#netflix you actually did something good for one e

[i-suc-at-art]

someone please tell me that there is a fic of Ballister and Nimona actually running away together and living out their lives because i will be so incredibly invested and happy

[roseareeh]

Purple Hearts | Steve Harrington x Military! Reader

Notes: Guess who's back 🕺 Back again 🕺 Noa's back 🕺 Tell a friend 🕺 For my return, I made y'all a whammy of a story. I hope you enjoy! This is inspired by the movie Purple Hearts, which is available on Netflix. Also a big, big, BIG thank you to @losingmygrasponreality because she wrote Steve's proposal, a big part of the letter and helped me with the e-mails. I love you! 🤍

Words: 18.4k

Warnings: Operation Desert Storm, Deployment, Medical Issues due to diabetes, leg injury, death, description of grief

“She's back!”, Robin yelled through her house. Unexpectedly, she saw your truck pull in the driveway. “She's back, she's back, she's back!” Quick footsteps echoed through the hallway as she hurried down the stairs. Her mother gave her a confused look, but saw what was happening by taking a peek out the window.

You, Robin's best friend since childhood, came back from deployment after 10 months. “You're back!”, she screamed while running through the door and into your arms. “Oh my god, you're back! Did you miss me? What are you doing here? Weren't you gonna be away for 2 more months?” Robin didn't let go while showering you with questions.”Yes, I'm visiting, yes.”, you giggled while hugging her back and feeling your cap slip from your head. “My parents are out of town, you wanna have a sleepover?”

Funny enough, Robin was gonna ask you something and would've requested to meet alone with you. This was perfect! “Hell yeah I wanna have a sleepover!” Robin let go of you and made you follow after to pack her bag. You talked to her mother Lisa in the meantime, telling her that your deployment went well and you were excited to be back for a few months. She was also concerned about your health, but you assured her that you weren't hurt badly.

Robin hurried downstairs with her bag slung over her shoulder. “Come on, sleepover!”, she said while grabbing your hand. That reaction never changed, ever since you two were at least four. “Alright, come on. Bye Lisa!”

Your passenger seat was basically assigned to her at this point. Even if it was empty for the past 10 months, it was still her spot. “Did you get even more ripped while you were gone?”, she shamelessly asked. You didn't notice much, but she definitely did. That torso of yours was basically a tree trunk. “Maybe. Probably.”, you replied while leaving her driveway in the truck.

All your life, you lived just down the street from Robin. That contributed to your best friend status a lot. Driving wasn't necessary, but you also didn't want to leave your truck in her driveway. After the 2-minute drive, she practically jumped out of the car to get inside. “Come on! Can we order pizza? Please let it be pizza!”

So after ordering pizza, getting a glass of wine for one of you each and sitting down on the couch, you turned to her with a questioning look.

“What is it that you wanted to ask me?”

“So, you remember that big favour you owe me?” Honestly, you forgot all about it until she mentioned it just now. “I did now. Why? You need help?” Robin sighted while thinking about what to say. “So, a friend of mine…you know him, actually. Steve Harrington.” Steve? The guy who made your life a living hell? “Your friend, Robin? Seriously?”

“He changed, I promise! Steve's a good guy.” You leaned back against the couch and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “What does that have to do with the favour?” She sighted and took a deep breath. “Can you please marry him so he can get into your medical insurance?” Robin talked so fast that you had to take a good 30 seconds to even realise what she said, and then some more to grasp what she was asking you. “Excuse me?”, you finally asked in disbelief. That was actually insane. “He was diagnosed with Diabetes Type 1 a few months ago. His insurance doesn't cover the insulin he needs to, well, live, and if you'd marry him he'd get full insurance.” Sure, that made sense technically. But you'd break so many military laws. You'd scam the state, risk your job and possibly get jail time if someone found out. “Robin, that's illegal.”, you said. “Besides, he bullied me. Steve's not a good person.” Your best friend scrambled for her words, trying her absolute best to convince you to basically save her other best friend. “He changed. Please, at least talk with him about it. We really tried everything, but…I can't watch him die.” The desperation in her voice pulled at your heartstrings. Yes, you could marry him in theory. And you'd even get extra money just for being married. Not that you had any debts to pay off, but you were saving up for a new car. “Fine. I'll talk to him.” True to God, you've never seen her this desperate for anything. Not even when she came out to you and was hoping you'd stick by.

Just as you finished up breakfast and were getting ready to go on a run, the doorbell rang. It was Robin and Steve. “Seriously? It hasn't even been 24 hours.”, you said while leaning against the doorframe before looking over at Steve. His eyes were scanning your form in your leggins and tight top with an impressed look. “I told you it's urgent.”, your best friend said while stepping inside. Steve followed after her like a puppy after its mother. The door closed back when you turned and followed after. “Robin, even if you could convince me, I couldn't marry him until like, a month from now.” Your tone was hushed while her eyes went wide. “A month?”, she asked. It made perfect sense, how was she so shocked? “Do you want to keep this on the down low or immediately have the court marshall on my ass?”

“He might not even have a month!”, she argued back. You sighted and let a hand run through your hair. “Robin, this would break so many military laws. I'm risking everything if I follow through. Besides, I can't even pretend like he's my boyfriend who I suddenly wanna marry after deployment.” Your best friend gave you a raised eyebrow, meanwhile Steve was just awkwardly standing in your living room. How did he get himself into this?

“Why? You were always a lover girl.”, she stated. Technically, that was true but your current pool of single men wasn't one for long-term relationships. “Because I fucked like, 3 guys on my deployment and my platoon sergeant.” This made it even worse for Steve. Just so…awkward.

Last time he saw you, you were a teenager with some pimples, glasses and nerdy interests. He put you down just for being yourself, and he felt so bad about it. And now? You were confident, had men lining up for you and looked beautiful. Realistically, there was no reason for you to agree. Not for your job, not for him, for nothing really.

“So, we make up a story. You cheated and felt so sorry that you married him to show your commitment.” But all you did was scoff. Was she serious? “I'm not making myself look like a cheater for some guy. Are you insane?” Maybe she was. This was Robin, after all. All of this felt surreal to you. How could you marry a guy who relentlessly bullied you? And ruin your reputation in the meantime? This kind of gossip would spread like wildfire. He was, even with his condition, just some guy.

“Please get out. Both of you.”

Your best friend tried starting a discussion again, but you dismissed her. “Leave. I'm not joking, please get out.” Eventually, they left and you laid down on your couch to reflect on what just happened.

They came back 2 days later. While you were annoyed, you let them inside. “Robin, it's still a fraud. I can lose my job and go to jail.”, you repeated. How could she not get it through her head? “I know, but please. I'm…we're begging you, he really, really, really, can't even afford to live. There's this whole thing with his parents, and-” Steve cut her off. This is the first time you heard him speak up since high school.

“Robin, it's fine. We'll figure something else out.” She tried to argue with him for a bit, but he was awfully quiet, eventually swayed and collapsed on the floor. “Steve!”, Robin yelled while running over. The thud you heard when his head hit your wooden floor was terrifying. That must hurt.

“Fucking hell Steve, where's your glucagon?!” Her yelling at him was useless, Steve was barely conscious. Your best friend went through all of his pockets until finding a small bag filled with syringes and vials. The one she pulled out was barely full…maybe barely enough to bring him back. “Take off his jacket.”, she instructed you. You didn't notice how much you were shaking until you saw your trembling hands taking off the brown coat he was wearing. Robin injected the glucagon and tries to keep him awake by talking to him; that everything is gonna be fine, he’ll be back up in no time, he’ll be okay. It took a good 20 minutes, but he came back to it.

Those 20 minutes were your personal hell. It was scary. This is what diabetes did? That's absolutely horrifying. And now, knowing that you could stop this, there was a feeling of guilt in your stomach. Well, was it guilt or did you just feel pity? Regardless, it hit you that you could fix this. Especially after seeing an almost-empty vial, that was most likely his last one his insurance covered.

Once he got up, you looked him in the eyes. His eyes were filled with fear; just as you expected. But the feeling in your stomach was back. The pity. The guilt. All of it. Steve looked like a scared little boy, nothing like King Steve who bullied you. You had to do something. You know you could.

“I'll do it.”, you said once Robin got him to sit on your couch. Steve could've fainted again on the spot, judging by the look on his face. Meanwhile, Robin looked at you with big eyes and a surprise look, before jumping up and falling into your arms. “Oh my god, thank you! I'll never be able to repay you for this, oh god! You're the best friend ever!” After a bit more praise and tight hugs, she let go breathlessly. “Alright, sit down before you pass out as well.” You turned to Steve with crossed arms. “We'll have to talk out conditions first, though. This is risky for both of us, but especially me.” He nodded quickly, still looking rather shocked. “Yes, anything you want. When do you, uhm…”

“Tomorrow, at 3. I'll make coffee, okay?”

And so it was. While you were making coffee and looking if you still had some cookies left in the cookie tin (they were all stale), the doorbell rang. Steve was awkwardly shuffling his feet while fiddling with his fingers.

“Come in.”, you greeted him with a neutral expression. Steve now took a closer look around your house before standing next to your kitchen island like he was dropped off and forgotten to be picked up. Meanwhile, you jumped onto your kitchen island and took a seat. Steve reluctantly poured himself some coffee, and then some for you.

“There's gonna be some ground rules if we do this.”, you said while crossing your legs. He quietly nodded, knowing he'd accept any condition you'd put out. Steve was desperately looking for help. There was nothing he wouldn't do at this point. “I get extra money for being married. Unless your car breaks down, or you need extra money for utilities, it's mine.” That seemed alright to him. “And I work 12 hour shifts, four days straight, then I get three days off. But I spend most of my free days at the gym for my job. You'll do the majority of the housework.” Isn't that basically an unpaid maid? Although, again, he'd do anything for proper insurance. “And most important is that you don't tell anyone. This deal stays between you, me and Robin. I'm ripping off the government, and if we get caught, I lose my job and we could both go to jail. Me for sure, you…I don't know.” Would he have to? That didn't matter; it can't happen. “We can't tell our parents, friends, nobody. It's gonna be a long game of pretending for a while, but when you get a promotion or something, you can look for new insurance. Then we'd hand in a divorce and you'd have insurance for another year. Plenty of time.” Steve very quickly caught up to how important this was. He didn't want himself or you going to jail, even if one might think he would based on your past together. But that wasn't him anymore. He became a decent guy, after all. Even if you didn't trust that whole thing yet, Robin trusted him. That should be enough for now.

“Nobody thinks we're in a relationship right now, so we'll be on their radar anyways. Might get called a shotgun wedding, but I'll smoke that out no problem.” You'd prove that you weren't pregnant easily, even if the higher ups asked. Besides, military couples get married quickly. That's not unheard of, although you never wanted to play into the stereotype. Not that you planned on getting married any time though; husbands aren't a concept in your world.

But there you were, setting down ground rules for a fraudulent marriage.

“So, I can make us an appointment at the courthouse quickly. We'll be taking pictures, so wear something reasonable. I'll throw on my uniform and call it a day.”

“My parents are gonna wanna meet you.”, he finally spoke up. Was that really his only condition? “Sure, we can do that. Although that makes our story much more unbelievable…or would a secret girlfriend be realistic?” Steve stayed quiet for a bit, head filled with thoughts. “It wouldn't be unimaginable.”, he finally said. Doesn't seem like he had the best relationship with them, and Robin saying something about the trouble with their insurance yesterday it kinda made sense.

“You don't owe them contact with you, Steve. I don't know what happened, but I can tell something isn't right.” He still didn't seem to wanna talk about it, so after some silence you kept talking. “We're gonna have to kiss in public. That's unavoidable. Cheeks and forehead are always okay with me, mouth…well, if the situation fits. Also, hand holding is kinda of a must. They'll have to believe we're head-over-heels in love, since this is a very…spontaneous wedding.” He just nodded, knowing that this would be harder than originally anticipated.

“And most importantly, Steve.” Your tone changed from serious to desperate. “I'm putting everything on the line. You'll have to lie to everyone. Friends, family, whoever you thought you can share anything with you'll have to feed lies to. I don't care if you forget to cook dinner sometimes, but this is the biggest rule. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

And so it was. A week after getting your marriage license, you were pulling up in front of Steve's house. While you decided to wear your uniform, Steve came out in a black suit with a white button-up. No complaints here, he looked like a groom. Or a makeshift groom, at least. He was carrying some paper in his hands when he sat down in the passenger seat.

“Good morning.”, he said in a rather quiet tone. This was getting to him just as much as it got to you. You were pacing around all night and day, ironing your uniform, crying your eyeballs out because the anxiety was eating you alive, just to go back to calming yourself by stuffing a pack of twinkies in your mouth. Despite feeling incredibly sick, you still got into your car and drove over.

“Mornin’”, you mumbled. “You ready?” Steve saw how your hands shaked on the steering wheel, and that you wiped them off on your pants. “Almost.”, he replied. You looked over with a raised eyebrow. “I got you something…sort of like a wedding gift.” That must've been the paper he was holding. You assumed it was just documents he needed for marrying you. But once you opened it, you found a letter inside.

Dear (Y/N),

Before we enter this stage of our lives together, I not only wanted to thank you, but show my deep remorse for our past.

I've been cruel and unfair to you, without taking any prior accountability for it or even apologising. I was a coward who picked on someone who never deserved it, and I have no excuse for it, maybe my own insecurities. I'll never expect for you to forgive me, but I need you to know that I deeply regret it. If I could turn back time and undo all of the things I did to you - I would.

And now, somehow, even after everything I put you through, you're still willing to help me. You're doing something for me that I truly don't think I deserve - something that could save my life. I don't know why you said yes to this, but please know that I am forever grateful. More than I could put into words.

You are a better person than I ever was. Then I ever will be. And I want you to know that I see that now. I see you.

Thank you, (y/n).

Not just for this, but for being the kind of person who would even consider this.

Yours, Steve.

You did your absolute best to hold back your emotions after reading through it. His words were beautiful, poetic, dripping with emotions. He got you at a loss for words and holding back tears while he remained quiet and started the car. Maybe it was rude, but you two did have an appointment at the courthouse.

Unlike the two of you, Robin was ecstatic to join the two of you. She went as far as to take her fourth-hand, barely working camcorder with her. Anything to make it look real, I guess. But walking up the stairs to the courthouse felt like a prisoner walking to his execution to you. Not because you don't want this, but because of the sheer risk. Regardless, before you knew it, you stood in front of the officiant.

“That's very kind of you, Steve.”, you finally said as he pulled out of the driveway. Robin was right when she said he changed for the better. King Steve would've told you to stop whining, but this wasn't King Steve. This was Steve Harrington; grateful, remorseful, reflective. “It's the bare minimum, really.”, he replied. Together, you drove to Robin's place to pick her up. Since she was the only one who's in on the deal, she was ought to be the witness. Nobody else knew. Not our parents, not our friends, no one.

“Sooo…”, you mumbled while standing in front of him in your living room. The ring on your finger still felt odd. “I guess we're married now.” Steve didn't know whether to laugh or not. “Sure are.”, he agreed. Both of you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Especially you, since your stress was at an all-time high. This was really real, no way of backing out of it anymore. What do you do now? There is no guide on a fraudulent marriage.

The speech was short. After all, this was just paperwork. One and done. Still, you held his hand the entire time and looked him in the eyes. The look of love on your face was fake, and so was his. Admittedly, he looked beautiful. Unfortunately, he has always been gorgeous. But did you have to feel this way right now?

"(y/n) (y/l/n), do you take Steve as your husband?"

"I do." There was no hesitation, not even for a second. There couldn't be.

"Steve Harrington, do you take (y/n) as your wife?"

"I do."

He didn't hesitate either. Good. Good act he put on.

"By the power invested in me by the great state of Indiana, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Steve cupped your face with one hand and leaned in. Again, no hesitation. Neither did you, kissing him back like you were head-over-heels in love with him. Not that you were, but the officiant couldn't know that.

Honest to God, you don't remember much from that day. Maybe you disassociated for most of it. At least that's what it looked like on Robin's tape. But you do remember going home with him. Alone. In your now shared house.

“Are you shaking because of your blood sugar, or are you nervous?” His hands were so shaky that not even his pockets could hide it. “Nervous.”, he replied. A sigh left your mouth. “Yeah…me too…” You started pacing up-and-down the living room a bit, before stopping in front of him unintentionally. Both of you stared deeply into each other's eyes, and something snapped inside of you. Like rabid animals, you started a heavy makeout session. While tangled into each other's limbs, you two plopped onto the couch. He groaned when you took a seat on his lap and moved your hips against his crotch.

Without even loving each other, you still shared a wedding night. One that was purely intended to let off steam, but regardless something to remember.

When you woke up in your bed the next morning and saw him next to you, panic rose up. “Fuck…”, you hissed while standing up. It took you a whopping 10 seconds to grab clothes to throw on, not wanting him to see you naked. It didn't even phase him, but you'd eventually have to get him up. You still wanted to sleep in, but getting something to eat was more important right now. Eating wasn't a priority in yesterday's hassle.

Steve woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon in the house. When he walked downstairs, he saw you eating in the kitchen while going through a load of paperwork. “Good morning.”, he said, trying to avoid your gaze. You stayed quiet and pointed at a plate standing on the counter. “Thanks.” The tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife, although it wasn't the good kind. It was clear you didn't want to talk about last night while he was trying not to make a big deal out of it. “I'm gonna get my stuff from my apartment in like an hour.”, Steve said, trying to start a conversation. But all he got was a “Mhm.” from you. With a sigh, he put his plate down and leaned against the counter.

“Last night can't be undone by not talking to me.” You looked up from the papers in front of you with a sour expression. “It's just…weird, okay? We got married and moved in together yesterday, then we had…you know…I don't know what to make of it.” While he understood what you were saying, he wished you would've told him without ignoring him. “That's alright. Won't be around you for most of day anyways, so you can have some time for yourself.” His gaze went to the paperwork in front of you. Okay, maybe not alone-time in the sense you might need. “It's your tricare application. Since you'll be added now.” The pen you were holding softly tipped against the paper. “Well, not an application. More your info.” You read over the words again and let out a groan. “Nevermind. Did it wrong…I'll go back to bed.”

The two of you didn't see each other until the late evening. He was busy moving things around, cleaning his old apartment and getting settled in with the help of his friend Eddie while you were doing…actually, he didn't know what you were up to. But you did leave at some point to get him and Eddie takeout.

“For the hard work.”, you told them with a smile. Eddie happily took the food from your hand, saying how he was near starving already and then plopped down on the couch with Steve.

This was the first challenge. Acting like a married couple, because Eddie didn't know. So you sat down with them. “How's it coming along?”, you asked them with a small smile. Steve swallowed his food quickly while coming up with an answer. “Good. Just gotta put my clothes in the bedroom.” Right. How could you forget? And how could you forget to make space for him? With so much on the line? “I cleared out the right side for you.”, you lied. “Actually, I think I forgot my socks in one drawer. I'll put them away quickly.”

While both were sitting downstairs, you did a speedrun in reorganising your entire dresser. The fact that as much as clothes could expose all your lies made the entire situation so much clearer to you, how risky it was, how you couldn't trust anyone no matter how nice Eddie seems.

Why did you do this to yourself?

20 minutes later, everything was crammed into the right side. With as many clothes as you had, it was hard to really fit everything in there. You'll have to get something else for your things in the next few days, or one for Steve.

“Honey, do you mind a trip to Williams-Sonoma this week?”, you asked your fake-husband when he came up with his best friend. Both were carrying a box each in, and Eddie took a look around. It looked all like you and none like Steve. “I may have more clothes than expected, we can get you your own dresser.” With a huff, both put the boxes down. Steve gave you a kiss on the cheek and a smile. “Sounds good. We have all week anyways, no?”

“This place needs the Harrington makeover anyways.”, Eddie joked with a small grin. The both of you chuckled at his words. “True, true. Although the collection of basketball tees already gives a certain touch.” Both Eddie and Steve laughed a bit at those words. All of the basketball merchandise was scattered around your living room, hallway and even the kitchen. “I assumed the bedroom too, no?” You tapped one of the boxes with your foot while grinning. “Just a bit. I know how much you love the decor here.” In your entire house, actually, but you couldn't say that. “How considerate.”, you giggled before giving him a small kiss on the lips. This still felt weird. Not wrong, just…odd.

“I'll let you two be. Gotta see where to put all my medals now.” That wasn't a lie, they were on the wall of your living room but since some of Steve's framed and signed basketball tees now moved in, it didn't feel like the right space for it. Maybe they could go in the hallway next to the family pictures and your portraits. Together with your new wedding pictures that will be arriving soon. “Can't wait to see it.”, Steve said.

It didn't take long for you to find the right place for all your belongings. Actually, it took such a short amount of time that you were sitting on the couch and watching Home Improvement by the time the two finished upstairs. “Getting ready for tomorrow, aren't we?”, Steve teased the second he came into the living room. Unfortunately, he was naturally funny and your chuckle was real. “Well, if we're going we might as well get some other things. This couch is like…god, it was here when I moved in.” Eddie seemed absolutely smittened by the act you two put up. What a successful day. “You've got any wives left for me at the army?”, he joked while putting on his shoes. He, too, was naturally funny. “Maybe husbands, they're quite charming and desperate.” It made both of them laugh. “I'll take anyone, honestly.”, Eddie replied. That seemed like a clear enough answer. “Sure, I'll set you up. Hope to see you again, it was nice meeting you!” Steve's friend left, leaving you two alone in your shared house.

“I hate to admit that you're funny.”, you said once he came back from the front door. “Yeah?”, Steve chuckled. “Well then, it's only fair if I entertain you.” The initial awkwardness faded as you two sat on the couch and just talked. Not as lovers, but as friend. Maybe Steve Harrington could be your friend after all. Just a friend. Despite laughing and talking for hours, he still slept on the couch.

You two went to get him his insurance at base first thing in the morning. It was a rather quick process, considering you collected all the information first. As the deal promised, he got his dependent insurance card. Steve was safe. He'll be okay. And once back in the car, he couldn't stop staring at the card in his wallet. That was quite literally his lifeline. The thing that would save him, all inside this little piece of plastic. “Thank you.”, he mumbled with a shaky voice. It was easy to hear that he was holding back tears. “You're welcome. Mind paying for some coffee before Williams-Sonoma?” It made him laugh, and after a small sniffle he nodded. “Sure. Anything. I'll even get you a cookie.”

“A cookie? Oh, you're spoiling me, Mr. Harrington.” With laughter filling the car, you two drove off to buy new furniture.

A few hundred dollars later, some coffee and a spontaneous trip to TJMaxx for some home decor and candles, you two were setting everything up. Honestly, you didn't mind the whole home makeover until Steve started feeling unwell.

“I've got it. Don't overwork yourself.” He groaned while watching you push furniture around. As much as he was impressed by your physical strength, he hated the thought of not being helpful. “Stop pouting, Harrington. See, I can manage.” You flexed your upper arms, showing off your muscles in the process. He couldn't help but stare. Where did you hide these? “Should I be ashamed that your arms are bigger than mine?” You giggled and sat down next to him. This really started feeling like a friendship, or maybe it was one already. It sure felt like one. “You can join me for my workout. Although it may be a bit advanced for you.” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Probably. I'm not exactly army-level sporty.”

Like last night, you two spend hours talking, eventually cranking open a bottle of wine and ordering pizza. So much for Steve will cook. But it didn't matter, because you were actually having a great time with him. Plus, the new couch felt so comfortable.

Faking a relationship really won't be that hard if you two are friends.

A week after getting married, you had to go back to work. So did Steve, but he admitted that being a technician at a radio station wasn't as hard as being in the army. Except you had a little side quest that day: Find Eddie the date you promised you'd set him up with. While nobody was openly into men, you knew your people. Especially your work best friend, Sean.

“Look who's back from their honeymoon.”, he said with a grin the second he laid his eyes on you. The two of you shared a hug before he asked how it was, what you did, and whatnot. When you asked him if he'd like to spend his smoke break with you, Sean agreed and went out to his car with you after telling him you'd like a word.

“So, what's going on?”, he asked while taking a cigarette from his pack.

“My husband has a friend, and I don't know if he was joking or not, but he was asking me to set him up with someone.” The smoke left Sean's mouth slowly, but he didn't seem opposed. “He? Like, a man?” You nodded slowly, trying to read his expression. He took a long drag from his cigarette again, and finally gave you a reply. “Tell me ‘bout him.”

“His name's Eddie, he's exactly your age, uhm…Steve told me he's in a band with some high school friends. Really into metal, Dungeons and Dragons, and uuh…he runs the record store in Hawkins. I think that's all I know.” In all fairness, Sean seemed more than interested. The smirk on his lips was undeniable; he saw him before. “Give him my number. I'll go from there.”

So that was that. Life went on, Sean went out with Eddie, Robin came over at least once a week while you kept on living your lie. At least you and Steve were friends at this point. He always had an open ear for you, tried his best to help in any way, cooked, cleaned, looked after you. At first he did it out of kindness and for being grateful, but after a month his feelings for you started to shift. Every “Thank you for dinner.”, and every “I got you some snacks on the way home.” made his heart skip a beat. His kisses in public were real. Putting his hand on your hips was real. Every touch, every word of affection, it all became real.

And you?

This was nothing more than a friendship to you. You swore it would never be more than a friendship, and you kept it. But no matter how bad Steve wanted to tell you, he couldn't. His life was quite literally on the line. He couldn't make it awkward or uncomfortable for you. Suffering with this in silence is the best option, until he gets over it.

Robin, Eddie and Sean were coming over for lunch that particular day. Your amazing match-making skills worked out, Sean and Eddie were boyfriends, although secret ones since his job would be on the line. Neither cared, they just seemed way too happy. Plus, they and Robin could be themselves at your place.

Steve was making Salmon Pasta while you set up the dinner table. Once done, he already handed you a glass of your favourite white wine. “You know me so well.”, you said with a grin while taking it from his hands. “I'd argue I'm fairly acquainted with your habits and favourites by now.” It honestly made you feel bad. How much did you know about him besides his favourite basketball team? He was always cooking food that you liked, buying drinks you enjoyed, watching shows you loved. Maybe he was slowly losing himself in his feeling of owing you something. “You mind if I cook tomorrow? Anything you want, it's my day off.” You may be in for a very simple pasta dish or some eloquent food with caviar and truffle. Unfortunately, you wouldn't know. Maybe Robin could help. “Can you even cook?”, he joked. “I don't mind playing housewife, but you were adamant about me doing the housework.” It honestly made you laugh. “I can cook! I'm just always tired after work.”

“Alright, Commando, whatever you say.” You playfully slapped his shoulder at the nickname. This small gesture set fireworks off inside him, while you only found it amusing.

It was a great night. You've never seen Sean this happy, and from what Steve told you neither did Eddie. Robin told you Steve's favourite meal was burgers and fries, so you went out and bought everything the next day. He was surprised to see everything spread out on the kitchen counter as you were frying, baking and cutting the ingredients. “How did you know that's my favourite?”, he asked while leaning against the doorframe. It would be embarrassing to tell him you had to ask your best friend about it. “You told me.” To him, that was the highest honour. “And there's Budweiser in the fridge. I kinda assumed what beer you'd like, honestly.” No you didn't, Robin told you. But he didn't have to know that. “Are you a psychic? I love those.” Happily, he went over to the fridge to grab a beer. This truly made you happy. After all, he did so much for you without complaining once. “Food should be done in maybe 30 minutes. You wanna shower in the meantime?”

“Your spoiling me, Commando.”, he said with a grin. The butterflies in his stomach were going absolutely insane, while you were blissfully unaware of his feelings, and just happy to take some work off of him for once.

“Hey, uhm, Steve?”, you mumbled while entering the kitchen. He was standing in front of the stove and cooking some pasta before peeking up his head. “I don't like that tone.” His words only made you sigh. “So, I was at work today and they need me to go back to Iraq…just for a month or so, though.” That confused him, you said the general rule of thumb was to stay home for about as long as you were deployed. How could they make you leave again after being home for just 3 months?

“I can't really stop you, can I?” He tried his best to joke, but there was concern and a hint of fear on your face. “It's not like I can say no.”, you mumbled. Steve turned down the stove and strained the pasta before watching you walk over to a chair standing at the kitchen counter. There was a small slouch in your form.

“Talk to me, what's going on?”, he asked while throwing the hand towel over his shoulder. A sigh left your mouth while you tried finding the right words. “It's just…I mean…you know how…” Your faux husband wasn't used to you stuttering, or even being short of words to find.

“Scary?”

“Yes, very.”, you admitted, grateful for him saying what's unspeakable to you. “Every time.” Steve went over to the fridge to grab your favourite soda while you sat there, head between your palms and thinking about what was to come. “Only one month feels…odd. Like it's a real risk. I don't know.”

“But there's always a risk, no? This one's just…shorter.” Unfortunately, Steve was right. The risk of injury or worse was always there.

“You're right. There's just this pit in my stomach…but maybe I'm just scared of getting caught.” That seemed logical to the both of you. While out in the field, there was a greater risk. Especially if you wouldn't call or write letters. “They just cranked all this up a lot, oh god.” You let your hands run over your face, followed by a deep sigh. Steve just kind of…stood there. What is he supposed to say to consult you? Realistically, there was nothing. He didn't know anything about army life, yet how to calm down someone who was awaiting deployment.

“Do you…wanna go talk to Robin? I don't, uhm…” Right, how was he supposed to react? It's not like he could relate, or be too sad you won't be home. Your marriage was fake; no loving husband, let alone kids, to come home to.

“Yeah, I guess. I'll give her a ring.” You walked away and went over to the landline attached to the wall. Meanwhile, he added an extra handful of pasta to the pot and looked for a bottle of wine in the pantry. Robin was gonna come over, so he'd rather be prepared than have Robin raid the pantry.

He left you two alone in the living room once she came over. Your crying and upset tone was clear, and he didn't want to invade such a private moment. Meanwhile, he sat in the kitchen, occasionally doing the dishes or handing Robin another bottle of red wine. She did eventually raid the pantry, with the words “She needs some chocolate.” In her defense, those always helped when one isn't feeling well.

It was Robin who got you into bed, and Steve had to drive her home since she was winedrunk. He fell asleep on the couch, alone, and worried for you.

A week later, it was time for you to leave once again. You were tying your shoelaces while Steve grabbed his keys and put on his jacket. The silence was loud as you put your bag on your back and placed your hat on your head. This wasn't only the day of deployment, but also the day you and Steve would have to put on the ultimate act and have everyone believe how in love the both of you were. You couldn't even be nervous by yourself.

“Alright, I'm ready.”, you told Steve. He simply nodded and opened the door for you. The walk to his car felt odd, not how it usually felt when you two went to Target, or decided to get three more pillows at TJMaxx. “It's gonna be fine.”, he tried to assure you, but you simply sighted and looked out of the window. Sure, everything will be fine.

The hassle near the busses was overwhelming for Steve. Crying children, couples not wanting to let go, so many kisses and goodbyes. He'll have to do the same, he can't let you down. Steve held your hand as he walked over to your bus with you. “Congratulations.”, one of your higher-ups told the two of you while passing by. Both of you gave a simple smile and “Thank you.”

Both of you shared a tight hug. Even though you didn't have any feelings for him, you needed this. It gave you comfort, reassurance, that everything was gonna be okay. It will be. You'll come home.

“Remember, you're my next of kin now.”, you reminded him once he let go. “If anything happens, call my parents and Robin.” He nodded vigorously. “And we can send e-mails, and I can call you sometimes. You won't be all alone.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he noticed the family standing next to the both of you. “Reach out as soon as you can, okay? Promise?” You nodded before slowlu leaning in for a kiss. This was your first longer kiss since the wedding, but Steve pulled it off well. So did you. It seemed like everyone believed it.

“Oh and.”, you started once the two of you broke the kiss. “Feel free to invite the kids over whenever. Just have them take their shoes off, I like our carpet.” It made him chuckle, knowing that this was not an act. You obsessively loved your baby blue carpet. “It'll be even cleaner when you come back. Promise.” You chuckled and leaned in for another kiss. Just like a real couple, Steve thought. And then, it was time for you to get inside the bus. Sean walked by and said goodbye to Steve as well, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before boarding the bus himself.

Just as you sat down at a window seat with Sean next to you, you hear a “One last time for the newly weds!” from outside. You watched two of your colleagues pick up Steve on their shoulders, having him sit there. God, he looked scared. You opened the upper part of the window to stick your head out and face him. “Sorry.”, you mumbled with a slight chuckle. It was rather amusing. But then, you two kissed once again, followed by cheering of your colleagues and their families.

“Alright, that's enough.”, your platoon sergeant said in a gruff tone. Steve was put down on the ground again, and he waved at you one last time until the bus disappeared around the corner.

A few days passed, he checked his e-mail account every day. Eventually, there was one from you

My sweet husband,

I hope you're holding up well and don't feel lonely at home. We haven't been living together for too long before I had to leave again, so maybe it won't be too bad for you.

For my own part, I miss you a lot. I've gotten so used to falling asleep in your arms that I now find it hard to do so by myself. Especially out here, where everything is so different, I miss the comfort and safety you give me. Living with you were the best 3 months of my life so far, although that might change once we gave kids. By the way, did we ever talk about baby names? I think Valentine and Jade are adorable.

Please make sure my plants are still alive by the time we return. I love you so much, and can't wait to fall asleep in your arms again. And, since you asked before I left: Yes, it is very hot here.

Your wife,

(y/n)

My darling wife,

of course I'll be taking care of your plants until you're back. The orchids are thriving, and always remind me of your beautiful face. Looking after them is helping me pass the time, and I'd never let you down by letting them perish.

Even though we only lived together for a short period of time before you had to leave, it's still hard. Just your presence alone has more of an impact on me than I think you know. Without you, this house isn't a home. I miss seeing you dance in the kitchen, your boots in the hallway, or how you always leave your hairbrush out in the bathroom. Robin got me a calendar to mark off the days until you're back with me, but not having you next to me makes even a minute feel like forever. I can't wait to have you back home with me.

You're right, we never talked about baby names. I think Valentine and Jade are beautiful names. Although, may I suggest Ellie for a girl? It's hard to come up with one for a boy if all I can think about is our future baby having your eyes and smile.

I love you, and I can't wait to hold you again at night.

Your husband,

Steve

He was so smooth with it. With the way this was going, there'd be no way anyone would suspect a thing. Plus, the anxiety of constantly being watched was driving you insane.

Eventually, it was time to call each other. Just to make it more believable, but it would be nice to get news from home in real-time. With a small sigh, you picked up the phone and dialed your landline number.

“Hey honey.”, you hear him chime from the other side of the line. It was odd to have him call you that. That might never change, though. “Hey babe. Can you hear me?” Knowing that both of you are watched, this would have to be as realistic as possible. Although the e-mails were perfect already. But it didn't help much with the odd feeling in Steve's stomach. “Loud and clear, commando.” You giggled at his nickname - this was an actual giggle, because you thought this one was a bit funny. “Still trying to be funny, huh?” There was a chuckle from the other end of the phone. “Always. It's one of my jobs to make you laugh, no?” He was good at this, too good. Maybe even better than you.

Steve wasn't acting anymore, though. Being away from you for so long made his heart ache, and crave just being in your presence.

“One amongst many others.”, you giggled. “How are you holding up?” A few seconds of silence were followed with a “I don't know. Not good. I miss you.” His words were the truth, but you didn't know. To you, he was acting. “I miss you too. But I'll be back before you know it.” Only 20 more days. Then this would all be over, and you'd be back home. As you looked over, you could see Sean trying to conceal his grin while holding a telephone to his ear. He was definitely calling Eddie, and it made you smile.

“Robin may or may not have a Welcome Back party planned. Well, I helped but it was her idea.” You giggled at that. “Are you spoiling my surprise?” Now he chuckled as well. “I said maybe. Plus, I know you don't like big parties. So be warned.” How did he remember? You only mentioned it once. “I'll act surprised. Can't blow your cover, no?” Both of you laughed.

Another week passed. Steve hasn't heard from you in a week, and while he was also worried, he assumed you've gotten busy. He was following the news about what was happening in Iraq, and it looked anything short of easy.

To distract himself, he invited the kids over. It was supposed to be a chill movie night with Dustin, Max and Lucas. And it was for two hours. They got their snacks, ordered pizza, argued over which movie to watch and eventually crashed on the couch to watch said movie.

But then, his phone rang. Who'd call at this hour? Oh wait, what if…

“Hold on, I gotta take this.” Steve looked down at his Nokia with furrowed brows. What was that number? It wasn’t even from the US. Reluctantly and with a pit in his stomach, he got up and walked into the other room.

“Hello?”, he asked.

“Yes, is this Steve Harrington?”, an unknown male voice on the other end of the line asked him. “Yeah.”, Steve mumbled. What was this about?

“This is Corporal Marshall. I'm calling to inform you that your wife has been wounded in combat.” He felt his blood run cold and a shiver creep up his spine at those words. All he could ask was “Is she alive?” Luckily, there was no silence on the other end. “Yes sir, she's alive. Both her legs have been broken. They flew her back to Germany to stabilise her for transport. She's in the process of being flown over to Indianapolis for surgery.” Thank God, you're alive. That's all that mattered for now. Although the fact of both your legs being broken didn't help much. “When will she be here?”, he continued. The corporal gave him exact landing times, how long surgery would take and whatnot. All that mattered is that he knew when you'd be here again.

Once hung up, he realised he'd have to tell your parents. And Robin. Oh God, they'll be so terrified and scared. But you were alive. This could've been a much worse outcome.

Right?

What they told him at the hospital wasn't good, though. “A bomb exploded near her. The rubble hit her lower body. We could find two fractures in her legs. One in her left femur, and one in her right shin bone. She also fractured her hip, and we don't know how severe it is yet. There's some burns and gashes, but those aren't our main concern. We will let you know after surgery.” The infodump overwhelmed him greatly. He'd have to repeat all of this back to you. Explain why you'd be sitting in a wheelchair for months.

“That sounds like a lot of physio and medication.”, he mumbled. The doctor simply nodded. “Both will be vital to her recovery. That is if she can ever walk again, but the first prognosis was good.” If you can walk again? He hasn't known you very long, but he knew how much you loved your independence. This would crush your entire world.

Both your parents and Robin rushed down the hospital hallway to see you. It calmed them down greatly when they didn't see him cry. Your parents thought this was a love marriage, so to them his emotions were crucial. But it didn't help Robin much. “What happened? Is she okay? Where is she?” Steve has to hug her in order for your best friend to not have a nervous breakdown. “She'll be fine. Still alive, and kicking it in surgery.” It calmed her down a bit, but Robin was an anxious person after all. “Deep breaths, come on. You'll both be fine.” She was so scared that you'd die up until this very moment that she kinda forgot how to breathe. “I'll get a coffee with her. She needs some time.”, Steve told your parents. They gave him an understanding nod, and off he went.

“I was so scared, Steve.” She was quiet until the two of them sat down, him with a coffee and her with a hot chocolate. Although those being her first words were expected. “I thought she died, but this might even be worse for her than death.” One thing Steve knew about you from the start was that you loved being independent. You also loved your job, and both these things require working legs. “There's a chance she can walk again.” It wasn't exactly a working attempt of calming her down, Robin tends to get in her head about everything. “And the chances are good. The doctor told me.” He could see Robins trembling hands while taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“Won't she be in a wheelchair? She's gonna hate that…” For once, she wasn't hyper. Well, she wasn't calm either, but at least she wasn't physically freaking out. Alas, none of Steve's attempts to calm her worked out. There would be no way of consulting her until you woke up right in front of her eyes.

Robin watched over you like a hawk as soon as she was able to enter your room. Seeing you hooked up to this many machines, hearing the beeping of your heart and watching your vitals on the monitor, it was horrifying. It was scary. Even more to her than your parents. Eventually, your eyes fluttered open.

“Oh my god, you're alive.”, Robin choked out when she saw you wake up. Your vision was blurry, and your head was spinning as you tried to grasp what was happening. Did you die? You were in combat just a minute ago. How did you end up here? Why couldn't you feel anything from the waist down? Your mouth was so fucking dry, too.

Once you were able to see just a little bit, you saw your parents, Robin and Steve by your bedside. God, so many people. You felt claustrophobic like this. “Go.” All four shared a confused look when they heard you mumble. But you swatting sloppily in your parents and Robins direction was enough. Steve was your first of kin, he'd know the most about what happened.

Once the room was empty, you felt like you could somewhat breathe again. Although this was awkward for Steve. He'd lived with you for barely 3 months before you had to ship out again. How well could you know a person to tell them that their hip and legs were broken?

“Just be honest, Steve.”, you mumbled after seeing his face. There was someone seriously wrong with you, it would explain why you couldn't feel your legs. He took a deep breath in, trying to find the right words. “I didn't understand what really happened. There was an explosion, and some things hit you. Your…left femur is broken, and your right shin bone shattered. Your hip is fractured, and…some burns, and gashes. Anything from the waist down, really.”

“Well, that's inconvenient.”, you mumbled. How was he supposed to react to that? Of course multiple bone fractures are inconvenient. What happened to his original fear of this crushing your world? “Surgery done?” He nodded his head. “Yeah. Your bones are fixed up, and they did a skin graft. The doctors said you might need a follow-up surgery, but they're gonna check and see once you heal a bit.” A growl left your lips as you leaned back into your pillow. This will greatly impact the entire course of your life from now. Will you ever be able to walk again? Work? Run? Have a normal life?

“I don't know if it matters much, I don't understand it a lot, but they said you'll get a purple heart.” You scoffed at his statement, and Steve felt like he said something wrong. “No, no, it's not you. It's…well, a purple heart is a medal you get when you get hurt in combat. Chest candy, really.” To someone outside of the army, that sounded badass. Everyone would know how much of a badass you are just by seeing you in uniform.

But he wouldn't understand the pit in your stomach. How bad it feels that your uniform will be a constant reminder of the pain, the physical therapy, all the treatments and surgery that could go on for months, or even years. “First official army husband appearance for you then. It's a whole thing…I’ll explain later.” Your eyes wandered off to the window on your right. How much you wished to be out there again. But instead, you were hooked to multiple machines while being pumped full of morphine.

“Steve.” Your tone was hushed. “This means this whole thing will get a lot more…intense.” He just gave you a questioning look, although it didn't take him too long to figure out what you were saying. “You'll have to be the doting husband who loves his wife so much, and whatever. But I'll also need help at home for a while, so…yeah.” The two of you got along well before you deployed, but this? Having him shower you? Dress you? That's a whole other thing, and even more intimate than the single night you two spend together. “We can't let anyone know, we just can't risk it. Okay?” He simply nodded at your request. Steve didn't want this to be discovered either. Not only because he wouldn't have health insurance anymore, but also because you just couldn't lose your job over him. You made it very clear how much you loved your job, as exhausting as it can be at times.

“I won't let you down.”, he promised. “But I'll get the others back in. They'll wanna talk to you.” Robin was probably clawing at the door, waiting to see you again. “That's fine. But remember to stay, or at least talk to my doctors.”

Robin was the first to rush back to your side, asking about a million questions as to how you're feeling, if anything hurts or if she could get you any food. “Robin, please. I'll be fine. You know I'm a kickass.” The joke only worked a tiny bit at calming her down. At least you still had your sense of humor.

You had to stay in the hospital for a few days to recover from surgery. Steve made sure to bring you everything you needed and more. Besides your favourite blanket, pillows and childhood stuffed animal, he also got your favourite snacks, drinks and enough entertainment to last you a while. “At least I'll finally get around to reading.”, you commented as he gave you a brand-new copy of The Sun Dog and Letters From Hell. “Yeah, you always seemed too busy for it. I thought you'd like to catch up.” While both books were new, you bought them when they came out. There was just no time to read them. “That's very thoughtful, thank you.” You gave him a smile and put both books on your nightstand. “Also, some sprite and starbursts for you.” He was really sweet to you ever since the incident, more than a faux husband would have to be. You blamed it on him feeling like he owes you for his medical insurance, but he also grew on you since the wedding. Yes, it was for convenience, but you've also become somewhat of friends before you got deployed again. He's probably doing this for any friend who needs it…right?

“You're doing too much.”, you chuckled while taking the sweets out of his hands. He shrugged his shoulders and continued digging in the duffle bag. “I brought this cause…well, you know.” Steve placed a framed picture of the two of you onto your nightstand. After that, also one of you and your parents and one with Robin. “Oh, the Robin one is my favourite.”, you giggled in an attempt to distract. He picked up on it quickly and looked at the graduation photograph of the two of you. “She told me to bring it, apparently it's her favourite as well.” In fact, Robin gifted it to you. She didn't have the biggest fund in the world, but she always made it work. “Yeah. We look great in it, too.” As a last picture, he placed one of you and Sean. It made you smile, but also wonder how he was holding up in the desert.

“You think Eddie could tell me how he's doing?”, you asked Steve. He knitted his brows slightly, then opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Why was he doing that? Why were there no words coming out of his mouth? “Steve?”

“I…I thought…uhm…” Why was he stuttering? “I thought someone told you…” You sat up straight in your bed, despite the agonising pain that brought you, and looked him directly in his eyes. “Told me what?” This turned him into a stuttering mess, but he eventually found his words while looking down at his hands.

“Sean was there with you during the explosion. He…he didn't make it, (y/n)”

It felt like the weight of the entire world just dropped onto you. He was right by your side since you first came to base. Showed you the ropes. Took you under his wing. Now, he's gone.

Forever.

You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face until Steve handed you a tissue. There was no way you could feel anything, not even sadness. There was just emptiness. As much as you wanted to run away, but your broken legs made it impossible to. You were stuck with this grief monster. “I…I need some time to myself…”, you choked out. Steve simply nodded and left your hospital room.

Besides doctors and nurses checking in on you, you were alone for the remainder of the day. Nothing was fun, or distracted you. No books, no snacks, no favourite pillows. Nothing.

Until Steve was back, with two Happy Meals in hand. “Robin said that would comfort you.” And he was right. Every time you or Robin were going through a hard time, you got a Happy Meal. It gave you childhood nostalgia and reminded you of better times. “Thank you.”, you said while sitting up somehow. Steve was immediately by your side and helped you. He truly became a kind person. In an attempt to distract yourself, you asked “What was your favourite Happy Meal toy as a kid?” But he looked a bit confused. “I never had one before.”, he simply stated. “A toy?” You gave him a confused look while opening your box. Just as you liked it, there was fries, a cheeseburger, orange juice and sliced apples, along with a plastic bag containing a dinosaur toy. “You never had a Happy Meal?”, you asked in disbelief. Steve simply shook his head no. “My parents said it's poor people food, so I never had any.”

“Raised on truffles and caviar, huh?”, you joked while watching him open his box. The joy on his face could be described as that of a child. Somewhere deep inside of Steve, there was still a little boy who just had a wish become true. And he looked even more excited when he took out the small plastic dinosaur. “Hey, you have a triceratops! That's my favourite!” You showed him the velociraptor from your Happy Meal. “That's my favourite!”, Steve said with a chuckle. Without having to say anything, you traded your dinosaurs. And for just a few minutes, you two weren't a fraudulent couple ripping off the state while you were in hospital for severe leg injuries. You two were little kids, exchanging their toys and eating a cheeseburger. Both of your inner children healed a bit that day.

Eventually, you could go back home. Well, going might be exaggerated. You went home in a wheelchair, pushed by Steve while you had your belongings in a bag on your lap. While you were glad to go home and not stare at the sterile, white wall all day, it was still weird. “I'll carry you wherever you have to go.”, Steve promised in the car. “Seriously, whatever you need help with, I'll be there.

He was serious. When you told him you'd rather lay down and calm from the high your painkillers gave you in your own bed, he carried you upstairs like a princess. He brought you food, water, VHS, anything you asked for.

Two days later, you started feeling filthy. Admittedly, you only did basic washing with a washcloth and haven't put on a different outfit since you came back, besides your underwear. But that already put you in pain while putting them on. You needed help getting dressed.

“Steve?”, you yelled from your bedroom. It didn't take him long to run up the stairs and stand in your doorframe. “What is it?”, he asked. His worried look relaxed when he saw you with just some clothes in your hands. “I, uhm…need help putting on pants…it's kinda, well…” He gave you a soft smile. lifted you out of your wheelchair and onto your bed. It would make it much easier. “I hope this is okay…I don't want you to think I'm gawking.” You only chuckled and handed him your sweatpants. “You saw it already, I don't care. I just wanna put on some fresh clothes.”

It humoured you how Steve tried his best to look away while pulling down your old underwear and getting you into new ones. He wasn't this shy when he buried his face between your thighs on your wedding night. “It's okay to look.”, you reminded him again, but it was to no avail. He even looked a little awkward when he touched your butt while pulling up your underwear. “Are they on?” You chuckled at that question. “Very much.” Finally, he looked at you again before getting your sweatpants on. This time, he looked at what he was doing. “Thank you.”, you said once all set, done and back in your wheelchair.

This became somewhat of a routine over the next few days. Eventually, the day came where you were to be handed your new medal. Chest candy, as you called it. He's going to have to get used to the military lingo.

It felt a bit weird, for the both of you, to get you back into your army service uniform. You wore it on your wedding day, but it felt different to see you in it now. It was weird when you were in a wheelchair. He could tell that you felt the same way, based on your disdained face. “It'll be over faster than you'd think.”, he said in an attempt to make you feel better. “And we can get anything you wanna eat after.” That didn't seem to help either, though. He didn't know you enough to tell what would and wouldn't cheer you up. This definitely didn't.

You were embarrassed like this. In uniform, about to see so many higher-ups that were in combat, that came home with minimal injuries, earned medals, are heroes. And you get taken out by a building. Some rubble. How pathetic.

“I'll get you to the car, come on.” It was even more embarrassing that he had to carry you downstairs and into the car. All while in uniform. How humiliating.

While Steve was getting your wheelchair into the back of his car, you quietly sat in the passenger seat and fiddled with your fingers. Ever since coming home from the hospital, this was the first time Steve had to drive you somewhere. You missed driving, or more so using your legs to do anything.

You don't remember much from the ceremony. What you remembered was that Steve helped you on stage, how you shook someones hand and got a pin to your chest. Physically you attended, but not mentally. You didn't want this. Nobody wants a purple heart. Yet you smiled for the camera, to fake how proud you were. There was nothing to be proud of.

You mentally checked back in when Steve went through the McDonalds drive-through and placed a Happy Meal on your lap. A Muppet Baby smiled at you from a small slit in the bag. “Thank you.”, you mumbled. He had you eat it on your way back.

“I'm really exhausted.”, you sighed as Steve helped you get inside the house. He thought of a few ways to help you, but most were likely just from the distress of the whole situation. “Do you wanna take a bath?”, he asked. You thought about his suggestions for a whole, knowing it would include him stripping you naked and having to help wash you. Basically being by your side, your nude body, all the time. This felt so different than just being dressed by him. He could look away while pulling up your underwear, but not this time.

“Sure.”, you decided. It's not like he never saw you naked. There was a wedding night, after all. Or at least something like that. Steve picked you up from your wheelchair and carried you upstairs into your bathroom. The bathtub was big, giving enough space for two people, and there was a collection of bath salts standing right by it. He never got to see your bathroom until now, since he used the one downstairs. The shower was enough for him. Steve sat you down on the closed toilet while getting the bath ready for you. He carefully chose the bath salts for you, lavender for relaxation and a mix of herbs for your muscles. Just by carrying you he could feel how tense you were.

He was awkward while taking your clothes off and putting you in the warm water, but this time he couldn't look away. Unfortunately, it was hard not to stare. You were just too beautiful. But this wasn't about his feelings, this was about doing what would make you feel better, and if that was a warm bath he'd be damned if he made it uncomfortable for you. “Thank you, Steve.”, you mumbled after he set you in and you got comfortable. Letting your legs float in the water was the best thing imaginable right now. “Call me if you need anything.” But you didn't want him to leave. Why?

“Can you stay?” He stopped deaf in his tracks at your words and slowly turned back around. It was almost like in a movie. “Are…are you sure?”, he stuttered. As a reply, you patted the edge of the bathtub. You were sure. “If we had some wine now, we could almost call this a date.” Neither of you expected this to come out of your mouth, yet it did. So you just gave him a wide-eyed look, like a deer stuck in headlights. “I…I mean, I…uh…”

“You shouldn't be drinking, you know that.”, Steve reminded you. Thank God he redirected the conversation. “Maybe we can find some alcohol free ones.”, you replied with a smirk while leaning back. He just chuckled. “I think we eventually need to talk about how much wine you consume.”, Steve joked. As a reply, you slapped a few droplets of water on his leg. He gave you an offended look, but remained seated. “Okay, rude.”, he said with laughter laced in his voice. “If you're this mean before, how will you be after physio?” Even though he mentioned your inability to walk, you didn't mind in this context. It was funny. “I can take you down with my pinky, that's for sure.” Now it was his turn to laugh.

You did physio by yourself. Steve drove you, got you inside and all that, but you did everything by yourself. You couldn't be this vulnerable in front of him. In the meantime, he got groceries, cleaned the car or even bought you small gifts like a new pillow or a nice necklace. He got more creative with it every day, and he saw that it made you happy. At some point, he started making origami stars while waiting in the car and gave you one for every session you did. That's what kept you going, and that's also what made butterflies appear in your stomach.

But all that happiness shattered into pieces the day before Sean's funeral. You could barely sleep the night before and were not ready to get up that morning.

“I don't wanna go.”, you mumbled as Steve already pulled out your dress uniform. He made sure all your medals looked prim and proper on your jacket. “You know who you're doing this for.”, he reminded you. Unfortunately, he was right. You thought you could ignore this grief, but knowing Sean's parents, little sister and Eddie were expecting you, you let Steve help you out of bed. Just like with the medal ceremony, he helped you get into your dress uniform and got you into your wheelchair.

The entire ride was quiet. To be honest, you dreaded facing his grieving family. They took you in so many times when you simply couldn't stand seeing your own family and friends. He even gave you his favourite bracelet, a black and red cord bracelet his sister made him before his first deployment. Maybe he knew his fate. But right now, you had it on your wrist. To honour Sean, and to give Eddie later.

The drive to the graveyard was quiet. Being in uniform while being pushed in a wheelchair was still humiliating, but you've gotten used to it by now.

You knew the procedures of a military funeral. The speech, the gunfire, folding the flag. You'd be standing there and folding it with them if you could stand on your own. But you couldn't. You only broke your legs, but he was lying dead in a casket. For the first time, some kind of guilt overcame you. And you couldn't even give a last respect with a standing salute. Or so you thought.

“Steve, hold me up.”, you whispered to him. He was reluctant at first, but eventually put one arm around your stomach and another under your armpit to hold you upright. And that's how you saluted to Sean one last time.

Eddie stayed longer than everyone else. He put on a brave face and didn't cry the entire time, but once everyone left, he broke down. Ugly sobbs left his mouth as he kneeled by his boyfriends grave. The worst part was that nobody knew. They barely told Sean's family about their relationship, maybe his sister at best, and it didn't feel right to tell them now. Steve pushed your wheelchair towards Eddie and let you two be alone.

Quietly, you patted his back as he let all his emotions out. This wasn't the first time he cried due to his boyfriends death, and it won't be the last. Maybe this was the first time he got comfort for it. You didn't know if he told his uncle. After a while, he glanced over to you while trying his best to hide his face behind his hair. It didn't work much. You removed the bracelet from your wrist and held it out for him to take.

“He gave me this…like 2 days before it happened.”, you said. “I think he knew…and I also think he'd want you to have this.” With shaking hands, Eddie took the bracelet from you. “Are you…are you sure?”

“Eddie, I've never been surer of anything in my life. Take it from me, I got married to Steve after just a week.” It made him laugh a bit, maybe his first laugh in weeks. “Yeah. You're still crazy for that.” Without asking, not that you minded, he sat down on the ground and leaned his head against the side of your wheelchair. Steve stood fat away, yet still watched the two of you. This may be the start of a beautiful friendship, despite the unfortunate circumstances.

A week after the funeral, Robin and Steve picked you up from physio together. When Steve rolled you out, you spotted Robin with a dog by her side.

“Robin, did you get a dog?”, you asked with a surprised tone as you watched her walk up to Steve and you with a dog next to her. It was a beautiful one, a golden retriever with perfectly brushed fur and a wide grin. Or as much as dogs can grin. “Not quite. He's for you.”

“Excuse me?”

“He's a service dog. Since you don't like help from humans, we thought you'd take a dog. His name's Charlie, and he's yours now.” Robin gave you no choice and handed you the leash, basically pressing it into your hand. “Why would you get me a dog without asking? And who's we?” Steve scratched the back of his neck, clearly feeling caught. Robin, however, didn't care. “You need to accept help. And since you don't want us to, he will. He can open cabins, grab you your meds, get you a blanket. He can even alert Steve when his blood sugar is low.” You scoffed and let the leash fall out of your hands. “Then let him have it. I don't need a damn dog.” Charlie went on to grab his leash with his mouth and try to hand it back to you. It was actually a bit impressive that he knew how to do that.

“You need help. Everyone does, but right now you do. And if you keep being an ass about it, you will never get better.” Steve gave Robin a wide-eyed look at her words. He wouldn't even dream of talking to you that way. But the friendship between the two of you was different than his towards you. “You're a real bitch, Robin.”, you grumbled before taking the leash again. “Hi Charlie.” The dog jumped up on your legs and started licking your face. It made your best friend laugh, and even your faux husband had to stifle his giggles. “See Steve, that's why I hate the wheelchair.” That was basically his final straw to burst out laughing. He had a beautiful laugh when it was genuine, you didn't mind it. Admittedly, you've put him through hell in the last few weeks. Maybe some weird part of you desperately wanted to hate him. The past would never be erased; you were scared he was still King Steve in some way. But he wasn’t. That part of him was in the past and stayed there.

“Alright, alright, let's get him home. I need a nap anyways.” And so it was. Charlie enjoyed the open window in the backseat while you were actually happy about not driving for once. “I have to admit, he's cute.”, you said while watching your new dog through the rear view mirror. There was a big grin on his lips as you said that. “Knew you'd like him.”, he teased, still grinning. It made you laugh a bit. “Careful with that tone, Harrington.”

At home, Steve helped you get on the couch. Like he just knew, Charlie grabbed you a blanket and threw it down next to you. “Smart boy.”, you cooed while scratching him behind his ear. After getting cuddled in, Charlie laid down next to the sofa. “Sleep well, I'll be in the kitchen!”, Steve told you before turning the corner.

A few days later, when Steve picked you up from physio, he watched you come back out walking on crutches. Immediately, he stepped out of his car to take a closer look. “What's going on here?”, he asked with a huge grin. You had a matching one on your face. “I wanted to surprise you!” Charlie trotted along next to you as your steps got closer to him. “One legs is all good, just my left leg is still wonky.” He helped you getting inside the car, and for some odd reason, today it made your heart flutter when he helped you inside the car. “Thank you.”, you husked, not noticing the red hue on your cheeks. But Steve noticed, and replied “Any time, Commando.” with a smug smirk.

You kept going to physio. Getting your ability to walk again was your ultimate goal, after all. Every day, you told Steve how much progress you made but kept one thing secret. It was a surprise you'd reveal in a few days.

Today was the day.

“Hey Steve!”, you yelled from the living room. Since he became somewhat of a close friend, it was a given you'd have to surprise him with your newly learned skill. So you stood up, without the crutches, and waited for him to come in. “Everything okay in he-” He cut off the second he saw you walk a few steps by yourself with a wide grin on your face. “See, I can do it again.” Unfortunately, you wobbled a bit and he quickly made his way over to catch you. But that didn't falter your spirit once. “Those were seven steps! Did you see that?” Your joy could be compared to that of a child.

“When did you learn how to do that?! That was amazing!” When you looked up and saw the matching grin on his face, a funny feeling spread in your stomach. You blamed it on the excitement you felt from walking so many steps. “Physio! It's helping so much! I'll outrun you again in no time.” Even Charlie caught up on the excitement and started jumping on your leg. Steve helped you sit down on the couch before plopping down next to you. “Those weren't baby steps, those were big girl steps.”, he joked. It made you chuckle, happy to have someone to share the excitement with. “I'm taking women's steps again soon enough. Oh, and then I can put on my pretty heels again! The things I could wear.”

In that moment, it showed Steve why he fell for you. The pure joy you showed him, how much you shared, that he made you so happy. There wasn't nothing better than being one of the few people to see you this happy.

Your excitement only grew from that day. Seven steps became nine, and nine became 15. The day you climbed up the stairs to your bedroom again without any help might have been the happiest day of your life. Even though there was the slightest pain coming from your hips, that didn't matter. You gained back your independence, and it made you ecstatic.

Steve, however, grew very protective of you. Not because he wanted to keep you dependent, but because he was anxious something might happen that could make you end up in the wheelchair again.

Slowly, he grew more fearful each day you took another step, while you got more annoyed each day.

It started with understandable things, like getting things for you you'd have to bend down for. That still was very painful for you, so you were somewhat grateful even though that's what Charlie could've done. Then, he started reaching for cabins despite the fact you could reach them. That's when the anger started growing inside you. You could reach upwards, you wanted to. But you tried brushing it off, knowing he might just have to get used to you being independent again. And then, the doting started. From asking you if you need help in the bathroom, to trying to help you get dressed. He wasn't even this protective when you were incapable of walking, why did this start now? It's not like he ever told you, or gave you a good reason. Eventually, just being in the same room as Steve made you wanna throw a plate at his face.

As a pick-me-up, you decided to bake your favourite treat: Cinnamon rolls. And you'd do it all by yourself. At least you thought you would.

“Let me do it.”, Steve said while grabbing the cinnamon from the shelf. You took a sharp breath in, caused by your annoyance. Why wouldn't he let you do anything by yourself? Just one single thing. You could walk again for the most part, your doctors cleared you. Steve wouldn't even let you make cinnamon rolls by yourself. “Thanks.”, you grumbled while taking the spice from his hands.

Next step was getting a bowl. Bending down was still hard, but Charlie was already opening the cabin to grab it for you. However, Steve got in the way and grabbed it first. “There you go.” The smile on his face fucking infuriated you. That's the kind of thing he and Robin got Charlie for you. Why can't he just let him work? “He had it.”, you said while taking the bowl and setting it down. “Just…wanna help.”, he mumbled. A small nod and huff was your response.

Alright, you'd just need to measure flour now. But did Steve have to be this close the entire time? He was basically breathing down your neck. And when his hand went to grab the flour from yours, you snapped.

“Will you fucking stop!?” The scream didn't even sound like it came out of your own body. It made him flinch and look at you with a slightly scared face. “I-I'm trying to help...”, he stuttered. That just made it worse. “I don't need help! I can fucking do it by myself!” The bag of flour in your hand flew through the kitchen and exploded once it hit the wall. You don't even remember throwing it. “Leave me the fuck alone! Stop treating me like a child!” That's what infuriated you the most; that he made you feel like a little kid. “I'm not…” Steve's voice was barely above a whisper, and he looked terrified. “Yes you are, Steve! I'm not your fucking daughter, I'm a grown woman who went to war in Iraq and had both her legs broken!” At this point, your throat was burning from screaming. Maybe it was also because you held back your tears; until you didn't.

You went to war in Iraq and had both your legs broken.

Finally, your voice died down. “Fuck…” You leaned against the kitchen counter and hid your face in your hands. It was a dumb idea, he could see your entire body shake as the pent-up tears left your eyes. You haven't cried once since you were first injured. Not when you got your diagnosis, not when you watched your parents and Robin cry at your bedside, not when you came home in a wheelchair. But this? That was one too much.

Steve watched you slide down against the kitchen counter. He knew that was your kryptonite. If your knees were on or above your hip level, you couldn't get up again without aid. But he couldn't help you. You made that clear. And it hurt him so much. Steve saw you at your most vulnerable, helped you to walk again, dressed you, washed you. But that wasn't actually your most vulnerable. This was. And this time, he couldn't help you.

“Do you think I wanted this? Do you think anyone actually wants a purple heart?” Considering he never knew much about any sort of military life, that never went through his head. How much does it have to mess with your head to receive a medal for being injured? Why did he never, not even once, think about how it must be to live inside your head right now. The scars on your body were visible, but not the ones on your heart. Maybe that's why he never realised that the emotional pain must be worse than the physical one. He couldn't see it.

“I got both my legs and hip broken, and all I got was chest candy and a shitty skin graft.” Your crying turned into laughter as you laid down on the kitchen floor. It was covered in flour, which landed in your hair and on your skin. “I'm going fucking insane, Steve.”, you laughed out. “And don't even try to help me now. I will take you down, you asshole.” He couldn't do anything but slowly back out of the kitchen. Charlie laid down next to you and watched your every move, or lack thereof. Your dog was the only help you'd accept right now, and that was only because Charlie didn't know any better. Helping you was what he was trained to do, and at least he didn't keep telling you what you can and can't do.

You stayed like this for hours. Steve occasionally glanced into the kitchen, seeing if you were okay. He couldn't fully see you most of the time because Charlie kept getting on and off your chest. But if he didn't hear you breathe, he would've thought you were dead. That's how stiff you were laying on the ground. Three hours in, he was pacing around the living room while thinking of anything to help you. But there was nothing he could do. He fully believed your threat, knew that even with a funky hip you’d overpower him.

After passing by the kitchen again, he stopped at the phone attached to the wall a few feet from the door. Steve was about to grab it and dial Robin's number when he heard you talk to Charlie. “I'm deformed, Char. Have you seen my legs? They're fucking hideous.” The chuckle that left your mouth didn't even sound human. “Skin graft is gonna work, they said. Good as new. Fuckin’ bullshit.”

He hated the way you talked about yourself. Those scars showed your bravery. There was nothing more beautiful than that. How much he wished you could see your scars the way he did. But he decided against calling Robin. He'd have to deal with this by himself.

While getting his clothes for sleeping from your bedroom an hour later, he watched Charlie get your blanket and drag it out. Before he could even properly check what he was up to, he ran back in to get your pillow. Was he bringing them to you? After getting dressed, he decided to check in on you one last time.

Charlie made you a little bed on the flour-covered kitchen floor. He even grabbed Steve's blanket from the living room so you'd have something to lay on. Unbeknownst to you, your fraud husband risked sweating all night and turned up the thermostat so you wouldn't be cold. The floor you picked was probably the worst one to sleep on. He heard your service dog open a cabin, followed by the rattling of your pain killers.

Maybe he has been doing too much. You could walk again, take baths by yourself, grab things from the shelf. Steve got so caught up in wanting to show how grateful he was for you that he unintentionally became ungrateful for you being alive. Everything he helped you with for months you could do again. In all technicalities, as long as you didn't fall, you didn't need him anymore. If the bomb never went off, you would've never needed him at all. But he needed you. First for your TRICARE, and now…just you.

While you were snoring on the kitchen floor, Steve tried to sleep on the couch. But he simply could. He fell in love with you; now he had to helplessly watch you sleep on the floor and refuse any help. Every hour, he got up and went in to check on you just to see you sleep while cuddled up to Charlie. It didn't change, except the side you were sleeping on.

With any luck, Steve got two hours of sleep in before getting up and seeing what you were up to again. By now, your eyes were open and you tried to grasp onto anyone to get back up. You were also incredibly drowsy from your pain killers, like every morning.

“Can I help?”, Steve reluctantly asked. Your half-closed eyes met his, and you hummed in agreement. He picked you up, princess style, and carried you to the couch. Charlie followed after him, but neither of you knew why he followed this closely. “Thank you.”, you mumbled while trying to fight the drowsiness. “It's okay”, he husked while laying you down on the couch. It's not that you needed more sleep, but after a night on the floor you needed this.

As he got back up, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him. Charlie started barking like crazy and tried to move him to get his insulin. When was the last time he ate? “Steve, sit down.” Suddenly, you were up again and hurrying around the house. Where did this sudden energy come from? Like you instantly sobered up. As told, he plopped down on the couch and started breathing heavily. You were rushing to get his glucose meter and insulin, which he luckily all kept together in a pouch.

He didn't even have to show you what to do. You just did, like you were getting commands from your head. “How'd you know?”, he mumbled with his head rested against the wall behind the couch. You just shushed him while working on getting him his insulin.

Once all set and done, you sat down next to him. “How long until it kicks in?” Now he was the drowsy one Charlie got a blanket for. “20 minutes.” You nodded while laying down with him, arms wrapped around his torso for some warmth. It must be scary…like it was scary for you to not be able to walk anymore. “It's gonna be fine.”, you kept mumbling, although unsure if you said it to him or yourself.

This was Steve's heaven. Laying with his head on your chest, feeling your warmth, your arms being so tight around him. He'd do anything to get used to this. “What can I do?”, he mumbled in a sleepy tone. You made a questioning “Hm?” sound and looked down slightly. “To not dote over you so much.” A sigh left your mouth. You barely remembered what happened last night, for some reason. But there was a lot of screaming, crying and apparently wasted flour. “Just…let me do things by myself. Or at least ask if I need help.” Steve hummed in response. That wasn't a hard task, although that was easier said than done. “Okay.”, he mumbled. Finally, his shaky hands found your waist and held on. This time, you didn't mind in the slightest. It didn't even feel as alien-ish as the last few times did, whenever you had to pretend in public. This was a private moment, and it felt…good. Why? Why did Steve Harrington make you feel butterflies?

“Thanks for asking, Steve.”, you whispered. He remained quiet, taking his time to breathe in your scent, feel your warmth and listen to your heartbeat. It was fast right now. But it helped him calm down and feel better. Eventually, the dizziness stopped and he was able to feel like himself again.

“Better?”, you mumbled. He nodded yes, but still hung onto you. “Can we stay like this for a little longer?” After everything you put him through yesterday, some comfort is the least you could do. Besides…you didn't mind this. It felt good. Like it was meant to be. “Of course. Anything you need.”

Steve bullied you. He made high school a living hell for you. You dreaded school every morning because of him. And yet here he was, cuddled up in your arms like you were the life he held onto. Steve was also just a scared boy who went through too much, and now has to deal with a potentially deadly illness. Being him must be scary right now. And what was worse is that there were damn butterflies in your stomach. You were falling for him, and it was happening fast. Besides, he really redeemed himself. Robin was right; he changed.

Slowly, Steve fell asleep in your arms. You weren't aware that he barely slept all night because of his worries. Not until much later, at least. But right now, no amount of flour in your hair or butterflies in your stomach mattered. All that you cared about right now was to make him feel safe, and cared for. He took good care of you when you couldn't walk, even if he overdid it, so this is the least you could do.

Soft snores escaped his mouth as he slept on top of you. But his death grip didn't change. He held on for dear life.

You stayed like this for a while. In fact, it was so comfortable that you fell asleep yourself with Charlie next to the couch. But waking up with him still on top of you…it felt right. Like you are meant to be here just like this. Nobody ever made you feel like this before.

“Good morning.”, Steve mumbled when he slowly woke up. His eyes scanned the room, assessed the situation he was in and came to the conclusion that this was the best nap he's ever taken. With you as his pillow? Hardly anything can top that.

That morning changed everything about the dynamic between you two. You craved each other's warmth, the comfort, feeling near to someone. It only took 2 more days until you started sleeping in the same bed. That was when you admitted to having feelings for him, which wasn't easy but happened. It was genuinely insane to you, how a fraudulent marriage could turn into a real one.

It became crystal-clear one night.

“Can I ask you something?”, Steve started. You looked over with a half-mouth full of pizza. “Hmm?” The tone was muffled due to your mouth being full. It made him chuckle, especially when he saw a string of melted cheese coming out. Even like this, you gave him butterflies.

“What do you want from your future?”

That was honestly a tough one for you. Join the army, that was the plan for years. And what comes after? You never considered. While chewing and swallowing, you took your time to think of an answer. “I don't know.”, you finally said. “Marriage, kids…well, I didn't plan to get married like this, but you know…” Steve was a bit surprised that you didn't have a whole plan. You always seemed so ready for everything. “What about you?” At this moment, you realized you never asked him what he wanted in life.

“Marriage, but I didn't plan on it this way either.” Another chuckle left his lips. “And kids. 6 little Harringtons.” You gave him a raised eyebrow.

“I don't know if I can do that.”

You didn't mean to say it like this. In fact, you didn't want to admit your feelings ever. This was purely business. Or was it?

“What do you mean?” He sat up straight from his slouched position, like Charlie when he saw a piece of bacon. “I…I don't…uhm…” You fumbled over your words, which was a hard thing to get you to. But it was perfect for Steve.

“Do you…”, he didn't need to finish his sentence, because you interrupted him. “I do, okay? The vows were a lie back then, but they're real now. And I really, really don't care what you say now, but I know how you treat me.” It was true. That's how he shows you how he likes you. It was an open secret.

“I wasn't gonna deny it.”, he said. His tone was quiet, yet serious. How did he manage to always make your knees weak? “You…I started developing feelings a long time ago. I can't tell you when, but it was clear when you showed me your first steps.” That was so long ago. And he didn't back down once? That's true love?

“Do you think our marriage could be real?”, he finally asked. Against all his expectations, you giggled and cuddled up to him. Like an instinct, his fingers started tracing up and down your spine carefully. “I think so. Do you?” His fingers stopped their movements, they rested on your hips and held on tight. “I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't hoping for it.”

For the first time ever, a man made you feel like a schoolgirl in love. You haven't deemed it possible, but there you were. In Steve Harrington's arms, feeling safe and secure. Knowing he liked you despite your PTSD, your scars, your temper. And now, maybe even love you. How beautiful was that?

“So, what does that make us now?” It was a no-brainer to you. “We're married already, no? How about we drop the act and are…actually married. Husband and wife. I'll even take your last name.” That last sentence made him pull back a bit and look you in the eyes. There was not a hint of doubt behind them. You were 100% serious. “I'd like that. A lot, actually.”

Like an instinct, Steve pulled you in for a kiss. This one was so much different than the one you two had at the courthouse almost a year ago. Back then, it was all an act. Now, it was real, it was passionate with so much love behind it. So real that it got extremely heated and your hands traveled underneath his shirt. Your husband broke the kiss and looked at you.

“Can you…uhm…” The awkwardness was apparent. How do you ask someone Is your hip healed well enough to thrust into you like a madman? But it was actually really sweet to you. He cared so much…and you pushed him away for so many months. “I'm cleared for everything, Steve.”, you giggled. That was good enough for him, and he happily let you slide his shirt over his head.

The following morning, you woke up next to him. The last time that happened, you two were just getting tension out. Now, this was for love. Actual love. Plus, seeing his sleeping form wasn't anxiety inducing like it used to be after your makeshift-wedding night. It was so lovely. His lips were slightly parted, and small snores left his mouth while the sun hit his gorgeous face. Your hand reached out to stroke a strand of hair back, but it made his eyelids flutter. “Good morning.”, you mumbled once Steve's gaze found yours. His brown eyes looked so beautiful in the sun, even if he knitted his brows from being blinded. “Morning, sweetheart.” Fuck, was his raspy morning voice always this attractive? If it was up to you, he could take you again right now. “Can we invest in some good blinds?”, Steve mumbled while hiding his face underneath the blanket. It made you giggle and join him in the little ford he built. “This is so much more fun though, no?” While you couldn't see him well, his chuckle made you aware he was right in front of you. “It would be, if the air wouldn't get so bad.” He heard you giggle, and it was like music to his ears. “I like to think I take your breath away just fine.” That was true, Steve thought. You were about the most beautiful, intelligent and kickass wife he could've asked for. “I think I can make yours hitch, if you let me.”

And you did.

Weeks later, Steve decided to propose. For real, this time. Both of you agreed to get married in church, and you didn't ask nor expect a proposal. You two were married already. But not on Steves watch.

He planned all of it carefully, with so many details and some help from Robin. You were already wondering why he started building a gazebo in the backyard, but put it off as decor. After all, he was truly living with you now. He has every right to make himself comfortable. Plus, he got butterflies all over again when you brought him something to drink while he was working on it.

But his actual motive was to propose to you, right in that gazebo. He liked the idea of having the place he proposed to you where the two of you lived. And he can always take it with him if you move; it'll never be gone.

Steve was gloating once it was finished. He showed you all the little details he included, why he put them there and lastly the golden platter drilled in the center railing. Mrs & Mr Harrington, with the date of your church wedding. Honestly, that already felt like a proposal to you and you gave him many kisses on the spot.

Robin took you to get your nails and hair done the next day. It was one of her spontaneous ideas, and blamed it on her having a date later that day, but not wanting to do the whole cosmetics thing by herself. Steve gave the both of you money for it. You were still unsuspecting of everything. Only when Robin tried to nudge you into shades like baby pink or classic french tips instead of the blue glitter you actually wanted was when you started questioning her motives. After a long discussion, you agreed on baby pink with some rhinestones.

It continued at the hair salon. She insisted you should get your hair curled, even though you didn't really feel like it. Plus, why should you? You didn't have to go on that date with her. “I haven't seen you in curls since high school. They looked good, they'd still look great now!” Right, you thought, that seems fair enough. And they'd be out by tomorrow anyways. So you agreed on curls.

While Robin's behaviour was rather weird, you didn't question it. Robin was weird. Always has been. That's why you loved her so much. “I need a pep talk from Steve before tonight, can I come in with you?” Of course she could. Nobody gives first date pep talks better than Steve. And while Robin suspiciously walked behind you, nothing that was about to happen would have occurred to you.

There were rose petals laid out on the floor, marking a way to the backyard. Robin was grinning like an idiot, and somehow now held a camera in her hands. “What's going on?”, you asked.

“Just walk.”, she insisted. So you did, until you were met by Steve in your backyard. He looked prim and proper, in a white button-up shirt and black pants. The grin on his face was borderline idiotic, but you immediately understood what was going on.

“Steve, what the fuck?”, you said under laughter. It was due to disbelief. You told him you didn't expect him to propose again, and you truly didn't think he would. But there he was, taking your left hand in his and placing a kiss on your forehead. Steve took a deep breath in before starting to talk. “(y/n), I didn’t expect any of this- when we got married. It was just paperwork, a signature- just to save my life.” You were already getting teary eyed at that alone. To think that this is how it started was genuinely insane. “You’ve trusted me to see you in your most vulnerable state after returning from Iraq, having to learn how to stand on your own again. Dealing with pain most people would collapse under. But I got to be there every step of the way, even if you didn’t want me there at some points. It was the biggest honor of my life. And then you let me see you put yourself back together.” His gaze never left yours, seeing the pure love in his eyes and a small, teary glaze over them. You could feel how his hand was getting shaky, and so was his breath.

“I didn’t expect to fall in love with you when we first agreed on this. Honestly, I never even expected you to love me back. But here I am, standing in front of you like some big sap, asking you if we can do this for real this time. No loopholes. No pretending.” Both of you chuckled a bit, despite your ugly crying, and you could hear a small giggle from Robin who was taking pictures like a pro. Steve reached into his back pocket and got down on one knee.

“So, will you marry me again? Because this time we want to? Because we love each other- because I love you more than I thought was even possible.” At this point, you were crying like a small child. Robin captured every second of it with her camera, including your ugly crying. “Of course I'll marry you.”, you sobbed. After placing the ring on your finger, the actual ring, Steve got up to wipe your tears away and kiss you. Not for a second did he care about your running mascara or snotty nose. All he wanted was to kiss you until you couldn't breathe.

“Didn't think I could make you cry like this.”, he whispered against your lips before kissing you once again. You giggled into the kiss with a small huff. After everything that happened, this was perfect.

When the excitement and hassle calmed down and Robin drove back home, you and Steve were cuddled up on the couch. Not once have you wanted to let go of him today, so now you held onto him with a cobra-like grip. Not that he minded, he never would. “Did I tell you Robin made the cake topper already?”, he randomly asked. You looked up at him with a questioning look, wondering what he was on about. The two of you chose one weeks ago already. After a bit of pouting from you, he got up and disappeared in your bedroom, then came back with a little box in his hands. Once he sat back down next to you, and you went full cobra on him again, he showed you the contents of said box.

The two McDonalds toy dinosaurs were dressed up in wedding clothes. His velociraptor in a tuxedo, and your triceratops in a wedding dress. As funny as it looked, it also summed up your relationship; two idiots, who are absolutely in love with each other and healed each other's inner wounds.

“I like these more than the one we originally chose.”, you giggled. “Can we still return the other one?” Steve gave you a kiss on the lips with a smirk on his face.

“We can do anything you want, baby.”

“Mommy! Mommy!” Your 5-year olds legs ran as fast as they could carry her once you walked through the gate. A 6-month deployment felt like 6 years, now that you had three kids and a husband to come home to. She jumped up into your arms without thinking twice. “Hi baby.”, you giggled before showering her face in kisses. A giggle escaped her lips. While Jocelyn was in your arms, your 3-year old, Sean, wriggled out of his father's grasp to run up to you as well. At this point, you kneeled down to hug both of your kids. “I missed you guys so much.”, you told them while holding back tears. They'll come out later.

Steve was last to come up to you, with your 8-month old daughter Valerie in a baby carrier strapped to his chest. He patiently waited for his turn to kiss you, knowing that your two older kids have not stopped talking about seeing you again for weeks. With one kid on each hand, you stood back up and leaned in to kiss your husband. Finally, for the first time in 6 months.

“I missed you.”, he whispered against your lips, then kissed you again. And again. And again. “Eww!”, Jocelyn said while pulling a face. That's what made you two seperate. “To be continued.”, you whispered to Steve before leaning down to kiss Valerie on the top of her head. “You're so big, Val.”, you mumbled, a bit saddened. It wasn't fun to not see her grow up, especially when she was still a baby. Steve saw your saddened expression and immediately tried to change the mood. “How about McDonalds, yeah?”, he suggested. There was no way you'd stay sad when seeing your kids grin, and their soon-to-be smeared faces. “Happy Meal!”, Sean squealed in excitement.

Being away sucked, but seeing their faces when you returned showed you that they didn't love you any less.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

I need to know I’m not fucking crazy for thinking that Anne Shirley from the modern live adaptive Netflix show ‘Anne with an E’ is supposed to be interpreted as neurodivergent. Specifically autistic.

Why am I having to explain to people on Tiktok that saying Anne is autistic/ implied to be is not a fucking slur? Because I’m having people attack me like even considering that her behavior is abnormal and implies neurodivergency is like the biggest offense in the world??

They’re arguing that it’s a ‘stereotype’ and normal people can act that way too, and it’s like yeah…but it’s a TV show based on a book series set in an age where autism wasn’t even really a diagnosis. It’s really hard to display the subtleties of neurodivergency on a TV show and get everything exactly accurate and politically correct. TV is meant to be dramatized, and yes, Anne with an E has it’s darker and more serious moments, but at it’s core it’s lighthearted, fun and whimsical. No duh Anne is going to be an exaggerated character, that’s literally her core trait. But that doesn’t make her any less autistic.

Do people think autistic people just suffer all the time or something? I don’t look at Anne and think “wow she’s so stereotypically autistic” I see Anne and I’m like “wow that’s the most accurate and fun depiction of an autistic girl ever”. I mean, at the very least she has to have AdHd. And don’t just take my word for it as someone undiagnosed, I’ve seen multiple posts and forums of diagnosed autistic people relating to Anne or theorizing that Anne is autistic as well.

This literally all started because I said that Anne isn’t a terrible person for trying to relate to Gilbert after his father’s death by talking to him about her experiences. That is LITERALLY A TEXTBOOK TRAIT of autism. Even if she isn’t autistic, it’s clearly shown that she constantly never understands social cues and therefore isn’t TRYING to be ignorant to Gilbert’s pain but is actively trying to show her empathy towards him in the only way she knows how and while I think Gilbert’s reaction is realistic and understandable, as an audience we have to understand that their conversation was not productive and Anne didn’t “deserve” to be yelled at for something she cannot control when she was trying to be a comfort to her friend. There are also real autistic people who talk about how this is a problem for them and ties in with social cues, autistic people tend to try and relate to people by empathizing with their own experiences, and to neurotypical people this can be seen as ‘selfish’ or ‘self centered’ when it isn’t. Anne literally does that multiple times and you’re telling me you DON’T think she’s autistic?????

Did we even watch the same show??? You’re telling me that the one character in the entire show who shows the most expressive range of emotion, relates to people with her own experiences, overshares to her teacher and basically everyone, who doesn’t understand a lot of social cues, constantly day dreams, is extremely creative, shows an abundance of empathy, and is quick to be overwhelmed or upset by the slightest thing or change let alone expectation she has that isn’t met, was othered and bullied by basically everyone in her life except for a few select people who decided to accept her as she is, as well as constantly struggling to fit into the societal norms around her and practically begging to be seen as ‘normal’ IS SOME HOW NOT AUTISTIC?????????? Yes, somehow the extreme behavior that basically goes down the list of the most common traits and visible signs of autism as well as struggles autistic people face actually is totally normal and atypical of her.

LETS BE SO FOR REAL. I had no idea media literacy was THIS dead.

I’m so tired of people tiptoeing around the concept that character’s can be blatantly autistic because they want to be politcally correct.

Yes, there are definitely terrible representations of autism out there. The Good Doctor is one, Big Bang Theory with Sheldon is iffy to me and I know that’s a whole debate. But I just don’t think that’s Anne with an E. Her autism isn’t what defines her as a person or a character, it’s just a part of who she is and you can see it. I think the reason Anne is only implied in the show to be autistic is because that would distract from her entire purpose as a character. I think the argument that ‘atypical people can act this way’ is valid because I think that’s the reason why it’s implied. Anne is just a girl, and her neurodivergency, no matter what it may be, doesn’t change that or who she is. She would still be that way, but I don’t think it would be as expressed. But you can’t deny the struggles it would bring her, which I think are stated clearly through SHOWING and not TELLING as a good show does.

[stereopticons]

On This Day in Schitt's Creek: March 6

2020

[text] I’m finding this happiness incredibly contagious [patrick/oc, G, 716] by text by (olive2read)

Patrick and Tim share a moment in the snow

Embarrassing Situations. [david/patrick, E, 1,375] by Jojogirl

David and Patrick stumble their way through some of life's really embarrassing stuff!

Feel Like Yours [stevie/twyla, T, 1,221] by unkindravens

As her dom, Twyla has taken over day-to-day decisions for Stevie while she figures it all out. Until Twyla tells her she can't anymore.

it happened when i least expected it [david/patrick, G, 3,434] by chthonicheart

Patrick makes an aborted noise in his throat, eyes bugging wide. Well. That very much answers the latent nagging question at the back of Patrick’s mind. The attractive man he’s been fawning over for the last thirty minutes is decidedly not into him. At all. Which is fine. That's fine.

Netflix and Chill [david/patrick, G, 420] by jojogirl

David and Patrick deliberate what to watch on Netflix.

Second Booth on the Right [david/patrick, G, 2,881] by alldaydream

A couple of moments shared between David and Patrick in their booth at Café Tropicale.

2021

[Podfic] Freckles [david/patrick, M, podfic] by @smallumbrella369

Podfic of Freckles by missgeevious

A Hint of Forever [david/patrick, NR, 1,819] by tuttlehimself

The night of his olive branch performance, David opens up to Patrick about accepting the gifts he'd been sent. Patrick considers David's past and their future.

cause the life and the love you believe is all or nothing at all [david/patrick, T, 848] by budd

Request from Anonymous: i'd love a fic where david gets injured (nothing too bad) and patrick takes care of him with lots of hurt/comfort. maybe david looking soft and wearing some of patrick's comfy clothes too if you want to fit it in there?? Title from "Band-Aid" by Mindless Behavior

Did the girls back home touch you like I do? [david/patrick, E, 1,563] by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries

Because what we all needed was another take on the night at Stevie's apartment

El Salvador [david/patrick, T, 300] by Rosey_Peach

Frame of Reverence [david/patrick, G, 2,722] by @lilythesilly

David sighs, because nothing good ever comes from Patrick framing something. The first time Patrick framed something he got a business partner. The second time he got a boyfriend. Ok, so maybe Patrick framing things isn’t actually that bad after all. (or, 5 things Patrick frames for David + 1 thing David frames for Patrick)

I Want a Key to Your House [david/patrick, T, 3,687] by @colourcodedbinders

He extends a hand towards her, and she takes it for a moment despite herself as she crawls out of the vehicle. Something tells her that he maybe needs the reassurance more than she hates giving it. “So when you say ‘look at this place’ with you…” “I mean that this is a house tour, yes. With the interest of potentially buying.” OR They're selling the cottage that David really likes, and Patrick really, desperately wants to make sure Stevie likes the place before he can tell David anything.

refining these impatient ores [david/patrick, E, 1,859] by @januarium

The way Patrick moves between snarky banter and desperate pleading during sex is one of David’s favourite things. He’s had a lot of great sex and in recent years almost all of it has even been with people he likes and gets on with, but he’s never been in sync with someone the way he has been with Patrick from the moment this started.

2022

A Mother's Love [david/patrick, T, 10,032] by @trueillusion82

I’m sure it’s nothing. David blinked up at the ceiling as he let out another long, slow exhale, in hopes that maybe this time, his mindful breathing exercises might actually do something to help calm his racing thoughts. He didn’t want to look at the clock again, because he knew that would only make him more anxious as his brain counted down each lost minute of sleep -- sleep that was even more precious now that his nervous system was practically a ticking time bomb, just waiting for the perfect combination of events to set off another flare. Only he couldn’t seem to get Marcy’s voice out of his head.

I Don't Wanna Talk [stevie & david, T, 1,281] by @jettestar

Set between Season 6 Episode 1 and Episode 2, Stevie spends the evening thinking about her life and what she might want.

I'll Always Catch Your Glance [david/patrick, E, 13,519] by @vanillahigh00

David is a fashion influencer and Patrick is an outfielder for the Toronto Blue Jays. I wanted to write out a full AU, but due to time, this is the 5 + 1 version of their story… Fives times they meet and don't get together... + One time they do!

Stats:

No fanworks for 2017, 2018, 2019, 2023, or 2024! 2020: 6 fics/10,047 words 2021: 8 fanworks (7 fics, 1 podfic)/12,814 words 2022: 3 fics/24,832 words Total: 17 fanworks (16 fics, 1 podfic)/47,693 words

[desertteagles]

╰───► MORAL CONSCIENCE- e. williams smau.

「tres」 ⇢ love between

Pairing — streamer! ellie x youtuber!black fem!reader x rockstar! dina

warnings — 18+ MDNI !!!, cussing, smut, fingering, oral (r receiving)

a/n ik ts took like tears to come out but HERE !( btw, this is a week after dina’s party 🧘🏾) this is also not proofread so.. ntm !!

chapter 2 ⇢ chapter 4

as you locked your phone and got up to let ellie in you felt bad for lying to dina even tho you really didn’t have any obligations to her. it still hadn’t hit you that you and dina were really done and you were fucking around with one of her best friends. but you couldn’t lie, it felt good to be with someone new and not someone who’s fucked you over time and time again.

shaking your head at your slowly declining thoughts you let ellie in and gave her a hug to which she took it upon herself to wrap her arms around your waist and sneakily (not) feel up on your ass and squeeze while pulling you into a heated kiss. you shuddered a moan into her mouth and reciprocated the kiss for a while before breaking it and looking up at her. she smiled and dove back in for more making you smile and let out a soft laugh.

“we’re supposed to be talking, not making out ellie” you smile into her incessant kissing before pulling back from her lips to look into her piercing green eyes. “i know, i know but i couldn’t help it” she kisses you one more time before moving to go sit on your light pink couch. you follow after her and sit facing her with your knees pulled into your chest before speaking, “ um so.. i know we both know how much drama this would cause if dina were to find out. and i think we should like slow down ? i don’t know but i feel like we’re moving very fast especially since i’ve just got of a relationship with dina, who’s you’re literal bestfriend and i feel super shitty right now and i wanna continue pursuing.. this .. thing? we have but-” you stopped yourself at the touch of ellie grabbing your hands to try and help calm you down before you drew in a deep breath and continued on with your rant and exposing how you feel. “but i feel like we should slow down, like no more fucking until we decide if this is something serious and not us just fucking around behind dina’s back” you exhaled deeply once you were finished saying what you needed to say and waited with bated breath to hear ellie’s response

she started nodding her head and said “yea, i agree. we are doing shit very unconventional and i don’t wanna hurt dina nor do i wanna hurt you. i really like you y/n and i want to actually see where this goes even if we are like super sexually compatible” she smirks at you as you groaned at her last statement. “ellie be so for real oh my god!” you laughed at her in embarrassment.

❥—————————————————————————————>

“ellie fuckkk-”

you honestly don’t know how you got in this position. at one point you and ellie were just talking and watching shows on netflix, trying to adhere to your rule of no fucking, but… that’s didn’t last long at all. ellie had (like always) brung some pre-rolls and decided you both should get high. it’s not like the last time y’all did that you both ended up naked under soft silken sheets in a penthouse apartment, but hey! you thought tonight would be different because you set some ground rules until you decided it wasn’t going to fast. you were wrong. as soon as ellie gave you a shotgun kiss it was over.

so now here you were, losing your mind over ellie’s tongue in your pussy. she was so good at sucking your soul and the tongue piercing didn’t help. you’ve already came like two times already and ellie would not let up. she said she’s just trying to make up for causing you so much emotional distress but you called bullshit. you weren’t complaining tho. ellie one of the best you’d ever had, almost better than dina. almost.

“ellie i can’t take itttt” you whined and pushed at her head. she was getting frustrated with how many times you kept trying to run and smacked your thigh before pinning them down by your ears. this girl had you to where you were unable to move and all you could do was take what she gave you. “i told yo ass to stop moving.” she emphasized her words with a harsh thrust of her fingers in your pussy before pistoning them and hitting that spongy spot that made your eyes roll back and your toes curl in pleasure.

all you could do was moan from the immense pleasure you were feeling. you know this whole arrangement was wrong but you couldn’t deny the way ellie made you feel.

“mmm i love this pussy baby” ellie moaned into your clit, still thrusting her slender but long fingers into your pussy. she raised her eyes to look at you. she found your eyes rolled into the back of your head and your mouth agape. your face was contorted in pleasure and she loved the sight of how her ministrations affected you. “you gonna cum baby? feel your pussy clenching all on my fingers” she chuckled at your pathetic state and you whimpered at the rapidly rising feeling of your orgasm approaching. “ellie shittt im close, don’t stop!” you grabbed ellie’s shoulders and digged your nails in at the feeling of her speeding up.

you were out of your mind. ellie was pounding her fingers into you so hard and fast that all that was on your mind was her. you weren’t thinking about dina and what would happen if yours and ellies escapades we’re to be found out. the combination of ellie fucking you with her fingers and making out with your clit pushed you over the edge with a piercing scream. “oh my godddd” ellie groaned into your pussy and pulled out her fingers before licking your cum off of them.

“you taste so good baby” she moaned and bent down to give you a deep kiss. you whimpered into her mouth while reciprocating and wrapping your arms around her neck. she pecked you on the lips one, two times before leaning back and smirking at you smugly. “oh fuck off!” you rolled your eyes and hit her upside the head with your pillow, she laughed in response and gave you another kiss.

[davenportia]

lab rats, if it was not produced by disney, or at least not disney xd (maybe netflix or disney+) would have been a much better show. bryan and chris did a great job with what they had but unfortunately were working for disney. if you’re following my insta, you heard me talking about this on my story yesterday, but i’m going to try to type it all out here. trigger warning, trauma, abuse, and deaths. i will also do another warning right before the topic is brought up. here we go

time: i am aware that disney shows whether channel or xd only have a certain amount of time for table reads, filming, editing, and then airing. for a show especially like liv and maddie, they REALLY didn’t have time as dove had to film everything twice. disney episodes, unless a special episode, are usually between 24-30 minutes. but it’s so annoying how everything gets solved so fast. the laugh tracks (i am very used to them but i am aware that people find them annoying). it’s not very realistic that way. now to swiftly move to the next topic, scripts and reality

scripts and reality: even a show like fuller house on netflix, which also only had 24-30 minute episodes, had a more realities script. disney said “tweeter, twits, facegab, e-phone, madame googoo, vuuugle” because they’re cheap, fuller house would say “new kids on the block, facebook, nintendo, hamilton, pippin” ACTUALLY NAMES OF things. even outside of that, they talked like normal people would. in a disney show, something would go wrong, they would cut to commercial break, then come back and say “i can’t believe you ____! how are we going to fix this?!” NO ONE talks like that except for disney characters. whyyyy

characters:

adam; he was the token dumb character and honestly, not a nice person. i know that disney always has sassy characters but adam was just rude and didn’t have a filter. there should have been more to his character. maybe he would have had some sort of special interest like dez from austin and ally. dez was dumb but had his sweet moments and was a really good filmmaker and director. all adam seems to do is make fun of others and use his super strength. he should have been more useful outside of his bionics. had some sort of personality other than being dumb.

bree, trigger warning - drinking? ; bree, desperately wanting to be a normal teenager, would have gone crazy with partying. literally in the first episode, she said she was close to getting a curfew she was going to break. she wanted to be rebellious from the first episode. bree would have been one of those teens that either did not want to grow up or wanted to grow up too fast. she may have even been a bit of a rebel in school. not too bad, but like getting detention sometimes. once she grew out of that phase possibly, she would have had an identity crisis. and yes, i mean that kind. she was not straight. there’s no way. she should have struggled with her sexuality. maybe even a potential love interest that was a girl. i mean, considering she was the only girl besides tasha, there should have been some sort of identity issues with her.

chase; chase probably could have been explored the most. disclaimer, i promise i am not being biased by saying that; i just know him the best out of all the characters. chase is the smartest man in the world and in my opinion, was way too sane. katie from alexa and katie would get overwhelmed thinking about high school and college and would have panic attacks. chase was stressed out a lot and probably should have had panic attacks. and it pains me to say that because the last thing i want is for him to have mental health problems but it’s very realistic that he would have struggled with anxiety and panic attacks. additionally, i have seen a lot of people say this, i could see him being autistic. i don’t think he is, but if someone were to confirm it somehow, i would totally see it. i could see him being overstimulated and like how he jumps up and down when he’s excited? that could be him stimming. also, i’ve always wondered this, isn’t it painful to use his bionic eye? i feel like i would get headaches. and then all the apps he has? commando app (i will talk about spike momentarily), magnetism app, override app (no pressure??), internal hard drive, laser bow, molecular kinesis, super senses, levitation (which was only used once wtf), and obviously, super intelligence. think about how overwhelming that is, and they called him WEAK? bro was holding the team together. even if he weren’t autistic, he should have gotten overstimulated more.

follow up- spike; i’m going to be incredibly contradictory here but just bare with me. what the fuck did spike even do? he just caused destruction and distress for chase. when chase was nervous, mad, or embarrassed, he came out, but only when the episode revolved around him. i understand davenport’s intentions: remove the flight part of fight or flight, but why did he make him so angry? and also, i think that’s a bit insulting to chase, as if saying he’s too weak to handle himself. ugh, the very little he did was just useless. i wish we had gotten more of him and that he had had a bigger role. he was written terribly and never came out when he really should have come out. leo’s jam, trent gets schooled, rise of the secret soldiers, bionic rebellion, space colony, and the attack episode are all examples of where spike could have come out because chase was embarrassed or upset. also chase clearly didn’t like spike being a part of him. why did davenport never realize this and remove him when not only does chase not like him but also, he was doing anything but help chase.

leo- trigger warning, mentions of divorce, abuse, possible death; did the writers forget the literal first scene of the show? his mom literally got remarried. what happened to leo’s dad? did they get a divorce. did leo’s dad die? was he abusive? was he not around? so many questions. and we know they were married because leo excitedly said “my 𝐧𝐞𝐰 dad is batman!” so it’s not like tasha and leo’s biological father had a baby but were never married. in ‘can i borrow the helicopter?’ leo confides in davenport about his crush on janelle and he told tasha, which leo was upset about, but he had the opportunity to be more upset than he was. maybe his old dad never would have done that. maybe he’s used to it so he wasn’t as upset but he never thought davenport would have done that to him. he also forgave him way too fast (again, fast-paced episodes😒). he also should’ve had a harder time adapting to gaining 3 siblings after being an only child his whole life. i mean, even chase - who already had a brother - had a hard time gaining even on sibling. other than familial life and possible trauma leo could have had, i don’t have much to say about the character. he was written pretty well and had some awesome lines

i’m going to make a part 2 so stay tuned!

[rainbowmoonstonestories]

Let Your Dreams Be Your Wings | Chapter 25

Chapters: 25/? Fandom: The Sandman (Netflix 2022, minor content from the Comics) Rating: Explicit Relationships Dream of the Endless/Morpheus x F!Reader  Characters: Dream of the Endless/Morpheus, Lucienne, Matthew the Raven, Mervyn Pumpkinhead, Hob Gadling, Death, Rose Walker, The Corinthian, other minor Sandman characters, Original Characters. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, POV switching, very long chapters to read. Summary: You always dreamed of becoming a successful Fashion Designer, sharing your creations with the world and making your father proud. But with him being very ill and so many costs solely weighting on your shoulders, things didn’t go as planned and you had to take a different path instead. An interesting offer led you to the elder Alex Burgess and you were hired as a new housemaid for a very good pay. However, your kindness and outstanding empathy convinced the man to give you an additional task for a doubled compensation; gaining the trust of Dream Of the Endless, held captive into the basement for over a century. Despite the shock of finding such an ethereal entity stripped of all his clothes and contained into a confined space, you had to accept for the sake of your father. But the more you got to speak to the mysterious anthropomorphic personification who didn’t utter a single word, the more you were lost into his eyes that, conversely, seemed to contain the entire universe. A deep connection formed between the two of you, separated only by a thick layer of glass.

Little did you know, what started like a simple housemaid job was about to change your life forever.

Credits: The moon dividers were made by firefly-graphics

Tagging: @number-0-iz, @emarich7, @jaziona92, @bridkesby @gallantys . If anyone else wants to be tagged in the next updates, let me know.

You can also read this on AO3 if you feel more comfortable!

Author's note: I am actually posting TWO chapters at once (one of the reason why it took me so long, along with the OP writing I'm also working on). Like I previously mentioned in a post, I was planning to conclude the drama between Morpheus and Reader in this update, but with everything I wanted to include, it was yet again turning into a gigantic piece. However, since I promised you I'd get things resolved in the coming update, I didn't have the heart to make you all wait again. So yeah, here you have it; chapter 25 and 26!

The story may not go beyond Chapter 30, but that depends on what I want to add. Also, with season 2 coming out in July, I might be able to create a finale that leaves the door open for the new episodes. And then, Le Your Dreams Be Your Wings, will get a sequel.

A pleasant night out with Hob triggered a potentially catastrophic accident. The separation from Morpheus was meant to keep you safe, yet without him, you seemed more vulnerable than ever. Meanwhile, The Dream Lord and Lucienne continued their search for the Book of Paradoxes, still concealed within the Library's depths.

While preparing for the evening's engagement, your reflection stared back at you like someone facing their final march to the gallows. 

When Hob suggested a night out to provide a proper distraction, you immediately declined, but he gently insisted and persuaded you to retrieve your cosmetics case and slip into something more elegant.

"You've been working yourself to the bone these past weeks, barely taking a breather even when you're home. Got to think about the little one there, Shortcake. Let your old mate Hob show you a proper good time."

Considering how he had dedicated himself to ensuring your wellbeing with his constant presence in your apartment, accepting his thoughtful invitation felt like a fitting way to express appreciation for his genuine concern. His daily commute across town to reach his workplace was a significant commitment, and he had firmly resolved to stay until he was certain you had regained your emotional stability—or at least, some semblance of it.

In the end, you relented. Devoting meticulous attention to your appearance, your applied some makeup with precision and selected an ensemble for the evening's undisclosed destination, striking a balance between elegant and casual. The prospect of socializing weighed heavily upon you, your thoughts inevitably returning to the Endless and his prolonged silence, the pain of his dismissal in the library still fresh in your mind.

The lack of even the most basic courtesy left you in a state of great disappointment. You were seething with rage, consumed by fury, your blood burning with resentment. Yet, had he offered even the simplest apology, you would have forgiven him without hesitation, rushing back into his arms.

"You ready yet?" Hob called from behind your bedroom door. “Are you all right?”

"Yes, I’m fine. Just a moment!"

"I'll wait in the living room then."

Exhaling deeply, you retrieved your jacket and secured your bag, inadvertently making contact with the Dreamstone while adjusting the strap. The artifact, which had served as both a protective talisman and tangible reminder of Morpheus' affection for months - crafted in the Dreaming before your very presence - now left you wondering about its continued significance. 

He was no longer part of your life, and even as you clung to the hope for him to return for you and your child, you began to recognize that such wishful thinking might ultimately prove detrimental to your health.

The Dreamstone was a poignant reminder of what you had lost, compelling you to consider relinquishing its possession, if only temporarily.

With a heavy heart, you unclasped the chain and removed the necklace from your neck, the luminescence of the Moonstone suddenly becoming pale and close to nonexistent as you placed it into the drawer of your nightstand. Inside, the dream shell remained, its once vibrant essence now diminished to a shadow, leaving you immobilized as tears threatened to spill forth.

With a resigned sigh, you put the Dreamstone beside it and closed the drawer, composing yourself with several breaths to suppress your mounting sadness. You straightened your back, gripped the jacket's fabric so tightly your nails nearly tore through it, and walked to the door with leaden steps, as if your feet were sinking into the floor.

But before you could even reach for the handle, barely touching it with your fingertips, a sudden voice in your head stopped you cold, as if doused with ice water.

"Take the Dreamstone."

The voice was commanding and powerful, resonating through your consciousness with unmistakable urgency, presenting an implicit choice that demanded immediate consideration.

"Take it with you."

Your heightened intuition returned with unprecedented clarity, accompanied by an overpowering sensation of foreboding that elicited an involuntary physical response of apprehension. You staggered backward, trembling and gasping, your eyes wide with terror as the jacket slipped from your weakening arm and crumpled to the floor.

"Take it. Take the Dreamstone," the voice—your voice—commanded.

The rational choice would have been to disregard these premonitions and leave the pendant behind, prioritizing your emotions and your unborn child. However, years of experience with your intuitive abilities had taught you that these warnings were neither products of an overactive imagination nor unfounded anxieties. The significance of this warning was undeniable, and ignoring it could lead to severe consequences.

Potential repercussions whose severity required prudent deliberation and preventive action, undoubtedly. You weren't willing to take that risk.

Without hesitation, you retrieved the Dreamstone from your nightstand, faster than lightning, instinctively pressing it against your chest before gently planting a reverent kiss upon its cool surface. Instantly, the stone warmed against your palm, its blue glow becoming brighter and seemingly alive.

A surge of renewed hope illuminated your spirit, spreading from your heart and descending to your abdomen, right where the tiny new life resided.

"So, where are you taking me again?" you asked, linking your arm with Hob's as you both wandered through London's streets.

"Well, there's this brilliant little pub just around the corner. They do a proper karaoke night on Fridays."

You halted abruptly. "Wait—karaoke? Is that what you're planning?"

"You told me yourself you fancy a bit of singing, didn't you?"

"Yes, but that's when I'm alone at home. You know, in the shower or singing along to my playlist. Actually performing in public? That's a whole different thing, Hob."

He shrugged dismissively. "I’m not gonna twist your arm about it. Just thought it'd be a proper laugh, at least. Give us both a bit of entertainment."

“I don’t know…”

"We ain't gonna be out all night. Just pop in for a quick hour. I'll have a proper drink, you can stick to whatever suits you. We'll enjoy some decent tunes and watch some poor sods make right fools of themselves, then I'll get you straight back home whenever you fancy. Simple as that!"

You sighed. "I don't feel comfortable mocking other people, that’s not my style."

"Hey, it is not mine either! But come on now, just give us one hour of your time. That's all I'm asking for."

His infectious enthusiasm and thoughtful planning made it difficult to decline. He knew those puppy dog eyes were his secret weapon, and you fell for them every single time.

"Fine," you said with a smile. "Just an hour, and then we'll head home."

"Now that's a proper deal!"

You resumed your journey together, his gentle grip on your shoulder guiding you forward as he led the way. The evening air was crisp, causing your hair to dance softly in the breeze. The streets were bustling with an array of pedestrians - couples strolling hand in hand, families enjoying their evening walks, and groups of friends congregating at various establishments throughout the neighborhood.

As you ventured further into the lamp-lit thoroughfares, your inclination for social interaction steadily diminished.

The pub was situated just a few blocks away, its welcoming ambiance enhanced by the soft glow of fairy lights, lanterns, and flickering candles. The atmosphere resonated with jovial laughter and spirited applause, punctuated by an amateur performer's earnest yet imperfect rendition of a popular song.

The host escorted you to a secluded table positioned at a comfortable distance from the stage, offering an optimal vantage point. Hob selected a premium single malt whiskey for himself, while ordering a glass of fresh almond milk to accommodate your needs.

"I must say, this place is quite charming," you observed.

"I know, right? They've only been open a short while, but the place is absolutely buzzing."

As the man on stage concluded his song, his supporters in the front row erupted in ovation and cheers. The next participant, a young woman in her 20s, gracefully took her position in front of the microphone’s stand, anxiously smoothing out her shirt and pursing her lips. When presented with the available song selections, she chose Billie Eilish's "Happier Than Ever." Her interpretation demonstrated notable skill, delivering the melody with impressive control and harmonious pitch, though occasionally showing slight tension during more difficult passages.

"She's quite good, isn't she?" Hob remarked.

"Yes. Billie Eilish's songs aren’t easy, but she's performing it beautifully."

As time progressed, the night’s entertainment seamlessly transitioned from one participant to the next, and what was intended to be a brief visit extended well into a second hour, with your enjoyment surpassing all original expectations. It proved to be therapeutic, providing a much-needed respite from your thoughts of Morpheus and the emotional turmoil following you.

However, all it took for your mood to plummet was seeing the final performer on stage directing his attention to a woman seated at a nearby table. What began as a casual solo transformed into an intimate marriage proposal, culminating in an emotional scene as his partner, overcome with joy, rushed to embrace him while joyfully accepting amidst the applauding crowd.

The moment was a moving testament to love's beauty, as the newly engaged couple subsequently sang a duet together, their voices trembling with pure happiness and elation. Their smiles radiated like the sun, their eyes shining like distant stars.

It was undeniably touching, but you were unable to join in the collective celebration. You remained impassive as tears threatened to breach the corners of your eyes, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. Inhaling deeply, you blinked the tears away and averted your gaze, finding the remaining drops of milk in your glass suddenly fascinating.

It felt like an infinite torment, each day bringing forth a fresh wave of sorrow that seemed inexhaustible.

"All right, it's almost midnight. Would anyone like to perform our final song?"

As the host made the announcement, a sharp ringing filled your ears. Noting the anguish written across your features, Hob's face grew contemplative as an idea began to crystallize in his mind. One that was about to take form.

"No one? Shall we call it a night then?"

Before you could even process it, Hob grabbed your wrist and lifted your hand in the air. "Over here mate!"

You whirled toward your friend, eyes wide with shock, your complexion turning pale with dread. "Hob, what are you doing?!"

"Oh, wonderful! Come on up, the stage is all yours!"

As curious heads turned toward you, Hob gave you an encouraging nod. “Come on, love. Time to treat these folks to some proper talent."

"Hob, you can't be serious. I can't sing in front of all these people… you don't even know if I'm any good," you whispered through clenched teeth.

"What's there to care about? Look, use this as your chance to let it all out. Just pretend I'm the only one watching, or you're back home singing to yourself in the loo or your bedroom. Or maybe picture everyone in their knickers, me included. That's what they say works."

"Miss? Would you like to sing, or shall we move on?"

Still caught off guard but seeing no way out, you yielded with a sigh. "Yes, I'm coming."

As you stood, you shot Hob a playful glare, mouthing "You'll pay for this later," which was met with his signature winning grin.

Nervousness coursed through your body as you approached the platform, the bright spotlights momentarily disorienting you.

The host paused, his expression a mixture of curiosity and anticipation as he held the microphone near his lips. "Wait a moment… we have an actual celebrity here!"

A quiet murmur rippled through the audience, your cheeks warming under the intense theatrical lighting.

"Is that Y/N Y/LN?"

"It's definitely her!"

"Oh my God, I adore her work!"

While you had always aspired to make a name for yourself in the fashion industry, being suddenly thrust into celebrity status was not something you felt prepared for.

"Well, this is quite an honor, isn't it? Which song would you like to grace us with?"

Scanning through the song list presented by the host, you carefully reviewed each option through your blurry vision. Despite your reservations about singing before a crowd, one particular title resonated deeply with you, standing out among all the selections.

It was undeniably daring, but something drew you irresistibly to this choice.

Your finger landed decisively on the picked song, causing the host to stare at you with sudden perplexity. "Uh… are you sure?" he asked in a low voice, holding the microphone aside to speak privately.

"What's wrong? It's on the list, isn't it?"

“Yes, it’s just…”

The host's hesitation evidently stemmed from the song's technical complexity and demanding vocal range. Given the number of people who already had their phones out and ready, an unsuccessful performance could potentially impact both your public reputation and the venue's standing. In today's digital age, social media platforms could rapidly amplify and scrutinize even minor missteps, generating unwanted chaos from nothing and potentially resulting in offensive content created purely for amusement and views.

His skepticism served only to strengthen your resolve, however, transforming your uncertainty into unshakeable confidence.

"I want to sing this song, if you would," you announced firmly.

Clearing his throat, he gave you a quick nod. "Very well. Ladies and gentlemen, our fashion prodigy is gracing us with a very special song: 'Human' by Christina Perri. Let's give her an encouraging round of applause!"

More claps erupted in the room as the host queued up the instrumental track. Your eyes located Hob, who flashed a wide smile and a supportive thumbs-up.

“Use this as your chance to let it all out.”

Indeed, you were prepared to channel every emotion into this expression of music. If Morpheus would not listen through the conventional channels of communication, perhaps your voice could transcend the barriers between your worlds.

The instrumental track began as the host descended from the stage. You approached the microphone, grasping it with one hand while steadying its holder with the other. You closed your eyes, readying yourself to sing the opening verse, the lyrics you knew by heart displayed on the monitor in front of you.

You didn’t need to read a single word, and you knew precisely what your soul was about to release into the universe.

Hob's jaw dropped at the ethereal quality of your voice, echoing in the room through the amplified sound of the microphone. Although some patrons had continued their conversations during previous numbers, the venue fell into complete silence the instant you began to sing.

"I can hold my breath,

I can bite my tongue,”

Each passing day, you kept a perfect façade of composure while battling an internal storm. Beneath the surface, an emptiness persisted, yet you projected strength despite the emotional strain tearing you apart. You refrained from saying the things you truly wanted to—at work, during calls with your father, and sometimes even with Hob. How much you missed your King of Dreams, how deeply it pained you not hearing the sound of his voice anymore. You made a conscious effort to hold back from initiating contact, recognizing that further rejection would only inflict deeper wounds upon your heart.

"I can stay awake for days if that's what you want,

Be your number one.”

You would have done anything for him, even pushing yourself beyond physical limits, were it not for the child growing inside your womb. Had he only asked, you would have waited for him forever.

You desperately wanted to hate him, but despite everything, you still believed he deserved only kindness and understanding. After all, the visible deterioration of the Dreaming served as testament to his suffering. Whether justified or misguided, his actions arose from his devotion to you.

The irony was not lost on you. Morpheus intended to secure your happiness, but what he did had paradoxically become the source of your most excruciating agony.

"I can fake a smile,

I can force a laugh,

I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask,

Give you all I am.”

You tried to project a picture of normalcy. You smiled in front of others, pretending the pain wasn't consuming you from within. You were crumbling, piece by piece, and you couldn't find a way to put yourself back together. You couldn’t breathe, every moment filled with a constant, dull ache in your chest, from sunrise to the moment sleep finally claimed you.

You feigned laughter, but every second felt hollow without him at your side. You continued moving forward, even though your heart was no longer in it. You gave Morpheus your love, your trust, your entire being… everything you were, everything you had. Even now, you felt like you still belonged to him.

"I can do it,

I can do it,

I can do it.”

You convinced yourself of your resilience, certain that your inner strength would carry you through this for as long as it was necessary. Still, your neverending heartbreak grew increasingly burdensome, making even the simplest tasks feel monumentally difficult.

"But I'm only human,”

And I bleed when I fall down,

I'm only human, and I crash and I break down,”

No matter how tough you tried to be, his silence was truly pushing you beyond your limits. The pain cut deep in ways words couldn't capture, you ached for his return, longing for him to once again be part of your existence.

You were giving it your all, but most days felt like you were just falling short. It all became meaningless—except for your child, who deserved to be nurtured and cared for.

"Your words in my head, knives in my heart,”

"You build me up and then I fall apart,

’Cause I'm only human.”

Morpheus had made you feel more deeply loved than ever before in your life. The same love that once elevated you to such heights had now sent you crashing to earth.

"You'll never leave me, right?" you asked earnestly.

Your question caught him off guard, and he needed a moment to process the fact that, for once, it was someone else begging him to stay.

"No. I will not.”

"Promise me," you pressed him, resonating with the wounds of past betrayals. "Promise me that no matter what, you won't break my heart.” Morpheus appeared genuinely sincere, his eyes filled with absolute convinction. "You have my word.”

You were not an immortal being, not a divine entity with unlimited power. You were simply human—a mortal who had experienced the pure bliss of loving Dream of the Endless, only to have it all slip away like morning mist.

"Woah, she's really good," someone commented, followed by an appreciative whistle from the back of the room.

By then, you were lost in the lyrics, the bright spotlight rendering the audience invisible.

“I can turn it on,

Be a good machine,”

I can hold the weight of worlds if that's what you need,

Be your everything.”

You would willingly bear any burden for Morpheus. You struggled to cope with the remnants of your relationship, your unborn child, and the crushing pressure of separation—all while trying to stay afloat and grappling with mysterious magical abilities beyond your understanding. Your deepest desire was to be his pillar of fortitude, offering him all that was in your capacity, if he would only accept it.

Your voice ascended to a higher register as you delivered the lyrics with an intensity that belied your doubts.

“I can do it,”

“I can do it,”

“I’ll get through it.”

You closed your eyes again, your hand instinctively moving from the microphone stand to rest upon your abdomen. A mesmerizing aura enveloped the place as the audience watched you transfixed, under your indirect spell, each person deeply moved by the emotional resonance of your raw, heart-wrenching delivery.

"But I'm only human,”

And I bleed when I fall down,

I'm only human, and I crash and I break down,

Your words in my head, knives in my heart,

You build me up and then I fall apart,

’Cause I'm only human.”

During the musical interlude, your gaze drifted above the crowd. An unexpected presence caught your attention at the back of the venue, something distinct from the ordinary surroundings. For a fleeting moment, you perceived Morpheus' silhouette among the shadows, his dark figure striking against the ambient light, watching your performance in stillness.

But as soon as you blinked, the dark figure vanished, leaving you to rationalize it as a mere manifestation of your mind, or perhaps just a trick of the lights.

Your voice trembled on the edge of breaking, but you channeled your mounting frustration into a powerful rendition of the following verse.

“I’m only human,

I’m only human,

Just a little human.”

The extension of your voice astonished even you as you sustained that note with unprecedented resistance. When the last echoes faded, you were completely exhausted, breathless, and utterly spent.

“I can take so much,

‘Till I’ve had enough.”

The situation had become untenable. A resolution was imperative, regardless of what revelations the Book of Paradoxes might contain. His unilateral decision-making had effectively stripped you of any agency in determining the course of events, a fundamentally inequitable approach to what should have been a mutual discussion from the start.

With renewed determination, you summoned the energy to sing the closing chorus.

“’Cause I'm only human,

And I bleed when I fall down,

I'm only human, and I crash and I break down,

Your words in my head, knives in my heart,

You build me up and then I fall apart,

’Cause I'm only human.”

As the final notes faded away, the instrumental accompaniment drew to a close. Your pulse thundered in your head, nearly drowning out the thunderous applause and commendations from the audience. With a modest smile, you muttered a quiet "thank you" before stepping away from the stage. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, you made your way back to where Hob sat waiting at your table, navigating through a group of animated patrons eager to compliment your abilities aloud.

Hob immediately rose from his seat with such urgency that he nearly toppled his chair. He wrapped you in the most crushing embrace he had ever given, holding you close as his breathing trembled against your shoulder.

"Blimey, Shortcake, that was absolutely bloody brilliant," he declared. "I mean, I knew you'd be good, but that? You brought the house down."

"You're exaggerating."

"Exaggerating?? That was magnificent! You've outdone the original artist herself!"

You chuckled, nonchalantly grabbing your bag. "I think we can head out now. I'm a bit out of breath."

The host appeared thoroughly impressed, visibly ecstatic about the potential for positive reviews. "Wow, what just happened? That was hands down the best performance today—if not the best of all time since we opened. Perfect conclusion. Enjoy the rest of your night, everyone!"

As Hob assisted you with your jacket, two girls came forward respectfully, clutching a clean napkin with nervous hands.

"Excuse me. May we ask for your autograph?" one of the girls asked timidly.

Your eyebrows shot up in shock. "Mine?"

The other girl nodded. "Yes, we're fans of your work. Corbyn&Jones is by far our favorite brand. I spend most of my salary on your clothes these days."

"And the jewelry! The designs are so unique and beautiful. Look! I've got this bracelet and I never take it off!"

A smile brightened your face as you spotted one of your creations adorning her wrist, its silver chain and charms catching the warm light. You noticed they were both wearing knee-length dresses from your latest collection, which created the perfect statement look for a night on the town.

Both garments complemented their wearers' figures and styles impeccably.

"I don't know what to say, you've made me truly proud just now," you replied. "Hob, do you have a pen?"

"Of course I've got a pen! Been carryin' one since before they were even invented!"

Both girls chortled at what they assumed was just a clever joke, oblivious to its literal truth.

"Here you go. Make it worthy of that lovely name of yours."

With a professional smile, you gracefully signed both napkins, preserving your penmanship despite your unsteady grip to ensure an elegant signature. This marked your first in-person autograph request since your name gained prominence following the Fashion Show, representing the fulfillment of your long-held aspiration - not merely achieving success, but empowering others through your designs.

Satisfied, the young women rejoined their companions, carefully holding their napkins as cherished mementos. You attempted to return the pen, but Hob insisted you keep it as a token of good fortune.

While this was everything you had dreamed of achieving, at present, you were unable to fully embrace the triumph.

"I have to admit, that was actually liberating. Though I don't think I want to do it again anytime soon."

“….”

"Come to think of it, choosing that song was quite risky. It could've ended badly."

“….”

Hob's uncharacteristic quietness made you look over your shoulder, suddenly worried you had accidentally left him behind. “Hob?”

He stood a foot away, hands thrust deep into his jacket pockets, his smile tinged with melancholy. "I’ve been thinking about something for a fair while now."

You tilted your head and asked, "What is it?"

"You know I've been kickin' around this mortal coil for centuries, and like I've mentioned before, I wouldn't mind sharing that gift of immortality with you. You know, make you my partner in all sorts of mischief."

You laughed. “Hob, seriously—”

"I am bloody serious. This is no joke, Shortcake. I mean every word of it."

With a deep sigh, you wrapped one hand around your collar, shielding yourself from the gusty wind. "Hob, it's getting late. Maybe we should talk about this another time."

"Look, I won't keep you standing about in the cold for this. Just... after tonight especially, you've become proper special to me."

"Oh? Are you saying I wasn't special before?"

He let out a hearty laugh. "Of course you were! What I'm gettin' at is... you're a big deal. You're family to me. And while I'll keep on trucking through the centuries, watching humanity muck about with their so-called progress and whatnot, one day... well, one day you won't be around anymore."

“Hob—”

"I’m not trying to force your hand or nothing. Just... give it a serious think. I know we've had this chat not long ago, but... bloody hell, Y/N, I can't bear the thought of you not being in my life anymore."

Your lower lip quivered. "I'm here now, though."

"Yeah, but for how long? One day you'll be pushing 90 or 100... and then Death will come knocking. And now with this little miracle growin’ inside you, I mean... wouldn't it be nice to stick around a bit longer? Leave more of a mark on this mad world of ours?"

You reached out your hand to him, and he took it without a moment's hesitation. "Don't get yourself all worked up now, love. You've no idea what that daft bugger's got planned. If he comes back - and he better, mind you - with you carrying his little one and all, would you really want to leave the rest of us behind?"

Every aspect of the situation felt like another blade twisting in your heart.

Words in my head, knives in my heart.

"I'm exhausted right now, Hob. But I promise you, I'll truly consider it this time."

"That's all I'm asking. I just don’t want to lose you. I’ve been alive long enough to know what that feels like."

You reciprocated his gentle grip with equal affection. "You'll make me cry. You know pregnancy has my emotions running high."

"Right, sorry about that. Didn't mean to get all sentimental on you. Let's get you home then, you need a good kip after all that."

Releasing your hand, Hob took his place beside you as you both continued your walk back to your residence. The streets had grown quieter, your footsteps echoing in the night.

Suddenly, Hob's phone rang, causing both of you to stop in your tracks. When he pulled it from his pocket, his expression darkened at the caller's name displayed on the screen.

"Sorry, I've gotta take this one."

As a dedicated educator, he frequently received calls from his students at unconventional hours. His role extended beyond normal teaching, as he served as a trusted mentor and guide to his pupils. After answering the call, he stepped aside and spoke in hushed tones, discussing matters beyond your comprehension.

"What? Nah. Eh? What are you on about?"

Your attention wandered to the convenience store across the street. As your nausea had finally subsided for the day, your appetite had begun to return, and you started to crave a light snack as your stomach grumbled.

Not wanting to interrupt his call, you quietly gestured to Hob that you were heading to the store. He acknowledged with a brief nod while continuing his conversation, which appeared to be growing increasingly complex.

After carefully checking for traffic, you proceeded across the pedestrian crossing. The street appeared calm and deserted until a deafening sound suddenly shattered the silence as you reached the midpoint. A vehicle emerged out of nowhere, hurtling from left to right at excessive speed, with the driver exhibiting signs of impairment.

Time seemed to decelerate as you pivoted toward the oncoming car, your limbs paralyzed on the spot.

“Y/N!!!”

The horrifying realization struck as the vehicle barreled toward you without slowing. Time seemed to stretch as the headlights grew impossibly bright, and your body instinctively responded by closing your eyes, bracing for impact.

Then, silence fell.

Morpheus entered the throne room in a contemplative state, as if in a trance, his chest constricting and feeling crushed by an invisible force. When he visited the Waking World in search of you, he was astonished to discover you performing on stage; your voice now resonated in his mind, melting into his heart like liquid gold. 

After witnessing Orpheus' tragedy, he had resigned himself to never again experiencing such exquisite musicality. Yet here you were, revealing yet another extraordinary talent that took his breath away, making him long even more desperately to return to your side.

Your vocals were extraordinary, and the meaning behind those words was clearly directed at him. Though he was not well-versed in contemporary human music, the intentionality behind your song selection was unmistakable.

He was conducting a thorough search, but the Book of Paradoxes remained elusive, concealed within the depths of his castle and refusing to manifest itself for him again. His devouring need to be with you and your unborn child was tempered by the grave responsibility of ensuring your safety—this without complete knowledge of the consequences that lay ahead, whatever those might be. 

Should the Book of Paradoxes require a previously unconsidered interpretation, it was crucial that he address this oversight expeditiously. 

A simple apology would be insufficient to rectify the gravity of his actions, and the weight of his remorse was eating him from the inside out like an infectious bacterium. Would you permit him to return to your life, to assume his rightful role as father and partner as if his absence had never occurred?

Though part of him believed he was unworthy of both you and the child, abandoning the woman he loved and the miracle creature you conceived together was no longer an option he was willing to consider.

Just as he prepared to resume his search in the library, a powerful wave of energy ripped through him, causing his entire being to tremble and grow cold.

A shattering sense of terror consumed him as he detected a severe disturbance, one that seemed to radiate directly from your essence in combination with the Dreamstone around your neck.

Your heart leaped as you reflexively raised your arms in a defensive position. Mere inches before impact, the Dreamstone activated, generating a celestial barrier that appeared as a translucent shield—its brilliant blue light colliding with the oncoming vehicle. The force of the impact was so strong that it crumpled the hood and made the engine inoperable, leaving it smoking and destroyed. 

The car veered off course, colliding with a nearby lamppost. The deafening silence was shattered by the blaring of the car's horn and the deployment of the airbag, while the disoriented driver made frantic gestures, struggling to open the jammed door. 

“Y/N!!!! Are you all right??????”

Hob hastened to your side, his mobile phone still clutched in his grasp, his expression etched with shock and fright.

As you released a shaky breath, your hands instinctively moved to your abdomen, checking to ensure both you and the baby were unharmed. "I'm fine... we both are."

"Are you sure? That car didn’t hit you, did it?"

“No. It didn’t.”

The accident drew a crowd of spectators from nearby establishments, with people emerging from restaurants and pubs to witness the scene. Those indoors peered through windows or ventured onto balconies, observing a situation that defied logical explanation. 

When the driver finally managed to exit the vehicle, he collapsed onto the pavement, exhibiting clear signs of intoxication and severe motor dysfunction.

A sound from Hob's phone indicated the call was still active. He raised the device to his ear, briefly informing the caller he would contact them later, before terminating the conversation - all while keeping a deadly glare at the inebriated driver.

"You absolute wanker! What the bloody hell were you thinking, driving like that?!"

In a flash, Hob slammed the man against the side of the car, gripping his collar. "You could've killed her, you sodding git! That woman there is pregnant, you absolute idiot!!"

“I—uhh—what….”

"Look at the state of you. Can't even string two words together, you drunken bastard."

After releasing the man, who collapsed to the ground again in his dazed state, Hob's jaw clenched so tight you feared it might snap. Approaching you with concern, he conducted a thorough visual assessment of your condition, methodically examining you for any signs of injury.

"Y/N, what just happened? I saw that car coming straight at you... how in blazes did you manage that?"

"I didn't do anything. It was the Dreamstone."

“The what now?”

"This," you said, holding up the pendant.

The stone's surface was covered by its typical blue luminescence, moving around in an intricate spiral pattern before returning to its quiescent state.

"Ah, thought I'd seen a bit of magic there. He actually managed to do one decent thing, I'll give 'im that much."

Hob guided you to the sidewalk, providing support as you exhibited visible signs of post-incident shock. Shortly thereafter, law enforcement cars arrived at the scene, their sirens piercing the night air as the forming traffic redirected to accommodate them. Emergency medical services followed promptly, attending to the incapacitated driver who remained motionless on the ground, mumbling incoherently.

Given that your protection came from a mystical amulet created by the Lord of Dreams, completing the police report proved rather delicate. Hob handled the situation diplomatically, explaining to the officers that the drunken driver had swerved into the lamppost while attempting to avoid a collision with you at the crosswalk. 

Taking your physical condition into consideration, the attending paramedics strongly recommended a precautionary examination at the hospital to ensure both maternal and fetal wellbeing. Despite your insistence that you were unscathed, Hob agreed that a medical evaluation would be a prudent decision, given the potential psychological impact of such a significant trauma.

Too drained to protest further, you consented to medical transport, accompanied by Hob, while emergency services simultaneously transferred the driver for assessment.

"You're not going to her?" Matthew asked, peering up at his boss with questioning dark eyes.

Morpheus stood rigid, his expression tense as he stared at the paramedics assisting you into the ambulance.

"The time is not right," he replied gravely.

"Uhh boss, c'mon! She almost got pancaked by a car just now! She's gotta be totally freaked out. If this isn't the perfect time to show up, then when is?"

"What can I possibly give her now that would make any of this better?"

Matthew heaved a weary sigh. "Look, I know you're the lord of all dreaminess and whatever, but let's cut the crap here - you're just making excuses!"

Morpheus' hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his black coat. "She was meant to be safe, Matthew. This outcome was… never intended.""

"Well, your plan sure went sideways, didn't it?"

As the emergency vehicle departed, Morpheus maintained his vigilant watch until the ambulance vanished into the distance.

"Look, here's the deal. This whole thing is just caw ridiculous! You left because this dusty old Book showed you some doom and gloom about your relationship, and you got it in your head that she'd be better off without your brooding self around. But hey, after what just went down? caw I'd say your crystal ball needs a serious reality check!"

Upon reflection, Morpheus acknowledged the gravity of his error. He had hastily chosen the path of greatest suffering without fully examining alternative possibilities, under the misguided assumption that no viable solution existed for your shared future.

Where dreams and reality intertwine,

The bond between souls unravels and dies.

Even after thorough analysis, he could not escape the ominous implications within the text. But if you and your child required such protection in his absence, how could he provide for your safety when your love appeared destined to bring misfortune? To what extent could the Dreamstone's capabilities alone shield you from physical harm?

While his mystical artifacts possessed undeniable power and reliability, he questioned whether an unknown external influence might be affecting the circumstances.

One might attribute this occurance to mere chance or unfortunate timing, but Morpheus knew better—there were far deeper implications at play.

“I was wrong, Matthew.”

"No judgment here, your heart was in the right place. But seriously? This whole thing's gone pretty bad! I get it, you're not exactly rushing to face her after everything, but how long are you gonna keep this up? She's carrying your kid, for crying out loud!"

"I assure you, I will not rest until I have made this right. The universe itself will bend to my will if necessary."

Matthew spread his wings and stepped forward. "Now that's what I wanna hear! And hey, if you need a raven's-eye view on anything, I'm your bird!"

Morpheus nodded, offering the raven the faintest hint of a smile. "Very well. You know your duties, Matthew."

"Right on, boss! On it like a crow on roadkill!"

With a final caw, Matthew took flight, his wings carrying him in pursuit of the ambulance. Through his eyes, he kept a constant connection to the King of Dreams, who returned to his castle vigilantly aware of your whereabouts, never letting you out of his sight.

You had not yet undergone an ultrasound examination since discovering your pregnancy. The room was softly lit, the soft hum of the machine filling your ears as you reclined on the examination bed with your abdomen exposed.

The technician applied the cool ultrasound gel, moving the transducer in circular motions. You watched the monitor with mixed anticipation and anxiety, a hazy, grayscale image materializing on the screen.

Given his peculiar nature as the Lord of Dreams, the thought of Morpheus in such a mundane setting as a medical clinic struck you as quite comical. Moreover, his innate abilities likely rendered traditional diagnostics redundant, as the baby's heartbeat had registered in the Dreaming before the heart itself had even fully formed.

None of that mattered now, all things considered, as you were forced to experience seeing your child for the first time without him.

"Let's see how this little one is doing," the technician said warmly. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

“Yes.”

"I understand you nearly had an accident earlier. Were you injured at all?"

You shook your head. "Not even a scratch."

"Your overall health appears good. Are you experiencing any discomfort? Abdominal pain?"

"No, none at all."

You looked at the screen intently as the ultrasound image adjusted in front of you, with the technician calibrating the magnification by making precise corrections to the equipment.

"Based on your test results, you're now in your sixth week of pregnancy. Here on the monitor, you can see the gestational sac—this dark circular area containing fluid."

Six weeks had passed since conception. And yet, each day without Morpheus ached as deeply as the first.

"Now, here we have a yolk sac, this smaller white-edged circle. This is what feeds the baby until the placenta is formed. And right beside the sac, we can clearly see the embryo. It measures approximately four millimeters."

You propped yourself up on your elbows. "Is that sweet pea-sized spot?"

She chuckled softly. "Yes, that's exactly right. This is your baby."

It was so small, just a minuscule flicker of life, a sweet promise of the future. There, before your eyes, was your child. His child.

You found yourself wondering about their future appearance, whether they would inherit Morpheus' distinctive features like his cerulean eyes and chiseled jawline, or if they would more closely resemble your mortal characteristics. As an anthropomorphic being, you had no idea how an Endless' DNA might work.

Your throat constricted, but you managed a gentle smile.

"Oh, wait! See that flickering? That's the very first visualization of the baby's heartbeat. It's like a rapid little rhythm, reaching up to 110 beats per minute."

“Isn’t that too fast?” you interjected.

"No, not at all. It's completely normal for the heartbeat to be this swift at this stage."

Your voice wavered. "So, the baby's fine, right?"

"Absolutely! The baby is developing wonderfully. Six weeks is an ideal time for a scan since we can now see the early development quite clearly."

The technician paused to capture several still images of the ultrasound from various angles, documenting the examination.

"I'm saving these digitally. Would you like a printed copy as well?"

Silent tears began streaming down your face as your fingers brushed against the embryo's image, each drop a reflection of your conflicting emotions. The irrepressible excitement intermingled with an acute sense of emptiness, creating a complex tapestry of feelings that was both overpowering and bittersweet.

"Yes," you responded weakly, your shoulders quivering. "Please."

In the waiting room, Hob paced back and forth, questioning his decision to persuade an outing you clearly had misgivings about. Had he exercised better judgment and ensured a timely return home rather than encouraging the impromptu performance, perhaps this additional source of stress could have been avoided in the first place.

Restless and seeking a distraction, he positioned himself against the wall, pulled out his phone, and initiated a call, anticipating a response on the other end.

“About bloody time you called me back, Gadling. I was starting to think you'd dropped off the face of the earth.”

"Yeah, sorry. Been a bit tied up with a spot of trouble here," he replied, casting a glance toward the ultrasound room.

"Trouble? You finally decided to retire and live like a normal person?”

He released a heavy sigh. “No, I’m at a hospital. Not for me."

After a pause, the woman spoke again. “Right, I’ll bite. Who’s it for?”

"A dear friend of mine. She's in there getting one of them fancy baby pictures done right now."

“A what?" She exhaled sharply. "Hang on—are you saying you knocked someone up?"

"God, no! It’s not mine."

"Whose kid is it then? Bit strange you're there playing nanny to some girl carrying another bloke's baby."

"Well, it might sound a bit mental," he answered. "You're not gonna believe this one."

"Go on then, give it your best shot."

He sat in one of the chairs, leaning back and stretching his legs. “It’s Dream’s.”

A moment of silence passed before she let out a violent curse. "You’re taking the piss."

“Cross my heart. She's carrying his baby. Though the big man's gone all broody and dramatic recently. Won't say more than that, not my tale to tell, yeah?”

There was another exhale, followed by the distinct sound of her taking a sip of her beverage. "Right then, let me sort this out: The bloody Sandman got himself tangled up with some poor woman, got her pregnant, and now she's left dealing with all his drama?"

"Not just some woman. She's proper special, this one. Got the kindest soul you'll ever meet."

"Bollocks. So what was all that screaming about earlier? People don't just go around wailing for no reason, do they?"

"Best leave that one be. Don’t concern yourself with it."

"Listen Gadling, I didn't ring you for a chat. There's something at work here, and I'm not talking about your typical demonic nonsense. This woman you’re mentioning, who is she?”

He rubbed his eyes wearily. "She’s not your problem, all right? And whatever crap you were going on about earlier, it has absolutely nothing to do with her."

"I can sense it's got your fingerprints all over it, even if you're not the one pulling the strings directly."

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"There's a disturbance in the fabric of reality. Whatever it is, it's big, and I've got no bloody idea if it's here to help or destroy us all."

Hob shook his head. “She’s not one of your evil entities toying with our heads. She’s human, just like you and me.”

"She's carrying a spawn of the Lord of Dreams. We both know that's not exactly ordinary, mate."

Growling, he snapped. “So what? Do you think this little one is turning bad? Don’t be ridiculous now. You’re just as unnerving as your ancestor, I swear.”

"If you think this is just me being paranoid, then you really don't know me at all."

He snorted. “Do I, really? The only reason why you’re so caught up with me is because I’m immortal. I never had a single business with your family, except the one time your distant relative attempted to coerce me and my friend in the middle of our drinks.”

He paused, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, you met him yourself not long ago, didn't you? Sure, he's a bit mysterious and all that, but you know as well as I do he's not out to harm anyone. And this baby of his? It's no monster, I can tell you that much."

"Never said it was, did I? But there's something off about all this, something that stinks of you. And I'm going to find out exactly what it is, whether you like it or not."

"Right then. If you're thinking of causing any trouble for her, you'll have to get through me first, love. And I've had quite a few centuries of practice at being rather hard to break."

She chortled. "We'll see, bruv. Keep those eyes peeled if you know what's good for you."

Upon hearing the ultrasound room's door open and your voice nearing, he immediately jolted back to his feet. “Always, Constantine. Sorry, got to run now.”

And with that, he terminated the call, walking to you expectantly. Your eyes glistened with tears as you stared at the picture clutched between your hands, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world, as fragile as glass.

"Look," you whispered. "Can you believe how impossibly tiny it is?"

As you rested on the couch, a blanket draped across your lap, an unsettling thought overtook your mind. The Dreamstone, your primary source of protection, served as the critical safeguard that prevented a potentially fatal vehicular collision. 

You had nearly left the house without it, exposing yourself to the inherent vulnerabilities of mortal existence. Had your intuition not alerted you to danger, what potentially devastating consequences might have befallen you and your unborn child?

Moreover, the Dream Lord was conspicuously out of reach even now. 

The possibility of his complete ignorance seemed unlikely, which raised the question of whether he was deliberately keeping his distance regardless of any potential harm you might be subjected to. Considering his previous efforts to secure your happiness, albeit questionable, the notion that he would now stay indifferent seemed implausible. The activation of the Dreamstone would have undoubtedly registered in his awareness, making it impossible for such an event to have escaped his attention.

The pain cut deep, piercing you to your very core.

“Shit, we're fresh out of tea," Hob exclaimed, inspecting the empty cupboard.

Absentmindedly, you asked, “Are we?”

"Seems we've gone through the last of it yesterday. My fault entirely there, Shortcake. Didn't get round to popping out for more."

“Don’t worry about it.”

"We got a shop just 'round the corner, haven't we? I'll head down and fetch us some proper tea."

Your stomach churned. "I'd rather avoid any sort of convenience store for the next ten years, to say the least."

He gave an apologetic smile as he reached for his jacket. "Let me at least do this for you. Been around long enough to know you shouldn't be left unsatisfied after a night like this, yeah?"

You sighed. "Honestly, Hob, I'm fine. It's nearly 3 am."

"And you're still sitting there wide awake. Not to worry, I'll nip down and be back before you know it."

Gathering his wallet and the apartment’s keys, he ran out with determined haste. The door closed with a soft click, followed by the sound of the key turning in its lock, leaving the place enveloped in an oppressive silence.

Exhaustion had taken its toll, leaving you feeling physically and emotionally drained. As you sat there, you lifted the ultrasound image from the coffee table, gently tracing the outline of the small, bean-shaped form. Your lower lip trembled slightly, but you had no tears left to shed, at least for the rest of the night.

As Hob exited the elevator, fatigue evident in his steps, he couldn't erase the sight of you from his mind. Your vulnerable, distraught condition was something he couldn't bear to witness any longer—it was unbearable, heartrending, and you deserved all the happiness the world, if not the entire cosmos, could offer to someone as remarkable as you.

When the building's main entrance closed behind him, a movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. A tall, dark figure stood before the structure, cutting an imposing silhouette with legs slightly apart and hands tucked into side pockets.

His ancient friend's distinctive visage was unmistakable in the dim streetlight, his penetrating gaze reflecting the ambient illumination that cast shadows across his countenance.

Intense anger blazed through Hob as Dream's eyes met his own, seemingly indecipherable. "You got some right nerve showing your face here now, don't you? Where've you been hiding all this time??"

Morpheus, who had once stormed away in rage and abandoned their centuries-old meeting tradition, now stood before Hob with the most devastated expression he had ever seen on the Lord of Dreams.

"You've got no bloody idea what that poor woman's been through."

"I assure you, I am quite aware," Morpheus replied.

"Are you now? Well mate, why don't you tell me what you're planning to do about it? Because it's looking pretty awful from where I'm standing."

Morpheus' head lowered, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Shit. You look absolutely wrecked. What's the point of all this? You're just torturing her and yourself for no good reason."

"No good reason?" His deep voice resonated with a mix of pain and conviction. "Everything I have done was to protect her from harm."

"Yes, brilliant plan. Really working out splendidly, wouldn't you say?"

Once again, the Endless averted his gaze.

"You gonna sit back and watch her fall apart then? Just let her break herself to pieces while you lurk about in the shadows? What's the point of you even coming here if you're not gonna do anything about it?"

"You believe this brings me pleasure? This is far more intricate than you could possibly understand."

"Look, I get it. You found some fancy book of prophecies and now you're all worked up thinking she'll end up cursed or whatnot. But I've been alive long enough to know prophecies aren't always what they seem to be."

"I am doing everything in my power to find a solution, but I must be careful. One wrong move could unravel her entire existence."

Hob let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't you see that's exactly what you're doing? Us humans might need time to heal and all that, but you and I both know bloody well some scars never fade."

Hob raised his hand and pointed upward, indicating the direction of your apartment. "There's this amazing woman up there who's head over heels for you. She needs you right now more than she's ever needed you since the day you met, ‘cause she's—"

He abruptly ceased speaking, composed himself and cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. "We've all got our own paths to walk, don't we? We live, we choose, we think, and sometimes life throws us a right curveball. Sure, she might not have another close shave like this one - really hope not - but there's always other ways people can get themselves into trouble. That's just life, not your doing at all."

Morpheus inhaled silently, closing his eyes. “You speak truly, but this is more than just me, her, or you.”

"So what, you wait 'til she goes off and marries someone else? She's never gonna love any other bloke like she loves you. In fact, I'd bet my left arm she's not gonna fancy anyone else at all. Trust me on this one."

Morpheus attempted to speak but found himself unable to form words. His eyes flickered momentarily, revealing a noticeable redness, visible even in the darkness.

"Come off it now. Can't all be for nothing, can it? You're absolutely mad for her. Why else would you be standin' here lookin’ like someone's kicked your puppy?"

His voice emerged with quiet clarity. "She is my heart, my universe. The very essence of who I am. That is immutable."

"Then let her be your everything. Let her stand by your side and fight together. I don't know what this fucking book is or what sort of evil omen it's got in it, but how can this be better when I see her crumbling every single day? She's cryin' all hours. You should hear her at night, whispering your name in her sleep, or even upon waking."

Dream turned his head, observing the building with contemplative silence. In that moment, Hob could see that he was just as broken—perhaps even more tormented inside—than you could ever be.

He had evolved significantly from the entity who once wagered on Hob's immortality in 1389 and always returned for their centennial meetings to validate his hypothesis about the desire to live. He had transformed beyond his former self, who once reacted with hostility at suggestions of requiring friendship, now embracing emotional openness.

With a final sigh, Hob concluded, "Look, not to be rude, but I best be off. Just do me a favor, yeah? Stop being such an idiot about all this and be her man. Or... whatever the hell you are."

Without awaiting a response, Hob turned and strode away, not wanting to leave you unattended after such a precarious evening that had put both you and your child at risk. But before he could distance himself from the building, Morpheus' voice resonated through the night air, calling his name.

“Hob.”

The man halted and swiveled on his feet, regarding the King of Dreams with deliberate scrutiny.

"Your loyalty to Y/N in my absence has been admirable. Without being asked, you have become her guardian in my stead. For that, you have my gratitude."

"Don't bother with thanks, I do it because I care. If you really want to make it up to me, just do as I said. And love her proper-like, she well deserves it."

Morpheus responded with a subtle nod, yet its significance conveyed a depth of understanding that surpassed mere verbal communication.

This acknowledgment was sufficient validation for Hob's concerns, who offered a satisfied smile before continuing his journey to the store. Dream silently vanished into the darkness of the empty street, leaving behind an imperceptible trail of particles that drifted upward, permeating through your window.

By this time, you had drifted into slumber on the couch, your head gently resting to one side as your grip loosened on the ultrasound image, allowing it to settle onto your lap.

A luminous blue mist descended around you, drifting like gossamer fabric through the air. The atmosphere was rich with an intoxicating blend of sandalwood, white musk, and delicate hints of vanilla.

Through the haze, a solitary crib shaped in your line of sight, positioned centrally amidst spiraling tendrils of dreamlike vapor. Though silence pervaded the scene, subtle movements stirred beneath the blanket within. Curious, you continued forward until you stood before the cradle, your heartbeat resonating through the stillness with a rhythmic, anticipatory cadence.

Inside the crib, an infant lay obscured from view, its features veiled in darkness. With careful movements, you extended your hand toward the blanket, intending to reveal what lay beneath. However, as your fingers made contact with the soft fabric, the entire cradle dissipated into nothingness, leaving your hand suspended in empty, cold air.

Momentarily disoriented, you found yourself transported as the scenery brightened and warmed. The familiar rows of books came into focus, accompanied by the soothing sounds of the library - the scratching of a pen and the whispered rustle of turning pages.

Exhaling, you traversed the corridor that had become a nightly ritual, emerging into the central chamber where Lucienne maintained her desk. The distinguished librarian was seated at her position, examining documents and making annotations with her quill. With her spectacles positioned on her nose and her evident concentration on the task at hand, you considered discretely proceeding elsewhere to avoid disturbing her work.

As expected, though, she soon detected your presence. "Ah, welcome back! How good to see you."

"Likewise, Lucienne. Always a pleasure."

"Please, do have a seat," she said warmly.

Taking out one of the adjacent chairs, you sank into the cushion, instinctively resting your hands protectively over your midsection.

Setting her quill aside and folding her hands over her open tome, Lucienne's smile faltered slightly. "I have some rather interesting news to share. Perhaps we should start with the more... pressing matters first?"

"Please tell me you found something promising. I desperately need it after tonight.”

"Wait, are you all right?" she inquired with her characteristic formality and warmth.

"Yes. Just... tell me what you've got."

“Very well. The good news is that Lord Morpheus has finally come around. He's asked me to assist him in locating the Book of Paradoxes. I assumed he might still have possession of it, as I was unable to find it in our archives. But it seems he quietly returned it to the library just last week.”

“Oh.”

"The book is still present within these walls," she stated matter-of-factly while adjusting her glasses. "According to his lordship, he can not only sense its presence, but hear its call."

"Does the book literally speak, or are you being metaphorical?"

"No metaphor. It would appear that this book has the rather extraordinary ability to whisper."

The book could whisper...

The mysterious echoes that had guided you through the library's labyrinthine passages now took on new significance. Was it possible that the Book of Paradoxes had been attempting to communicate with you in the same manner it did with Morpheus?

You had dismissed those whispers as mere psychological manifestations, attributing them to stress and emotional turmoil. In retrospect, had you given proper consideration to these signals, the current circumstances might have played out quite differently.

Still, such guessess remained purely speculative, as the source of these whispers could not be attributed to the book's influence without conclusive proof.

"Unfortunately, we've hit something of a snag. I've been combing through every tome and reference material at my disposal, even delving into the most archaic texts we have. But this particular volume seems to have developed quite the talent for evasion. Rather sporting of it, really."

"Of course it can't be easy, right?"

She smiled. "I have full confidence that its attempts at concealment will prove ultimately futile. This is The Dreaming. His castle, his rules."

"But this doesn't make sense,” you said. “If he already returned the book, why would he be searching for it now?"

Lucienne pursed her lips as her eyes dropped. "About that... there is another matter we should discuss."

"Wonderful," you grunted. "What else is there now?"

She looked at you intently, measuring her words with care. "I must tell you that his lordship is now informed."

The implications of her statement failed to immediately register in your mind. “Informed?”

"Y/N... he knows about the child," she confessed, her voice carrying both kindness and concern.

The news landed with devastating finality. Even though you were asleep, your physiological response was unexpectedly severe: your extremities grew cold as circulation redirected to vital organs, and your vision blurred as your body struggled to process the inevitable development.

“He does…?”

"I didn't breathe a word. He figured it out himself, really. Like I said, it was quite inescapable.”

“Right.”

"I understand you wished to tell him personally, but in truth, this rather alters the entire equation, doesn't it?"

Your hands tightened over your legs as your throat constricted. "This doesn't change anything, Lucienne. On the contrary, it's making everything worse."

"How do you mean?"

“If he knows, then why the hell hasn't he come to me yet?"

“I—”

"I'm going through hell, Luce. All I want is to have the one I love by my side—the father of my child! Where is he? Why must I endure all this alone?"

"This is precisely why he seeks to consult the book once more. Upon learning of your condition, his priorities have changed. He wants to be present, both for you and the child, but he must first ensure with absolute certainty that he won't endanger either of your lives, regardless of what forces may be at play."

You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and joyless. "How ironic, considering I nearly had a serious accident tonight.”

“What…?”

“Are you telling me he didn't know? That he hasn't noticed? Lucienne, I need to meet with him right now. If he refuses to speak to me, I'll find him myself."

“Wait—”

Rising decisively from your seat, you strode purposefully toward the library's main entrance, knowing it would lead directly to the throne room. You marched forward with unbridled fury, radiating with each step, unsure whether the library would guide you to your intended destination.

"Y/N, I implore you to heed my words!" Lucienne called out.

When you turned to face the librarian, your eyes emanated a brilliant golden light, causing her to falter momentarily in astonishment.

"It's been weeks, and I'm living each day in complete uncertainty about what lies ahead."

"I do understand. But I need to ask you to be patient with him for just a little while longer.”

"How much longer should I wait? Are you suggesting I just twiddle my thumbs until the baby arrives?"

“Of course not. Right now, you and that child are the most important things in all the realms to him. And I can assure you that he loves you more than anything."

You released a trembling breath. "He has a strange way of showing it."

Lucienne's smile softened as she clasped your wrists. "He’s always been particular in how he handles matters of the heart. He's suffering just as deeply as you are. Though he may not show it in conventional ways, his inability to rest speaks volumes about his regret."

"We could face all this together. Why is he avoiding me?"

"While I wouldn't presume to know the precise reason, I can quite say he finds himself utterly paralyzed by shame at the thought of facing you."

Your shoulders slumped in defeat as your heart cracked like thin glass. “What am I supposed to do?”

"All we need is a touch more patience while we locate that book. Once we do, I assure you both shall have the clarity you seek."

“It hurts so much, Luce.”

"I know. But trust that you will not have to bear this burden alone for much longer."

Could you truly place your faith in her promises that the book would provide new insights and revelations? The prospect of remaining silent while Morpheus struggled fruitlessly to decipher the tome seemed increasingly difficult to accept.

Nevertheless, facing this pregnancy without his presence and support was not a viable option worth entertaining.

With a resigned nod, you agreed. "Fine, I'll wait."

Lucienne's expression softened with visible relief as your eyes gradually returned to their natural hue. She observed them thoughtfully, mesmerized by their appearance, while you remained unaware of the metamorphosis.

"Yo Lucienne, you in here somewhere?"

The distinct voice of Mervyn, the Pumpkinhead custodian, resonated through the library stacks as he approached your location.

"Well, if it ain’t the lady of the Dreaming herself. Didn't mean to butt in on your little powwow here," he quipped upon seeing you. “And look at you, growing the next heir to the throne. Congrats, kid.”

"Mervyn," Lucienne admonished.

"What? I'm just stating the obvious here. Can't a working man congratulate somebody without getting the stink eye?"

"Is that a polite way of saying I'm starting to look fat?" you asked with a playful grin.

"Nah, see, that ain't what I meant at all. Jeez, you try to say something nice and look what happens. I was just—"

"Relax, Mervyn. I'm only teasing. It's good to see you, really."

Clearing his throat, he crossed his bony arms across his chest. "Yeah yeah, nice seein’ ya too, toots. Just don’t tell the boss I’m getting all sentimental. So, what’s cooking in the library today?”

"I assume you’re not here for reading material?” Lucienne prompted.

"Eh, Just making my rounds, you know? Checking if any of them wacky dream-things are causing trouble. We ain't got another one of them walking teacups running around, do we? Last thing I need is more overtime cleaning up that mess."

Lucienne gave a measured nod. “Nothing too unusual, aside from a flock of dream-doves turning into riddles mid-flight. They’ve been rather cryptic lately.”

Merv huffed. “Dream logic, I swear. One day I’m fixing cobblestone roads, the next, I’m chasing poetic birds. Ain’t dull, I’ll give you that.”

You smiled. The Dreaming surely wouldn’t be the same without its quirks.

“It’s better than it was, but not what it should be. Not without… you know.” He gestured vaguely, avoiding the words you all knew hung heavy in the air.

"Before I forget, got something rattling around in this pumpkin head of mine. You got a minute to hear me out or what?"

“Sure.”

While they returned to the main table to discuss the ongoing renovations of the Dreaming, you didn’t move, your earlier expression of levity gradually dissolving. Your focus began to waver as visual distortions flickered throughout the library, objects warping and disappearing from view.

To remain grounded in the dream realm, you steadied yourself against a bookshelf, allowing your fingers to trace the tangible texture of a book's spine. The powerful pull of consciousness threatened to draw you back to the Waking World, until a faint whisper echoed from between the rows of books, keeping you rooted on the spot.

Your name was carried on a haunting voice, one that resonated with an unsettling urgency.

"ʸ/ᴺ…”

Neither Lucienne nor Mervyn appeared to notice the sound, their discussion proceeding without interruption.

"ʸ/ᴺ!”

With heightened awareness, your mind fully realigned with your dream form, restoring its complete autonomy. Cautiously, you retreated through the towering shelves of books, scanning your surroundings to determine the source of the whisper.

"ʸ/ᴺ, "ʸ/ᴺ!”

You navigated through the library's passages anew, following the echoing sounds that bounced between corridors and walls. 

“Where are you?” You called out, but the mysterious voice continued to repeat your name from all directions throughout the library.

The situation was disconcerting, but this time, you were intent on pursuing the beckoning.

You navigated the winding pathways, encountering numerous dead ends again and experiencing a growing sense of disorientation as the destination remained perpetually out of reach. You groaned loudly, resting against one of the spiraling staircases, frustrated by this seemingly endless chase.

Suddenly, as you were about to throw in the towel and call it quits, your right hand began emitting a golden glow, causing your skin to become partially translucent, as if you were cradling a bright orb.

Examining the phenomenon, you frowned as your palm created a thread that traced a shimmering line across the library floor. Like Ariadne's thread in Greek mythology, this golden trail served as your beacon, though instead of leading you out of a maze, it seemed to be drawing you deeper into the heart of your questions.

And so, driven by the new path ahead, you navigated along every twist and turn, as it wove through the arrangement of bookshelves in an intricate pattern that followed no discernible logic. Your pace quickened as your pulse thundered within your chest, while the energy steadily ascended towards your elbow. 

It felt like something from a fairytale—like Sarah traversing the Labyrinth to reach the Goblin King's castle through its ever-shifting maze. Yet here you were, already within these castle walls, your heart willingly surrendered to its ruler, hopelessly in love.

As you progressed deeper into the library, the voice grew increasingly pronounced. The golden light extending from your hand intensified, ultimately suffusing the entire aisle in its radiance. Then, you began to run.

Your movements were encumbered by the strange physics of dream-running, where each step required particular effort. Though the surroundings seemed to transmute and resist your advancement, you kept a firm grip on the luminescent thread, using it to propel yourself forward like an anchor line through the magical space. 

And then, at last, your journey reached its end.

The shelves parted to reveal a darkened chamber. At its center stood an ancient wooden pedestal, upon which rested a black tome. Mysterious voices converged around it, their words merging into an indecipherable whispered chorus.

As you entered the room, you half-expected the shelves to seal shut behind you. When no such event transpired, you crept toward the pedestal, clutching the Dreamstone in your hand. Moving closer, your light started to fade, converging into an intricate sigil beneath the tome, one you could not recognize.

The tome bore no markings or identifying features to reveal its provenance. With hesitant trepidation, you reached for the cover's edge, and at the slightest contact, the book sprang open of its own accord.

Before your eyes, the name of the book appeared on the subsequent page, causing your breath to catch in your throat.

Right before your eyes lay the enigmatic tome - the very book of prophetic riddles whose discovery had led to this rift between you and Morpheus, and whose contents had cast such uncertainty over the Dreaming itself.

"At last, we meet," you announced bitterly. "You've caused quite a lot of trouble, you know that?"

In response, the tome emitted what could only be described as an elongated exhalation, an icy breath caressing your face.

"I don't know what you are or why you appeared here. And frankly, I don't care. What I do know is that you must fix what you've broken, or I swear I'll reduce you to ashes with my own hands."

Your curiosity regarding the book’s contents was quite pressing, but your apprehension about what lurked within its pages prevented you from proceeding further.

"Come now, up you go."

Carefully and partially intimidated, you lifted the volume from the pedestal and secured it firmly against your chest. The tome remained silent, as if acquiescing to your authority, its previous mystifying aura now surrendering to your grasp like a child who had just been scolded by their mother.

As you departed the chamber, the path back proved particularly straightforward, as though the previous journey had been merely an illusion. Within moments, you found yourself back at your original position—with no twisting passageways or dead ends—to find Lucienne stationed alone at her desk.

“Luce?”

"Ah, you're still here. I presumed you had returned to waking."

"I was about to, for a moment, but... something caught my attention."

"I see you've discovered a new volume?”

You set the tome upon the table, its obsidian cover absorbing the surrounding light like liquid darkness. "Actually, I think this belongs with you rather than me."

“Oh?”

Lucienne examined the cover, her brows furrowing as she studied its binding. "Curious, it bears no title. I don’t recognize this specific book.”

“It is inside.”

With your assistance, Lucienne carefully opened the book, her composed expression switching to one of amazement as she beheld the elegant vintage script. Her expression transformed into one of pure shock as she turned to meet your gaze, a silent question forming on her lips.

"You found it..." She breathed.

"I don't even know how to explain this," you murmured with a small shrug. "Rather, I'd say the book found me."

Lucienne placed a reassuring hand on your arm, her spectacles catching the light of the library as she regarded you with quiet approval. "You truly are proving yourself to be quite the capable Lady of the Dreaming," she stated with quiet pride.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 (currently reading) Go to Chapter 26 ->

[osaemu]

mini-announcement, i probably won't be posting/interacting over the weekend because i have a big tournament and i'll be spending time with my team !! just a heads up in case you're wondering why i haven't replied to you or your ask yet :,) sorry about that 🤍

cw: discourse under the cut.

i didn't want to have to make this post, but lately i've been receiving a lot of anonymous asks about a certain blog and unfortunately, it's gotten to a point where i feel like i have to address it. don't take this post as being hateful in any way—this is just something i just wanted to get off my chest. this isn't a big deal, so no reblogs either, thanks.

the bottom four asks all came within a span of five minutes, so i think it's a reasonable assumption to make that they were all sent by the same person. as for who that is, i'll get into that at the end of the post.

but first of all, i can say without a doubt that i have a personality of my own. case closed. nobody's actually said how we're similar in any way, so i'll assume these are all from no-lifes who couldn't find anything better to hate on.

second of all, my netflix banner was actually inspired by another blog, who i won't namedrop for the sake of their peace. and either way, our banners don't even look similar, nor do either of us own netflix. x x

and finally, those are actually the two most braindead asks i've ever received. are we copyrighting letters now? does anyone own the letter e?

don't compare blogs/writers—it's never ended well, and it never will.

even after getting these asks, i still didn't say anything about it because.. i don't really care. everyone's entitled to their own opinion, and what you think of me is up to you.

moving on, i think tee left tumblr sometime in between that time and now, and i was told by a mutual that i was mentioned within the post. if i'm being completely honest, i didn't read all of it because we have each other blocked anyways and it was a lot to read through.. so i skimmed over the bit about me, but didn't really see anything of interest, which is why i didn't address it.

i also had anons on at the time, and i did think it was interesting how i didn't receive a single ask about tee from then up until today, about a month later. up until a couple hours ago, i hadn't even thought about her because, again, i don't care. this is tumblr dot com, not my love life. most of the drama here is over pixels anyways, so i don't waste my day thinking about it.

neither of these are particularly interesting, but the fact that you weirdos are still associating me with someone who i'm not even mutuals with is.. not to my liking.

idk what false accounts the second anon's talking about, because i don't go looking for drama. if you need proof, here's how many sideblogs i have... (click the image)

zero!

as for the idea that i'm jealous of tee, i'm perfectly fine with the amount of followers i have now. i've always been open about my satisfaction with my interaction rates, and that hasn't changed.

and obviously, tee's a good writer—when have i ever said otherwise? if it was based solely off of writing, i would say that she deserves every single one of her followers, maybe even more. i don't think anybody on this app would disagree with me when i say that she's genuinely one of the best fanfic writers i've come across.

however, i won't support someone just because i like their content. i've stopped listening to many artists because i didn't like who they were as a person, and similarly, once i read the reblogs on a certain callout post, i stopped consuming tee's content as well.

there's a reason i avoided making this post in the past—because i don't really have anything to say. tee and i have never had a directly negative interaction, as i'm sure you all can see in her archival post. the reason i don't support her anymore is because i didn't particularly like how she never spoke up about her followers sending death threats to other followers. that's it.

while i have my guesses as to who sent those anons, i don't care enough to find out. and i think it's better that way. this conflict's been dragged on for long enough, and this is my way of saying that i'd like to be excluded from this narrative from now on.

tee, if someone sends you this post at some point, feel free to contact me if you'd like to clear anything up. we're both adults, and i think we can agree that nothing monumental has happened between us to cause any of this. honestly, the only people dragging this on are the weirdo anons in my inbox.

to whoever's reading this post, thank you for listening to my side of the story—it was nice to be able to get this off my chest. wish me luck at my tournament, and i'll be back after the weekend !! 🤍

[oddfoxstudio]

ATTENTION ALL CAPTAIN LASERHAWK FANS I HAVE JUST NOTICED TWO VERY,VERY,VERY,BIG THINGS I'VE SEEN NO ONE TALK ABOUT IN THE S1 FINALE!

Also,b4 I forget,

!!SPOILERS FOR S1 EP6 OF CAPTAIN LASERHAWK A BLOOD DRAGON REMIX!!!!CLICK OFF NOW TO AVOID GETTING SPOILED!!!!!!

Now,with that out of the way,I would like to direct(pun intended) everyone's attention towards the scene where Ramon slaughters the board of directors. Now we all know that he did almost kill all of them. All but one. The Director who is represented with the odd looking E.

Absolutely,we're all losing our shot over who this is. Did they send Ramon the message to talk to Bullfrog? What will they do now that the rest of the board is dead? Will they be an upcoming enemy? Well,I'm here to tell you that the answer to that last question is YES.

'But Odd,how on Eden's racist capitalistic shit hole do you know this?'

Because we see this EXACT E LATER ON IN THE EPISODE. More specially,near the end where it's revealed that Sarah Fisher(or some part of her anyway)is a fully robotic spider-thingy. Now,when you watch the show for the first time,this reveal could distract you from the little details hidden away. I for one didn't even notice this until tonight,when I was watching the last episode out of boredom and because I love this show sososososo much! But now for the big reveal....

(I apologise for the lack of quality,this was taken from my tv cuz i don't have Netflix)

Yes,my dear reader,that is the exact as E as the missing director of board on the back of the Sarah Robots head.

Ladies,gentlemen,those between and out,Sarah Fisher was not only the warden of super maxx,but apart of the BOARD OF DIRECTORS!

But this only bring me to my next pint as,what this isn't Sarah at all? We know that the directors did some very much FUCKED up SHIT when they were alive. So,what if they didn't make Sarah a cyborg? What if,they transferred her consciousness into this robot? And what if she's not alone? It is here I present that this robot is kinda of similar to the mimic from fnaf. And if you don't know who the mimic is,they're a robot that was designed to look after a child,got beaten when the kid died and has learnt violent behaviours from humans resulting in them doing more horrendous violence back. Anyways,I propose that this robot was made to be a helper of sorts towards Eden-more specificallyin the military-only,the board couldn't be bothered programming an AI to be this robot. So what did they do? They transferred human minds into the robot to help it learn how to help when fighting. Only something went wrong. When Sarah's mind was transferred into the robot,it glitched out. It felt all of her agony,her pain,and her wondering if her dad was right. If she should rebel. The robot did what it was suppose to do too well. The robot ACTUALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE SARAH FISHER. Obviously,parts of the robot were aware they were not,but the robot was insanely good at pretending. I made this comparssion to the mimic bc what if this robot learnt not only to copy Sarah's behaviours,but others too? Perhaps even,someone from the board of directors? That is how this robot COULD be the same person who called Ramon. It MIMICKED THAT PERSON'S VOICE!!!!

Of course,that is only a theory,

An ODDLY INSANE THEORY!

See you on the flipside everyone!! God,I p8ve making fnaf references! Also Ill talk abt the other thing tmrw,this already took me over 30 MINUTES and phone is abt to die lol. Buh-byeeee!!!!!

[drowninginredink]

How did it take me until April 3, 2024 to realize that Lemony Snicket is absolutely a trans woman and someone needs to get her some E, stat?

- Lemony is always, always, always hiding her face. Well... okay they cut it from Netflix, but in the books and movie, the most iconic thing about Lemony is that in every photograph, she's managed to hide her face. And yes, allegedly that's to hide her identity, but like... Is it? Or is that an excuse and really Lemony just does not like her face because it's too masculine? God knows most pre-transition folks hate being photographed

- Have you seen the way she talks about Beatrice? Have you read that letter from The Beatrice Letters? "Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you is even colder," "I cherished, you perished, the world's been nightmarished," "When we first met, you were pretty and I was lonely. Now I am pretty lonely." Straight men do not write about women like that. Lesbians do. Especially that letter. Do you think that a straight man wrote "I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you next Tuesday" or "I will love you until the chances of us running into one another slip from skim to zero, and until your face is fogged by distant memory" or "I will love you if you don’t marry me. I will love you if you marry someone else – your co-star, perhaps, or Y., or even O., or anyone Z. through A., even R. although sadly I believe it will be quite some time before two women can be allowed to marry?" Absolutely not. Those are obviously the words of a lesbian.

- Pretty much everyone important in Lemony's life is a woman. All of the people closest to him: Beatrice, Kit, R, Moxie, and Ellington. Sure, he does interact with other people, but those are the 5 closest relationships indicated by the text. Obviously you can be a man with all female friends, but how many times has a "man" always gotten along better with women and ended up not being a man.

- The audiobooks are (mostly) read by Tim Curry, and we all know he plays a pretty famous transsexual

- Lemony strikes me as very self-sabotaging. Now, this is my own opinion. One could believe that all of the mess that Lemony is in is purely VFD's fault. Maybe VFD forced her to take the blame for Olaf's crimes and generally end up buried so deep in accusations that she had to fake her own death and go on the lam. However, I can see an absolutely self-hating Lemony who volunteered to take on the role that she did. Who chose to be the fall guy. And why would she hate herself so much? Dysphoria. A deeply dysphoric and closeted woman who figures that since she isn't happy with herself, she might as well be the one to have her life ruined by the schism. That way all the actually happy and good people don't need to have their potential ruined.

- Similarly, Lemony never actually jumps in to save the Baudelaires, merely writing about them from afar. She is, to put it bluntly, a coward. She tells herself she's doing something to help them, but won't intervene in the way they really need. Why not? Because she's so deep in self-loathing! Again, that could just be because of her failures in life, but like... What if she also hates herself because of repressed dysphoria?

- Lemony is just generally really, really, really, really sad. And look, I know I'm aromantic as hell, but do we really think that's *just* because she lost the love of his life? Or do we think maybe something else is making her that gloomy?

- Look I just really want Lemony to have a way to be happy. And there's no bringing Beatrice back. But. HRT? Sure. I bet there's HRT in the snicketverse. Why not? I take the reading that Beatrice and Bertrand had Violet at like 20, which makes Lemony only like 35. He's 35, and yet she's completely given up on life. She is just a shelll of a person. She doesn't actually interact with anyone and spends all her time researching terrible things that happen. She's too young to be resigned to misery. I want Lemony to have a way to be reborn and find some form of happiness again. Thus, I would like to blame some of her misery on living as a man, and propose that transition could save her.

- Again. Lemony hates pictures and doesn't like to show her face. Give her some FFS! Stat!

- Come on. Beatrice and Lemony are an iconic couple. You cannot tell me that if given the choice, you want them to be M/F when they could be F/F

Okay. I rest my case. Now to submit to @couldtransitionsaveher

[lostfirefly]

You’ve Got the Same Dream as Me (Ch.6)

Hello, kiddos! The idea for this fanfic came to me from a dream (again) I had about a month ago. Тhe main characters were Tom Cruise and Henry Cavill (don't ask me why), but with a light hand they have been replaced (sorry, guys). The main action of the dream took place somewhere in the sands. Аlthough this fanfic will feature Sir Crocodile and our beloved Buggy, the action shifts to the desert. No marines, ships etc. Sorry, not sorry :) The devil fruit's abilities are preserved. Catch the Mummy and Indiana Jones vibes :) I have no idea how many chapters there will be. Different titles and names from the original source material will be used to emphasise the general OP's vibe.

Since English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :) 

And thank you to my dear @yujo-nishimura and @laurasoretta for believing in me :)

Description: Catherine, a librarian who is searching for the trail of her sister who went missing on an expedition. Notes in books and diaries lead her to Cairo. There she finds a retailer from an artifact shop who, in exchange for selling her a map and equipment, insists that Catherine take her along. They get into a little (or maybe a big) adventure.. 

Warnings: One light naughty joke. Adventures and fun are still here. Buggy x OC, Sir Crocodile x OC.

It's hard to create riddles, guys! :) I wanted to make this part bigger, but what was written next already sounds like a separate chapter. Sorry! :) Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Words: 1301

The title is taken from «You've Got the Same Dream as Me» (Sonya Belousova & Giona Ostinelli) (One Piece, Netflix)

Taglist: @gingernut1314 (if someone wants to be added to this list, let me know!)

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

• Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

"Quiet, we’ll wake her up!" Buggy whispered. 

"Come on, let’s do it one more time, pl-e-e-ease!"

Rika opened her eyes upon hearing the voices. She stared at the wall of sand and squeezed her eyes shut.

"God, let me turn around and see them dressed!" 

She turned around cautiously and opened one eye.

Catherine was sitting on her knees next to Buggy and holding his detached wrist in her hands. Literally. She could barely contain the delight in her voice. 

"Good morning, folks", Rika opened both eyes, raised her back and leaned against the sandy wall. "I don’t even want to ask what you are doing and why he’s already wearing fresh makeup.. But.. Can I ask? Have you been doing this nonsense all morning?"

Rika yawned as she watched Buggy quickly grab his wrist and reattach it to the rest of his hand. 

"Not really!" Catherine jumped up from her seat and ran to the car. "We've been studying maps and diaries, thank goodness we still have that". 

"A-a-a-and did you find anything out?" Rika squinted. 

"Actually, yes! Look, there are rocks or something like that. Painted here and here. Buggy says this is the Skypiea Sand Mountains. That's where we need to go.. in theory.. and that's where it looks like we're going.. in theory.. . And there's one thing I can't figure out. North should be there, but the compass points the other way", she pointed her fingers in different directions. 

"Let me see", Rika took the compass. "There's one thing I don't understand. Why that man, whatever-his-name-was just handed that thing over. And he smiled in that weird way. He didn't look helpless to me". 

"Oh, believe me, honey, he’s not helpless. He used to train me and.. whatever... on Rusukaina… And he.."

"He did what?? Do you know him?" Rika interrupted him, her eyes widened. 

"Yeah! Some kind of… And trust me, he can kick anyone's ass", Buggy said, laying back down.

"He can kick anyone’s ass", Catherine repeated his words with a sneer. "Then why didn't your all-powerful grandfather kick that man with the beehive instead of his arm?"

"First of all, it was the hook. Second, I don't know about that, my little pie. Maybe he had some kind of secret plan. Maybe he wanted me to save you so you could admire almighty Buggy the Clown for the rest of your life". 

Catherine rolled her eyes. 

"Or maybe he knows something. Look at this. There's an inscription in the diary, but it's in ancient Egyptian", said Rika, beckoning them both with her hand, "but I’m not good at it".

"Lemme see", Catherine grabbed the diary. "Give me a second.. Glass.. Key.. Light.. Way.. let the glass be your main key, choose completely the wrong way, when the sun starts shining brightly, you should follow… the northern light?"

"Can you read ancient Egyptian?" Rika asked.

"I can do a lot of things, does this surprise you?" Catherine snapped. "Well, sometimes I spend my evenings at home with books after work at the library". 

"God! You have a very boring life, you know that?" Buggy said, putting his hands under his head.

"Shhh, silly clown!" she made a hand gesture for him to shut up. "Look, there's a drawing. I don't understand. Some kind of hexagon". 

Buggy widened his eyes, then he stood up abruptly, correcting his ponytail and walked briskly to the car.

"Hey, where are you going?" Catherine got up and ran after him, holding the map and diaries in her hands. "Hey, I'm talking to you!".

She approached Buggy, who was rummaging through the boot of the car. 

"Does it look like what you've got painted on there?" he was holding a small box.

"Hell, yeah! Rika, come here, quick. Where did you get this from?" Catherine called Rika over with her hand and put the map on the car. 

"Weeeell.... I stole it from Crocodile a couple of months ago", Buggy said, scratching his head.

"What do you mean you stole it and what do you mean a couple of months ago?" Rika asked, coming up behind him.

"Well, I was in these places not too long ago, met our old friend and stole this thing, hoping I might need it someday. Although, to be honest, I've no idea what it is".

"Do you always have such brilliant plans? Do you just go out and steal everything like a fucking kleptomaniac?" Catherine looked at him, squinting her eyes. 

"God, when you two are out of each other's lives, I swear I'll celebrate that day with a bottle of whiskey. Can you focus, please?" Rika barked and took the box from Buggy's hands. "Look. The pattern of this thing repeats here, here and here. But here and here these drawings are crossed", she poked at places on the map. 

"Maybe it's some kind of key? But a key to what? To treasure?" Catherine shifted her gaze from the box to the map. 

"If this thing opens the door to gold, I'll even take some money, take you to a party and then buy you ice cream, Cathie-pie", Buggy wanted to sit on the boot of the car with a proud look, but he missed and fell on the sand. 

"You see? This is God's punishment for your long tongue and stupid jokes", said Catherine mockingly.

"Oh, baby! Believe me, you'd be happy to have my tongue between yo.,.", he didn't have time to finish his sentence as Catherine kicked him in the leg, "Ouch! Hey! Fuck.."

"You two! Shut up! And so... We've got a map, a compass, notes, and apparently the key. Not bad. I think", Rika put the box back in the boot and looked at the compass she held in her hand. 

"This doesn't make any sense. And the lines in the diary don't make sense either. Let the glass be your main key, choose completely the wrong way, when the sun starts shining brightly, you should follow the the northern light. What does the northern light have to do with it? Where does the northern light come from in the desert? And what does it have to do with the wrong way?" Catherine flailed her arms and flopped down next to Buggy and laid her head on his shoulder. 

Rika sat down in front of them and stared intently at the compass.

"I don't know, my friend, I don't know", she raised the compass to eye level. "Wait, look!"

Buggy and Catherine crawled up to her. 

"Do you see?" Rika asked in surprise.

"I see nothing!" Buggy muttered under his breath. 

"Look at that!"

All three of them put their faces to the compass and squinted at each other.

"It's impossible!" Catherine whispered this.

They saw a green-orange beam inside the compass. 

"Maybe I’ll say something stupid now.. But.. If it's the compass, it should point the way, right?" Buggy asked in a clarifying tone. "So, what if you point it at the map?". 

All three of them got to their feet. The green-orange coloured sunbeam falling on the glass of the compass fell on the map, pointing the way. 

"Сatherine, what was that you said about going back and north? According to the compass, we have to go to some other north, but it's not geographical", Rika didn't take her eyes off the beam.

"When the sun starts shining brightly", Catherine repeated quietly.

"Now the sun is at its zenith. And the northern lights are the colour of this beam, I think", Rika kept her gaze on the compass. "You see It's clearly drawn a path for us to follow. And look at the diary. Theoretically, the coordinates there should match the coordinates on the map. At least I think so", Rika whispered quietly. 

"Ladies, we've got a course!"

[acescorazon]

Hiiii not really a question, just wanted to say that I discovered your fics recently on Ao3 and they're all my absolute favourite since then, I'm always looking forward to receiving an email saying that you posted something!!! I just joined Tumblr today and I have no idea how it works ahah but I'm so glad I can follow you there now, because you truly are one of my fav fic writers. Your Buggy is always absolutely perfect and he did not help with my obsession over his character eheh. Anyway, thank you for your good work, and know that the way you write Buggy influences me a lot on how I perceive him and how he acts in my AU (not actually writing anything, just creating little world in my head eheh). Oh and also: it's thanks to you that I now ship Buggy with Mihawk and Crocodile! Since I've only seen the live action, I didn't really know enough about Mihawk and, obviously, nothing about Crocodile; but because of your fics I now ship them SO much. Thanks to you, Buggy has 3 boyfriends in my AU and he's very glad ahah. Anyway, it's a long message for nothing but I guess the most important thing here is: thank you, keep your amazing work <3

I'M ABOUT TO WRITE THE SHIT OUT OF THIS RESPONSE.

Hiiiiiiii bbyyy :((( Thank you for writing me something so nice! I really appreciate it!!! Nice comments and asks like these really make my day and i mean that!! Thank you!!! Tumblr is shit (derogatory) but it could be worse, it could be tw- Jk it's not that bad here and i think you'll like it :) Also ofc thank you for the follow :) Thank you for everything really! I could write an essay on Buggy alone but i won't...not today at least kljlsdjksdjlakjsdasdas. nobody asked but i'm obsessed with the idea of Buggy being a brat and or just a little shit in general which is why i often write him the way i do LMAO. He's a funny little guy, and i love him in the live action as much as i love him in the anime/manga but i think he could be a little more pathetic. i do remember seeing the trailer tho and being like "lol" but two seconds later being like..."Idk...WHY'S HE KINDA..." LMAOOOOO. i don't know if you write or draw but if you do, then you should cook something up. ((We support and encourage others in this household.)) also bestie. B E S T IE. Best friend. i ain't telling you how to live your life but if you have access to the Shounen Jump app wherever you live and you got 2.99 (some of us don't, no hate here.) and if you got some time, then i recommend you read a little story called one piece LMAOOOO. I ain't one of those people who will tell you it gets good in ch/ep 80938423984023984023948 lol. i've liked it since the beginning but thats ME. You ain't gotta read or watch all of that shit to know if something's good and if you like it lmao, or at least that's how i feel. anyways it seems like it takes 80 years to get through but that's really only bc of the pacing in the anime lol, it comes out weekly and ofc the animation studio wouldn't want to catch up with the actual manga sooooo they act a lil sily in terms of pacing LMAO. it's still that bitch in my opinion though, but that's my opinion and you can see that it has 1000+ episodes and be like ..."i aint watching all that shit." LMAO FAIR. IT'S GOOD THO. BOTH THE ANIME AND MANGA ARE GOOD!!! and they both have their pros and cons when it comes to consuming them. ANYWAYYYYYYS. yeah if you have like, time, 2.99, And the shounen jump app is available wherever you are (also u can go to like Viz's official website and your shounen jump subscription will carry through there too :) ) THEN I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THE PIECE!!! (btw you can read 100 chs A DAY of op or they have other mangas too bby YEEEEEE) or if you have time then i also recommend watching the anime its... it's that bitch, i don't know. If you do end up liking it then netflix can help you take a nice bite out of the series, there's also like funimation/crunchyroll... or... *whispers* there are other...ways...to watch the anime....*whispers* ...are you a cop? LMAOOOOOO.

It's really good though with a whole bunch of lovable characters that the live-action doesn't even begin to be able to get into. you didn't ask, you didn't ask, but me personally, my favorite arc is Alabasta, which is the place they should be going to next season in the live action!! it also introduces one of my favorite little villains: Crocodile!!! idk i love it and i love him LOLLLL which i shouldn't bc he's...he's not a good man but i'm 26 i'm allowed to like toxic anime men, i've earned that right. (also you can like things and criticize them/acknowledge their flaws.) ANYWAYS, ANYWAYS, I'M RAMBLING, but yeah, it's good eating, and i highly suggest you get into the actual series if you liked the live action because the series itself is more in depth. Plus, P L U S, there's more Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy content AND THATS A WIN TO ME. lajsldajskdajsdlasjd. it's fun and as an added bonus there's a sense of community and you can always come back here and scream your thoughts to me (and everyone else) if you like it. Like i'm honored by your compliments but nothing i write could ever compare to the actual series itself LOLLLLL.

ANYWAYS THANKS SO MUCH!!!! ILYYYYY!!! I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY, A GOOD WEEK, A GOOD YEAR!!!!!!!!!! MUAH!!!!!

[here-be-misfit]

if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Oh that's a good question, hard one too, so prepare for wall of text. 😂

Before i dive into answering the question i have to say that music, movies/tv series or books only show part of me. And again it's hard for me to say because i have personality disorder and that's where it gets tricky, while yes, media and books did and still do form me as a person they only give you a small glimpse and i'm not sure if it would make someone really understand me. To actually understand me a person would need to talk to me personally, also to know history of my country and know what was happening in Europe and in my country when i was growing up, to know a lot about mental illnesses and disorders and adhd and autism and abuse. Because all these things contributed a lot to who i am today.

Now back to the question. I'll start with music because music is a big thing in my life. Nightwish, Avantasia, Edguy and Rammstein are the bands that had the biggest impact on me and still do. Especially lyric wise. Oomph!, Iron maiden, Satyricon, Taake, Arch Enemy, Amon Amarth, Tarja, Faun, Corvus Corax, E nomine, Wintersun, Twisted Sister, Queen, Wardruna, Lord of the lost, Hardline, Triptykon, Rotting Christ, Eluveitie, Eivor, Manegarm, Heilung, Beast in Black, Battle beast.... All these bands and many more are something that a person should listen to in order to understand parts of me. I also want to mention Michael Jackson as his music was and still is a big thing in my life and even when i was in my early teens and didn't understand English well, i vibed with his music so well and i liked him as a musician and felt connection too. Then i also want to mention Lady Gaga, Hayley Kiyoko and pop music in general. I wasn't raised metalhead from my childhood and for almost up until 15 years i mainly listened to pop music and even know i do sometimes because some songs are just way too relatable.

Now movies/tv series. I grew up with LoTR movies mostly but also The Matrix and Harry Potter. Lord of the rings had the biggest impact on me tho. I've watched so many movies that it's hard to actually name all of them. Schindler's list, Shawshank redemption, Monster house, Spirited away, Howl's Moving Castle, some of Marvel movies like Iron Man or Thor, Insidious, The Witch, Gladiator, Ratatouille, Repo: The genetic opera, The handmaiden, Millennium. That's all i can remember for now. Now tv series. Sherlock, The Vikings, Loki, Peaky blinders, Game of thrones, Our flag means death, Netflix Ragnarok, His dark materials, Stranger things, Westworld, Hannibal, Halt and catch fire, Twin peaks.

And now books, so as i said i grew up with LoTR movies but before that it was books for me, so i became a lover of Tolkien stuff at very early age. Of course Harry Potter too, i have all 7 books but they never made that huge impact as LOTR did. His dark materials trilogy, Silva rerum books, Dracula by Bram Stoker, Forest of the gods by Balys Sruoga, The trial by F. Kafka, The gospel of Loki by J.M. Harris, Dina;s book trilogy, Name of the rose by U. Eco, Foucault's Pendulum by U. Eco, Americon gods by N. Gaiman, The dark tower series by S. King, Petro imperatorienė by K. Sabaliauskaitė. I think that's about it.

Sorry for such a big wall of text but i can't respond to this any differently. 😅

[opiazapine]

My late night rant about seasonals before I experience pain and suffering tomorrow (going to my old program 2 hours away by bus to do bureaucrat shit for my housing)

Spring 2025 beginning episodes in order of whatever came to mind first~

#1. Witch Watch

I think it has potential

After watching 5 episodes I think the potential is only growing. Not sure it will be a favorite or not, but it is both funny and visually pleasing. Every episode has 3-4 mini stories that complete themselves by the end of the runtime. This episode structure isn't seen too often anymore, and I like it.

#2 Shoishimin (second season)

I don't remember what was happening or where we are in this story. The animation is good.

I've rewatched the first 5 episodes and am enjoying it a lot so far. It takes some time to get used to. It's not as bold of a mystery story as another title airing this season, but a subtle one that creeps up unexpectedly. I'm anticipating E6.

#3 Old Country Bumpkin to Sword Master

It was OK. There was some CGI use but it wasn't very noticeable. The story feels kind of generic, but it's not an isekai as usual so I'm kind of interested.

It's still pretty generic 5 episodes in. But I don't dislike it. I'll keep watching.

#4 Anne Shirley

It's an adaptation of Anne of Green Gables. I wondered if it would follow the movie/ book faithfully,  because I remember it being somewhat dark when I read it as a child. I expected it would probably downplay or remove a lot of these scenes and it did. I think it's like an opportunity for the animators to show what they can do. Sometimes the animation reminded me a lot of Kill la Kill which was funny. I don't know why I'm watching this otherwise TBH.

The animation has kept up in both quality and surprises (pleasant ones.) The only issue I have is a lot of the bullying was removed, and I recall that being central to the story. Or maybe some of those scenes were traumatic to watch as a child. Lol

#5 Rock is a Lady's Modesty

I thought it would be good. It's not.

I retract this statement after 4 more episodes... It's fine. I do think it would look a lot better with less CGI. Nice music.

#6 A Ninja and Assassin Under One Roof (NinKoro)

I approached it hesitantly, and despite that it didn't take more than the first 2 episodes to hook me. It's a good comedy, with yuri. What more can I ask for

#7 Uchuujin Muumuu (Alien Muumuu)

I had no idea what this would be about. It's actually about a lot of things. Cats. Aliens. Space. Electronic components. How Things Work. Cute girl does cute things. Cute cats do cute things. I think it would overwhelm or underwhelm most people. I like weird shows like this. The visuals are interesting, too.

#8 Apocalypse Hotel

A very slow first episode that quickly developed into something great in it's next 4. Hoping the buildup will be worth it, although I don't think I have much to worry about. It seems very solid, no telltale signs of production issues or plot holes. It's a simple plot to begin with, but there is something charming about it. I wonder if it will keep getting better and better?

# 9 Lazarus

It's a good show. I don't know what more to say. Sometimes something is good enough that I don't feel like words matter that much, or I should say they won't do it any justice. It's a lot like Cowboy Bebop, no surprise there. I don't think it's so similar that it can't be enjoyed as a story of it's own. It shares all the things I loved about Cowboy Bebop with very few weak points.

#10 Moonrise

I'm 10 episodes in. I think a lot of people made a mistake by binge watching all 18 episodes immediately after Netflix released them. The plot jumps around a lot, which makes it hard to keep track of different events if you don't pay close attention. I rewatched E 4-10. The first 3 were much more cut and dry. Then things get complicated. I have the impression the story was designed for a multi season series, maybe even something as long as Naruto (the original series) or Hunter x Hunter. Yet it was condensed into just 18 episodes. It wasn't trimmed well. I wonder why Netflix couldn't give them 24-26 episodes at least, after spending so much time in development? I guess years spent in development is a red flag for problems in production. It's still worth watching despite this, especially for sci-fi anime lovers like me.

[strawberryseeded]

i spent the weekend watching various horror movies in netflix (my moms accnt obvs) cos i was too lazy to pir/ate anything. i watched uuh.. konferensen 2023 (it was fine, it was a good time), split 2016 (p good imo tho the superhuman angle was kinda silly to me. but it was interesting. solid. ending was a bit unsatisfying tbh? and the msg quite confusing? like i geddit, empowered victims.. but the kidnapper ended up becoming a perpetrator too? and the fl didnt shoot him in that crucial moment AND they also didnt show what she ended up doing abt her uncle. idk if the plan was 2 make a sequel but it all ended up coming off as.. pretty lukewarm..), the stepfather 2009 (nice. rly straight foward w the premise tho not super focused w its message.. like it was abt family but it gave too much focus to the protags gf? which i thought was a bit juvenile like we get it they are teens in love now lets get back to the dude trying to murder the whole family please.. also i kept thinking the story wud have been fun from the mothers perspective as well.. oh and a bit more bg & development for the killer wud hv been stellar), monster 2023 (indonesian) (plot was p standard (rly reminded me of that free ice cream horror flash game) but i rly liked it visually! rly cool scenography!! it almost had no dialogue & that was rly refreshing and interesting. it really didnt need any), and today i watched longlegs 2024 w my sister (which i did pirat/e)..uuuuummm... ok SPOILERS for longlegs

i rly liked the way it was filmed n the photography. also the music/sound dsgn. the time setting was confusing as hell for me tho?? like idk im not usamerican but the story supossedly took place in the 2000s but it all looked like the 70s to me???? and there are big differences between the 2 eras its not like im THAT period blind. the only scene i thought oh yeah theres no way this is the 70s is a scene in which you can see computers in the bg but anyways. the movie.

it started off GREAT. very eerie.. i had no clue abt the plot or anything btw i went into it completely blind.. so i had no idea if the movie was going for a realistic angle or a more supernatural angle. it rly reminded me of it follows 2014 not bc the fl was played by the same actress (it was) but bc everything that was happening seemed not quite real. like a dream. i loved that..

so ok. its p clear from the beginning that something is p weird (supernatural weird) abt this whole thing. the fl makes my suspicions grow bc shes some sort pf psychic so i though ok the killer is def some kind of hypnotist. i was wrong tho, whatever. lets skip a lot of stuff. plot twist it was the devil all along. i felt kinda silly bc im usually p good/fast understanding movies (esp this type of movies) but i was so confused by the end of this.. i was like huh.. wait what do you mean the devil is real in this story. it was rly easy to catch onto that btw i was just still expecting a psychic weirdo killer angle idk maybe i liked that idea more deep down lol? but it wasnt so my sister was like dude are you serious the devil was right there in one scene and i was like what. she went back to that scene. the devil was right there. oh ok. wait then what about the scene in which the mother shoots the dolls head why did she do that if the deal wasnt over. and what about the surviving victim why did she kill herself after the ball was out of the dolls head. oh god i almost forgot what abt the chief(?)s (no ok i literally cnt remember either his name nor job title im so sorry. yanno lees boss) did not even ONCE say smt like "oh hey my daughter has the same age n bd date than all the other daughters from the victim families. thats peculiar. lets take some measures maybe?" like forget that last part, why wasnt this even BROUGHT UP. another ridiculous thing abt this was the "birthday party" lee was invited to if thats even what you can call it.. most of the movie i was waiting for an actual party, with lots of people (STAKES, yknow?) but lee was literally the only person invited apparently?? what was up w that. also why didnt the fl shoot the dolls head at the bd party in the first place why did she wait until the dad started killing ppl. also the deal was supposed to end with the 13th victim i think so why did the mother say she will keep killing. me & my sister concluded well idk lets sleep on it i guess. yeah.

overall enjoyable and interesting, but i feel like the plot-twist reveal and the ending were a bit idk rushed?? like ill be quite honest i didnt feel anything abt the mother being the accomplice???? it was good in concept but was a bit lacking in execution.. like. why shud i even care.

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

097 of 2024

1. Were you named after anybody? Kind of, after my grandpa.

2. What is your gender? Male.

3. What country were you born in? Belgium.

4. How tall are you? 5'11 = 180cm.

5. Eye color? Grey, but actually more hazel.

6. What year did you or are you going to graduate high school? I graduated in 2009.

7. Energy drink, tea, or coffee? Neither, caffeine triggers my neurological disorder.

8. What is one thing that annoys you? Two-faced people.

9. Do you prefer even or odd numbers? Even.

10. What is your spirtuality/religion? I'm agnostic, always looking for answers.

11. Do you have any pets? One cat. Used to have more in the past.

12. Do you own or rent your own place? Rent, unfortunately.

13. Are you right or left handed? Ambidextrous with some left hand preference. Plot twist: my left hand is disabled.

14. Alt-rock or hip-hop? Hip hop. Or metal, not really rock.

15. Phone games or video games? Phone games.

16. Snapchat or Instagram? Instagram. I have an account dedicated to my photography, but it hasn't been updated in a while.

17. Long or short hair? Long. I have short hair, but I used to have long hair and I'm thinking of growing it back.

18. How many pillows do you have on your bed? Three for me and one for my husband.

19. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No, I don't. Never did.

20. Flip flops or runners? Neither, really.

21. Do you work out at the gym? I used to, but as a form of getting back to mobility.

22. Pen or pencil? Gel pen please.

23. How old are you? I'm 34.

24. Do you like Harry Potter? Never had much interest in it, and I lost my respect for the author anyway.

25. Netflix or TV? Both. I love British TV.

26. Favorite ED movie? None, I'm not a movie person.

27. Fish or meat? Fish, 100%.

28. Do you sleep in silence or do you need something on? I need the TV or at least the radio. I hate silence.

29. Are you afraid of the dark? Kind of. Not really afraid, but I find it kinda unsettling.

30. Day or night? Day. Particularly mornings.

31. Coloring or drawing? Drawing, but I'm not that talented.

32. What is your favorite past time? Shortwave radio & signal identification, and photography. Also trainspotting.

33. Do you own a smart watch or activity tracker? No, I don't.

34. Do you wish you could be taller? Yes. I think my height is rather average for a man.

35. What is one thing you really want right now? To go on a road trip with my husband. No chance, though :P

36. Do you like dollar stores? I think we have only Action, Zeeman and Wibra, and I only go to Action.

37. Do you prefer online shopping or shopping in stores? Online, especially for clothes. Groceries I like to do in person.

38. Have you ever broken a bone? No, never. My bones are ridiculously strong.

39. Do you make friends easily? Nah, I need time to trust someone and to call them a friend. Quality over quantity, too.

40. Texting or phone calls? Texting, but I hate both.

41. Do you have a tumblr? Yeah, I do. Three blogs in total.

42. Do you prefer e books or actual books? Paperback books. I only buy ebooks if I cannot find a paperback anywhere.

43. Poetry or prose? Prose.

44. Can you sing well? I can sing somewhat, but if it's good or not, I have no idea.

45. Do you like cleaning? Nah. Only some chores are doable for me.

46. Do you have a skin care routine? Currently I only put special antiperspirant cream on my face as a 7 days long therapy.

47. Do you miss being younger? Yeah, I do. I miss being a teenager.

48. Did you/do you do well in school? Yes and no. Best grades from the subjects that are interesting to me, barely passing the subjects I find boring.

49. House or condo? House. Preferably with big garden.

50. Any phobias? Yeah, I'm emetophobic. I also fear the sound of pendulum clocks.