You do. You did.” He says simply.

You practically do a double take. “What?” 

Kane doesn’t answer, leaning down and mouthing at your neck, licking and sucking until you shiver and a small pant escapes your lips. 

He slips his hand under your clothes, ghosting his fingers along your skin. 

You jump, “Kane…” You wish you didn’t sound so needy, so breathless. 

“Hmm?” He hums against your neck and drags his hand down, sinking under your waistband. 

You pull lightly on his hair, getting enough space between you and him so that you can press your lips to his. 

He groans, kisses you back with a deep hunger that leaves you breathless. He licks into your mouth, rolling and teasing your tongue with his own until you're whining and bucking up against him. 

A damp patch is starting to form in your underwear, and when he lightly touches your clit over your panties you gasp, your back arching. 

You expect him to stroke, to move his fingers. But instead, he presses the very tip of his forefinger flat against your bundle of nerves, firm but gentle. 

And suddenly your world falls apart. 

You tense, moaning and panting as you come suddenly, pleasure exploding behind your eyes and robbing you of thought as you convulse in his arms. Your body pulses, sings and you can’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life. 

He moves his hand a fraction as you come down, taking his lips from yours and smiling ever so slightly as you breathe hard. Sweat beading on your forehead as aftershocks run through your nerves.

“What was that?” You pant. 

“An orgasm.” He smiles a little bashfully.

For a second you think he’s being serious, but you tut and giggle when you see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Let me show you again.” He mutters, leaning closer once more and pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his fingers under your underwear this time.

Thank you for reading!

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[starryevermore]

head full of petals: autumnal arrival interlude ✧ eris vanserra

head full of petals ✧ an eris vanserra anthology | ao3

pairing: eris vanserra x tamlin’s sister!fem!reader

series summary: it is not easy to be a female in prythian. it is even more difficult when you’re the daughter of a high lord. the expectations are great, and the punishments for failure are even greater. all you have known for your entire life is falling in line. yet, when you are expected to marry another, you choose to do something for yourself: run into the arms of your mate. or, a series of interconnected oneshots surrounding the life and times of eris vanserra and his blossom. 

chapter summary: in which you learn that autumn is not so different from spring.

word count: 1,378

chapter warnings?: a little fluff, references to beron’s cruelty, pet name (blossom), not proofread

You held on tightly to Eris as he readied to winnow you away from your childhood home. When Beron wasn’t looking, he sent you a reassuring smile. You steadied your breathing and leaned into your mate. Tamlin was making you promise to write—he was your only brother to see you off. Just him and your mother, Merry. You tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. But even if your face did not show it, the mating bond betrayed you. Eris sent reassurance down the bond, and something that might have felt like the beginnings of love. 

And then, just like that, you were gone. 

The Forest House was suffocatingly warm when you arrived. You felt faint and leaned more into Eris’s side. His brothers that had joined on this trip to Spring, Graham and Heath, slipped away as Beron turned to focus on you. Your chin lifted, trying not to shy away under his scrutinizing gaze.

“You may have the evening and tomorrow to adjust,” he said. Beron turned to Eris. “After that, you are responsible for ensuring she acclimates.”

“Yes, Father,” Eris said, voice tight. 

It felt odd to not say anything. Though you were certain Beron was the sort of male to think females should be rarely seen and never heard—after all, he was friends with Hamish—you couldn’t help but think that remaining silent would only make things worse. You offered a small smile, and said, “Thank you, High Lord, for the great kindness of allowing me to join my mate in this great Court. I look forward to being a member of such a distinguished family.”

That seemed to satisfy the High Lord. All you had to do was stroke an ego a little bit, and males like Beron were easily pleased. He said to Eris, “Keep her like that and we will have no issues with your mating bond.”

Eris gave a curt nod. It was not until Beron left the room that he finally relaxed. “I am sorry,” he said. 

“I am used to males like him.”

He looked pained as he said, “I hope that is not true.” He loosed a sigh, then continued, “We may go to my chambers for some respite, but we should attend dinner tonight. Beron may have seemed so gracious to give you time to adjust, yet he will expect us there.”

“Of course. Will we…be sharing your chambers?” you asked.

It would not be a surprise if he said yes. But you had never shared a room with anyone before, much less a male. Much less a mate. From your limited conversations with Eris, he did not seem the sort to force you into anything you were not willing to do. That did not make it any less strange. Eris felt your anxiety and squeezed your hand. 

“I do not trust you to be safe anywhere else. Beron and my brothers will not bother you there. Well, I suppose Lucien might turn up every now and again. If you indulge in his whimsy, he will leave eventually. He is not the sort of male to harm a female.”

The underlying message was clear. Lucien would not, but Eris could not make any promises about the other males in his family. “I understand.”

“Then let us go there now. There is more still I would like to tell you, blossom.”

Instead of walking, Eris winnowed you to his chambers. You wondered if it was for the ease, or if it was because Eris worried about you running into someone he’d rather you avoid. Was everything in Forest House a walking danger, or was he paranoid? Was it his mate instincts, or did he care for you more than the flirting earlier that day? 

Eris’s chambers were rather simple. Quaint, perhaps. He didn’t have many decorations, save for some little acorns and leaves and a stack of papers that almost looked like they were covered in children’s scribbles. You wondered how he would feel when your little knick knacks covered every knock and cranny. 

“This is the safest place for you to be in this house. The drawing room is alright, too, but I would prefer if you refrained from being there unless myself, my mother, or Lucien are present. Should you decide to be there alone and anyone comes in, please excuse yourself as quickly as you can.”

You raised a brow. “Is it truly so dangerous here?”

Eris’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “The males in my family like to break pretty things. Lucien, of course, is harmless, save for his relentless teasing. I don’t trust any of my other brothers.” Or Beron. Especially Beron. 

The air was becoming too tense, too serious. So you smiled and batted your eyelashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up before turning serious once more. At least you got Eris to smile for moment, though. “These are our chambers. You can do as you please here. Decorate it however you like. Paint the walls pink if it pleases you. I understand how…limiting your life will be here, but I would like for you to find a safe space within these four walls.” Eris nodded at the bed. “For your comfort, I will take the settee while you take the bed. At least until you are comfortable. While I am your mate, I don’t want you to think of me as the sort of male who will force you.”

You eyed the bed. It was bigger than your one in Spring. Perhaps the benefit of being an heir as opposed to the lowly daughter of a High Lord. “Your bed is large enough that we could lay on either side and never bother the other unless we so chose,” you said. “And I would hate for you to be uncomfortable in your own room. And…I might like to be held.”

Eris smiled appreciatively. “I will not do anything you do not wish me to do,” he said. He paused, searching your face. “But, if we ever do, I will begin taking a tonic. I will do everything I can to keep you safe here, but it is harder to make such guarantees if there are little ones around.”

Was there no end to Beron’s cruelty? You nodded. “Should I not be the one to take the tonic?”

“No.” Eris looked more serious than he ever had before. “If Beron found out, and I pray to the Mother that he never would, I would rather I take the punishment than you.”

He spat punishment like it was poison in his mouth. Mother above, there were a million things you wanted to ask. So many things about the Forest House, about his family, about what he had to endure. But you weren’t sure if you should, or if he could even answer. So, you closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his middle. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the dull thump. thump. thump.

The door opened, and Eris was quick to wrap his arms around you, hold you closer. Tighter. You swiveled your head as best you could. A woman with long auburn hair and kind eyes stepped inside. Eris relaxed.

“I heard you found your mate,” Saffron said. Her eyes landed on you, and she smiled. As you pulled out of Eris’s arms, she said, “Oh, you’ve grown so much since I saw you last!”

When you were younger, Saffron would often come with Beron when he’d meet with your father. In recent decades, however, her presence was less frequent. She had changed, too, since you last saw her. While still kind, her eyes held a sort of pain, and the way she held her hands close to her chest made you wonder if she endured her own brand of Beron’s punishments. 

You smiled at her. “It’s nice to have another friendly face here.”

“You’ll soon be sick of my face. My son will be furious of how much time I spend with you,” Saffron said. “I always hoped one of my sons would be your mate. I’m glad it was Eris.”

You looked up at him, your soft smile becoming a grin. “So am I.”

[narrators-journal]

For the Lovecraft ask can we add breeding kink and squirting and maybe size kink and belly bulge

Also maybe reader is his wife and she’s turned on by him

I just kinda went wild with your prompt ngl. Lovecraft is still reader’s husband, and she’s still turned on by him! But I wrote this less as a bsd-exclusive kinktober-style fic, and leaned into the monsterfucking aspect to just GO HAM on the tentacles and monster angle. So yes, this is Lovecraft x reader, but it’s also kinda able to be read as a general monster smut. Which, was fun to write! Sorry if I went a bit light on some things, or it’s not quite to your liking on the details, this is sort of my toe back in the water after kinktober.

Thankfully it’s not as bad as last year, but ya still gotta give yourself some leniency after a challenge, y’know?

CW: teratophilia, sacrificing, tentacles, possible oviposition? U can kinda ignore that tbh, but it’s there. Breeding kink is lightly impied, size difference is also implied, squirting

It was an ancient, possibly outdated tradition, to sacrifice women to a god in exchange for a good harvest. Yet, ever since you could remember, each spring had been marked by the offering of a fertile woman to the god of the sea your town relied on. Normally, said woman was on the younger side, around eighteen to twenty for the best fertility chances, but your grandmother had always warned you that standards were likely to change. So, as you bathed and mentally prepared for whatever happened to the sacrificial brides of your god, you weren’t surprised at your position.

You weren’t a virgin, nor were you eighteen, or even twenty, in fact, you’d gotten married before you had been chosen to be this year’s sacrifice. Yet, there you were. Your hands being tied behind your back by your husband before you were walked down to the beach, nude, to await your new ‘husband’.

Like any other sacrifice to your town’s god, you had been tied to the edge of the dock. Your hands bound behind you, your foot tied firmly to one of the sturdy supports. So, all you could really do was sit on the rough wood of the water-warped platform and listen to the waves lazily lapping at the sand beneath the dark, star-speckled night sky.

However, it wasn’t more than two hours max before you first spotted an odd, slow movement in the water. Too slow for it to be some sort of person, but too big to be a fish. It’s okay, You told yourself as you watched the form approach and sink into the glittering soup before you, Brides don’t always turn up dead. It’ll probably be okay, no matter what happens.

With that, you took a deep breath to calm the knot of anxiety that formed in your chest. Yet,when you felt the cold, watery slime of a tentacle’s smooth skin against your own, you still jumped and attempted to scramble away. Yet, there was little you could do beyond scoot as far from the edge of the dock as your tether allowed. Not that your nerves did much to dissuade more green tentacles from rising out of the water to snake around your ankles and wrists, or around your waist to trap you in place. To hold you hostage while more tentacles emerged from the cool sea water to explore your nude body. It was disgusting.

Yet, at the same time, it was thrilling.

Ever since you were little, you had heard tales and rumors about all of the many things that might happen to the ‘brides’ your town offered to the sea god in exchange for the plentiful fish, including the exact situation you now sat in. But, in those past years until your own eighteenth birthday had passed, some part of you had always feared the possibility of becoming the sea god’s bride.

However, when you’d passed eighteen and gotten married, that fear had gone dormant. But, it hadn’t left completely. After all, how could a woman ever put to rest the anxiety of being one bad flu season away from being chosen to risk being torn to shreds or split in half?

Only to find, that the slow slide of tentacles, and the gentle kisses of their suction cups against your nipples or the tender skin of your inner thigh didn’t disgust or scare you as much as you had expected. Instead, they excited you.

Even when a rather meaty tentacle slipped between your legs to prod at your dampening cunt, the pressure of it against your folds sent lightning through your blood, and the stretch of it pushing into you was enough to wipe away the fears and earn a lewd noise. And while yes, you weren’t a virgin, as hardships had left sacrificial options too slim to offer an eighteen-year-old woman and ensure something like that, there was simply something far more exciting than your human husband could achieve.

Yet, that didn’t keep the tentacle from settling deep within you, creating a bit of a bulge in your belly while your muscles twitched and stretched to accommodate the growing girth of the appendage within you. Nor, did it stop the tentacle when it began to move.

In. Out. In. Out. The tentacle’s movements within you were slow. Curious, almost. The odd, slick appendage somehow able to brush against and find each of your sweet spots as it pushed deeper into you to explore every inch of your gummy walls. And, while the monster you had been sacrificed to didn’t seem interested in your pleasure, the tentacle’s slow, thorough thrusts and flexes still managed to draw lewd moans out into the warm night’s air. Oh god, why does this feel so good? You managed to think while your back arched off of the rough wood of the dock you laid on into the inquisitive caress and attention of the tentacles that still squeezed and toyed with your breasts. Feeding the fire in your veins that you tried to ignore, even as the more primal, needy part of you begged, More. More! I feel too good. I need more! In a shameful plea for that pleasure to continue to be indulged.

And, as if the god had read those deep, lust-addled thoughts, the tentacles that snaked around your breasts and toyed with your nipples squeezed your mounds and the thicker tendril that stretched your cunt so deliciously flexed against that special spot within you. Pulling another, louder cry of desire from your throat with the force of the lightning it sent hurdling through you. Yet, even as your blood screamed with need, and the chill of the water-cooled tentacles that held your wrists and legs down were the only things keeping your small body from combusting, your new husband kept going. “Hah! W-wait! Hold on!”You begged into the spring night’s air, able to feel the tell-tale tightening of your muscles with each brush of that thick tendril against your g-spot. “I-I’m gonna- ngh!- going to c-cum! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed, no longer scared of your fellow townsfolk hearing your blissful calls over the waves when your euphoria crashed down upon you with such force that your juices squirted out slightly.

Though, your pleasure didn’t end with the deviant pleasure. You merely got a brief break from the friction, as the tentacle that sat buried in you stilled to let you stare up into the colorful night sky and catch your breath. And, for a second, you thought your monster husband had somehow sensed that you had orgasmed and was going to stop or at least pause their movements. However, the tentacle only paused for a moment, before you felt the already thick girth of the tendril move more within you.

Not to continue fucking into your twitching entrance, though, but to push something into you. The...egg? Capable of being felt as it slid down the length of the tentacle to settle into your womb. Followed quickly by more and more masses being pumped into your belly to the point that your belly began to look bloated. Not that you minded, though. You simply laid on the dock, listening to the waves lap against the supports beneath you while the tentacles kept hold of your limbs until your monstrous husband was satisfied with how plump your belly had gotten. Only then, did those strong tendrils finally release you to lay on the dock beneath the stars. Exhausted, slimy, and bred.

[yesornopolls]

Kind of a long one, sorry

A bit of backstory/explanation: My father has anger issues and is known to lash out, yell, throw things, etc. My brother (I think he's 12-13 or somewhere around that age range) is, frankly, a bit of a pest, mainly due to his ADHD.

One day, my brother is being a brat again (nothing too terrible, I think he was being pestering his siblings or something along those lines), so my father gets angry and decides to pin him against the wall with a firm hand on the boy's neck, yelling at him until he finally decides to let go. Father then lifts him so he's kind of hanging (???) off the back of the couch, spanks him hard a few times, then forces him to sit on a chair next to him, but my brother doesn't stop crying. After about 5 ish minutes of sobbing and father telling him to shut up, father shouts at him again and slaps him three times on the cheek, then yells at him again. These weren't light slaps, either.

These sorts of things are not very uncommon in our household, espacially towards the brother mentioned above specifically, but usually it doesn't escalate that far. Mother is (although she likely wouldn't admit it) scared of father and doesn't do anything about his hissy fits. She just let's them happen, then either utters a soft "Dear" to him, or apologizes for him afterwards. And I'll admit, it's quite scary knowing that if I say something to upset him, he could likely hurt me badly, and there would be nothing anyone could/would do about it. No one in the house is really big enough/strong enough to do anything if he ever took things too far.

He's never really hurt me wothout reason, nor has he really gone "Out of control", but his past outbursts cause my anxiety to spike whenever I hear him yell, even if I'm in a different room.

So, the question is: Is this something I should be concerned about, and/or should I call anyone of authority if his behaviour continues?

(Also, sorry this turned out to be a half question, half rant lol)

[lemon-russ]

okay well now i need to either make or request a sang almost killing his wife in blind thirst fic.

his guilt would be absolutely devastating, and i don’t think you’d be allowed to leave the bed or go unpampered for days. he’s sitting with you wrapped up in a cocoon of wings and arms, but he can’t stop thinking about it, he received a premonition that he killed you that day, he saw a future in which he was unable to stop himself and he almost lost you.

yes, he saw a future in which he killed you. he gave too far into his urges and was too far gone to take it back, and he saw a future in which you were gone (he stopped before it happened, of course. you’re alive and well)

you’ve gotta pull the poor thing out of his own thoughts somehow, because now he’s whispering your name and sobbing into your hair as if you’re gone. his muscles are far too tense for his own good, and his irises are trembling.

he just… loves his wife, and he can’t fathom the thought of losing her, let alone to himself

My requests are unfortunately closed bc I got a good list to write but I love this idea, I'm such a sucker for sad angsty sangy ✨️

Ouhf poor baby, sometimes I wonder, like ik his premonitions are dreams and he usually knows they are some sort of omen, but like, could he tell the difference between those and a bad nightmare? Like how could he know if he just had anxiety night terrors or a premonition?

Honestly I wonder if at some point "don't worry, it won't happen, it's ok" can't really help, because you can't know what he sees.

It might end up being "that's ok. I forgive you. I'd be happy if it's you I see last. I love you enough to take that risk. I'd forgive you if it happened and I still love you. It's ok if it's you."

Healthy? No. Romantic to love someone so much you'd let them devour you and only hope it doesn't break them? 👀 Some of my fav lyrics are from Alt-J's breezeblocks (in turn taken from Where the Wild Things Are) - "Please don't go, I love you so, I'll eat you whole, I love you so I love you so"

There's a reason vampires are so popular okay im not weird---

[iepurasdepraf]

Lights Out Pt. 2 - Enjoy

"The elaborate branching structure of the dendritic tree allows a neuron to receive inputs from the other neurons through synaptic connections. The cortical pyramidal neuron of figure one point one A and the cortical interneuron of figure one point one C each receive thousands of synaptic inputs, and for the cerebellar Purkinje cell of figure one point one B the number is over one hundred thousand. Figure one point one does not show the full extent of the axons of these neurons-" 

You had to blink. Hard. Had he breathed in the last thirty minutes? You weren't sure. You weren't sure if you had either. 

Initially, you'd managed to understand what he was talking about, but over time that had slowly waned and been overtaken by a sea of information that just kept rising. It started bleeding together in your head and your eyes were burning from squinting at his cracked phone screen where he was showing the arithmetic and diagrams. You’d gotten at best a D or C in math. You couldn’t remember anymore, but you’d passed. That said, you certainly weren’t built for this. 

“The electrical signal of relevance to the nervous system is the difference in electrical potential between the interior of a neuron and the surrounding extracellular medium-”

Not wanting to be rude since he was paying for your time, you raised your hand and were quickly called upon by your impromptu professor with nothing, but delighted glee on his face that you were even listening “Yes!?” "Whereabouts in this presentation are we?" "We're just about through the first half." "The first half?" Dear God in Heaven. 

His nose scrunched up a little exposing his buckteeth even more, he must have caught on that he was frying your brain in its pan. Maybe he found it funny. "How many parts are there?" You asked, trying your hardest to sound amused and not tired. "Five! Well, five and a, ah... sort of post note." You laughed a little restlessly and sat up on the sofa. Legs long having gone numb from being in one position for so long. 

He held up his flashcards, smudged as they were from his sweaty hands. "I felt like I needed at least eight parts to fully explain, but I ran out of cards." "Why not buy more cards?" His hand lowered as he thought about it "I- Well, I suppose I... didn't want to admit my poor foreplanning?" You press your fingers to your eyes for some relief. It didn’t help and that didn't make sense, but nothing had since he stopped stuttering. Sure, the words were coming out now, but that didn’t mean they made sense even with his extensive explanation. If anything it was making it worse.

Your hands fell to your lap as you asked “Who are you giving this presentation to, Jervis?” He turned red when you said his first name. You could tell it was that by the way his eyes fluttered. It was like every now and then he remembered you were a pretty lady giving him the time of day and it staggered him a little. “The-The board. Well, I- let me explain.” He sat on the edge of the small stage you’d made him stand on when he started this whole thing. “I don’t do things like this, you see. I’m a lab rat through and through. I haven’t given a-any kind of presentation since I defended my thesis for my doctorate.” 

There was something wrong with you. That was actually impressive and you nearly asked what his thesis was about, but you also wanted to go home before five. “I work for Wayne Enterprises and normally I’m kept down in the basements- they keep all the non-theoretical work in the basements for security reasons... I shouldn’t have told you that.” He laughed his anxiety spike off in a concerningly manic way again and all you could think to do was nod in response, nearly used to it at this point. That or you were so tired you were just accepting it for the sake of what was left of your mental bandwidth. “Recently, I don’t know why for certain, but they’re- Oh, how did Dr. Kates put it? Doing an internal audit of ongoing research to access security, costs, and productivity. I suspect someone was caught misusing grant money or they suspect someone is.”

“Is someone?” “Heavens no!” He dismisses the very idea with a flick of his wrist. An oddly elegant gesture for someone so tense, but that was likely the liquor in him. “They barely give us enough to keep the power on in the labs. If someone was doing that the flickering lights would have surely let us know long before accounting noticed.” Jervis rolls his eyes grumbling, “Useless things they are. Still haven’t approved of my new slides.” He was getting distracted so you lean forward to get his attention. “Why would them thinking someone’s stealing money have you doing a presentation?” 

He blinks like a toad, eyes unable to settle on just one part of you until he registers you are looking at him and you know that so he looks away instead, fumbling with his cards to try to get his train of thoughts back on the rails. He didn’t succeed right away. “I…They-well, they- um…Hm.” Jervis clears his throat “T-t-to prove I am making progress.” Your head tilts slightly to the side “Would they be able to tell?” “What?” Your simple question seems to knock him out of his self conscious stupor. “Well, you’ve written a really detailed presentation, but are the people you’re going to be presenting it to, will they understand what you’re saying and showing them? Are they scientists too? It sounds more like it’s going to be to a committee.” 

“They… are not scientists.” You saw the cold realization washed over him. They’d have no idea what he was talking about and the way he looked at you nearly made you feel guilty. All that work and they’d never understand it. Christ, that was brutal. It nearly made you feel bad for not getting it either. He was clearly onto something he desperately wanted to share, but it was like he couldn't simplify his ideas enough to explain what they were to anyone with a room temperature IQ.

You bounced your leg trying to think up a solution even though you still weren’t entirely sure why you gave a shit. You should just get up and go home. Tell him it’s late and you have to get some sleep. But no, you sat there puzzling trying to help this total stranger. You stood up, unable to sit anymore. The digging drive to pace while you thought winning out as it usually did so back and forth in front of the despondent scientist you went. “Ok, we can figure this out.” You assured, sounding more confident then you actually were. “You’re smart. I’m…well, I’m smart too. Just… not as smart.” You laughed, but he looked like a kicked puppy. Maybe you were the only smart one right now. 

You told yourself that was fine while you gnawed on your thumb nail. Chipping the black fingernail polish off with your front teeth. You were so tired. Your eyes hurt, your back hurt, your legs hurt, and you smelled like a sweaty ashtray full of cheap beer. You weren’t getting anywhere with this tonight. “When are you giving your presentation?” “Next week. Tuesday of next week.” It was only Monday, well, Tuesday now. You had time. 

“I’ll tell you what,” You turned to him with a clap of your hands that made him jolt to attention. “We’ll keep working on this. We’ll figure this out, but not tonight. I have to work today, but after that I’m free until Friday. Meet me here after work and I'll give you your money’s worth.” You winked at him “I owe you for what you paid me for, don’t worry. You still have,” after checking your watch you confirmed “Two hours and forty five minutes.” 

Jervis stood up, only coming up to the very bottom of your ribs “You promise?!” What a pathetically endearing man. “Promise.” You presented your pinky finger and he gasped like you’d presented you with a diamond ring, but he puffed himself up and raised his own pinky to interlock with yours. “Pinky promise, Dr. Tetch.” “I-I- Hehehe-” He wriggled like a worm on a hook. Turning red as the perfect shade of lipstick making the pale dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks stand out. “I’ve never- ah… No one’s ever pinky promised me anything. Jolly good.” 

You couldn’t help, but snort. With a shake of your hands the pact was made.

[variousxreader]

I DUNNO IF THIS WAS THE RIGHT INBOX OR NOT AAAAA

CAPTAIN KOBY HEADCANONS MY BELOVED

(Haven’t watched that far into One Piece, I’m at like episode 500 so sorry if these are ooc at all)

General

- Doesn’t like coffee, no matter how much sugar or creamer he puts in it’s always not quite right or to his liking, he’s the same way with some teas.

- Keeps a pocket sketchbook or some sort of small notebook hand, sketches or writes about things he sees or thinks about.

- Favorite animal would be otters, I feel like he would see them frequently while sailing and overall likes them for their smarts, such as using rocks to open shells. Though, he absolutely adores how they hold hands or hold their kin while they sleep or float to not get lost.

- Morning person, definitely. Almost always the first one up and awake, walking around and already doing things while everyone else is still in bed.

- While he has grown up and became stronger, he’s still an easy crier. He gets emotional over things and while he can shove down the need to cry, he finds some place private to let his emotions go. He doesn’t like it when people see him cry publically, he feels like that wouldn’t make him “strong” to anyone anymore, especially with everything he has to go through.

- Struggles with anxiety, and I mean this man is brimming with it. His habit of overthinking can lead him to peril, while he has been scolded for “not doing anything and risking lives” due to it, some of his decisions after that could seem reckless, as he wouldn’t even give a second thought to the first thing that comes to mind.

- Definitely sleeps hugging a pillow, cannot sleep without hugging or holding something.

- Personal headcanon (I don’t know if we ever learn about his family or not) I think that while yes he truly did mistake the Alvida pirate’s boat for a fishing boat, he really was trying to sail away for good that day. People in his life would always tell him that he cries too easily or was too skittish about literally everything, overall bringing him down for years of his life. Yes, it was ok when he was younger, but while this behavior continued, people yelled at him more about how he needed to “not be such a crybaby” and not be so afraid of everything. Even now, he has issues dealing with people yelling or raising their voice at him.

- Another personal headcanon, this fella is so trans masc coded to me. When he found Luffy he was scared at first of course, some random ass stranger popped out of a barrel. But what really sold him is that Luffy didn’t question him at all about how he sounded or looked different, but to be quite frank, Luffy doesn’t seem like the type of person to bring that up anyway. Yes, Luffy saved him and he’s happy about that, but he also saw how he was? How he actually wanted to be? AND inspired his dreams?? The boost of confidence he got from that still fuels him to this day as a captain, that’s why he still looks back to that day, the first day someone saw him for who he actually was and didn’t question him. Still questions to this day if he’s valid or even passing for that matter, but that memory always helps him with dysphoria.

S/O

- Loves spooning, he doesn’t care if he's big or little spoon, he’s perfectly content either being held or him holding you. Though, he does have the habit of being mostly big spoon since he wants to protect you and keep you safe.

- His love language would definitely be quality time, especially with how long he has to be gone for sometimes. When he comes back after whatever duties he had, all he wants to do is spend some time with you doing whatever. Could be something as little as just sitting and holding each other in silence, or something more like going shopping or on a date. Though, his favorite thing to do would probably be being able to snuggle up with the person he cares the most about and rest without having to worry.

- Love hugging his s/o from behind and resting his head on their back or shoulder, depending on his height.

- This man is all green flags, will absolutely pamper his s/o if they’re feeling under the weather and sooth them if they’re not feeling 100%.

Sorry for any spelling mistakes btw :3€

AAAAA GOD TIER HEADCANONS!!!! I love them all!!!!!!

Don't you worry, im crawling through Impel Down, dreading 482 and what comes after 🙃 Ace girl things™️

But AAAAA no SADS JUST KOBY

This man has abused golden retriever energy, like rescued and bounced back and is the healthiest boy now.

He is a literal cinnamon roll!!!!!

God he'd cry over every animal he sees because its so cute. Like "S/O! Look!!!!! At them!!! Can we adopt them?!" Its so hard to say no

I loveeeeeeee the idea of him falling for a Pirate. Man is so upset about it too at first, like he is so in denial about it. Till a silly fanfic esq situation gets them alone and he can't deny the attraction, physical and emotional anymore?! Chefs kiss the drama!

I also love the idea for Trans masc Koby, that Garp is just like Luffy in his acceptance, like hes so confused as to why people would be upset that Koby identifies as a man. "You say you're a man so you're a man. " simple as that.

Also, forehead kisses on his scar!!!!!

Steal his bandana to tie up your own hair, the mans heart nearly stops and he clutches his chest.

Also i love the idea of his S/O trolling Alvida in subtle ways. As petty revenge on Koby's behalf. Like just any chance they get, they fuck with her. Steals her hat or something just goofy shit that you know would drive the unhinged woman mad.

Koby would 10/10 write little love poems in that notepad/ sketch book for his s/o or crush. Not that he'd be brave enough to share. He could be convinced. Lol

Hes a precious little Peony

[itsjustbell]

The Dive

Viktor x reader

Summary: It seems your feelings for your friend Viktor have grown into much more than you thought. When did this even happen?

This is literally just sappy drabble, just me gushing over Viktor. Too much time rewriting and editing--not nearly enough proofreading, but I'm trying to not focus on whether it's perfect or not. Hope it's at least comprehensible, haha. Enjoy <3

Love can be a lot of things. It can be a river, flowing constantly over and around obstacles, smoothing over hard edges, and even through stone with constant, gentle effort.

Love can be a fire. Growing from one glowing ember, with enough care and tenderness, to the roaring flame of a hearth. Strong enough to keep out the cold through dark winters and burning bright through even the most thunderous storms. 

But this… This had crept up on you, much like how sleep crawls to the insomniac. You couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment that you fell, only noticing the floatiness of sleep once you’d already dived in headfirst. One moment you were fine, and the next you’d somehow found yourself opening eyes you didn’t even realize you had closed. 

You’d known Viktor for a while now, enough to comfortably secure yourself a spot amongst the few he harbored as friends. This…fluttering feeling that threatened to choke you whenever he was around, like the butterflies in your stomach were trying desperately to fly out of your mouth in the form of some lovesick confession. Never before had you felt so strongly about someone.  Never before had you craved someone. His mere presence alone seemed to soothe your anxiety ridden mine, while also somehow increasing it tenfold at the same time. Even when he was gone, he still managed to force his way into your thoughts. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were sick– And perhaps you were in a different sort of way. 

Has he always looked that good? Had the sun always caressed his cheek like that? What would that same cheek feel like under your own hand? The amount of hours you had spent wondering how it felt to cradle his face in your hands and gaze into those striking amber eyes that seemingly glowed in the golden light of the evening, and to have them stare back— as if you were a star yourself? The thought alone was dizzying. 

It wasn’t just that he looked like he was hand sculpted by the gods themselves. No, Viktor was more than just a pretty face. He was kind. Sure, he might’ve seemed like some self-righteous smart ass when you’d first met him, but under all that he was gentle. He was understanding. He made you feel seen. Talking to him felt so… easy. 

Maybe it was on one of those late nights in the lab after a long day in your studio that you fell. Soft, easy conversations and eyes filled with mirth as you both exchanged wild stories and the kinds of secrets that only seem to come out when the lights dim and the stars are out. 

You’d had four cups of coffee between the two of you. He was telling a story from his and Jayce’s academy days. One of the student galas towards the end of the year. 

“--I’d never seen Jayce more…more, how do you call it? Ehh…” 

“Wasted?” You offered. His eyes lit up. 

“Yes, wasted!” He laughed, “He looked about ready to tip over– and he did, right into some poor girl.” 

You shook your head as laughter bubbled out from your chest. “I think I heard about that on the tail end of the gossip chain.” 

“Eh, I’m surprised you didn’t see it with how large the crowd was.”

“I didn’t go.” 

He seemed surprised at this. 

“I was too busy finishing up my final projects that year, I think.” You looked down into your lukewarm cup of coffee, now forgotten on the desk you’d been sitting on. “Wanted a perfect portfolio… plus I didn’t really have anyone to go with.” 

When you’d looked back at him, there was something in his eyes that had made your skin buzz. If love – or whatever this is, is a fire, then surely what he’d said after were the first sparks. 

“I’m sure that if I– If we, me and Jayce that is, had met you earlier you could’ve gone with us,” 

  Something about that slight fumbling of his words. The slight pull of his eyes before he looked back down at the machine he was tinkering with. 

"Yea?"

“Yes, plus… it would’ve been nice to have someone else there to deal with the aftermath of Jayce’s poor choices.”

And every moment after that simply fanned the sparks into the rumbling flame that lived between your ribs. The first unknowing foot into the deep end.

[spotaus]

Thinking about Orchid and her connection to my take on Gender (because this was meant to be about her and the Crew but it just devolved into a character analysis kinda??? More trauma-dumping maybe???) This is very much an oc/personal rant so feel free to ignore it 🫡

So, Orchid started off as a character I didn't really think much of (hear me out this is going to be relevant) because I wanted to add a 'girl' character but didn't know what to *do* with her, y'know? She was always going to be the strongest one there, she had the odds stacked in her favor with her parents. She was always going to be the gloomy side-character to match Reset's energy. But I think she's gone through every stage of Generic Woman I could possibly find.

At first she was angry and abrasive (think Fell!Sans) where every other word was a curse and she was likely to throw the first punch then laugh as she kicks her enemy while they're down. This was when Reset was a cartoonishly self-centered villain whose goal was simply to prove others wrong. Then Orchid became a sort of sisterly figure. This was short-lived, but she was the one comforting people who Reset would torment, but would ultimately follow his orders, because at this point he was actually a danger and sadistic. And then there was the phase where the story mellowed out and she became the token Goth Girl who, yes she was strong, but was heavy on the 'whatever' energy. Then there was her Era of deep self-loathing and anxiety about her worth that held her back and made her a much more timid and meek character who would only lash out on occasion.

Now, Orchid is the best of those iterations I've written yet. She's calm, level-headed, and a natural leader. Her father raised those traits into her. But she's very reactive, and can be silly, and when she's comfortable it's likely that air of importance transforms into something more comfortable and familiar. She laughs loudly and grins wide, she likes loud video-games but loves to read in the quiet. She's extremely disciplined, and normally no one can get through her tough exterior besides her best friend, Reset. She does what she does for her own enjoyment, sure, but she's thought of every angle and makes her choice to help Reset and control the others with her whole chest. She still worries she won't live up to her invisible expectations, and that and her loyalty are her two driving forces.

I know that Orchid is important to me because she's the longest-running female oc I've had. I have a rough relationship with womanhood/girlhood and I know looking back that Orchid recieved every ounce of my distaste for being a woman that I could shovel into her. That never made her less of a character, she was actually always one of my favorites, and rarely was she a 'punching bag oc'. I just... projected onto her a lot. And she's a good sign of how I've learned who I am. I've decided that my own femininity is something I could live without. I'd rather not associate myself with it, and I'd like to leave it in my past, focusing on a future where I'm not tied down with any gender roles or expectations. That won't happen, but I've come to terms with it myself. Orchid though? I figured out through her that I don't have to hate women characters. My own distaste for my circumstances doesn't mean I have to push it onto my characters (on God I've never expressed anything rude to actual people, that'd be rude as hell and uncalled for, but I have a bad habit of disliking fictional women in media). So, Orchid is a well-roubded character finally. She has motivations abd goals and a *lot* more depth than I ever expected her to. She's happy with being a woman, she's content. She's not treated differently for it in unfair ways by those she cares about, so she doesn't mind it. She likes to wear pretty outfits and lets Reset add bows to her ribbons. She doesn't let being a woman hold her back in the slightest.

So, yeah. Orchid is one of my babies. If I ever leave this Fandom behind for good, she's one that's coming with (Ichor, Orchid, and Pretender all have human designs I can use elsewhere lol-) but in the meantime I'll just rotate her around in my brain for a while longer.

If I'm right, she's been with me for nearly 5-6 years and I went through a *lot* with her as an outlet. So, she's kinda just like an old stuffed animal. A lil ripped, matted fur, maybe a stain or two, but there's a story there and that makes it important beyond belief.

[saccharinescorpion]

oh christ i typed up way too many thoughts about the Teal Mask story

spoilers of course

TO BEGIN WITH literally everything here has a big ol’ asterisk with “subject to change” attached to it, i was surprised at how much of a “to be continued” ending the main story had and i’m trying not to get my hopes too high for Indigo Disk, but wowzers

Carmine’s line about tourism… i have a lot of feelings, but the one looming over my head like a fucking sword of Damocles is “did the writers not intend this to have as much weight as i am ascribing to it lmao” because it’s only the one line and GOD i don’t want to be the “reading too much into stories for babies” person all the time but!! But!!!!

(recalls the scene where Nemona talks to you about feeling isolated because of her talent and recalls my feeling of “why was this only in one scene where she flatout looks at the camera and says this”)

well even if it’s not supposed to be “that” important-

1) sure makes the TCG Tournament in Hawaii feel even more bitterly ironic lmao (obligatory yes i know the game writers are not responsible for most stuff that happens in the wider franchise i’m just SAYING it’s ironic)

2) GOSH it sure does make those ugly jokes people kept making about Carmine even grosser than they already were (if you don’t know what i’m talking about, Don’t Worry About It)

As someone on twitter said it feels weird to have this sort of plot point after not exploring it at all in the game with the Hawaii analogue. at the same time i do have to wonder if it was a response to working on those games and doing some thinking. Who can say

God ALL of that was for one line

KIERAN!! Okay, i know i’ve been giving Kieran a lot of shit but his plot progression is genuinely very compelling. recent games have been exploring the “rival who feels inadequate” type of character but this is the first time one has gone off the deep end like this, and i really hope they push it into interesting places

Cutesy shy “oh gosh oh wowzers” pre-development Kieran… in the end i did feel a bit charmed by how sincere he is for the record!

but also i’m genuinely so glad he ended up having Inner Darkness lol

Sorry Kieran i just don’t like it when it feels like the writer is trying way too hard to make me say “i want to protect you”

By extension sorry Wally lmao because he really was the ancestor of this type in the Pokemon franchise

I tried not to take the fact that i really didn’t want the damn Ogerpon too personally lol, this is one of those moments where i really had to force myself to step back and remember that these games are not for me, they are for tiny children who often really do buy into the Gotta Catch Em All thing and probably felt some genuine inner turmoil at this

But god like, please. I have my giant puppy lizard who makes vroom vroom noises. Ogerpon you are so cute but we can never have the bond i have with my bike

Kieran falling to his knees after the last battle genuinely got me, so did him punching the shrine even with the dumb “owie ><” gag afterwards

OKAY talking about the battles damn Kieran and Carmine were tough opponents i had to try Kieran’s last fight like three times (admittedly because i was using my weaker Kitakami team but STILL)

Kieran feeling bad for the ogre was projecting “THIS CHARACTER FEELS LIKE AN OUTCAST” and i picked that up loud and clear, and that was good, but i wish they actually… made him seem like an outcast?

Don’t get me wrong, Kieran definitely has self-confidence issues, issues with talking to others, anxiety issues (possibly), and that can easily make someone feel like an outcast

But i feel like there’s a big difference between that and someone (Ogerpon and her trainer) who is actively shunned and mistreated by the people around them, and i was really hoping for that from Kieran

It’s just the Pokemon thing of finding it hard to depict people really being actively malicious (see Penny and Team Star’s bullies and their enablers all doing their thing off-screen and then leaving off-screen)

But it’s doubly weird because they didn’t have much issue with showing characters in this story being terrible (Carmine)

Carmine!!! Her terribleness was genuinely so entertaining, a lot of the time i was simultaneously laughing and thinking “oh people are going to be SO mad”

But real talk for all my love of Girls Who Suck i do actually kind of get where some people are coming from, she is genuinely very abrasive and unpleasant at times, and though i don’t agree at least i can tell where the character hate is stemming from (unlike some of the absolute batshit stuff i saw about Geeta and Nemona, don’t get me staaaarted)

And speaking of… okay i feel like i’m pushing it even talking about this but i feel it would be dishonest to pretend that i’m not thinking about it

SOOOO the “it’s not like i hit him” line… another case of “did the writers intend this to be as big as it is in my mind,” combined with uhhh writers from a different generation than me, let’s say

For now i will interpret that at face value, but like… damn, i don’t think that reads as you want it to especially in a Pokemon game

Carmine pleaseeeeeee say you’re sorry to Kieran in Indigo Disk please please please i know she apologized for leaving him in the dark but my dearest dream is for her to apologize for being so mean to him all the time. she needs to just treat him better in general. please i will forgive Kieran having to apologize for taking the mask if we can do this please

I know i know cultural differences but we already had Clavell apologize for the failures of the school system, this isn’t THAT big of  a stretch

I am genuinely curious if Indigo Disk will pull a reverse plot twist and reveal Ogerpon’s trainer to be a bad person or reveal that he was the one to attack the Loyal Three first because if not DAMN we’re just going to have some flat out evil Pokemon? that we can potentially put on a team with Ogerpon?????

Ogerpon is a silly lil girl :)

I still haven’t done Perrin’s plot lol

[thousand-winters]

Can you imagine Hunter trying to make himself as unburden as possible?

He sleeps as little as he can, eats just a little under the bare minimum, and does way to many chores in hopes that he Can makes Darius like him.

It probably doesn’t take long for Darius to catch on.

Oh, yeah, unfortunately he would so do that.

As I always mention, I think what really shakes him up between those months living at the Nocedas and when he first moves with Darius and Eber is that he doesn't have the other kids as a sort of "debuffer", nor a clear goal he can tell himself he's working toward that could justify that he's just kinda just having a good time here instead of earning his place like he had to do before, so a lot of anxieties he could ignore before just resurface and there's nothing to distract himself from it, no "well, my friends are doing this and it seems okay, so I suppose it applies to me too?"

Now he can't justify being "lazy" and sleeping more than, say, 5 hours, because there's no one else around doing the same, right? And it hardly matters in his mind that Darius and Eber obviously don't sleep that little because well, duh, why would they? This is where they live, they don't have to earn it unlike him. And the same goes for food and for asking for any necessities. He doesn't even want to mention when his scars itch or any lingering pain he might have from all those years at the castle.

First things first he has to earn something as basic as the right to stay here.

At first Darius thinks that it's reasonable that Hunter seems tired and that he always finds him awake already in the morning; he has gone through so much, having been dead and his best friend giving his life for him very much included, so for him to have trouble sleeping isn't odd. Concerning, yes, but Hunter is still a bit cagey when asked if he wants to talk about whatever's troubling him, so not too strange.

Similarly, it's normal for him not to have much of an appetite given all the traumatic experience he went through in such a short period of time, not to mention all the others he's barely processing now. And him seemingly not wanting to do much of anything? That's also normal, of course he wouldn't launch himself into trying to watch movies or read or do fun activities right away, everyone copes with trauma in different ways and if Hunter needs some quiet time for himself, that is alright.

But then Darius notices Hunter does seem like he's on the verge of falling asleep several times before waking up in a panic, and while he atributes that to nightmares first, Hunter acts as if he was caught committing a crime when he spots Darius watching him. At some other point he hears his stomach growling after he said he wasn't hungry anymore at lunch, and he certainly doesn't seem like he's planning to grab a snack or ask for one, so the suspicions start there. Darius knows Hunter and his unhealthy habits better than most after all, he witnesses quite a lot of them while they were both still in the coven.

The moment Hunter insists he would love to do the laundry when he looks a second away from passing out and he sounds more desperate than actually thrilled for a new life experience is when Darius decides enough is enough and he doesn't really need more evidence to know something is truly wrong here.

By this point, Hunter is probably at the end of his rope, so when Darius presses him gently, but firmly, he's just gonna break and spill. It's gonna be a bit ugly, but at least the problem will finally be out there, and while one single conversation with Darius clarifying that he doesn't need Hunter to try and mute his own presence for him to accept him won't fix everything, it'll be a start.

Now every time Hunter starts falling back into those habits, he can get some nudges and reminders that he can sleep a bit more, even sleep in late if he wants to (which definitely does NOT mean until 6am only), that he can actually eat his whole meal and ask for more (he's a growing teenager after all), and while it's good for him to do chores, he doesn't have to do everything, they can come to a household arrangement to see what everyone does, and that's more like basic house maintenance anyway, not something he's doing to earn his place. He can forget from time to time and he won't be kicked out for that.

It's going to be hard because it's going to be different but he'll get there.

[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 16: say goodbye to filters @whumperless-whump-event

half-conscious / delirious / “you would never say that in your right mind…”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Simon

whumpee: Archie

cw: drug mention in the sense of anesthesia post-op and also mention of vomit but it doesn't happen in the fic (let me know if i should tag anything)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The woman at the front desk smiled warmly as Simon approached. “Hello dear, how can I help you?”

Simon had his fingers wrapped around the edge of the counter in a white knuckle grip, feeling his breath hitch softly.

“I need to see a patient,” He said quickly.

“Patient’s name?” The woman asked, tapping away at her keyboard.

“Archie-- Archer. Archer Schultz.”

The woman didn’t say anything for a beat, and Simon felt all the breath leave him at once.

“Is he.. he’s fine, right? His work called me. I got here as fast as I could, so he’s okay, right?” He stammered, fingers drumming against the cool tile of the counter.

Simon isn’t even sure why he said it, the words just sort of tumbled out in an anxiety-induced frenzy. He felt like there was a vice around his lungs-- like he couldn’t take in enough air.

He had been in class when Archie’s work called him. Of course, he immediately dropped everything to step out and answer. Simon was Archie’s emergency contact, so the call only really meant one thing. An emergency.

And an emergency it was. 

Apparently, Archie had gone into work that day looking like death, and only lasted about an hour before his co-worker found him on the bathroom floor, covered in vomit, and screaming-- yes, screaming in pain. An ambulance was quickly called, and he was taken to the hospital. That was as far as Simon knew.

And it was killing him.

Usually, whenever Archie was hurt, Simon was right there by his side, doing everything he could to help him. He knew how to take care of Archie like it was breathing. He knew the difference between a “that hurts!” grimace and a “that tickles!” grimace. He knew what flavor of gatorade Archie liked best, and that he was allergic to latex. The fact that such a serious situation happened while Simon wasn’t there to pick up the pieces was sending him into a full-blown panic.

“Ah yes, here he is. He was admitted about an hour ago, yes?”

“Yes.” Simon’s voice came out breathless.

“Well it says here that he was admitted for an emergency appendectomy. But.. hold on a minute.”

Simon quite literally felt like he was going to pass out then and there. He was scrutinizing this poor woman’s face for some kind of information.

“It looks here that the procedure went well! He’s recovering in a post-op room right now, the whole thing only took about half an hour,” She said cheerfully.

The relief that crashed over Simon was dizzying. It almost felt like his knees would buckle then and there, but he steeled himself.

“Can I go see him?” He breathed, drumming his fingers once again.

“Im sorry dear, only immediate family are allowed in post-operative care--”

“I am his family.” Simon’s voice came out harsher than he expected, and he felt a blush creep up on his ears. “I just mean.. I’m his emergency contact. He doesn’t have anyone else nearby.”

The woman adjusted her glasses on her nose and tapped away on her keyboard. “Name?”

“Simon Guevara.”

After a few more clicks, she met Simon with a smile.

“That was my mistake. Your name checks out. He’s in Room 2043 to the left.”

Simon muttered a quick thank you before taking off down the hallway as fast as his legs would take him. His heart was thumping in his chest in time with every step.

Eventually, he stopped in front of the door and took a moment to breathe deeply. He needed to get himself together-- for Archie.

He gently pushed the door open, and his heart clenched at the sigh before him.

Archie was propped up in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out of his arms and he looked adorably out of it, no doubt from all the pain meds they had him on. His hair was an absolute mess-- sticking up in every direction and seemingly defying gravity. 

The most concerning thing, though, were the tear tracks down his face.

“Archie,” Simon breathed, finally closing the distance between them. “I’m here..”

He reached up and cradled Archie’s face, using his other hand to smooth his blond curls.

“S-Simon..” He slurred, before his breath hitched and his face scrunched up and he.. began to bawl. Loudly.

Simon froze. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from Archie flying high as a kite, but this somehow wasn’t it.

“Hey, hey.. shh.. what’s the matter?” Simon murmured, running his thumb over Archie’s cheek. “It’s alright.. I’m right here..”

A nurse walked in with some folded blankets and greeted Simon politely.

“You must be Simon?” She asked, setting the bundle of fabric on the table beside Archie’s bed.

Simon nodded, absent-mindedly threading a hand through Archie’s locks.

“He’s been asking for you since he woke up. He’s a real mess.” She said, amusement lacing her voice. “Hasn’t stopped crying either. He’s not a big fan of hospitals, is he?”

Simon shook his head and turned back to Archie, who was blinking sleepily and jolting every few seconds with barely-contained sobs. His heart shattered into a million pieces.

Once the nurse left, he stepped closer to the bed and pulled Archie to his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling protectiveness swirl in his chest.

“S’mon..” He hiccupped. “They took my stomach.. I’m.. n’ver gonna eat again!”

This sent Archie into another round of fitful sobs, and Simon into stifled laughter.

“They didn’t take your stomach, Archie. They took your appendix. You don’t need your appendix. You can still eat whatever you want,” He huffed, a smile playing on his lips.

Archie considered this.

“French fries…?” The words came out as a soft whimper.

“Yes, even french fries. I will treat you to all the french fries you want once you’re feeling better.”

This seemed to placate Archie for the time being. He simply nuzzled closer to Simon, clutching at his shirt and burying his face into his stomach. He let out a stuttering sigh and blinked against the drowsiness coursing through his veins.

“You’re so.. nice..” He whispered.

Simon felt his ears heat up as he continued rubbing wide circles on Archie bare back, courtesy of the scratchy hospital gown.

“M’so lucky..” Archie continued, lifting his groggy eyes up to meet Simon’s. “I was sc’red you weren’t gonna come..”

Simon frowned.

“I’ll always come, Archie. No matter what.”

At this, Archie's face crumpled once again and he pushed it back into the fabric of Simon’s sweater.

“L’ve you, Simon..” He mumbled, words muffled by the position.

Simon went beet-red. “..What?”

Archie lifted his face again and sniffled.

“I love you. You’re.. mmhg.. you’re so nice to me..” He slurred, blinking sleepily.

Simon wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. All at once, he realized how deeply he cared about Archie. All the feelings he felt for him were compacted into just one, small word. Simon suddenly understood that he loved Archie too.

But he could say nothing.

“Archie, you’d never say that in your right mind… it’s the drugs talking.”

Archie hummed in disagreement, shaking his head, but it was clear that he had had quite enough of being awake. He stifled a yawn and leaned heavily into Simon’s arms.

Simon gently lowered him back onto the pillows, pulling the blanket up to his chin. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before settling into the chair next to the bed. He took Archie’s hand in his own.

Now, with only Archie’s soft, even breathing to fill the silence, Simon had a lot of feelings to work through. He sighed.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren #11

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Wren felt much better now that Silas had worked it out with Felix. Silas’s anxiety had been rubbing off on him the past two weeks, and he was glad that it was over. 

Unfortunately, he still had the problem from before the debacle; Silas would not have sex with him. But he had a plan. 

He’d given up on romancing Silas. Just another thing slaves were unsuited for apparently. 

There were other ways to get into Silas’s bed.

He showered and scrubbed in all the right places, and pulled on a v-neck shirt. He checked himself in the mirror, and he made sure his hair looked just right.

“You look nice,” commented Silas when he glanced up from his book. 

“Thank you, Master.” He shifted a little. It was easy to think about seducing Silas, but actually doing it was another matter. “What are you reading?”

“Some sci-fi novel.” He sighed and put it to the side. “It’s not really catching my attention, though. I suppose I should return it.” He picked up the book again.

“Want to come with me? It’d be nice to get out of the house.”

“Is that… allowed?” Silas tilted his head.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I… I don't know. I’ve never done that sort of thing before.”

“Well, vampire towns are pretty similar to human ones. Nothing to worry about.” Silas got up to grab his shoes, and Wren hesitated before following suit. He wasn’t sure Silas really… understood what Wren was. 

He was human only in technicality. All the important parts, the thinking and feeling parts, were different. He wasn’t made to go out into town like a person was. But if Silas wanted him to, he’d figure it out the best he could.

Wren chewed the inside of his cheek, and followed Silas out the door. 

___________________

Master’s house was private with a long driveway, but it was deceptively close to town. Just past the gate was a cobblestone road, and soon they reached a row of townhouses. 

There were people milling about, children playing street games, and music coming from somewhere. Wren shuffled closer to Silas. Weren’t these people supposed to be at work and the kids at school?

Of course. It was Saturday, and he'd forgotten.

He could feel the moment they smelled him. The glance that turned into a gaze, the staring that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

The children were far less subtle, sometimes stopping their games of tag or ball to gape at him. 

He lowered his eyes properly and made sure to follow Silas exactly. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, Master.” 

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m sorry, Master, I don’t understand.”

Silas put his arm around his shoulder, and leaned in. “You don’t have to look like that,” he whispered, “as if you’re in trouble. Okay?”

“I don’t-”

“Walk next to me, alright? Not behind. And you can look up. No one’s going to hurt you, but you're acting like prey.”

“Yes, Master.”

It felt strange at first, but he quickly got used to it. More pretending, but Silas liked this kind.

Master Silas was strange, too. He couldn’t pinpoint it at first, but Wren knew his Master. 

Silas stood taller, flashed shiny smiles at people who knew him, and waved at neighbors. Even his words were more formal. Gone was the casual “hi” and “hey”, and “hello” and “good afternoon” replaced them.

Maybe he was pretending, too. Weird.

The townhouses gave way to a park, and then the stone stores and brick businesses. 

And to his surprise, he could read the signs.

He stopped and stared at the words. He mouthed them, making sure it wasn’t his imagination. H-a-l-l-m-a-n-’s. Hallman’s. T-o-y-s. Toys. Hallman’s Toys.

Holy shit.

Wren wasn’t sure that Silas’s reading lessons were actually working, but the proof was in front of him.

Lord and La-dy Stit-ching, Ei-leen’s A-po-the-car-y, it went on.

“Still alright?” 

“Master, I can read!” he whispered back.

Silas beamed at him, proud and pleased, and Wren’s heart fluttered.

The library was big, all white stone with columns and tall windows. The inside had plush carpets, and it was nearly silent but for a quiet murmur of people.

Silas put the book in the ‘return’ (how exciting!) pile, and went to wander the shelves.

“How about you go pick something out? To celebrate.” he suggested before strolling off.

Where to start?

He browsed the shelves in ‘my- mys- mystery’. That seemed interesting.

Wren plucked Murder on the Ori- Orient- ? - Express off the bookcase. He’d heard of this one, actually. He wasn’t sure what ‘orient’ meant, but a famous murder mystery book sounded intriguing. 

He was trying to suss out the description on the back when he felt somebody staring at him.

He turned, and it was a small child. She squinted at him.

“Your body’s weird,” she said. “And you smell funny.”

“What?”

“I said you’re weird.”

“Um-”

“Laura!” came a hushed voice, and the girl’s mother came into view. “That’s no way to talk to-” the woman glanced up at him, and Wren flushed. The woman straightened, and gave him an apologetic look.

“Laura, say you’re sorry to the nice man.”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Speak up honey, human ears aren’t as- um- focused as ours.” 

“It’s fine,” he hurried, “I heard her. It’s okay.”

The little girl lit up. “Are you really a human?” she squealed, and her sudden joy gave him whiplash. “Is that why your eyes are funny?”

“I guess?” he shifted his weight, and Laura’s own eyes followed him like a cat watching a mouse.

“Laura!” said her mother, scandalized. “I’m so sorry, she’s never seen one- I mean- a human before.”

“Really. It’s okay.”

“Honey,” she bent down to her daughter, “how about we pick out a nice book about humans and we leave the lovely man alone.” Her voice was firm, and Laura seemed to pick up on her mother’s urgency.

“Okay, mama. Bye!” She waved.

Wren waved back. 

He went to find Silas. 

The walk home was much better. Smoother, now that he knew what was expected. 

It was an okay day, on reflection. Not a success on the sex front, but the revelation he could actually read more than made up for it.

He put the book on his nightstand. He’d start it another day, because quite frankly he had enough adventure. Fictional adventure could wait until tomorrow.

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump @susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik @morning-star-whump @writereleaserepeat @annablogsposts

[box-architecture]

more of this specific au

Quackity destroying Dream's scalp and hair in prison. Sam holding a piece of hair to inspect the damage.

Sam is actually really upset about this, even though Dream doesn't get why

Ah yes, torture is okay, but but destroying her hair? Something Sam used to spend hours brushing when they were young, and made her stare when Dream was on the battlefield?

Sam ends up banning Quackity for a week and tries to repair the damage herself. (Sam is. Extremely Stressed. Dream's hair is Important. It's a sign that things are Normal. Dream can't really be having too hard a time, she's still taking care of her hair!)

Dream will 100 percent insist she doesn't care and that it doesnt matter, shes being tortured for fucks sake. (Being feminine was important to her. Being able to go toe to toe with anyone and win while also getting to be a woman. Because there's always that pressure to sort of. renounce femininity when you get higher up. People sneer at you for caring about your appearance)

She bites her tongue while Sam inspects her scalp, and there's a deep, resentful pit in her stomach. Just A Pretty Thing. Regardless of what she was enduring. It felt like the torture wasn't real for Sam until she saw this. And there's some part of Dream that wants Sam to see how ugly it really was. Sam finally getting a glimpse of the reality, torture isn't pretty, this isn't a game that Sam can win.

When Quackity is let back in it shatters something inside her a bit. She keeps finding little bits of faith in Sam and it keeps proving futile. Since this is an alternate communication knife au she probably starts up the favors around now, but she is Not Doing Great.

Also makes the favors have a different undercurrent of tension to them. Sam is wrestling with guilt about the hair (and trying hard to ignore the fact that Dream is now covered in scars) and Dream is trying hard to Perform Pretty, anxious that Sam will stop the favors because she doesn't look like how she likes.

Everything Is Fine.

Punz ends up holding Dream and rocking her a lot post prison. Dream is briefly stuck in a cycle of hating what she looks like and hating herself for caring about what she looks like.

When the escape happens, Punz sees Dream's hair destroyed and Dream is forced to stop and get a warm jacket and scarf and is forced into Comfy Time (Dream is not pleased).

Techno breaks Dream out, lets Dream fuck off wherever, Dream goes back to Punz, and Punz sees the state of Dream's hair and instantly knows somethings wrong. She doesn't manage to get much out of Dream while she's trying to go get the Axe of Peace back, but she does demand Dream come see her after.

When they meet and Punz questions her about her hair, Dream has a mild meltdown, raging about how her hair didn't matter and it was fine and is that all that matters to Punz? And Punz, who is just trying their best, ends up hugging her and they sit on the floor while Dream cries.

This Is Very Fine.

Dream gets cleaned up and bandaged and taken care of, and Punz has decided that Sam and Quackity will die. First one doesn't end up happening, but like, one out of two is still pretty good.

When they do end up becoming a trio with Sam, the eventual talk about the hair is. Interesting. And by that I mean Sam decides she isn't up for sex once, and Dream kind of lurches and and goes off to the bathroom to have a very quiet anxiety attack (Sam doesn't want to have sex with her Sam doesn't want her because she isn't pretty anymore her hair is gone she's different now-)

And Sam panics because Dream very abruptly left looking upset, and when Dream doesn't answer she calls she breaks in and flounders a bit before loafing on top of Dream and purring to try to calm her down.

-

"I'm not going to be pretty again"

"What?" Sam looked down at her, confused.

"My hairs gone. Its not coming back," Dream informed her. Sam was not allowed to wrap her arms around her, but she pressed herself a little closer. "You ruined it."

"I didn't," Sam protested instantly, "Quackity did-"

"You did it," Dream stressed, "You let her in. And now its gone. You're not getting it back. So why don't you just leave."

Dream curled up tighter into a ball in the tub. Where was Punz? Punz was always good at making Sam leave.

Sam hesitated. Her ears drooped. "I don't want to leave you."

"You heard what I said."

"Yes, but… I don't… you're very pretty." Sam mumbled, face heating up. "I can call you pretty more often, if you want."

Dream felt a little numb.

"What," she croaked, or she thought she did. She didn't seem to fully exist in her body at the moment. "was the point of all this? You let Quackity torture me for months without a word, but the minute I lose my hair, you act like its a death sentence. You cared more about how I looked than you did about me. And now you're acting like it never happened."

Dream looked up at the light on the ceiling. It hurt to stare at, but she didn't care. "Get off your idiot train and go bother someone else. I'm sure being a loser got you a bunch of loser friends to hang out with."

For a long time, it was silent. Dream continued to stare at the light, never glancing in Sam's direction. There was no shuffle of creeper paws, no shutting of the door, no indignant huff. Just silence.

Finally, in a very small voice, Sam said, "I'm sorry."

Dream didn't respond.

"I liked your hair. It was, you." Sam shifted, trying to find the words. She struggled for a moment, before wilting. "When it was gone, it felt. Wrong. You're supposed to be you."

Dream closed her eyes. The light hurt too much.

"I should have done a lot of things different. Like, like letting Quackity in. Or panicking over your hair. Or… all of it."

Sam swallowed. "Even if I don't have the right to say it, I still think you're pretty. Even without your hair, you look really nice. Like, sunlight. Or a butterfly."

Dream snorted wetly. "Butterflies are symmetrical. I'm not like that."

"But when they're in a garden," Sam insisted, "and you're looking at all the flowers, and they look nice, but you stare at the butterfly when it flies by, and you don't care about any of the flowers. You're looking at how pretty the butterfly is. You're like that."

Dream laughed softly, tasting salt in her mouth. "I don't know what that means."

Sam perked up. Her tail wagged. "Your laugh is pretty, too. Everything about you is pretty. It makes everyone want to look at you all the time. I-"

Sam cut herself off, cheeks pink. Dream turned her head in curiosity. "What?"

She stuttered, paws shuffling. "I like looking at you. When you're here. I like you."

Tension seeped slowly out of Dream's figure, draining her of any energy she had left over. Good. This was good. Sam wasn't leaving her over her hair, and Sam apologized. This was good. Everything was-

"Dream?" Sam asked in concern. Dream felt a wayward tear slide down the bridge of her nose.

"I'm tired." Her eyelids drooped at the realization. "If you bring me to the bed, you can sleep with me."

She felt Sam pick her up with surprising gentleness, cradling her to her chest. A warm breath fell against her torn ear.

"If you want that." Sam murmured.

Dream barely registered them leaving the bathroom. As soon as her body hit the sheets, she melted into its softness. The past hour had been so much, but she would sleep it off and things would make more sense.

Fluffy paw pads brushed at her cheeks. "You're crying, Dream."

"Mm."

A warm body pressed into hers and began to purr.

-

Punz shows up with Dreams meds or something like 30 minutes later, and nearly murders Sam. She's stopped by Dream, who asks for sleepy cuddles, and then they're forced to hold off on murdering Sam until they can find another reason to stab her.

[murkystarlight]

Dreamzzz season2 spoilers pt3

(And my personal comments)

I was caught up with school, better finish this up before I get caught up again-

Episode 6

I had my volume on really loud and it almost killed my ears

It starts off with a little fighting and banter who doesn't love that?

The Night Hunter losing his life, his purpose... I actually have no idea. Why is he acting so gloomy and under the weather? Any opinions? (I think he's just rethinking his life choices or smth)

"Ya- ya- you want us to rustle up some trouble with the Dream Bandit? You're always happy when she's around"

And my stupid brain that gets turned on and operates about the weirdest stupidest things thought "oh. So the fan theory is right" I mean.. did they try to hide it? It was kind of obvious that the Night Hunter had some sort of connection with Zoey

"You're always happy when she's around" (I feel like they know everything already. They just playing with him)

"Youre right.. I should find her. In the WAKING WORLD"

Why does his voice sound so... evil and malicious. He had no reason to make it sound so dramatic

"Don't burn the place down while I'm gone" and here his voice sounds so playful

And Susan and Snivel high-fiving and jumping around in joy- ahh why are they so cute

(Also, I need to know their intention behind the happiness. Is it 'yay! He's gone! We got the whole house to ourselves, PARTY!!' Kinda thing?)

Okay- might aswell start naming these background characters at this point.

"Wait. Can you be sore from a dream?"

If your body gets cramped. Yes.

The question is, if the rules are only use your hour glass, how did Logan and Zoey even get a chance to compete in the R.E.M? I thought you said tradition and rules were important

Seriously, why does the Night Hunter sound so... menacing everytime he speaks! He isn't saying anything bad or cool?!!

Tokyo?? Takashiii?

"Uhh... you ever feel like someone is staring at you?"

"We must be like celebrities now"

"Just act natural"

She was born for this. Girl boss ^^

"The REM's are a big deal. Or.. were."

Too bad we're having a contest to see who has the biggest imaginations (it got corrupted by the grand inspector)

"I see they wore their silly little costumes"

I'm sorry- but the silly costumes mean they still have that wild childish imagination! Not the ones you have that your probably memories all the different things you could use in possible situations (Like my counties learning :D)

I like the banana monster. It's cute

He's being sarcastic isn't it. Without their... ROYAL BLUNDERS

Day dreaming? Oh dear-...

So... the never witch is the biggest threat yet? Oh.... but then.. how was the Nightmare king able to keep her contained?? Why did-

"Now. As is tradition. The trials will determine the three best Dream Chasers, for a special task force to take on the Never Witch! Who will help restore the Dream World to greatness? Hm? Which of you can prove you're better than the rest? What lengths will you go to eradicate your competition?"

"Well, that took a weird turn"

Indeed Izzie. Very much. I hate those kind of characters. Or.. people kinda. She's too pure!! Ahhhhh

"Ooh, why can't we all just band together and defeat her?"

I know!! Why not?!!

He's so right. So smart and precious... and that ooh sound-.... ahhhhh

I feel like in part2 they're going to defeat the Never Witch all together! (I'm so smart. No one could've possibly thought of that HaHa.)

Drum roll please~

"Toss and turn"

"I love that one!" *sound effects* "wrangling a wild dream creature, rodeo style" Albert has so many mysteries to be solved about him

"....we are good dream chasers. Right?"

He's a ball of anxiety isn't he

"She's no better than we are"

"Banana monster!"

"[Screams] where, where, where?"

I told you! He's getting more playful and carefree!

Zoey had a purple(?) Streak of hair when she was younger! Yay!! Past memories!

Zoey really is good at throwing and hitting stuff

Bed bugs are also cute

"Why is everything blobby with you?"

"Uh, it worked on the Siren"

"Focus, Mateo!" Mr. Oz is really annoyed with Loyce

Lo-lo

Also, his arms definitely stretch out. Like a rubber band

"Then(sound of his glass helment), pretend it's a car. Or something-" Albert! I thought you were the logical one! He lost his memories remember??

And he's riding it! Well... I guess he's gotten more creative?

"Ugh, I rather feed this thing to Zian"

"I don't give a hoot if bugs give you nightmares or.. you take it on a date"

Yeah. Exactly

Miya is a little- ...bad girl. Yeah

"I am not losing to Royce!"

"Angry Oz was harsh, but he's right. We're better than this!"

"Oh I know I'm better than Astrid. We gotta fix this!"

Why does it sound like he has an accent here?😭

"The night bureau gives me some serious whiplash!"

I know- so.... ugh

"If he can handle Brooklyn arts, he can handle a kid from California"

I like Zoey's aunt. ...kinda? I'm not sure

And Zoey looks so much like her mom

"Are you.. ticking?"

No young Zoey. This is not the crocodile(is it alligator?) from Peter pan

And- we get the story of where she gets her watch~

Night hunter has a... fanclub? Okay Miya- suree

Also, how many times did the night hunter learn Zoey's name? Twice? Maybe this is the third time?

"Ooh, nice watch" really? Are you seriouhhhh

And finally the moment of truth

Oh- never mind. They're doing the R.E.M.s first

"Where the heck are Teo and Zoey!?"

"Feeling good. Feeling confident. Nothing can spoil these feels"

[Chair hisses] what is with these subtitles-!

"I stand corrected"

"Good luck, Logan. Hope your mad blue baby thing works out for you"

At this point. I'd be surprised if they don't end up dating-.. (mad blue baby thing- omg)

"-Where is Mateo?!"

"Ready to go. Back on my A-game. Meet my new secret weapon, X-blob"

(That's the name the Insomniacs gave Zblob! Did Nova help with the name? Was it an inspiration? Or just a little thing the creators added)

Such good sibling bond

"Not what Mr. Oz meant by 'think different' at all. Like, at all"

So very good

Sticky pudding? Okay- he's really tryna cook now. I want to see him in a chef's hat

Another one of the-... jumping at a friend to help them avoid a natural disaster and crushing them under your body. (We're really trying to save the values of friendship here)

"Yatta!" - Takashi

Poor X-blob

"I don't want to fight you" oh... "stay back!" Oh god...

Improvising, biting(?) it... also, Astrid is watching from above

Holding back??! I definitely hate him. Hate his guts

"My friends aren't holding me back!"

Good job Mateo. I trust you. You already learned your lesson about that when the Night Hunter tried to lure you. Right? You have my trust. Don't ruin it!

The appearance was definitely a bit shocking-...

"Dad?"

Episode 7

The name of it is "18 years ago"! A full episode dedicated to the past events?!

I was like- hell yeah

Cowboy?! Oh, yeah

I'm telling you. Those background characters!! I have to start naming them. Like the one who got his wallet(bag? Something) stolen is... going to be Alex. (Its probably the flannel. Someone help me-)

Coin magic!

Also, Hannah's eyelashes! Oh my goddd so prettyy

He's asking her out on a date!

Mr. Oz being the third wheel. (It's so weird seeing him so young....). Hee really didn't change much, did he.

The closest thing to a swear word we have in this series,

"Darn it"

I'm telling you, mr. Oz would have a swear word in every sentence if he wasn't working as a teacher (he learned to use different words)

"W-wha -what are you doing here?" *shook*

Apparently the nightmare kings sword is a very cool and amazing weapon. Super strong

The Brooklyn branch was the one who contained the Nightmare king, twice! And no appreciation?!

Nooooooo grand inspector Abraham!! I don't even know him but I like him.

Royce was always an a-

Unmaker

Hannah looks so different. Too different. Uh- okay heh

Hannah and Beau bantering- ah it's too cute

Also, why is mr. Oz so obsessed with Lunia? Something exciting

I like the gnorfs

"Dream chasers??"

She's so fun. And her sister too. And the horse doing the evil laugh

The stopwatch!! Ooohhh

"Is that-...?"

Listen to mr. Oz laughing. It- it's nice here

I really like it when they make two guns and give one to someone else.

Mr. Oz also used a frying pan?? Yeahhhh

Shin? Power over love? Oooh~

And the compass??

The banter-

Hannah definitely looked like she was havin problems with that sword.

"Eh, we're dream chasers. We improvise"

I guess I'm a dream chaser. I always improvise on tests ;)

"How many friends are you willing to lose? Oz? Albert? Me?" So sweet. But also, something that keeps coming into mind, it's not like they're dying. They just... don't get to be a lucid dreamer, or if they get captured, then they.. do fall asleep forever... but still- how does this work?

"I wouldn't hesitate to wield that sword to save you" dang...... oh my lord I love this

Beau using a bow

"That's one of the things I love about-.."

"What was that~?"

Oh these love birds.

His running-

.....Shin looks a bit like-....

"What the-"

"What? We're here to get this thing. Right?" Hannah- *sigh*

"You really didnt get the lesson behind the legend, did ya?"

"There was a lesson?"

"Yeah, evil in the heart. And don't steal from strange statues!"

Lasso!

Hourglass! Is that what happened to his hourglass?

The sword is wielded!

A surge of purple energy. Evil laugh- world turns purple. A sigh.

"What I had to do. What you've been saying we should do all day"

"No. You were right!"

"You matter more than anything"

The hand hold- the smile.... ahhhhghh

Emotional rollercoaster ride-

The kissssssss

(My first thought was "oh... so that's how legos kiss-. Then I started screaming like I went crazy because they confessed)

"You owe me a trip to the beaches of Tropicanesia"

They made a bet- ohhhhh

Look at Albert hopping/walking

Mr. Oz refusing the grand inspector job..... and also being mad that Royce would take the job-

"If we have kids we can-" oh god..... he already had the-....

The sisters shipped them the moment they saw then. Lol-

So...... Beau took the watch just like that and the sisters didnt even try to get it back? Or... ?

But I guess the night hunter was always kind sketchy..

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