#they all seemed very rational about things

[shinobicyrus]

It's not just a lack of trust in science, it's a lack of trust of institutions that has been growing. You ever notice, though, that this lack of faith only seems to affect specific products of these industries, rather than the industries themselves?

Anti-vaxxers will often talk about corruption and greed of big pharma and the medical establishment...but mostly as a vehicle to rail against vaccines, rather than the objectively corrupt things those industries do, such as how they spend more on advertisement and stock buybacks than say...the actual research and development of medicine. This is also observed in anti-abortion and anti-trans healthcare circles: a big evil greedy corpo-medical establishment profiting from these "harmful" things like women's healthcare of puberty blockers.

The TikTok ban is another great example, because all of the accusations levied against TikTok: misinformation, addictive design, its affects on mental health, data mining, and algorithms are all things that every social media company does...but with TikTok it's bad because its owned by foreigners.

Once you see the pattern you see it everywhere. The same people who are very critical of the United States providing weapons to Ukraine will talk about the corruption of the Pentagon and weapons manufacturers...but will staunchly support American weapons being supplied to Israel. Climate change deniers will accuse climate scientists as being "biased" and "paid-off" because they work within a flawed university system only to completely ignore that oil companies have had the same data for literal decades and actively suppressed it. Solar panels and wind turbines are part of this new "scam" green energy industry. Oil companies though? That means energy independence and jobs; don't you fucking dare criticize fracking.

There is a lot of growing populism against institutional corruption and the status quo, but all the actions against it that are considered legitimate are very consumerist; i.e. the solution is always attacking the products, rather than truly addressing the root of real problems. In a way it's a release valve that yeah, can burn and damage us squishy vulnerable people, but takes pressure off the machine. Big Pharma is corrupt? Better to let them rail against vaccines or antibiotics or trans healthcare - it'll kill a lot of people but business can continue as usual. Don't like Big Tech? Just force TikTok to to be sold to good old trustworthy non-Chinese owners. No need to address how our entire internet ecosystem is harming society and how it's under the control of a handful of extremely wealthy people. After all, the owner of Twitter X: The Everything App is now best buddies with the president-elect. What a coup for free speech!

It's a sad state of affairs, because there are a lot of big systemic problems that need to be addressed, but the successful shrinking of the Overton window, community atomization, and the demonization of socialist politics means the mainstream body politic either doesn't have the language to discuss these problems except as individuals and consumers...or their personal politics don't allow them to.

Thus, being anti-vaccine means you're a free-thinker, a rational actor, someone who does their own research while you buy colloidal silver from Dr. Oz.

But wanting to dismantle the for-profit pharmaceutical industry or enforce anti-trust laws? Well that just sounds like big government, anti-job creator communism.

"The scientific method is the only way to find objective truths" and "all systems run by humans are prone to corruption" are two statements that do and must coexist.

[yanderedrabbles]

What would Yandere be like! Boyfriend with a girlfriend who is distant from him, but he finds out it's because she's planning a surprise party for him?

Oh this is such a great prompt!!

Yandere Boyfriend Surprise Party

Yandere! Boyfriend immediately notices something is off. You tilt your phone screen away from him whenever you get a message. You go out shopping when he's away at the gym and when he gets back you've already hidden your parcels away. You whisper with your friends and grow quiet or change the subject when he gets close.

Yandere! Boyfriend hates it. But he tries very hard to be rational about it.

Yandere! Boyfriend who tries to get you to spill your secret. He'll pin you under him and pepper your neck with ticklish kisses, keeping you in place even as you squirm. His words are muffled by your skin but you can still hear the whine in his voice when he says, "Come on baby, you can tell me."

Yandere! Boyfriend who gets more and more pushy when you won't give in. His kisses turn to sharp little nips, his hands roam under your skirt and drag up your thighs. His voice drops dangerously low when he asks, "Why are you keeping secrets from me?"

Yandere! Boyfriend who has to fight himself to even let you up when you tell him to stop, that you're not hiding anything.

Yandere! Boyfriend who goes through your phone the second you're asleep. But you know what your boyfriend is like and you've covered your tracks well. He stares at the screen, his hand clenched so tightly around the device the frame almost bends. He has take several deep, slow breaths before he can make his fingers unclench.

Yandere! Boyfriend who starts following you. The errands you're on seem harmless on the surface. Buying a cake, ribbon, balloons... But his mind is an awfully paranoid place and all he can think about is some guy spreading chocolate frosting on your thighs and licking it off. Tying your legs together with ribbons and pulling them apart with his teeth. All he can think about is some bastard enjoying a gift that isn't his.

He goes to the gym after that and pounds at the punching bag until his knuckles are raw and bleeding inside his gloves.

Yandere! Boyfriend who tracks down every single one of your friends. Sometimes banging at their doors long after sundown. There's only one thing he wants to know from them.

Why is she keeping secrets from me?

Yandere! Boyfriend who hates the vague answers they give him - just wait and see, I can't tell you, it's a surprise. He has to bite his tongue to keep himself grounded or else he might start shaking them until the truth rattles out of their scrambled skulls.

Yandere! Boyfriend who honestly terrifies your friends with his intensity. They desperately want to tell you about it, the way his eyes go dull and dangerous, the way his massive fists stay clenched at his side like he's always on the verge of swinging, the blood that coats his teeth like he's been biting himself to ribbons. But they see the way you look at him, so hopelessly in love, and can't find the words to tell you.

Yandere! Boyfriend who won't let you out of your apartment. He'll cuddle you and pretend to be asleep so you can't even untangle yourself from his massive bulk. He'll "lose" the keys and help you turn the whole place upside down looking for it, teasing you for being so absent minded. He'll turn back all the clocks and hide your phone, just so he can steal a few more hours. Who only relents when you start considering the dangerously rusty fire escape.

Yandere! Boyfriend who is on the verge of tying you up in his basement. Who unlocks his door with the intention of taking a look down there and maybe making it comfortable.

"Surprise!"

Yandere! Boyfriend who stands frozen, taking in the ribbons, the balloons, the cake, the crowd of people. And at the forefront, you. In a pretty, new dress wearing those heels that make your legs look a mile long.

Yandere! Boyfriend who scoops you up in a hug and won't let you go. Who keeps a hand on you all night - around your waist, on your thigh, intertwined with yours.

Yandere! Boyfriend who practically kicks the stragglers out the door at the end of the night. He turn around to an empty house with you out of sight and his mind starts to doubt itself again.

Yandere! Boyfriend who finally finds you in the bedroom, ribbons tied all around you and a pretty red bow holding your legs together.

"Surprise."

Yandere! Boyfriend who thinks that might be his new favourite word. Who feels his throat go dry and for a second all he can do is drink you in. His pretty little girlfriend who played with fire planning this.

Yandere! Boyfriend who carefully unties each and every ribbon, planting soft kisses on your skin all the while. For now, the doubts have dissappeared and all that matters is you and him. Skin to skin and the only thought in his head is how he adores you.

[dreamersworldduh]

UNSPOKEN TRUTHS

• Dick Grayson x Male!Reader

SUMMARY — you and Dick Grayson go way back but it’s been so many years since you two last spoke. So what happens when you two reconnect in the oddest way possible.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 7.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE! firstly, THANK YOU all for the love and support for Sunday Mornings. Now, this is a long one and I may have gotten a little carried away but nevertheless I hope you all enjoy!

Dick Grayson.

There's an undeniable magnetism about Dick Grayson—an aura that makes it impossible to stay away from him, even when every instinct tells you that you should. He embodies everything that simultaneously irritates and captivates you. He's infuriatingly charming, effortlessly sociable, and devastatingly handsome. Add to that his cocky attitude and penchant for being the ultimate goofball, and you're left with a contradiction wrapped in an irresistible package.

You've known him since your very first year at Hudson University, where fate (or maybe bad luck?) had you both enrolled in the same criminology class. While you were focused on minding your own business, diligently taking notes and keeping your head down, Dick Grayson had other plans. He was the kind of guy who seemed to thrive on interaction, and apparently, you had caught his attention.

It started innocently enough. You were hunched over your notebook, furiously scribbling details from the professor's lecture, utterly engrossed. That's when Dick made his move. Leaning over with that trademark mischievous grin, he decided your focus was far too serious for his liking.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice low enough not to draw the professor's wrath but loud enough to break through your concentration.

You tried to ignore him, hoping he'd get bored and leave you alone. But this was Dick Grayson, and persistence was practically his middle name. He didn't just want your attention—he demanded it. Whether it was tapping on your notebook, cracking an unnecessary joke, or asking a deliberately ridiculous question about the lecture material, he seemed determined to throw you off your game.

At first, you hated him for it. Who did this guy think he was, barging into your quiet world of focus and discipline with his infuriating grin and boyish charm? But over time, something shifted. Maybe it was the way he made you laugh when you least expected it, or the fact that underneath all the cockiness, he was genuinely kind and intelligent.

Dick Grayson wasn't just a distraction; he was a force of nature. And whether you liked it or not, he had a way of turning your world upside down.

Your friendship with Dick began as a slow bloom, nurtured by shared classes, late-night study sessions, and moments of unexpected laughter. What started as a simple camaraderie between classmates grew into an unshakable bond that lasted all four years at Hudson University. The two of you were inseparable, each other's confidant, cheerleader, and partner in crime-solving, so to speak.

By the time graduation rolled around, everyone assumed that life would pull you in different directions. With the ink barely dry on your diplomas, it seemed logical that you'd both scatter to explore the opportunities your criminology degrees offered. And for a while, it seemed like that was how the story would end. But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

You eventually landed a job in Blüdhaven as a small-time investigator, the kind of work that fit your personality like a glove. Observant to a fault and driven by a relentless curiosity, you thrived in the world of puzzles and mysteries. Unraveling clues, piecing together fragments of stories, and finding answers where others saw dead ends gave you an unshakable sense of fulfillment.

But being as observant as you were had its downsides. You were the kind of person who couldn't let things go, even when every rational instinct told you to back off. That's how you found yourself in your current predicament—a missing persons case that had taken a dark and dangerous turn.

It had started innocently enough, following breadcrumbs that no one else had noticed. But as you dug deeper, you realized the case was connected to a local gang, one that didn't appreciate your meddling. Unfortunately for you, they'd noticed your snooping long before you realized you were on their radar. By the time you put the pieces together, it was too late. They had you.

The gang's leader, a stereotypical brute with a barrel chest and a growling voice to match, stood over you, barking out threats. His speeches were a predictable blend of clichés: "You should've minded your own business!" and "You don't know who you're messing with!" It would've been almost funny if the situation weren't so dire.

Despite the danger, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride. You'd managed to find the missing person, even if it had landed you in chains. And now, as the leader ranted, you sat there, tied to a chair in some dingy warehouse, mentally kicking yourself for not being more careful.

Then, something caught your eye.

Out of the corner of the dimly lit room, a movement stirred in the shadows. At first, you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. But then, you saw him—a figure dressed in sleek black and blue, moving with cat-like precision through the darkness. The gang leader, oblivious to the silent intruder, continued his tirade, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The man in the shadows was swift, almost inhumanly so. One by one, the gang members guarding the room were dispatched with precise, fluid motions. He was a blur of calculated power, blending perfectly into the gloom until he wanted to be seen. And then, he was there.

Nightwing.

You'd heard whispers of him before—Blüdhaven's vigilante protector, a myth to some, a menace to criminals. But seeing him in action was another thing entirely. His black and blue suit seemed to absorb the faint light in the room, his presence commanding yet effortless.

As chaos erupted in the warehouse, the gang leader spun around, barking orders to his panicking subordinates. You could only watch in awe—and maybe a little bit of relief—as Nightwing expertly dismantled your captors. You didn't know how or why he'd come for you, but in that moment, you didn't care. All you knew was that your life was in the hands of someone who clearly knew what he was doing.

The warehouse was a symphony of chaos. Nightwing moved like a shadow come to life, his every step deliberate and his strikes landing with unerring precision. You couldn't look away, transfixed by the fluidity of his movements. He wasn't just fighting—he was dismantling. Each thug fell with a grunt or a pained yell, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground. The air was thick with the sharp sounds of punches landing and the dull thuds of bodies hitting the cold cement floor.

The leader, who had loomed so intimidatingly just minutes ago, now looked like a lumbering fool. He charged at Nightwing with brute force, swinging a metal pipe with the confidence of someone who had never faced someone of this caliber before. Nightwing sidestepped with ease, his movements economical and almost effortless. In a flash, the vigilante grabbed the leader's arm, twisted it with a sharp motion, and sent the weapon flying. A quick roundhouse kick to the chest sent the man sprawling onto his back with a groan of defeat.

And then, as abruptly as it had begun, the fight was over.

The silence that followed was almost deafening. Nightwing straightened, his breathing steady despite the intense effort he'd just exerted. He surveyed the room, his sharp gaze ensuring no threats remained. The dim lighting cast a faint glow on his black-and-blue suit, accentuating the imposing figure he cut. You couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and awe, even as your pulse raced from the ordeal.

Finally, his focus shifted to you. His stride was purposeful, his boots barely making a sound as he crossed the distance. He crouched beside you, the sharp angles of his mask now just inches from your face. His hands, encased in black gloves, moved swiftly, slicing through the ropes that bound your wrists and ankles.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low but carrying a gentle concern that caught you off guard. His eyes—calm, steady, and searching—met yours briefly, and in that moment, the hostage trembling nearby seemed like an afterthought.

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky as you replied, "I'm fine. Thanks to you."

As he helped you to your feet, his hand lingered on your arm, steadying you. It was a small gesture, but it sent a jolt through you. Those eyes. Brown, warm, and so achingly familiar. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as realization struck.

"Dick?" you whispered, the name escaping your lips before you could stop yourself.

He stiffened, the subtle movement confirming what you already knew. His head turned slightly, his gaze flicking to the hostage, who was watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. His silence said everything.

You bit your lip, realizing your mistake. Swallowing your questions, you forced yourself to focus. The hostage needed to be taken care of, and this wasn't the time or place for the confrontation brewing in your mind.

"Thank you," the hostage managed to stammer, their voice shaky. Nightwing gave them a curt nod, his usual confidence slipping back into place as he offered them a reassuring glance.

Moments later, the sound of sirens filled the air, the flashing red and blue lights of the approaching police cars spilling into the warehouse. Officers rushed in, taking the gang into custody and escorting the hostage to safety. Meanwhile, you stayed put, standing just outside the chaos as the adrenaline slowly ebbed from your system.

Nightwing lingered, his posture tense but his presence solid and unwavering. It was clear he was waiting—perhaps for the right moment, or perhaps for you.

"You're not leaving," you said, stepping closer to him with a sharpness in your tone that surprised even you. "Good. Because we need to talk."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. Still, you caught the faintest hint of unease in his posture. He knew what was coming.

As the last of the police cars pulled away, leaving the two of you bathed in the faint glow of a nearby streetlamp, you finally allowed yourself to say what had been clawing at you.

"It is you," you said softly, the weight of the realization settling over you. "Dick Grayson."

Nightwing let out a soft, resigned sigh. Without a word, he reached up, his gloved fingers curling around the edges of his mask. In one smooth motion, he pulled it away, revealing the face you'd known for years.

The sight of him hit you like a wave. His dark hair was slightly tousled, damp with sweat, and those familiar brown eyes stared back at you with a mix of guilt and apprehension.

"Hi," he said, his voice quiet but steady, as if testing the waters.

You stared at him, struggling to untangle the mess of emotions inside you. Shock, anger, confusion, and something else—something softer—swirled in your chest. "You've been here," you said finally, your voice trembling. "In Blüdhaven. This whole time. And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not that simple," he replied, his tone gentle but laced with regret. "I wanted to. I just... couldn't."

You huffed, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "You're not getting out of this, Dick. We're talking about it. All of it."

A small, sheepish smile tugged at his lips, and for a moment, he almost looked like the carefree friend you remembered from Hudson University. "Yeah," he said softly. "I figured as much."

The weight of the moment hung heavy between you, unspoken questions lingering in the air. There was so much to say, so much you needed to understand, but for now, the two of you simply stood there, the silence stretching like an unspoken promise.

Soon, the two of you arrived at Dick's apartment, the closest and most convenient place to regroup. The space was warm and inviting, a surprising contrast to the gritty chaos of the warehouse you'd just escaped. Dick excused himself to change out of his vigilante uniform, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and his belongings.

It wasn't long before your curiosity got the better of you. Old habits die hard, and you found yourself wandering the apartment, taking in the details. The first thing you noticed was how organized it was compared to his dorm back in college. Gone were the piles of laundry and cluttered desks; everything here had its place. The sleek, minimalist decor hinted at someone who valued function over flair, though the occasional personal touch softened the aesthetic.

There were pictures scattered around, mostly in simple frames. You stopped to study them, recognizing some of the faces from news articles and social media posts. These must be his siblings. During college, Dick had rarely talked about his family, offering only vague hints that he was adopted and that his adoptive father was extremely wealthy. Back then, the extent of his family's resources was evident in the way he casually splurged—never obnoxiously, but like the carefree college student who'd buy a round of shots for half the campus without a second thought.

Your gaze lingered on a particular photo, and your breath caught. It was a picture of you and Dick, taken during a Christmas party in your junior year. The two of you stood beneath a sprig of mistletoe, your face frozen in an exaggeratedly annoyed expression as he planted a kiss on your cheek. But you remembered that moment vividly. You remembered how fast your heart had raced, how flustered you'd felt, and how you'd struggled to keep your reaction under control. Out of all the pictures you'd taken together, you couldn't believe he'd kept this one.

The sound of his voice startled you from your thoughts.

"You know, this is exactly how you got yourself captured the first time," Dick said, his tone tinged with amusement.

You turned sharply, only to find him leaning casually against the doorframe. He was dressed in a navy blue tank top that revealed the lean, athletic build beneath, his arms toned from years of training. Loose-fitting gray joggers hung low on his hips, offering a distracting peek at his defined waistline. For a moment, your thoughts betrayed you, wandering where they shouldn't. You quickly shook the imagery from your mind and refocused, gesturing toward the picture in question.

"Why this picture?" you asked, pointing at the frame.

Dick stepped closer, glancing at the photo with a soft smile. "It's my favorite of us," he admitted, his voice light but honest.

Your chest tightened. You stared at him, studying the way his expression softened as he looked at the photo, as though it held a special place in his memory. You remembered that night clearly, but you'd never imagined it meant as much to him as it had to you.

"You don't even like Christmas," you teased, trying to deflect the sudden wave of emotion threatening to surface.

He shrugged, turning to you with a playful grin. "True. But I like you."

The simplicity of his statement made your heart skip a beat. He said it so casually, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, yet the weight of those words hung heavy in the air between you. You swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.

"Dick..." you began, your voice faltering.

"Don't overthink it," he said, his grin fading into something softer. "I just... like having a reminder of how happy we were. That's all."

You looked back at the photo, the moment frozen in time, and then at him. For all the chaos that had led to this point, standing here with him now, it was hard to deny that something about this moment felt right.

The dining room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the adjacent kitchen. You leaned against the chair, arms crossed, watching as Dick moved to the table where a stack of papers sat in disarray. His movements were deliberate but lacked his usual confidence, as though he were stalling for time.

“So,” you began, your tone cutting through the silence, “I’m guessing things have been rough if you decided to change careers. Last we talked, you were dead set on becoming a cop. It was literally all you could talk about.”

You turned to face him fully, your words sharp but not without curiosity. Dick froze for a moment, his shoulders tensing before he turned his head slightly toward you.

“That’s still in the works,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with defensiveness.

“Yeah?” you shot back, arching an eyebrow as you pointed to the table. “You mean with those blank applications over there?”

Dick followed your gaze to the stack of untouched forms on the dining room table. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair as if that would somehow untangle the thoughts swirling in his head.

“You don’t understand, Y/N…” he started, but you weren’t about to let him finish.

“I may not be a crime-fighting vigilante in spandex,” you interrupted, stepping closer and folding your arms tightly across your chest, “but I do know you can’t keep putting your life on hold like this. Blüdhaven isn’t Gotham, Dick. You don’t have to be out there night and day. It’s not your responsibility to carry this city on your back.”

He turned to face you fully now, his jaw set. “I also run my own team, you know,” he pointed out, his tone firm but not without frustration.

“Okay, and?” you replied, your voice rising slightly. “I’m thankful for what you did tonight—for me, for that hostage, for everyone you help. But come on, Dick. You can’t just live for this. You should have a life outside of your nighttime activities and team leadership. You deserve more than this relentless grind.”

His hands clenched briefly at his sides, and then he threw them up in exasperation. “I did!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. “I did have that life. Four years, Y/N. Four years of normalcy. School, friends… you.”

You blinked, his words hitting you like a freight train. He wasn’t done.

“I fell in love with you, for god’s sake,” he continued, his voice quieter but no less intense. “But I knew—deep down—I couldn’t hold onto that. I couldn’t keep living in a reality that wasn’t mine to have.”

For a moment, the air between you felt impossibly still. You stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, his words ricocheting in your mind.

“You… fell in love with me?” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

Dick looked at you, his expression vulnerable in a way you hadn’t seen before. His usually confident demeanor was gone, replaced by something raw and honest.

“I never stopped,” he admitted quietly, his gaze unwavering.

The weight of his confession hung heavily in the air, but before Dick could react, reality struck you like a lightning bolt. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him across the face.

The sharp sound echoed in the room, startling you both.

“You waited four years to tell me you’re in love with me?” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of frustration, disbelief, and something you couldn’t quite name.

Dick blinked in surprise, his cheek barely reddened from the slap. He raised a hand to rub at it, murmuring, “Ow.” Though you knew it hadn’t actually hurt him—your slap had been more for dramatic effect than anything else—it still made him flinch slightly.

“You know,” he said, his voice tinged with exasperated humor, “it took a lot of courage to admit this. I mean, at first, I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling. But the more I got to know you…” He paused, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “I was whipped. Everyone knew how protective I was of you.”

“Clearly not everyone,” you shot back, folding your arms tightly across your chest.

Dick tilted his head, his expression softening with that boyish charm that always seemed to disarm you. “That’s because you were always so oblivious to things,” he pointed out, a teasing edge in his tone.

“This isn’t about me,” you retorted, your frustration flaring again. “This is about you—about you waiting years to—”

Before you could finish, Dick’s hands moved with startling quickness, cupping your face as he leaned in, cutting you off completely. His lips crashed onto yours, silencing your protests in an instant.

Your first instinct was to resist, your mind screaming at you to stay angry, to push him away and demand answers. But the moment his lips moved against yours, warm and insistent, your anger began to dissolve like sugar in water. His touch was firm but not forceful, as though he was pouring every unspoken word, every pent-up feeling, into that kiss.

Damn him.

Your hands, which had been frozen in mid-air, slowly lowered to his chest, resting against the fabric of his tank top. You wanted to be mad, to hold onto your indignation, but instead, you found yourself leaning into him. His lips were soft yet commanding, and they melted away every ounce of tension in your body.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the heat of his breath mingling with yours. His brown eyes, now so close, bore into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. There was an undeniable hunger in them, a raw and unguarded lust, but beneath it was something deeper, something that spoke of years of unspoken feelings and restraint finally breaking free.

The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with tension as he leaned in closer, his forehead still brushing against yours. His hands, which had been gently cupping your face, slid down to your jaw, his thumbs tracing soft, maddeningly slow circles on your skin.

“I want to make love to you so bad,” Dick whispered, his voice husky and low, the words trembling with emotion. “But I want to do this right.”

The warmth of his breath tickled your lips as he spoke, and the sheer vulnerability in his voice made your chest tighten. Yet the weight of those words, so raw and sensual, sent a jolt of arousal through you. You felt your body react instantly, your breath hitching as your dick tightened in response.

You had never heard anything like this from him before—such a delicate balance of sweetness and longing, spoken with the kind of confidence that sent heat pooling in your stomach. His voice wasn’t just sexual; it was reverent, like he was making a promise wrapped in desire.

Your hands rested against his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tank top as you tried to steady yourself. The warmth of his body beneath your touch only heightened the tension, and you struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone words.

“Dick…” you finally managed, though it came out as little more than a breathless murmur.

His eyes never left yours, his gaze darkened with an intensity that made it clear just how much he wanted you—but he didn’t move, waiting for your response. Waiting for you to meet him halfway. And in that moment, the depth of his restraint only made you want him more.

“I want you to make love to me,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you met his gaze. The words hung in the air for a moment, electrifying the space between you.

Dick’s eyes darkened instantly, the flicker of hesitation replaced by raw desire and unrestrained passion. That was all he needed. In the blink of an eye, his lips were on yours, crashing against yours with a fury that made your knees weak.

The kiss was nothing like the soft, tentative one from earlier. This was urgent, consuming, as though he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t contain himself any longer. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The heat of his chest pressed against yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as wildly as your own.

You gasped against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours with an intensity that made you shiver. His fingers trailed up your back, one hand tangling in your hair while the other held your waist, anchoring you to him.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, sliding over the smooth, warm skin exposed by his tank top. You clutched at him, your fingers curling into the fabric as you felt his muscles flex beneath your touch. He kissed you like a man starved, like he’d been waiting for this moment for years, pouring every ounce of his suppressed longing into it.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling and swollen from the sheer intensity. His forehead pressed against yours as he steadied himself, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with yours.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, though the look in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted you.

You nodded, your hands sliding down his chest to rest against his waist. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

That was all he needed to hear before his lips were on yours again, this time softer but no less passionate, as if he wanted to savor every second of what was about to happen.

Dick’s lips moved from yours with deliberate, unhurried precision, trailing a path along your jawline before finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The contrast between his soft kisses and the occasional scrape of his teeth sent a shiver coursing down your spine.

When he finally found your sweet spot just below your ear, your breath hitched sharply, and a low, involuntary moan escaped your lips. The sound seemed to spur him on, his lips lingering as he alternated between gentle kisses and slow, teasing nibbles.

Your hands, which had been resting lightly against his waist, tightened instinctively. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his joggers, pulling him closer, needing to feel the heat radiating from his body. The firmness of his waist beneath your touch grounded you even as your head tilted back slightly, offering him more access.

He hummed against your skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His arms wrapped around you more securely, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head while the other pressed against the small of your back, holding you flush against him.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured against your neck, his voice low and rough. The combination of his words and his lips on your skin was overwhelming, igniting an firm erection in your dick that made it impossible to think of anything but him.

Your breathing grew heavier, your chest rising and falling against his as you surrendered completely to the sensations. Every press of his lips, every soft graze of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure rippling through you, and you couldn’t help but cling to him even tighter.

“Dick,” you breathed, his name spilling from your lips in a way that was half plea, half encouragement. His response was a low, approving growl that made your knees go weak, but his strong arms kept you firmly in place.

Dick’s hands slid down your sides, lingering for a moment at your hips before they gripped your thighs firmly. In one fluid motion, he lifted you effortlessly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. His strength, always impressive but now impossibly intimate, sent a shiver through you.

Your arms clung to his shoulders for balance as he held you close, your chest pressed against his. His lips captured yours again, and the kiss was slow but no less hungry, his steps steady as he carried you toward the darkly dim room down the hall.

Normally, your inquisitive nature would have taken over, and you’d have surveyed every inch of the space. But right now, your attention was consumed by him—by the heat of his body, the way his fingers flexed against your thighs, and the electric connection between you.

The faint glow of the bedside lamp cast soft shadows on the walls as he entered the room. You barely registered the surroundings, focusing instead on the way his breathing had quickened, mirroring your own. He reached the bed, lowering you carefully to the floor with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

His hands lingered on your hips as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze burning with unspoken desire and reverence. Slowly, deliberately, his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch warm against your skin as he lifted it over your head. He took his time, his eyes roaming over you like he was memorizing every detail.

Your breath hitched as he began to undress himself, his movements fluid and unhurried. His tank top came off first, revealing the toned lines of his chest and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. His joggers followed, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Your hands moved instinctively to his waist, tugging at the waistband of his boxers, but he stopped you gently, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your collarbone.

His hands returned to you, sliding along your sides with deliberate slowness before slipping beneath the waistband of your own boxers, guiding them down. The intimacy of the moment made your pulse race, every inch of skin he revealed heightening the tension between you.

Now, with both of you standing there, bare except for the thin fabric separating you completely, the air felt charged, heavy with anticipation. Dick’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression a perfect blend of lust and something deeper, something that made your heart pound harder than ever before.

Dick’s hands wrapped around your dick with deliberate care, his grip firm yet gentle. The slow, teasing movements of his fingers as he stroked you sent jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. His eyes stayed locked on yours, their intensity leaving you breathless. He watched your every reaction, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as soft moans began to spill from your lips.

The sound seemed to embolden him, as if each moan was a symphony only he could conduct. He leaned closer, the heat of his breath ghosting over your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. Before you could process what was happening, he guided you backward, gently pushing you onto the mattress.

The soft surface cradled you as you fell, the world around you blurring into insignificance. All that mattered was him—his touch, his gaze, his presence. Dick climbed onto the bed, settling himself between your legs with a confidence that made your pulse race.

His hands found your thighs, gripping them firmly but not aggressively as he spread your legs slightly wider. The warmth of his palms was grounding, his touch both possessive and reverent. His eyes never left yours, a silent question hanging in the air, one you answered with a slight nod and a quiet, shaky breath.

Leaning forward, he placed a featherlight kiss just below your navel before lowering himself further. The sensation of his tongue grazing your dick made your back arch slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He didn’t stop there—his tongue trailed down with slow, deliberate strokes before his lips closed around you completely.

The heat of his mouth was overwhelming, his movements skilled and calculated. He alternated between slow, torturous licks and firm, rhythmic suction, drawing louder moans from you with each passing second. The room was filled with the sounds of your pleasure, mingling with his soft hums as he worked.

Just as you thought the sensations couldn’t intensify, you felt something new. His hand, which had been resting on your thigh, moved downward, his fingers tracing teasing circles near your hole. The first press of his fingertip was gentle, testing, and when he felt your body relax, he slid a single finger inside with the same care.

The combination of his mouth and the intrusion sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, and your moans grew louder, higher, uncontrollable. Your hands instinctively reached for him, one tangling in his hair as the other clutched at the sheets beneath you.

“Dick,” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips like a plea.

He glanced up at you, his brown eyes dark with desire, a glint of satisfaction evident as he took in the sight of you unraveling beneath him. He added a slight curl to his finger, hitting a spot that made your entire body tremble. The way your voice broke with pleasure was like fuel to him, and he redoubled his efforts, his lips and fingers moving in perfect harmony to push you further toward the edge.

The only thing you could do was surrender to him completely, your mind and body consumed by the intensity of the sensations he was creating.

The sudden press of a second finger into your hole sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, a sharp moan escaping your lips at the unexpected intrusion. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, your chest rising and falling as Dick’s fingers moved inside you with increasing speed. Each curl and thrust was precise, hitting spots that made your back arch off the mattress in ecstasy.

The heat pooling in your hole was overwhelming, your breath coming in short gasps as you struggled to keep up with the rhythm he was setting. Just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of control, his fingers stopped abruptly and slid out, leaving you gasping at the loss of contact.

“Why did you—” you began, your voice breathless and laced with confusion, but the words caught in your throat as your eyes traveled down to him.

Dick had shifted back slightly, his hands hooking into the waistband of his boxers. With deliberate slowness, he slid them down his hips, his eyes never leaving yours. As the fabric pooled at his knees, your gaze dropped, and your breath hitched at the sight before you.

His dick was fully revealed, and he was… well, impressively endowed. Huge as hell. The dim light of the room cast shadows that only emphasized his size and shape, and for a moment, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. The anticipation in the air was electric, and the confident smirk playing at the corners of his lips told you he noticed your reaction.

“You were saying?” he teased softly, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

Your mouth opened to reply, but no words came. Instead, your eyes flickered back up to meet his, and the hunger in his gaze made your stomach flip. He moved closer, his hands returning to your thighs, gently spreading them wider as he leaned over you, his bare skin brushing against yours. The weight of him above you, combined with the heat radiating from his body, sent your pulse racing again.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a mix of tenderness and desire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”

His smile softened for a moment, a flicker of something deeper crossing his expression before he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an invitation.

Dick broke the kiss, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly. His eyes stayed locked on yours, filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. Reaching over to his dresser, he grabbed a small bottle of lube, his movements deliberate but steady.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing a reassuring circle against your hip.

You nodded, your anticipation building as he popped the cap. The cool gel landed on your hole, and you squirmed at the sudden chill, a soft gasp escaping your lips. Dick chuckled lightly at your reaction, his hands smoothing over your thighs to steady you.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he worked the lube gently around your hole. The sensation was strange but not unpleasant, his touch careful and precise.

Once he was satisfied, he coated himself in the gel, his large hands moving confidently as he spread it over his dick. The sight alone made your heart race, but before you could get lost in the thought, he tossed the bottle somewhere across the room with a soft thud, refocusing entirely on you.

His hands returned to your waist, gripping you firmly but gently as he positioned himself between your legs. The weight of his gaze anchored you, and you took a deep breath as you felt the head of his dick press against your hole.

“This might feel a little intense at first,” he warned, his voice husky but tender. “Let me know if you need me to stop.”

You nodded again, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you as he began to push forward slowly. The stretch was immediate, his size making you wince slightly as your body adjusted. Dick paused, his brows furrowed in concentration as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re doing amazing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple before trailing down to your cheek.

He continued inching forward, his movements measured and deliberate, giving you time to adjust with each small push. By the time he was fully seated inside you, your breaths were coming in shallow gasps, but you could feel the tension in your body beginning to ease.

Dick stayed still for a moment, his forehead resting against yours. His hands moved up to cradle your face as he kissed you softly, his lips tender and warm. “You feel so damn good,” he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses down your jawline and neck.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered between kisses, his words laced with affection as he peppered your skin with soft touches. His hands stroked your sides gently, grounding you while his lips worked to soothe any lingering discomfort.

“You’re everything,” he added, his voice low and filled with emotion, as though each word was meant to make you feel as cherished as possible.

The warmth of his presence, the tenderness of his touch, and the sincerity in his words made it impossible not to relax completely. Your body adjusted to him, the initial discomfort fading into something far more intimate and fulfilling.

Dick’s thrusts began slow and deliberate, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he slid in and out of your hole. Each thrust was careful, as if he were gauging your every reaction, ensuring you were comfortable. The initial stretch had given way to a new sensation—fullness that sent sparks of pleasure radiating through you with every deliberate motion.

Your hands clutched at the sheets, your knuckles whitening as you let out a shaky moan. The heat building in your core only intensified as Dick’s strokes grew deeper, his pace gradually increasing. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to anchor you but not hurt. He adjusted his angle slightly, and the next thrust hit a spot that made your back arch off the mattress and a louder moan escape your lips.

“That’s it,” Dick murmured, his voice a deep, encouraging rasp that sent shivers through your body. “Let me hear you.”

Your moans grew more unrestrained as his movements became more confident, each stroke deeper and more precise than the last. His body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin adding to the growing intensity. The sound of your bodies moving together—his labored breathing, your gasps, the rhythmic creak of the mattress—filled the dimly lit room, creating an atmosphere of pure intimacy.

“Dick,” you gasped, his name tumbling from your lips as the pleasure built higher. His response was a low groan, his eyes locking onto yours as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. His lips were warm, insistent, and grounding, keeping you tethered to him even as your body felt like it might unravel from the sensations he was creating.

Every thrust felt like a wave crashing through you, each one pulling you further under, until all you could do was cling to him and let him take you where he wanted.

“Say it again,” Dick whispered in your ear, his voice low and full of need. His thrusts grew faster, deeper, his breath hot against your skin. “Say my name.”

“Dick,” you moaned, your voice breaking as another thrust sent a wave of pleasure surging through you. “Ugh, Dick—”

He growled softly at the sound of his name on your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you up from the bed. In one fluid motion, he shifted, sitting back on his knees with you straddling him. Your legs remained tightly wrapped around his waist, your bodies pressed together as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you against him.

You didn’t need any encouragement. Your body took over, moving instinctively as you began to rise and fall along his dick. Each motion sent him deeper inside you, filling you completely, and your moans grew louder, spilling into his ear with every movement.

The sensation was overwhelming—the stretch, the heat, the way his hands gripped your hips to guide you as you moved. But before another moan could escape, Dick silenced you with a kiss. His lips crashed into yours, passionate and demanding, his tongue sliding against yours as his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice raw with emotion and desire. “I love you so fucking much.”

Your breath hitched at his confession, your heart racing as you whimpered in response. “I love you too, Dick. I love you.”

The rhythm between you grew faster, more desperate, as your body tightened around him. The pleasure was building, an unstoppable crescendo that left you trembling in his arms. You buried your face in his neck, gasping out, “I’m close. Faster, baby. Please.”

His lips brushed your ear as he chuckled softly, his voice deep and intoxicating. “As you wish.”

With that, he tightened his grip on your hips and thrust upward with renewed intensity, meeting each of your movements with precision. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the steady slap of your bodies moving together. Every thrust pushed you closer to the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you held on for dear life.

Dick’s lips found yours again, his kisses feverish and consuming as he whispered words of love and encouragement between each kiss.

Your entire body tensed as the pleasure reached its peak, and you let out a cry of pure bliss, your climax washing over you in waves that left you breathless and shaking in his arms.

Dick’s thrusts didn’t falter for a moment. If anything, they became more relentless, each one deeper and more deliberate than the last. His breathing grew heavier, his body pressing firmly against yours as his rhythm quickened. The telltale tension in his muscles and the soft groans spilling from his lips signaled that he was nearing his own climax, but he didn’t let up.

His lips never left your skin, moving from your mouth to your neck and back again, as though grounding himself in the intimacy of the moment. Each kiss was full of raw passion, his lips trailing heat and leaving you breathless.

“You feel so good,” Dick murmured against your ear, his voice strained and low. “So perfect.”

The intensity of his thrusts made it impossible to form coherent words. Your body arched instinctively, your hands clutching at his back as he held you tightly against him. You could feel his grip on your hips tighten, his fingers digging in slightly as his movements became more erratic, more desperate.

“Y/N,” he groaned, your name rolling off his tongue in a deep, guttural tone that sent shivers through you.

A moment later, he buried himself to the hilt, his hips pressing flush against yours as he reached his breaking point. The warmth of his release filled you, a rush of heat that made you gasp. His head fell against your shoulder, his breath ragged as he rode out the waves of his climax, his body trembling slightly against yours.

Even then, his lips continued their tender assault, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and up to your neck. His voice was a low whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of your labored breathing.

“If I wasn’t so tired, I’d hit you,” you breathed out, your voice heavy with exhaustion but tinged with playful annoyance.

Dick chuckled, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as he pressed a soft kiss to your skin. “Why?” he asked, his tone light and teasing. “What did I do this time?”

“You robbed me of four years of amazing sex,” you replied matter-of-factly, shooting him a tired glare that only made him laugh harder.

His laughter was rich and unrestrained, his chest vibrating against yours as he leaned back just enough to lift his head from your neck. His gaze locked onto yours, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. Without warning, he captured your lips in a kiss so passionate and full of promise that it left you breathless all over again.

When he finally pulled back, his grin was wicked, and his voice dropped to a husky murmur. “Oh, baby, we’re just getting started,” he said, his hand sliding down your side possessively. “I hope you don’t have plans in the morning.”

You barely had time to process the meaning of his words before his lips were on you again, igniting another round of passion that carried you both well into the night.

By the time morning rolled around, the two of you were sprawled on the floor of his living room, completely spent. The apartment bore the evidence of your nocturnal escapades: furniture slightly askew, scattered pillows, and discarded clothes littering the space. The air was still faintly warm from the fire you’d burned through the night.

Dick’s strong arms were wrapped securely around your waist, holding you close as if afraid you might disappear. Your face was tucked into the crook of his neck, your breaths soft and even against his skin. His chin rested gently atop your head, and both of you wore blissful smiles as the sunlight began to filter through the curtains.

The world outside was quiet, but in that moment, everything felt perfectly complete. There, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared intimacy, you both slept peacefully, content in a way you hadn’t been in years.

[scramblescrew]

Hey can I request uh....ancients with a y/n who finally gives up but ends up depressed? Like they usually lay there and do nothing and be basically a sad doll that needs lots of comfort?

((Sure thing, Anon! Here ya go! Sorry it took me so long! Writer’s block has been killing me

(TRIGGER WARNING FOR THEMES OF DEPRESSIVE TOPICS! IF IT IS TOO MUCH FOR YOU, PLEASE MOVE ON PAST)

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Dark Cacao Cookie would start having a bit of an easier time realizing what you’re feeling. He had felt the same depressed, empty feeling when his son, Dark Choco Cookie, forced his hand and he was cast out of the kingdom.

But when he found out you were just laying in bed, usually motionless, he was concerned. He understood that you weren’t in an ideal mental state but you still needed to care for yourself.

Instead of having one of the citadel staff bringing you your rations, Dark Cacao did instead. When he unlocked the door to your chambers and entered. His heart ached even more watching you lay motionless on your bed, your chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.

“Y/N…”

DCC walked over with the food, set it down on the bedside table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Please understand why I had to keep you here in the citadel…the world outside of these walls would corrupt you…take what it would from you then leave you for dead. I couldn’t have that for you…I can’t lose you…!”

After a few minutes of silence, DCC sighed and laid down beside you, pulling you in close, and wrapped his arms around Y/N.

“Please know that I love you…even if in your eyes it doesn’t seem so…”

—————————————————————————

Scared. Pure Vanilla Cookie is scared when he finds to mindlessly and silently pacing the grounds of his kingdom for who knows how many hours and even more fearful when he catches up to you and you stare blankly and wordlessly at him.

His heart breaks at this as he pulls you close and hugs you.

“Let’s get you back to bed, you must be exhausted…wondering for so long isn’t good for you…”

PV helped you to your shared bedroom and let you have privacy to get changed into more comfortable clothing before helping you into bed and healing any injuries you may have gotten from your wonder.

After everything was settled down and you were physically well again, PV got into bed with you, pull you close, and started kissing your forehead and gently rubbing your back as you lay there.

“Please don’t scare me like that…I never want to see you hurt…”

_____________________________________

Hollyberry was excited when you had taken your stay in her castle, your new home, better than she had anticipated, you occupied her to events without complaint (maybe a bit of reluctance and though not very much), you started to give her small bits of affection like holding her hand and reciprocating her hugs even if you were still very reserved, but somethings were still worrying…

What she worried about was went you started having sudden outbursts of rage and berating her for getting to close. It was like flipping a switch in your brain at random and it was…SCARING your captor.

After leaving you be for a while and do research on what she could do to help you and came up with a solution.

That night she sat you down and gently hugged you, explaining that she understands that you’re going through a rough time and that she wanted to help you. She was going to set up meetings with a therapist and will let you roam the kingdom with less strict supervision. All she wanted was you to get better and to love her.

“All I want in return is your love…please give me your love, my dear…”

—————————————————————————————————————

White Lily Cookie understood… being forced to stay in a barely familiar place with someone who claims to be your lover but is actually your captor can take a toll on a cookie. So it was understandable that you would fall into a depression. One where you couldn’t sleep(understandable as White Lily Cookie made you sleep in the same bed as her), you refused food or drink much to her worry, and your memory was getting worse by the day due to the aforementioned symptoms and more.

It all came to a head one day when you…just stopped moving at all, you didn’t get outta bed, you stopped what little resistance you gave to White Lily Cookie’s attempts to give you affection. You accepted all the hugs, kisses and the cheek and forehead, accepted her cuddling you at night, everything. You just stopped responding.

After a thorough examination from a doctor that was called in (No, Pure Vanilla Cookie was not asked for help. He had his own darling to deal with), it was found out that your depression had gotten worse, to the point of you had fallen into a Catatonic state.

After this revelation, White Lily would try every day to get you to get up or even just open your eyes and look at her. But White Lily soon conceded and focused on being there for you, gently holding you close and letting you be her sad little doll…

“My sweetest doll…it’ll all be ok. Please just open your eyes..for me..?”

—————————————————————————————————————

Golden Cheese Cookie held you in her arms with her wings wrapped around your body. With what has happened to her in the past, Golden Cheese Cookie understands what it’s like to feel so empty and hopeless.

But you staying in your bed all day….something in her….BEGS…for you to get up again…

The next thing you know, you are subjected to bi-daily tests and a sarcophagus is built to hold you and keep you inside of it. It was built so only Golden Cheese Cookie could get you out if she ever wanted to.

And that was the hardest part, the easiest part was locking you inside. You didn’t really fight back like you used to, like you did when she first brought you to her kingdom. But that just meant you would be hers sooner…

Once you were in GCC’s digital kingdom, you felt the urge to get up, to walk around, to be free, much to Golden Cheese cookie’s satisfaction and joy. She once again hugged and held you close with her wings wrapped around you.

“It’ll be ok now…I’ve got you…and you’ll never want for anything, my gem…”

————————————————————————————————————

Im here this is here, it’s raw, it took forever- I need a nap (I pulled an all nighter for this request so I could get it out for you all😊) *Dies*

[dreamsy990]

some of the less nice thoughts about being aroace

extras below the cut

sketch

closeups on my favorite panels

bonus: adios

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Christmas Celebration

So. When I started typing this. The poll had said that Fluff was wanted with a small lead. The whole time while typing it it was even (seriously how did you do that?!) and as soon as i finish suddenly Lore won?

No. You guys are getting fluff now >:D

First Drabble (original prompt by @spotaus ) Prev Drabble Next Drabble

(also for those curious this ended up being 3700 words so strap in and get ready)

*----------------------*

Nightmare wakes up early. Very early.

He isn’t that surprised. Not really. How can he really be?

Nightmare takes a moment to check how he is captured this time. Seems like Killer is completely wrapped around him and Horror holding both him and Killer. Dust and Cross are on his other side.

Mmmh… A bit more complex.

Probably his own fault for sneaking out of bed and the nest as often as he does. Still. He isn’t about to be discouraged about it.

Some wiggling and scooting and a lot of patience later and he is next to the bed.

Hah. Nightmare pats himself down before walking towards the chair holding their clothes.

It is still a bit weird but also nice to be spending a few nights at Crop’s and Straw’s. The two brothers had invited all of them to spend Christmas with them. Christmas here being all about family and spending time with them.

Horror had obviously wanted to go but he hadn’t immediately said yes. Said they would talk about it first. Which Nightmare gets. Dust still has issues with seeing anyone who resembles his own brother.

But as soon as Horror had told them about the invite Dust must have also seen how badly Horror wanted to spend more time with his best friend. Meaning he had said it would only be fair to say yes and spend time with them.

Killer had quickly agreed and Cross had seemed curious about the whole holiday as well.

Which leads them to here.

Nightmare finishes putting on his extra socks and his bat hoody. He puts on a beanie over his skull. He still is sensitive to the cold and he had to promise all of them that he would make sure he was dressed warm if he exited to nest.

Now fully dressed he slowly sneaks downstairs. It is still dark out but he doesn’t mind too much. A glance at the clock confirms it is nearing the normal time that Horror and Cross get up. Thought with the longer nights and the cold neither are as quick to wake up unless they turn on their own alarms.

Nightmare gets downstairs and spots Straw and Crop both getting ready to go outside. Nightmare takes a seat on the stairs and tilts his skull at them “Where are you going?”

Both of them jump and turn quickly. Straw sighs but grins “Wowie. You are a very sneaky babybones.”

Nightmare shrugs as he waits for his answer.

Crop chuckles “We are going to check the animals. Make sure they made it through the night and got enough things to drink and eat for the day.” He looks considerate at Straw and Straw nods with a large grin and a begging look.

Crop laughs but looks at Nightmare “Want to come along? Or do you think your dads will kill me if you come with?”

Embarrassed and Nightmare shrugs “I mean… if we leave a note I think they will not panic?” he isn’t sure what to even call them at this point. Not after everything. He tries not to think about it too much.

Straw looks so excited “Do you want to come? You can pet Betty again. And maybe pet some of the chickens?” as Straw speaks Crop is looking through the jackets and snowboots to find Nightmare’s set.

Nightmare ends up nodding and walking over. Straw quickly goes to grab some paper and a pen to leave the note as Crop hands over the outdoor wear. He dresses himself and waves off the help offered by Crop. It is just… he is fine dressing himself… mostly… He just lets the gang do it and help him because it makes it faster and they are.. well them!

Tying his shoes takes longer but works alright in the end. Even if the loops are a little… loose looking and not as tied when Cross does it for him.

Even so he pulls his hood up tightly over his beanie covered skull and gets ready for the cold.

Crop opens the door and Nightmare shivers a bit as the cold air penetrates through his jacket a bit. Not as bad as before but that is because of all the extra layers he is wearing.

Straw suddenly looks a bit unsure “You okay? Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all…” he shoots Crop a nervous look.

Crop looks at him “You still want to come?”

Nightmare huffs and nods trying to appear certain and determined. It is only after Crop starts to smile and Straw coos slightly that Nightmare remembers he is still wearing his frog beanie and his bat hoody. Sure there is a jacket over that but it is still not the most serious look.

He carefully walks through the snow and pauses to test a few steps. His spine had been starting to feel a bit better but he best not irate it by falling over and hurting himself.

It is a slow journey but they get to the chicken coop and Crop unlocks the little latch to let them into the area. Straw quickly grabs the stored food and easily jumps over the little fence to join their side.

Crop grins and opens the coop and must see the confusion on Nightmare’s face. Crop chuckles “They aren’t the biggest fans of the cold.”

Nightmare huffs and nods in slight agreement. He gets that. He isn’t either.

Crop chuckles but continues “But. It is good for them to get some fresh air and move around a bit. It is why I like opening the hatch at least for the morning feeding.”

Straw joins his side by crouching down and opening the bag with seeds and some wheats “We can throw this out a bit for them. Encourage them to come outside before filling up the reserves inside the coop.” Straw grabs a hand and shows how he spreads it around.

Nightmare looks at his own mitten covered hand but grabs a tiny hand before spreading it out around the coop.

Some soft clucks and some chickens slowly waddle out. Looking very suspicious of the snow but clearly wanting the food. They slowly get nearer.

Straw grins and holds some food out for the chickens in his hands. Letting the chickens get closer and once they are close slowly letting it fall to the ground. The chicken starts to eat and Straw pets it. Straw grins at him “See? Easy does it. The girls are all very nice!”

Nightmare frowns but slowly grabs a small hand himself as he holds it out. One of the birds looks at the food he is offering and slowly walks over. Giving soft clucks along the way. Nightmare drops the food when she is close. The chicken pauses before starting to peck away at it. Nightmare inches a few tiny steps closer and pets the chicken. He obviously can’t feel the feathers through his gloves but the idea is nice.

Huh. He… just realised this is actually the first time he is near the animals on his own two legs. The first time he stayed here he remained inside the whole time. His back still too weak to even sit alone for a long time much less stand on his own. The only times he was near any of the animals it was when Dust held him and only near Betty once or twice.

So much had changed.

Crop pops out of the coop and dusts himself off “That is their feeds being filled again. Lets go to Betty next.”

Nightmare frowns as he looks at the coop “Don’t they need to be inside first?”

Straw nods “When we lock it certainly! But they need a moment for themselves outside and will soon realise there is also food inside. Then they will go back in themselves!”

Crop nods and gently nudges some of the chickens away from the fence as he unlocks the hatch again “Ready for the barn?”

Nightmare nods and walks towards the small gate after making sure his gloves are empty of any chicken food.

They leave the little chicken area and move towards the barn.

The inside of the barn is warmer and Nightmare watches as both Crop and Straw remove their scarfs and their gloves. Nightmare keeps his on, thank you very much, it is still cold even if it is a bit less cold.

Crop leads the way and they find the cow relaxing in one of the pen things inside the barn.

Crop pets the cow “Hey there girl. How are you today?” Betty moos and pushes into the affection.

Nightmare is a bit unsure… the cow looks so much… bigger now… He kinda gets why Cross is afraid of them now… it is big and strong and can probably easily break one of his bones… probably more bones at once… he isn’t the strongest of sturdiest anymore and-

“You remember Nightmare right?” Crop sounds gentle as he speaks to Betty. The cow flaps one of her ears and looks around a bit. Spotting Nightmare hiding partly behind the wooden wall of the pen. Oh no.

Crop looks over and smiles “Ready to pet her again?”

Nightmare feels a bit more unsure and shrugs “I dunno…” how to get out of this?

Straw gives him a gentle nudge forwards “It will be nice!”

Nightmare isn’t so sure but slowly walks closer. Animals either love or hate him. There is no in between… Sure Betty seemed okay before but that was with Dust near and Dust you don’t mess with.

Still he slowly gets closer and reaches an arm and hand out. it shakes slightly.

Crop speaks softly “Hey… no need to be nervous… she is very nice and gentle and there is no real wrong way of petting her.”

Hah! Sure. Nervous!

His mitten covered hand reaches the cow’s head and he slowly gives it a pet. One. Two. Three. He pulls his hand back and takes a few steps back. There. He did it. Full marks.

Crop frowns at him while straw grins “see? All good! And look! She still remembers you and liked your petting!” he nudges him again.

Crop gives his brother a smile “I think that is enough. I think I best get him back inside before the wind picks up or it starts snowing. You mind finishing up?”

Straw frowns but looks outside at the dark clouds in the sky “That is for the best. Snow is probably about to happen very soon.”

Crop thanks his brother and he and Nightmare start to leave the barn. Crop frowns at him “Why didn’t you say you didn’t want to pet her?”

Damnit. Not the best at acting still. Nightmare shrugs “it wasn’t big of a deal…” it is more of a mumble than anything. How does he explain that at first he had liked the idea but then seeing the cow from ground level and having to look up at it made him nervous?

They exit the barn and are two steps further when they hear the shout “Nightmare!”.

Crop and him look up to see Cross sprinting at them. He gets to their side and picks Nightmare up as he shoots the barn a nervous look before focussing on him “Are you okay? cold? Hurt? sore? Tired?” he checks his temperature and relaxes “you good… you are fine…”.

Crop smiles as he crosses his arms “We know what to watch out for.”

Cross looks away embarrassed but doesn’t let Nightmare go out of his hug “I know! I mean we know that. It is just… I woke up and well… he wasn’t there… and I saw the note and I just…” he keeps holding him close.

Crop nods “Fair enough. We were just on our way back. But if you could take him back I can stop by the chickens to check if they are in the coop again.”

Cross is already a few steps towards the house before Crop finishes speaking “Yes. I got Nightmare you good luck with your chores!” and he quickly goes back to the house.

Nightmare frowns up at Cross. Weird… Cross normally didn’t even want to walk into the direction of the barn as he knew Betty was there… yet he came running for him…

Nightmare feels warm and safe and confused as he just leans more into Cross’s hold. Sure he knew they were safe but… this is different… it feels more. He only really started to notice it lately just how… how at home it feels. To be with them. Near them.

They get back inside and Nightmare spots Horror immediately. Horror frowns at them and Cross looks away shyly “I euh… got him already and-”

Horror just shakes his skull and looks pointedly at Cross “The note said both Crop and Straw were with him.” he gives him a long look “No reason to run out without a jacket.”

Nightmare blinks and turns only to now notice that Cross isn’t wearing anything over his pjs. Nightmare blinks and looks disapproving at Cross “You could get sick.”

Cross looks slightly panicked between them “I just! I panicked!” and Nightmare feels Cross pull him even closer.

Horror sighs but looks unsurprised. He takes a few steps over and Nightmare feels Horror take him from Cross. Horror easily holds him with one arm before pushing Cross towards the bathroom “Go warm up. I will get you clothes after I got Nightmare out of his outdoor clothes.”

Cross looks ready to object but after taking a look to at Horror and him he relaxes and easily agrees. He disappears into the bathroom.

Nightmare frowns as Horror and him sit down and Horror helps him easily out of his jacket and snowboots. Nightmare looks at the bathroom door before looking back at Horror “Why did he run out? Was the note not okay?” he thought with a note it would be fine. A note was normally all any of the guys needed to leave for each other.

Horror snorts a she shakes his skull “The note was very clear. I think it was just the fact it wasn’t any of us with you that made him nervous.” Horror makes sure his beanie is on right before putting the stuff for outside back by the front door “which is something Cross himself has to work on. Trusting others outside of our tight circle.”

Nightmare nods. It isn’t that surprising. After all the betrayal Cross has had to deal with.

Horror does shoot Nightmare a knowing look “But I think it was very brave of him. He ran towards the barn right?” Nightmare nods and Horror grins “very brave seeing as he considers that Betty’s territory.”

Nightmare feels that same warm and safe feeling again as he crosses his arms. Almost as if he is trying to hide the feeling as he mutters “I thought the same…”

Horror rubs his skull and Nightmare feels himself relax “Don’t worry about it okay? he is fine.” Then more thoughtful “Well… unless I get him clean clothes. Give me a moment.” And he disappears upstairs.

Nightmare still feels warm and cozy and safe and… well…

Loved.

--

Nightmare sits on the counter as he watches Horror, Straw and Crop work on dinner together. It is a whole thing and they had been at work since just after lunch. Straw is working on this giant turkey while Crop works on the side dishes. Horror is in charge of the desert and Nightmare just watches them work together.

It is nice. Even if he isn’t allowed to help.

Cross, Killer and Dust are moving stuff around in the living room. Setting up the table and games or something.

Straw checks the turkey again before nodding and moving towards the counter to work on this mutter mixture he had been dripping over the bird every so often “I still can’t believe none of you have ever celebrated Christmas!”

Yeah that is another thing that Nightmare just doesn’t know what it is exactly.

Horror snorts as he works on the frosting “Told you. Most of us only celebrated Gyftmas underground. And that was all about presents more than anything.”

Nightmare swings his legs as he gives his own answer “My universe just… didn’t have it.” hard to have  winter holiday without winter “just had harvest celebrations and stuff like that.” And the only one who ever got gifts was Dream anyway. So a party? To focus on celebrating family? It sounds real nice.

Straw looks deeply troubled by this “A child never having had the chance to experience the joy of Christmas? Ah. The multiverse is a rough and cruel place and fate is beyond unfair.”

Horror snorts and nods “Very true.”

Crop frowns “We aren’t big on presents with Christmas in this universe… if we had known…”

Horror shakes his skull “No worries. None of us celebrated it in a long time and it has… rough memories for all of us. This is nice. A new tradition.” Horror looks at what he made and holds a tiny spoon up to Nightmare “What do you think? Tasty enough?”

Nightmare gives Horror an unimpressed look “Everything you make is tasty.” But he isn’t going to pass up a chance for an early taste and happily tastes it. As expected. Delicious. He hums happily and nods “Very tasty.”

Horror chuckles and puts the frosting in the fridge before moving on to the next part of the cake.

Nightmare is eventually removed from the kitchen to wait with the others in the warm fireplace lit living room. Something about making sure he is safe as the kitchen is about to be hectic. Which is just nice words for him having to stay out of the way.

Killer pokes his cheek and grins “such a grumpy baby.”

Nightmare pouts and crosses his arms “I could have helped…” somehow…

Killer grins “Of course. Just not in the chaos and hectic energy of preparing a bit feast. The timing is everything and can get stressful.”

Nightmare gets it but still…

Killer grins “If it makes you feel any better. Us three were banned from the very beginning. You were at least allowed to stay in the kitchen with them for most of the prep.”

Cross looks insulted but Dust just shakes his skull at him.

Killer grins “What? We all know it is the truth.” And he winks at Nightmare.

Huh… that does make him feel a bit better.

A bit later the three cooks bring out the food and they sit at the table.

You would think that seven at the table would get complex but they manage. Nightmare is pretty sure they made the seating arrangement with Dust’s situation in mind.

Seeing as Horror is sitting between Dust and Straw. Making it almost impossible for Dust to see the other Papyrus. And with Straw speaking in another accent the voice is not familiar enough to trigger him.

Killer sits at the table head, next to Dust. And Nightmare sits on his other side with Cross on his own other side. Crop sits across from his brother next to Cross. The other head end of the table is against the wall.

It is nice. Straw proudly cuts his turkey as Horror easily moves the dishes around the table to whoever has an interest.

It is all delicious and smells so nice. Everyone is relaxed and laughing and just enjoying themselves.

Everyone it so happy.

After the main course Cross helps with putting the food away as Horror puts the last few finishing touches to his cake which he brings out. It is vanilla with delicious banana frosting with tiny chocolates. It is so good and everyone agrees.

Nightmare is honestly feeling sleepy already by the time it is time to play some games and relax by the fireplace. Nightmare is on the same team as Dust and leans heavily against him as they start a game of catan.

Nightmare feels himself fall asleep before everyone even had their first turn.

He just hears them talk as he dozes against Dust’s side. He feels himself be moved and he makes sure to make his displeasure known. Dust just mumbles a soft reassurance to him that he can stay asleep. He leans against the other and hears Dust’s soulbeat against the side of his skull.

It is calm and soft and Nightmare feels his whole being relax more and more. His own soul slowing and calming down as well.

The feeling is familiar at this point. He gets it a lot when he is being held by any of them. But it is so much clearer and so much stronger when he feels sleepy.

Like another hug. Relaxing him more and more and pulling him towards sleep.

He isn’t sure how long he stays just like that. In Dust’s lap and arms. Happily half asleep as he listens to the others. Sometimes sleeping fully for short periods of time.

Nightmare is pulled from his sleep as Dust gets up. He blinks open his sockets and looks around confused, why are they moving?

Dust nuzzles his skull and mutters softly against his skull “we are just going to bed.”

Nightmare hums and pushes closer to Dust again. Following the soft reassurance send to him form the adult soul so close. Calling out to his very being that it is okay to sleep and rest.

He notices that someone is helping him into his pjs and helps him brush his teeth. Nightmare can still hear movement downstairs as the others no doubt clean up everything.

Nightmare is laid down in bed and he immediately pushes his skull deeper into the pillow.

A soft chuckle “Comfy tiny boss?”

Oh. Killer is with him now?

Nightmare just hums. A weight joins him and a blanket is pulled over him. Two arms pull him close and another adult soul is near. Different then Dust’s. Much louder. So it really is Killer. The message remains the same though. It is safe. I got you. You can rest.

Just… He knows that is the message.

Killer hums and whispers to him “That is it baby. Just sleep.”

Nightmare pushes closer to the other and willingly succumbs to sleep. *----------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[thatbuddie]

you seriously cannot make this up: you have people reblogging fic featuring a racist character as half of the main ship in the morning then trying to give morality lessons in the evening by calling others homophobic over a joke.

THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE, BABES.

[morningmask27]

Tonight, right now, not even ten minutes ago, might have been the closest I got to an outright hatecrime

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

such kind of lyrics always make me think of young carlo 😭😭 (this song is so fun but its on ru)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[gay-victorian-astronomer]

i would loveeee to hear ur kimnapping fic idea….

It's really not a super fleshed out idea— the most I have actually pinned down is 1) Kim (& maybe also Harry) gets kidnapped 2) some amount of whump occurs which involves 3) Kim Survivor's Guilt Kitsuragi being a self-sacrificial little shit and 4) mutual unrequited pining that the kidnapping situation forces them to resolve. Basically all of the details are up in the air— this makes great "think about at bedtime" material because I don't need to care about those. If I were to turn it into an actual fic I would need to actually iron those out.

Honestly the biggest plot hole is that I can't figure out who is kidnapping him and why— there's the old standby of Oh Shit It's the Moralintern, but that's also kind of already been done. It could be the Madre or one of the other besmerties— but I still need to figure out why. I like the idea of it being related to something in Harry's past— it plays nicely into the self-sacrificial themes I'd like to include if it's Kim getting caught in the crossfire of something, or the kidnappers using him as bait to get at Harry somehow... things I'd need to flesh out.

The only other little thing I want to make sure I include is somehow using Kim's notebook against him— I see that working well with the unrequited pining situation, especially if he's written stuff about having feelings for Harry in the notebook and the kidnapper reads it...

[aemiron-main]

If you guys thought i was insane for the mike and food analyses just wait until we get to the victor and food analyses. i have so many thoughts all the time

[misskamelie]

Having a cousin with a newborn child really makes you realize how out of touch you are with societal expectations

[magnoliamyrrh]

especially bc if theres one thing speaking to ppl on complicated subjects has taught me, and actually getting across to them, is that actually, yea. often times being able to talk and rationalize and keep your cool achieves 3000% more than yelling, screaming, insulting, or anything else does. oh, it sure is harder. oh, its an emotional toll. and you really wanna just call them stupid or tell them to fuck off. but the changes of getting somewhere are much better

there are people which will not change. there are ppl which do not want to hear. there are people which are set to remain in their ways..... but many people are capable of change. maybe people are capable of growth..... and i think... ultimately many ppl wanna be "good," whatever good means in their eyes. and playing off of that to your advantage helps

[viderose]

he’s annoying, i don’t like him (he hasn’t given me as much attention lately)

[calamitydaze]

if elon kills privtwt literally what are me and 60 of my closest friends gonna do it’ll be horrible