#this was a very nice thing to wake up to in the morning

[bloggerspam]

Fic of a Fic: Caroline meets Ellie

This is a direct homage to @clockwayswrites Caroline from their fic A Hill to Die on.

Ya'll can blame @deathlysilent13 for this.

Disclaimer: I am not super familiar with alters or systems, and in this AU Tim isn't thinking about it/stumbled into it--please do not take this an accurate experience in any way! It's just for fun :)

===

"You're pretty. Do you like boys?"

Caroline blinks. looking to her left and right, trying to find the source of the chipper voice.

It's 3am in the morning, she's just spent the last 5 hours dancing in heels—she can be forgiven for taking a little long to realize that the voice is coming from slightly below her sight line.

When she finally (blearily) looks down, a girl of maybe 7 or 8 is looking up at her with wide, bright blue eyes.

"Thank you." Caroline huffs a confused laugh, smiling as she leans down and braces on her knees to be a little closer and meet the little girls height. "You're quite the darling yourself you know."

"Thank you, I got it from my brother." The little girl blushes, apples of her cheeks truly working hard to turn the same shade as its namesake, but her wide-eyed curiosity is still not abated. "Do you like boys?"

"Yes, I do." Caroline tilts her head, biting her lip against a laugh. "But most boys don't like me."

"Well most boys are stupid." The little girl scrunches up her face in distaste, which is honestly too much cuteness for Caroline to handle right now. The Tim part of her is starting to wake up, albeit sluggishly, in the face of a possible lost child. "But my big brother isn't stupid! He's the best, actually."

"Oh?" Caroline looks around exaggeratedly, though she does scan the area the way Tim would. Nothing in particular to note. Weirdly empty for Gotham, but otherwise… "And where is this so-called best big brother? Little girl like you shouldn't be out and about so early."

The little girl looks shifty then, fiddling with her fingers and kicking up dust, mumbling. "He's still sleeping at his desk."

"His desk?" Caroline is a little worried now, truly. How far can a little kid walk? Caroline searches through her memories, but realizes that Tim's knowledge on such things would be heavily skewed and probably incorrect. Damian isn't the best example, and Tim used to stalk Batman. So.

"He fell asleep working." The little girl explains, before the beans truly spill out. "I'm supposed to be sleeping, but I wanted some milk, but Danny didn't have a blanket so I got him a blanket, and then I figured maybe he'd like some hot chocolate when he woke up, 'cause he always makes me hot chocolate when I can't sleep, or had a nightmare, but we didn't have any hot chocolate at home so I thought maybe I could get some hot chocolate, but the bodega's closed."

Caroline watches bemusedly as the little girl gesticulates her story, walking back and forth and presenting her case as if Caroline is the one who has the issue.

"And then I saw you, and you're like, really pretty, and I definitely think my brother would like you," The little girl beams up at her, as if she's done something great. "Jazzy said that Danny's been lonely, taking care of me all by himself. So I thought, if I can't give him hot chocolate, I can at least let him meet a pretty lady!"

Caroline laughs, she can't help it anymore, trying her best to stifle it in the echoes of the night. "Well now, that's very sweet of you!"

"Thank you!" The little girl wiggles in her happiness. "If you want to meet my brother, I think he'll be happy. We don't have to go if you don't want to though, Danny said consent is important."

"He's right." Caroline wipes a tear and smiles widely down at the little girl. "I'm also pretty sure he's going to be worried out of his mind when he wakes up and finds you gone, so how about we get you home, okay?"

"So you'll meet him???" The little girl jumps up and down in excitement, cheering, "He'll be soooo happy to meet a pretty lady like you!"

"That's very nice of you to say, darling." Caroline's eyes go half lidded in exhaustion, yawning as her smile quirks a little differently, Tim blinking a little more in the forefront. "But I'm afraid I'm not a lady most of the time. Most times, I'm a boy."

The little girl doesn't even hesitate. "Danny likes pretty boys too!" She reaches up a hand, as if waiting for Caroline, no, Tim? to take her hand and lead her home. "He'll be extra happy that you can be both!"

Tim doesn't know what to say to that—his skirt is starting to feel a little too tight, and his feet are killing him. Heels were a mistake, but at least his tights and sweater keeps him warm, even if it's off the shoulder and cropped. The sweater paws are appreciated at least.

"That's very equal opportunity of him." Tim decides to say, drawing it out as if unsure. It's very typical of Caroline to leaving Tim to clean up her messes. "But I'm not sure Danny wouldn't like a random stranger showing up on his doorstep with his little sister."

"Oh!" The little girl jolts, straightening up and putting her hand out for a handshake instead. "My name is Ellie Nightingale, I'm 8 years old, and I love my brothers and sister very much!"

"Hello, Ellie." Tim shakes her hand, deliberating before deciding fuck it. "My name is usually Caroline in this outfit."

Ellie eyes him up and down, scrutinizing him as she twists their clasped hands into a different hold and leading them seemingly towards her home. "But you're not Caroline now."

"I am not." Tim agrees, adjusting his gait into an awkward walk. His feet still hurt, but he's had worse as Red Robin. "Well, I am. But not. She went to…bed, I guess. So now I'm awake."

"What's your name now that you've woken up?" Ellie asks, stopping them at a crosswalk and looking both ways even though it's as empty as Gotham could ever get. Tim thinks on this for a moment, before again, deciding fuck it.

"It's Tim." He replies. "Caroline had a long night, and she thinks I'm better with children."

Ellie gives him a look for that. "I liked Caroline better."

Tim honks out a laugh, quickly covering it up with his free hand. "Sometimes I like Caroline better too."

"That's kind of sad." Ellie reaches up to pat Tim on his hip, the easiest place she can reach. "It's okay, Danny can like Tim better."

Tim feels his face hurt with how wide he's smiling. Kids are a riot. "Sometimes, when I'm a boy-boy, my name is Alvin."

Ellie shrugs. "Is he mean? If he's mean Dante might like him."

Tim, with a wobbly voice from holding in laughter, tries his best to answer. "He's sometimes a little mean."

"Dante can be mean with him. He's not as nice as Danny, but he's just as good of a brother." Ellie chirps, swinging their arms back and forth as she skips. "Do you have another name that Jazzy can like?"

"…I guess I was Todd Richards, once." Tim hums, swinging his arm with her and using his free hand to rub at his chin in thought. "Though he didn't stay long."

"Jazz doesn't like deadbeat men who leave." Ellie primly states, sticking her nose up. "Jazz deserves better."

"…Are you setting me up with all of your siblings?" Tim hesitantly asks, unsure how to explain that they're all monogamous, but like to share? He's never figured it out.

"No, just Danny." Ellie slants an offended look. "You have lotsa names but you're one person right?"

Tim feels lighter than a feather, and he's not sure how to explain that, so he settles for a nervous smile and nod. He's never actually sat down and thought through this whole identity thing in the first place—method acting gone wrong? Right?

Doesn't matter. Ellie's chill with it, so Tim's chill with it. Logic.

Take that, Dick. And Bruce. And Jason. And—

"It's okay to have a buncha names. I used to have a different name." Ellie continues over Tim's righteous thoughts, this time leading the way through a side alley. Tim is actually surprised how empty it is. "My creator was a dickbag though, and Jazzy said it's important for my i-den-ti-ty to have a proper one."

"Language." Tim bites his lip from snorting, noting the peculiar wording Ellie uses. "Creator?"

"Dante said it's okay if it's true." Ellie bites her lip, side-eyeing Tim as she pinches the fabric of her jeans. "And Danny says it's okay as long as Jazzy doesn't hear."

"Is that so?" Tim chuckles, subtly eyeing her fingers.

"It is so." Ellie sniffs, pinching the fabric of her jeans again. "Danny's the best like that." No pinching this time.

A tell. Tim hides his grin with a little cough. "Of course." Ellie seems to be pleased with Tim's agreeable actions.

They're just exiting the alley, coming around the bend, when the door to an apartment complex across the road swings forcefully open. A man, shirtless and NASA patterned pajama pants at barely cling to his hips shoots out, grabbing the before it slams against the wall, forcing it closed as gently as he can so that the security system locks engage. He's handsome even though his hair is a mess, with crease lines Tim can still see from all the way over here that indicate he was just asleep on possible pencil, maybe a screwdriver.

There are. Abs. And arms. Holy shit, those sure are arms.

Ellie perks up, zooming towards the man and dragging Tim with him. "Danny!"

"Ellie!" Danny's head whips up in their direction, the man running towards them with zero hesitation to scoop Ellie up into a hug. "Bug, you worried me, I woke up and you weren't there!"

Oh, shit, even his voice is nice, deep and raspy from sleep even through the sheer relief. Tim tries to focus on the conversation as Ellie recounts her obviously genius and completely founded (to her) reasoning on why she just had to leave the apartment, but ultimately fails.

Did he mention abs? And arms??

The man is taller than Tim by a good couple inches, and bulkier in the shoulders. He's robust, even with that shoulder to waist ratio that Tim (and Caroline) kind of want to aggressively bite at. Deliciously hunky, as Steph would say. He has a unique undercut that's all white, though the stop part of his hair is black as night.

His eyes almost glow green in the dinky streetlights, and Tim's kind of losing it at the soft helpless look the other man's giving his little sister once she's finished her explanation. He's got her sitting on one arm, holding her up so that their faces are level, with Ellie bracing her tiny hands on his shoulder and chest.

Tim kind of wants to cry.

"I know that—" Danny sighs, pinching his brow in a way only exasperated older brothers can. Tim knows, because Dick does it all the time. "I know that you're used to going out alone, but I thought we established that once you started living with me you'd tell me?"

Ellie purses her lips in what seems to be both guilt and indignation. "I did okay before. Nothing happened and I can take care of any bad guys!"

Danny's face crumples a bit for a flash of a moment, stabbing Tim in the heart like thirty million times. "Ellie, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I care. What happened before…" Danny sighs looking a little distressed and at a loss for words.

Ellie reaches over, smooths a tiny hand over Danny's furrowed brow. "Ok. M'sorry Danny. I love you."

Danny smiles then, once more helpless, "I love you too squirt." Then, as if finally noticing Tim, Danny coughs and turns abruptly red. Like, super concernedly red, actually. Tim's worried he might feint.

"Oh, Ancients, sorry," Danny adjusts Ellie to put her down, but she clings to him, still a little upset. Danny smoothly straightens back up, patting her on the back as she nuzzles into his neck.

Seriously, Tim might die.

"Thanks for bringing her back to me." Danny reaches a hand out, "My name's Danny. Is there any way I can repay you for finding her?"

Tim almost says please date me but thankfully, Bat-training has him calm, collected, and in total control of his mouth.

"It's no problem," Tim smiles his best smile—a little awkward in Caroline's fit, but Tim's no stranger to women's clothing. "And I didn't exactly find her." Tim chuckles as he darts a glance at a now perked up Ellie.

"I found them Danny!" Ellie proudly pronounces, wiggling in place in her excitement again before scrunching her face. "Well. I found Caroline. For you!"

"For me?" Danny confusedly tilts his head, even pointing a finger at himself. "Why would you—"

"Jazzy said you're lonely." Ellie whispers loudly into his ear, Tim trying to stifle his laughter as he bites his lips. "And Dante said that you need to find a friend to have sleepovers with."

Danny's face goes alarmingly red again, slapping a hand to cover his eyes as he groans in embarrassment.

"I'm going to kill them—nosey older—" Danny grumbles, before huffing and smiling apologetically at Tim. "I'm really sorry about this Miss Caroline—"

"He's Tim right now!" Ellie interrupts, yanking at Danny's ear and causing him to yelp. "Caroline went to bed. I like Caroline more, 'cause she's so pretty, see?"

Ellie points at all of Tim, which causes him to smile shyly. He notices that Danny follows where Ellie points, gulping when he meets Tim's eyes again. "Y-yeah, I see that squirt but—"

"But Tim's been really nice, he treats me like a proper person! Most people just think I'm a dumb kid."

"You're not dumb." Tim and Danny say in unison, which makes both of them squeak embarrassingly. So much for Bat-training.

"See! So I thought Tim could be for you, and I could play with Caroline sometimes, and Dante could play with Alvin—"

"Alvin?" Danny asks quietly, to which Tim flashes three fingers, before pointing to his head. Danny nods understandingly before focusing back on Ellie. The quick understanding and no reaction makes all sorts of butterflies bloom in Tim's gut. Like a little mosh pit of bugs. Maybe he needs coffee.

"—and so I said that Jazz deserves better than that, right Danny?" Ellie smooshes Danny's cheeks, making him look all sorts of ridiculous and cute. "Maybe we can even share Caroline!"

"-at's right squirt. S-he does." Danny says through his squished face. He scrunches his nose up—which makes their relation seem so very clear, Ellie's the spitting image of him—before bopping his forehead onto hers and making her giggle as she lets go of his face.

"So, uh. this is all very nice of you, Ellie. I, uhm." Danny glances at Tim, wincing a little, "I love that you did something so nice for me, but you can't gift people, so we're gonna let uh, Tim get on their way okay?"

Ellie pouts, wriggling out of Danny's grip to hide behind Tim and grab at his skirt. "But, but you like pretty ladies! And pretty boys!"

"Where did you even get this information?" Danny's voice cracks, frantically looking back and forth between Tim and Ellie as if he's not sure whether to be embarrassed or indignant.

"Sam said you like pretty ladies that look like they can beat you up." Ellie ticks a finger up, looking up as she recalls this info, "and Tucker said you like guys who look like they need to be taked care of."

Danny groans, head in his hands and hunching his shoulders up to scrunch up as small as he can even as Ellie steamrolls over the noise, "And Jazzy and Dante said that you need somebody that can be weird with you."

Danny jolts up, straightening as if he's found some kind of salvation. "Hey, that's right, and I'm sure Tim is a perfectly awesome guy, uh, girl?" Danny looks at Tim in distress, making Tim chuckle.

"Right now I'm a guy." Tim tries to keep his voice soft and low, smiling a little shyly. Distantly, he wonders if he's smudged Caroline's lipstick.

"Right!" Danny coughs, red again, "Right, so he's a perfectly normal guy and totally not weird, Okay, Ellie? C'mon, let's not take up more of Tim's night, okay?"

"I like weird." Tim nonchalantly says, innocent as he lays a hand on Ellie's back. "I mean, I've got at least three people sharing space in my noggin. Sort of." She beams up at him and snuggles closer to his leg, a warm line of comfort and affection. "We can be weird together, I think."

Danny flaps his mouth open and closed, at a loss for words. Tim's not about to explain this whole method acting turned stress relief gender euphoria turned alternate identity thing, so he plows on.

"I'm sometimes a lady—" Ellie interrupts him with an adamant pretty! "—a pretty lady that can definitely put you in your place." Tim does a slow up and down, Caroline peeking through in body memory even if she's not fully forefront.

It makes Danny do that cute little squeak again—-That's three times now, and Tim wants to know if he can manage a fourth. It also makes Danny remember how shirtless he is, making the other man twitch as if he might cover his chest but doesn't want to bring more attention to this fact so he restrains himself.

Tim licks his lips, staring at his pecs and—there's that fourth squeak and arms crossing over that delicious chest.

"And y'know," Tim goes a little shy now, scratching at the back of his neck, "I sometimes forget to sleep and eat." He shrugs with a little moue of distaste as the words he's about to say, "My family says I'm kind of a workaholic and need taking care of."

"Oh!" Ellie bounces up and down, tugging at Tim's skirt again, flashing a little hip that makes Danny eep and slap his hands over his eyes. Big guy like him should not be this freaking cute, seriously. "Oh! Jazzy says Danny's a work-a-ho-lic too!"

"Yeah?" Tim says to Ellie, even as he keeps eye contact with Danny as he's peeking through his fingers, "Guess that means I gotta at least give it a shot, right?"

Tim's not sure where this confidence is coming from: remnants of Caroline, being so free with his other…roommates, Ellie, or Danny's reactions, but it's bolstering him up.

It makes him bold, and kinda reckless. Mr. Sarcastic would approve.

"Yeah!" Ellie agrees, tugging Tim's hand into hers. She pulls him towards Danny, who obliging gives her his hand when she asks for it wordlessly with her own. "You gotta at least try. Jazzy said you give up too much for me!" Ellie makes the saddest, most pathetic looking pout Tim's ever seen. "I don't wanna be the reason you're sad and alone Danny!"

Danny bites his lip, looking at Tim for a long moment. Tim tries to smile reassuredly, to convey that he's totally on board for at least one date. (For maybe many many dates?) His shoulders slump, but his blush is still rampant. It's crawling down his neck, up his cheeks and bleeding into his ears.

He's the cutest thing Tim's ever seen at 4am in the morning.

"O-okay, uhm." Danny fumbles with his phone, "I-I could give you my number?"

"Sounds great." Tim shyly smiles as they exchange numbers, Ellie keeping both their hands hostage as if they might run away the second she lets go. Good thing Tim's ambidextrous. "I'll call you, maybe set something up this weekend?"

"It's a date." Danny smiles, Ellie squealing in excitement and cheering as she finally lets go to jump around.

Just as they get ready to part ways, Ellie tugs at Tim's skirt again, cupping her hands in a bid for Tim to crouch down and lend an ear. He does so obligingly.

"Can Caroline wake up for a second so I can say goodbye?" She whispers loudly. Tim smirks a little, rummaging up the vestiges of Caroline and sort of—blinks.

"Goodnight darling." Caroline does a sly little smile, kissing Ellie on the cheek and winking up at Danny. "And you were right! Your brother is the best."

Ellie beams, giving her a kiss on the cheek back. "Good night, Caroline!"

[itstheghostofmypast]

🔥Overwhelmed🔥

Corporate AU Wooyoung x (F)Reader

Summary: No one could stop swiper when his queen was overwhelmed.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.1 K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Rating: SFW

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

Banner: @cafekitsune

A/N: I'd like to thank @edenesth for this picture- and dedicate this to her - my corporate queen.

Overwhelmed

That was one way to describe how you were feeling right now, from the way your admin had dumped everything on your department to the way clients were ringing your phone like you owed them money- incorrect, you had nothing to do with anything that had happened. The missing records, unfilled forms, lack of digitisation of pre existing documents, somehow ended up being given to you- sure, you knew with great power came an even greater responsibility, but being team leader did not mean you were willing to become a punching bag of your superiors.

To top it all off during your break an idiotic colleague from the IT department had decided to come at you for something, yelling at you, ruining your gaming session- the 30-40 minutes of peace you'd have during work- and in the end it turned out to be not your desktop that had an issue, the virus was in the lady in the cubicle next to yours. During that drama, you had been reported and banned from the game for 24 hours. It was wonderful, it was just wonderful. What were you going to do on your drive back home now?

The worst thing of all was that you were unable to see the only person who'd make your day bearable, the only person who'd wake you up gently every morning, with a soft damp tissue gently pressing against your closed lids, then his warm lips against your own before he'd whisper sweetly in your ear, “Time to dominate the day, my queen.” The same person who'd have your breakfast waiting for you as soon as you'd rush out of the room all dressed, forcing you to sit down and eat with him, sometimes feeding you if you'd try to say you were in a rush. The only person who would spend the night with you, choosing your clothes, shoes and accessories, ensuring to match his tie and socks with your clothes, “Pink shirt huh…welp, pinks socks it is.”- yes, he had worn pink socks and a pink tie, which most men at work found funny, but most women at work found it adorable.

Hence, now, you were sitting in your cubicle, staring at the spreadsheet, wondering what you had done to deserve this. Maybe you were too nice? Maybe you wronged someone? Maybe you - the irritating ringing of your phone had you heave out a sigh and pick it up, letting out a tired, “Hello?”

“Excuse me, miss, this is the police. You're under arrest for being so damn hot that your boyfriend is willing to commit murder for you.”

A chuckle broke past your lips as you sighed, leaning against the seat and humming, “Ah…really? Well, Mr.Police, I'm a bit busy right now, so I'll have to get back to you soon.”

“Nonsense.”

You heard from the phone and from behind you, causing you to turn around, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder, facing the man holding his phone to his ear with one hand and in his other hand he held a white box.

Hanging up, he placed it on the desk before pushing your keyboard aside, causing you to gasp in disapproval, “Silence my queen.” He demanded before flipping open the box and showing you the sweet treat that you had been eying for a while. You'd glance at it everytime you'd buy your morning coffee, knowing very well it was the bakery's best selling treat, but you'd postpone it often, for various nonsense reasons, as Jung Wooyoung would claim.

“Woo…” you glanced up at him with a pout, “Work…I have work-”

“It's 6 p.m. No more work, only cake!” He declared dragging a stool next to your chair and handing you a spoon, “I was away for one meeting, and I came back to my queen in shambles? The nerve of people - just you wait, I'll punch San in the face for leaving you like this.”

“Woo…his wife was giving birth.” You shook your head in defeat and amusement, suddenly remembering another reason to your glum mood, you had missed your boss and his wife- your friend's birth of their first child.

“I know. Where'd you think I got the cake from.”

Your eyes widened at the statement before flickering to the cake, squinting at the small card that had, “Congratulations, it's a girl!” written on it.

“YOU STOLE HIS CAKE!?”

Your screech echoed in the empty office followed by his shameless cackle, and a “REVENGE SHOULD BE SWEET, MY QUEEN!”

“JUNG WOOYOUNG!?”

He rolled his eyes at your yelling and scooped up a good amount of cake and pressed it against your lips, “Say ahhh…I got coffee too.”

Taking in a deep breath you reminded yourself that the intention behind this was sweet, and that later, perhaps tomorrow you'd be apologising to the new parents with another cake and a gift for their new born baby. Parting your lips you let him feed you, closing your eyes in pure bliss, instantly forgetting about everyone and everything, wanting nothing more to smooch the man infront of you for blessing you with this wonderful, sweet, delicious treat.

The moment you opened your eyes, you realised that his lips were on yours, and you gently pushed him away, swallowing and mumbling, “Y-you idiot we’re at work.”

“Don't worry, ain't nobody here but us and this cake.”

You shook your head in amazement. This day had been shit, but at least you had your personal little clown, your companion, your lover, and your little thief swiping around and getting you treats. As the thoughts processed you had somehow started crying, tears rolling down your cheeks that you realised when you felt him wipe them with his thumb, giving you a small smile, “It's okay… its okay to feel overwhelmed, love…the world won't hate you if you take a little break.”

Nodding at his statement you let him pull you in a hug, your head resting against his shoulder as he gently stroked you back, mumbling, “Their daughter is beautiful…I'm glad she takes after the mom…imagine if her head was as big as his…pushing it out would've been hell.”

His smile widened at the sniffled laughter, hugging you closer as he eyed the cake that San’s wife had insisted he take back to you, knowing how you had to handle her husband’s load today and how the lack of a Jung in your life today may have overwhelmed you. She was right. Perhaps she was a good friend- welp. He was gonna swipe the cake anyway, Mrs.Choi only caught him and laughed it off.

“Woo…”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you…” you mumbled, moving back before you started eating again, taking a sip of your coffee, realising how hungry you were, how grateful you were, how loved you were. It really was a blessing to have someone like Jung Wooyoung in your life - no matter what kind of chaos he brought with him.

“Anything for you…my queen.” He whispered, watching you eat in peace, chin in palm as he admired you, taking in your tired posture and eyes, naturally you were tired and exhausted, drained and overwhelmed- no matter, he'd make sure to fix all that. It was his job to keep his queen, the love of his life, safe and happy.

[the-lux-archives]

Okay one of my favourite things about Glinda is the fact that she's not pretentious. Hear. Me. Out.

Usually, the rich, popular girl character is either virtue signalling and raking in money. Tahani for example. Or she's Regina George type mean girl.

The thing I love so much about Glinda is that she's a realist. She never claims to be something she's not. Sure her words are flowery but anything she offers to do, anything she refuses to do it's all genuine. She never once says anything she doesn't mean. Even when the Munchkins ask her about Elphie she gives vague answers and awkward chuckles, she never lies and says 'I have no idea what you're talking about.' When she offers to de-greenify Elphaba it's not because people are around, she genuinely believes she's going to be good enough at magic to "help" Elphaba, this mindset later changes and she never brings it up again.

Glinda knows the world for what it is and takes that reality. She's crippled by it and she takes it in stride. She sacrifices everything for that conformity because she's a people person. She needs and wants attention and love, so she's willing to do what is necessary for it.

The entirety of 'Popular' is about her nuanced, very accurate understanding on how the world functions and she's right! The world is one big popularity contest and she's done everything that she can to come out on top.

Glinda is wrapped up in all pink and coquettish cuteness but she's probably one of the only characters in Wicked who right off the bat know, that it's all just a show. A nice little show to hide the slights of society.

Yes, she's miserable because of it and she probably wakes up every morning mourning what could have been but she understands that is the price she has to pay.

Glinda is fascinating because a lot of us wonder, how can a person know so much, understand so much yet not take a stand. Look to Glinda, that's how. Her entire character is about how people simply succumb to the evils of society.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 10

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, tension

I woke up the next morning at 9.30 am, pulling the eye mask over my head as the sunlight flooded in my entryway. Stretching, I let out a yawn and checked my phone. Still no response from Matt. Not that I was expecting any after being left on read.

Brushing it off, I got up and threw on my slippers. Nick and I we going shopping at 11, and the idea of getting out of the house lifted my mood. But first I needed coffee, desperately.

I dragged my feet downstairs to the kitchen and made myself a quick breakfast, scrambled eggs on toast and coffee from the Keurig. Simple but enough to wake me up. While I ate, I doom scrolled on my phone, pausing every so often to read back over my messages with Matt. Still no reply.

I don't know why it frustrated me, I guess I just wanted answers. I rinsed my plate, set it in the dishwasher, and headed into the bathroom to get ready. It was nice to not feel rushed or that I was bothering Matt by taking my time in here. The hot water from the shower was just what I needed. I stayed under longer than usual, it was a small luxury, but I enjoyed it.

After finishing up and drying my hair, I walked back up to my room, pulling open my closet. My eyes immediately landed on the yellow Ralph Lauren jumper Nick had given me yesterday. I threw it on and paired it with my favorite jeans and white sneakers. I glanced at myself in the mirror, adjusting the jumper. It was slightly oversized but felt snug in all the right ways. I sprayed my perfume over myself to finish it all off.

“Perfect” I muttered to myself before grabbing my bag.

Nick opened his bedroom door, ready to go with an eager grin on his face. “Ready to spend some money?” he asked, holding Chris’ card up.

Nick ordered an uber and suggested we check in on Nate to see if he needed anything while we were out. I followed him down the stairs to Chris’ room. Nick gently knocked on the door before peeking inside. "Still out cold" he whispered, shaking his head with a small grin. I glanced past him and saw Nate sprawled across the bed, tangled in Chris’ blanket, looking completely unbothered by the world. 

"Kids on a two day hangover by the look of it, what did you do to him?" Nick laughed, closing the door quietly before turning to me with a shrug. 

"Don’t ask me, maybe he just can’t keep up like I can. Let’s just get him some snacks anyway, he’ll probably appreciate them when he finally wakes up."

The uber arrived an we hopped into the car, the Uber driver was really friendly and even let us have AUX. Nick seized the opportunity and started blasting one of his favorite playlists. The drive to the mall was filled with his off key singing while the driver laughed. It was impossible to be in a bad mood when Nick was like this, completely carefree and full of energy.

We arrived at the bustling mall, and I was instantly reminded of how much I loved and hated these places. The endless options were both exciting and overwhelming. Nick, of course, was in his element.

“Okay, first things first” he declared, clapping his hands together. “You need a suitcase. Like a good one, something sturdy.”

I followed him through the luggage section of a department store, pulling at the endless rows of suitcases in every size and color. I settled on a large suitcase in a turquoise shade. It was light but durable, with smooth wheels and plenty of compartments for organizing.

“This one feels very.. you” Nick said, wheeling it toward the register. “Now we just need to fill it"

Next, we headed to the clothing stores. The first thing to look for was swimwear. I sifted through racks of bikinis, one pieces, and cover ups while Nick hovered nearby, occasionally pulling something out and holding it up.

“This is cute” he said, holding a bright coral bikini against me.

“Too bright” I replied, shaking my head.

“You’re going to Hawaii! Bright is the point.”

We compromised on a mix of neutral and vibrant pieces, including a black one piece with a scoop back and a yellow bikini that Nick insisted matched the jumper he’d given me.

From there, we moved to outfits. Sundresses, flowy skirts, tank tops, and breathable shorts for getting in and out of the pool all made their way into my shopping bags. A wide brimmed sun hat and a pair of oversized sunglasses were also thrown into the mix.

“You’re going to look like you’re in a Vogue ad with those on” Nick teased as we passed the checkout.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves” I shot back, laughing.

The last thing on our list was footwear. I grabbed a pair of comfortable sandals and white sneakers that would pair well with most outfits. Nick talked me into buying a pair of wedge heels “just in case” I wanted to dress up a bit fancier for dinner.

With every bag we accumulated, the excitement for the trip grew. Nick carried most of them without complaint, weaving through the mall like a man on a mission, while I lugged the suitcase behind me.

“Shit” he said.  “We forgot toiletries. Let’s go.”

We loaded up on mini shampoo bottles, sunscreen, bug spray, and anything else that could fit into the clear bag at security. I also grabbed a neck pillow for the flight and a small blanket.

“I think we went a little overboard” I admitted, looking at everything we had.

“No such thing" Nick replied, starting the engine. “You’re going to Hawaii. You deserve to look and feel amazing! Now, shoes again” Nick declared.

“But I already got shoes” I protested.

“You don’t have these shoes” he said, dragging me into another store.

Before I knew it, I’d added a pair of espadrilles and waterproof slides to my collection. At this point, I was sure I had enough to outfit myself for a two month long trip, not just two weeks in Hawaii.

“Okay” Nick said, stretching dramatically. “I’m starving. Let’s get food.”

We headed to a nearby bistro that had outdoor seating. The warm sunshine paired with the scent baked goods was heavenly. I ordered a chicken and cheese sandwich, while Nick opted for a salad.

As we waited for our food, Nick checked his phone and grinned.

“Chris’s phone is dispatched” he said. “Should be here later today.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Finally. It’s been so weird not being able to get in touch with him directly.”

Nick nodded, taking a sip of his iced tea. “Yeah, I’d say Matt doesn't know what to do now that his phone actually gets messages.”

The mention of Matt and messages nearly makes me turn red.

“What time are they getting home today actually?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Nick shrugged. “Sometime later tonight. They booked a nighttime flight.”

I nodded, trying not to read too much into it. The food arrived, and we dug in, enjoying the rare moment of quiet.

After finishing our meal, Nick glanced at the mountain of shopping bags we’d accumulated and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“There’s no way we’re fitting this all in a normal car.” he declared, rubbing his temples dramatically.

I laughed. “You’re the one who kept saying, ‘Oh, just get it! It’s perfect!’”

He rolled his eyes. “And I don’t regret it one bit, but let’s be real. We need reinforcements, or at least a bigger car.”

Nick pulled out his phone and started tapping away. A moment later, he said, “Uber XL. It’s the only way we’re fitting all of this and ourselves into one ride.”

I nodded in agreement, looking at the bags around us. There were at least three overflowing ones just from the boutique alone, plus the suitcase we’d bought earlier that took up a ridiculous amount of space.

“Good call” I said.

Within minutes, a shiny black mini van pulled up outside the bistro. The driver stepped out, taking one look at us and our bags, and raised an eyebrow.

“Shopping spree?” he asked with a grin.

“You could say that” Nick replied with a chuckle. 

The driver helped us load everything into the trunk, which, despite being spacious, was a tight fit. Once everything was secured, we hopped into the backseat, relieved to finally be off our feet.

As the car pulled away, Nick leaned back and sighed contentedly. “I’m never going shopping without an Uber XL again. This is the only way to do it.”

I laughed, leaning my head against the window as we cruised through the city. My thoughts drifted to Hawaii and all the outfits I’d packed for, the sunshine, the beaches. I felt a little buzz of excitement, like maybe this trip would be exactly what I needed.

We arrived home just near 3pm. Nick pushed the front door open with his hip, three shopping bags dangling from each hand, I followed closely behind, lugging the suitcase and two additional bags. The sheer weight of it all, especially the suitcase made me huff as I maneuvered it over the step into the house.

We paused just inside, catching our breath, when faint voices floated down from upstairs. My ears perked up, and I immediately recognized the voices. Chris and Matt.

Nick frowned, glancing back at me. “Are they.. here?”

“Surely not?” I replied, adjusting my grip on the suitcase. “You said their flight wasn’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Nick shrugged, then headed up the stairs. I struggled to hoist the suitcase up the first few steps, the wheels knocking against the edges of each one.

“Could use some help here” I muttered, but Nick was already out of sight, more curious about the voices upstairs than my struggle.

By the time I reached the top, dragging the suitcase behind me, I could hear Nick questioning the guys.

“What the fuck are you two doing back so early?” he asked, standing in the hallway with a confused look.

Chris grinned, arms wide open as he stepped forward and dramatically pulled Nick into a bear hug. “What, I can’t miss my brother and come home early to see him?”

Nick groaned but didn’t pull away. “Chris you were gone for two whole days. Seriously though. What’s the deal? You weren’t supposed to land until later tonight.”

Matt leaned against the doorframe of his room, arms crossed and looking mildly amused. Chris finally released Nick and laughed.

“Man, we were so hungover yesterday that we couldn’t bear the thought of sitting around Vegas all day today waiting for a late flight. So, we booked an earlier one before we hit the strip last night” Chris explained.

Nick shook his head, muttering something about impulsiveness, before turning back toward me. “You hear that? Weak.”

I smirked, finally dropping the suitcase with a thud. Chris glanced over at me, his smile softening.

“Hey, Y/n” he greeted.

“Hey” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face and wondering why seeing him felt like a surprise.

As Chris glanced around, he ran a hand through his hair. "Yo, Nick, have you seen my business card? I swear I had it before we left for Vegas."

Nick smirked, clearly trying to rile him up. "I have it" he said casually, glancing at me standing there with my brand new suitcase and an absurd number of shopping bags.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, can I have it back, genius?"

"Maybe" Nick teased, then pivoted. "Oh, by the way, your new phone should be here later today. You’re welcome."

I stood awkwardly at the top of the stairs, fully aware of Matt’s presence just a few feet away. He hadn’t said anything yet, but the tension was undeniable.

Finally Matt’s voice cut through the air, his tone sharper than necessary. "What’s with the suitcase? You finally moving out?"

I blinked, caught off guard by his comment. Before I could respond, Nick jumped in.

"It’s for Hawaii" Nick said as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually.

Matt’s confusion was obvious, his brows furrowing deeply. "Hawaii? You already have a suitcase that size."

Nick shook his head, grinning like he was about to drop a bombshell. "It’s not for me, Einstein. It’s for Y/n."

Matt turned to me, his expression instantly hardening like he’d just been sucker punched. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I swore he looked genuinely hurt.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and he looked like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. His eyes flicked to me again, unreadable, before he straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Wow some trip this is going to be then." he muttered before disappearing into his room, the door closing behind him, quiet but firm.

The hallway felt colder, and I avoided Nick’s gaze, pretending to fiddle with one of the bags. Chris, oblivious as ever, clapped Nick on the shoulder.

"Alright, where’s my card?"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "Not so fast, bro. You’re helping me unpack this stuff first."

As the two of them headed off upstairs, I stood there, staring at Matt’s closed door, feeling a wave of something I couldn’t quite name. Guilt? Frustration? Maybe a mix of both. But I quickly shook it off and grabbed the suitcase, dragging upstairs toward my room and telling myself not to overthink it. Once everything was up in my room, Nick dropped his load dramatically on the floor, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

"Alright, that’s my good deed for the day" Chris said, brushing his hands together like the work was done.

"You’ve been so helpful" I said sarcastically as I started sorting through the bags.

Chris smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "You going to pack tomorrow?"

Nick shook his head. "Nah, we’re starting to pack now. No point in waiting till tomorrow morning and rushing."

Chris raised an eyebrow, watching me open the suitcase and start placing clothes inside. "If only I was that organised" he laughed, walking further into the room. His eyes immediately went to the Fresh Love samples hung up by the closet.

He stepped closer, tilting his head to get a better look. "Woah" he said, running his fingers lightly over one of the pieces. "These look even better in person. The photos don’t do them justice."

I glanced over at him, feeling a bit of pride in his compliment. "Thanks. I really like them.”

Chris nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "I ordered some personalized samples for us all to be delivered to our villa in Hawaii. Thought we could take some pictures out there for a night time shoot, maybe use them for promos. I got us all varsity jackets with our initial on them, and then some other pieces I thought everyone would like."

Nick perked up at that, clearly impressed. "That’s such a good idea! Especially since it's cold at night" he said, nudging me with his elbow.

I smiled at both of them, my chest swelling a bit with pride. "I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get some shots out there" I admitted, picturing how amazing the pieces would look in a tropical setting.

Chris picked up one of the sample pieces, holding it out. "Yeah, these are gonna kill it. People are gonna go nuts over this drop."

I nodded, the excitement of everything bubbling under the surface. For the first time in a while, I felt like things were coming together, and the thought of getting to share it in such a beautiful setting made it even better.

Chris set the sample back on the rack and stretched, letting out a small yawn. "Alright, I’m gonna go check in with Nate" he said, glancing toward the stairs. "He was still knocked out when I peeked into his room earlier. Probably still recovering from your crazy night out."

Nick gave him a nod. "Yeah, sounds about right.”

Chris chuckled. "I’ll catch you guys in a bit." With that, he turned and headed out of the room, the sound of his footsteps fading as he made his way downstairs.

Nick, without missing a beat, grabbed his pile of shopping bags and suitcase and walked toward his own room, which was right next to mine. “I’m leaving the door open so we can pack together. This way, I can judge your packing skills and make sure you don’t leave anything important behind."

I rolled my eyes but laughed. "Oh, because you’re the authority on packing now?"

Nick grinned as he disappeared into his room, propping his door open so we could still talk. "Absolutely. I’m a seasoned traveler, unlike you. I’ve got the technique down to a science."

I could hear him rustling through his bags, muttering about how he might need to pick up another pair of shorts before we left. Meanwhile, I started folding my clothes neatly into the suitcase. 

Nick's voice carried over from his room as I heard the distinct sound of a zipper being tugged open. "Alright" he began, "Let’s see what we’ve got here. Swim trunks, check. I brought the neon ones this time.."

I laughed, picturing him strutting around in the loudest pair of swim trunks he could find. "You really need neon to stand out? Thought your personality did that already."

"Ha ha" he shot back. "No, but seriously, you’ll thank me when you’re trying to spot me in the ocean. Anyway.. tank tops. Got a few new ones, including that white one you said looked good. Oh, and my black button up for dinners. Can’t be showing up to a nice restaurant looking like I just rolled off the beach."

The sound of him rifling through bags grew louder. "Flip flops, sneakers, maybe I should bring those prada loafers.. what do you think?"

 "Definitely bring the loafers for dinners. You’ll regret not having them."

"Good call" he replied, tossing them into his suitcase. "Alright, what else? Oh, sunscreen, got the high SPF stuff this time. Learned my lesson after that beach trip last summer. And hats! Gotta protect this money maker " he added, gesturing dramatically at his face.

"You’re ridiculous" I said with a laugh.

"Ridiculously prepared" he corrected. 

I shook my head, smiling to myself as I continued to fold my clothes. "You sound like you’re moving away for good, not going on a vacation."

"Hey!" he called out, "you’re gonna thank me when you’re borrowing my stuff because you forgot something."

"Bold of you to assume I’d forget anything" I shot back, neatly placing my toiletries into my bag.

Nick peeked his head into the hallway. "Care to make a bet on that?"

I smirked. "We’ll see."

I glance around Nick’s room one last time, making sure he isn’t about to burst out again with some last minute comment, but all I hear is the sound of him collapsing onto his bed. “Alright, I’m taking a nap. All that shopping has me worn out” 

I laugh at how dramatic he was, and closed over his bedroom door to let him sleep. I zipped up my suitcase and placed it in the corner of my room.

Now in silence, I sit on the edge of my bed. The small envelope from the flowers catching my attention, sitting on my bedside locker. It feels like it’s mocking me, just sitting there like some unsolved mystery. My fingers twitch as I pick it up, turning it over in my hands. Why does something so small have such a big hold over me? I hate how awkward everything feels now again, how one card and a few unread messages can mess with my head so much.

But I can’t go to Hawaii like this. I’m actually excited for the trip, and I’ll be damned if Matt is going to ruin it for me with this unresolved weirdness.

Acting on impulse, I shove the card back into the envelope and stand up. My heart’s pounding as my legs move before my brain fully catches up. Next thing I know, I’m marching down the stairs, the envelope clutched tightly in my hand like a lifeline.

The closer I get to Matt’s door, the louder the rush of blood in my ears becomes. The house feels strangely quiet, the kind of stillness that makes you hyper aware of every movement. I stop just outside his room, hesitating for a second. Maybe I should think this through, figure out what I’m even going to say. But before I can overthink it, my hand is already on the door handle.

I push the door open without knocking, stepping inside before I can change my mind. Matt’s sitting on his bed, scrolling through his phone. He looks up, startled, as the door swings open.

“Uh, hello?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Ever heard of knocking?”

I ignore him, taking a step closer. “We need to talk.”

“About what?” he says, crossing his arms. “That you’re stealing Chris’ money and my clothes now?” He says, pointing at the yellow jumper I have on me.

Fuck this is his jumper.

No wonder the scent was familiar.

I take a deep breath, trying to not show how awkward I felt.

"About this. And about whatever game you think you’re playing." I say, holding up the envelope.

a/n: i <3 cliffhangers

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[spiderb00]

REST IN ME

Anora x reader 

“After everything Ani has been through, the universe has finally given her the peace she has always wanted, you.” 

Genre – Fluff       Warnings – Just comfort, my poor girl has suffered enough 

Now playing – Stargazing, by The Neighbourhood 

Anora was awakened by the rays of sunlight that came in through the half-open curtain. It was only seven in the morning, she didn't want to wake up so early, but just not having to wake up with the noises of the train passing practically inside her old house, she was already happy.  

Turning over on the bed, she reached for you, despite the sun streaming in through the window, she was starting to get cold now that you were no longer there to warm her up. She picked up the phone on the bedside table, looking at the time and sighing, where had you gone so soon? 

Ani had known you a two and a half years ago now, you and she met after all the traumatic experience she went through with Vanya. It took a long time for her to trust you after everything that rich jerk did to her, but at some point, she just accepted that she was falling in love with you. At the beginning of your relationship, she was extremely suspicious, always thinking that everything you did for her was an exchange, something dirty that hovered in her mind.  

All of these thoughts stopped after you confronted her, telling her that you understood all the traumas and that you loved her, but you wouldn't continue in a relationship where she didn't feel totally comfortable with you. After that, everything changed, she told you everything, her wishes, her dreams, her achievements, the bad things and the good things. When you asked her if she missed something, the only thing she said was "It was nice to be a trophy wife for a few days." 

So it was done, you weren't as rich as Vanya, but you could give everything Ani wanted. You worked in the real estate business from a very young age, following in your father's footsteps, the older man had left many teachings for you before leaving, and you managed to make good use of everything.  

Ani is the woman of your life, you knew how hard that girl had worked practically her entire life, and you were more than happy to give her everything she wanted. A house in a posh neighborhood? it was hers. A car? it was hers. Expensive trips? she had. Marriage and children? You were working on it. 

In the midst of all this, Ani understood that there was a big difference about how Vanya treated her and how you treated her. She didn't want to make comparisons, but at one point, it was simply impossible to say that she had the same trophy wife experience with the two of you. Despite the expensive gifts and without doing any work, Ani understood that having sex and watching that spoiled idiot play video games was not very well the definition of a trophy wife. 

 You adored Ani, you would lick the floor she walked on if she asked you to, you were devoted to her. Money wasn't the only thing that made Ani look powerful, you made her look that way. Ani had one certainty with you, you were in love with her, you loved her above all, you would do anything for her. 

In the little things, all the little gestures and attitudes were what made Ani sure that you loved her deeply, the peace and tranquility of being loved that she had never received from anyone before, the calm and peace of knowing that you would solve any problem, as an adult.  

Going downstairs, Ani saw your dog lying in the living room, near the couch. Nico had been rescued by you in an alley, while you were going to visit Ani at her old house. You took him along with you to the date you and she would have that day, it was kind of a pretext for Ani to finally come and live with you. 

You and Ani were sitting on the towel, the little ball of fur lying on your girlfriend's lap, his little eyes closing with the caresses she made on his head.  

"Hey, if I knew you would steal my girlfriend's attention I wouldn't have brought you." You said, a whisper loud enough for Ani to hear and let a giggle escape, lightly pushing your shoulders.  

"Stop, it's not his fault that he's cuter than you." Hearing her words, you threw yourself back, your back resting on the thin fabric, which made you feel the grass beneath it.  

"Ouch, I'm dying! Please someone help me, this beautiful woman just stabbed my heart!" You said, a little too loud, making Ani turn towards you and cover your mouth, still giggling at your childish behavior. 

"Shut up, you idiot, do you want everyone to listen to your little drama?" Ani watched your eyes widen and then you tried to scream again.  

Your muffled words could be heard only by Ani, who still had her hand against your mouth, to prevent a scene. Seeing that you had finally finished with your little theater, she let you go, instantly seeing the big smile on your face.  

"You're so stupid." The brunette said, rolling her eyes as she tried to hide a laugh.  

"And you're very BORING!" You shouted the last part, taking Ani – by surprise – by the shoulders and making her lie down next to you. 

Unable to hide her laughter this time, the woman laughed out loud, making the little puppy jump between you and bark. With your attention focused on the little puppy, you supported your weight on one of your elbows, turning to your girlfriend and placing the puppy between the bodies of the two of you. 

 "So, do you have a name suggestion?" You asked, petting the puppy, who was now lying on his back, one of his paws moving when you scratched in the right place. 

"How about Nico?" The brunette said, something in the way she said it made you think she had been plotting this for a while.  

"I like it. But why Nico?" You asked, seeing if you could get something out of the beautiful brunette. 

 "It's just... A junction." Ani said, more shy than usual.  

"Work it out, baby." Her eyes were beautiful in the light of the sunset.  

"You know, my name is Ani, and people call you Conrad, I just thought, it might be kind of silly..." She looked away. 

Some people close to you called you Conrad, it was your father's last name, and you didn't mind carrying it around a little from time to time.  

"I loved it." You said, taking a strand of hair that fell in front of the brunette's face. You loved the little sparkles in her hair, it was so Anora.  "That's it, Nico. I loved it." You said, approaching and kissing Ani. 

Your lips glued to hers for a few seconds, before you pulled away to play with Nico, who was biting your shirt. If you looked twice, you would see the adoring look that Ani had for you. Anora had never said "I love you" to you, but at that moment, she was stuck, that's all she wanted to say. The fear of being scorned once again held him in her tongue, but it didn't take more than a week for her to say it out loud, jumping with happiness when you gave her the key to the apartment of the two of you. 

Petting the dog's ears - who was now grown up - Ani heard the door open, looking in the direction of the sound and seeing you enter with a multitude of bags in your hands.  

"Hey, are you awake?!" You said, leaving the bags on the kitchen counter and running to the couch to talk to your girlfriend. 

 Leaning in slightly, you kissed Ani's lips lovingly, sitting next to her and petting Nico before taking off your running shoes.  

"I can't sleep when you're not there to warm me up." The brunette said, pulling your compression shirt so that you leaned completely against the couch. 

"Where have you gone, baby? Why so many bags?" Ani asked, snuggling on your chest, when you finished taking off your shoes.  

"Well, I went for a run to the gym and then stopped by the supermarket to buy some ingredients for dinner with my parents." You said, kissing Ani's forehead, making the woman raise her head, your kisses going down to her nose and finally leaving a little seal on her lips. 

 Anora adored your parents, and your parents adored her. Ani was very happy when everything went well, she was very nervous before meeting your mother and stepfather. You had a good relationship with your mother's current husband, he took care of you from the age of fifteen until now, and you are grateful for everything he does for you, and if you were happy, Ani was happy. 

"I'm going to make your favorite." You said, kissing the woman's lips once more. God, you didn't want to let go of her ever again.  

"I love you." Ani's eyes looked directly at yours, you felt like you were in the clouds every time she looked at you like that.  

"I love you more." You joined your lips with hers, a calm kiss full of love. The hearts of both of you beating hard in your chest, the burning love and the flame that never went out creating more strength within you. Every moment like this was like a reminder to Anora, a message that she would never be alone again, that she had you forever. 

"I think we have to enjoy it a lot before we have company in the house." the woman said, her hands trying to take off your compression shirt. 

 "You don't even want to eat breakfast?" You asked, knowing the answer your future wife would give.  

"You're my breakfast." Ani said, kissing your neck and jaw, whimpering like a child when she couldn't take off your shirt as she wanted.  

"Anora, you're going to be the death of me." She smiled. Amazingly, she never felt bothered that you called her by her real name, sometimes even preferring it more than when you called her Ani. "Shower?"  

"Let's start the day, baby." 

Hi guys, how are you? I hope everyone is well.

 This is a little different from what I usually write around here, but I've been obsessed with Mikey since scream 5, so when I saw her in Anora my crush for her ignited again (she never went out).

I needed to write about her, I wanted to write something for Mikey too, in the same style, something fluff, but anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. 

Drink water, stay safe and go watch Anora!

xoxo, spider.

[emsprovisions]

Happy Wednesday, all! I'm sharing a bit more from top secret au. And under the cut, I'm taking a page from @everlastingday's book and showing you my other wip project, a placemat I'm in the middle of crocheting! also thanks to @alrightbuckaroo I am like obsessed with these dividers now.

TK wakes, disoriented and confused at first as to why he feels so warm in his usually cold room, and why he’s so tangled up in his sheets, and when did he turn on bear ambience to sleep to before remembering that the warm and solid weight against his back is Carlos and he’s just had the best night of sleep he’s had in probably years.

Carlos snores lightly next to his ear, a large, warm arm draped over TK’s waist and TK is obsessed and also feels silly that he feels so giddy about waking up beside anyone.

It’s been a long time, and while he’s aware it probably won’t happen again, it feels nice, and it makes him feel happy. Happier than he’s been in a long time, if he were to be honest with himself.

Carlos suddenly draws a sharp intake of breath and make a few groaning noises as he begins to stir. TK rolls over to face him, running a hand over his bare shoulder and down his arm.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

“Good morning,” Carlos rasps, voice thick with sleep as his eyes focus on TK.

Last night, TK had discovered what Carlos looks like in glasses too. He knew from the background check he’d conducted that Carlos’s drivers license states that he wears corrective lenses, but it was another thing to watch him borrow a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie to go back out to his car after dark to fish out his spares. 

He’s handsome in them, and TK feels beyond lucky to have witnessed it. He thinks Carlos is cute now too, keeping his face extra close to TK’s so he has any chance of seeing TK clearly.

“Can I make you breakfast?” he asks softly, studying TK’s face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“You can cook too, Officer Reyes?” TK grins and Carlos rolls his eyes. “I can’t promise there’s very much in the fridge, but sure, you can make me breakfast.”

Thank you for the tags @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @henrygrass @thisbuildinghasfeelings @nisbanisba @paperstorm @everlastingday @bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @carlos-in-glasses @carlossreaders @alrightbuckaroo @eclectic-sassycoweyes @lemonlyman-dotcom

No pressure tags @ironheartwriter @butchreyes @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @lightningboltreader @rangersoup @chicgeekgirl89 @decafdino @captain-gillian @nancys-braids @welcometololaland @futures-tense

And here's the link to the pattern I'm using to create this placemat :)

[the-unexplained-council]

Sick Day; Morning Frost

Legends of Avantris; Once Upon A Witchlight

Summary: You wake up sick and Frost makes sure you’re taken care of.

CW: Sickness/Fever.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This was kinda quickly made cuz I’ve been sick all day (my fever getting up to 102.6 yikes-) so I wanted to write this to cope and all that jazz. Not the best work, mostly a drabble. Hope y’all enjoy nonetheless!

-~-~-~-

A groan erupted from your mouth, the feeling of heaviness weighing down your lungs and head. The smell of ashed smoke from the dead fire filled your senses. The feeling of furred arms around your middle was the only comfort that the morning greeted you with. You welcomed the warmth he gave you, melting into him in the cold crisp morning.

You felt the tabaxi shift against your back, a tired groan of his own purring out of his throat. His arms squeeze slightly around you, his head burying into the top of your head. With a few seconds of a pause, you felt the routined sandpaper tongue begin to brush your messy hair down. His chest erupted in a husky purr, immediately calming your mind.

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured in a tired voice. His tail carefully wrapped around your thigh in a loving greeting, tickling you. He buries his face into your hair for a moment before continuing with his morning grooming. “How did you sleep?”

You groaned, leaning into his touch. “Like a train ran me over,” you murmured, feeling the end of his tail twitch. You felt his grooming stop as he hummed, sniffing you just slightly to take in your scent. “I don’t feel too hot.”

He hummed again in thought, gently massaging your side with his thumb. He nuzzled his cheek into your head before he very carefully unraveled himself from you, sitting up. He rubbed your side one last time before he stood, a large yawn erupting from his mouth to display his rows of sharp teeth. He then walked towards his bag that sat neatly against a tree from where Torbek was sleeping beside.

You began to sit up as well, watching as the tabaxi went through his own things. You were curious as to what he was doing, what he was searching for. The bugbear stirred just slightly in his sleep, then settled back down. Frost then turned around from his bag to look at you, a small cloth in his hands. You quirked your head to the side as the tabaxi’s tail swished in satisfaction with his find.

He walked over to you and used his wrist to feel your forehead, no words emerging from his mouth. You allowed it, accustomed to Frost’s wordless actions throughout your time with him. He hummed, a frown deepening onto his lips. “You are running a fever,” he said, glancing towards where the rest of the group lay. “I believe it would be best that you rest and that we try to manage this immediately so it doesn’t grow.”

You coughed, covering your mouth with your elbow. It stung your throat, your face hot and uncomfortable. Frost turned to his cloth then looked around, for what you didn’t know. “But we have to get to the next town as soon as we can,” you spoke, feeling your chest to attempt to ease your pain. “We are running out of supplies and it’s still another two days to get there.”

“If we must, I will carry you there,” He spoke, walking over to where Hootsie and Gricko laid together beside the tent where Kremy and Gideon slept. He bent down and took the water canteen from Gricko’s side, wetting the cloth. Hootsie tiredly woke up and looked at Frost with her large eyes, Frost petting her head softly, before she closed them again and fell back asleep. Gricko never ceased his snoring. Frost makes his way back to you with the now dampened cloth. “You are in no condition to strain yourself, your fever will grow.”

Frost kneeled and then gently dabbed the cloth against your head, the coldness cooling your hot skin. It felt nice, you wished your body was that cool.

You sighed, closing your eyes as Frost cooled your skin. You didn’t want to be a bother for the rest of the group, especially when it was so far from town on low supplies. You knew Kremy was getting quite anxious about being low on food and water, even if he did try to hide it. You wouldn’t want anyone to go hungry at all.

Frost cupped your head in his paws, holding you by your jaw joints, before he very gently placed a kiss onto your forehead, his cold nose kissing your head. You hummed in satisfaction until he pulled away, placing the cloth into your hands. He got up and began to walk towards the tent once more.

”Frost,” you whisper yelled, making the tabaxi’s ear twitch back. He stopped and looked over to you, his face in a wordless inquiry. You shook your head, holding the cloth to your forehead. “Please don’t wake them up, they need the rest. We don’t need to do anything right now.”

Frost’s tail flicked in thought. “We need to get medicine for you,” he spoke. “You also need a brothy or spiced meal to clear your congestion and sinuses. I believe Kremy can help.”

”But he’s having a rough time already, and we are already low on food,” you voiced. “I don’t see why you should do that right now.”

“We need to tend to this fever as quickly as possible,” he explained, turning all of the way towards you. “If this fever gets any worse you could potentially become practically immobile due to it practically frying your way of cognitive and motor function.”

Damn, he was right.

Sighing, you looked to the side before gesturing your hand to let him continue on his mission. He gave a silent nod before he walked towards the tent.

You laid back down on the ground, sighing and coughing up some stabbing congestion. You sat the cloth on your head while laying there, closing your eyes. You hadn’t noticed just how tired you really were before you fell asleep.

It didn’t take long to wake back up again, the smell of chicken broth whisking your senses and the crackling of the fire going once more. You opened your eyes and looked over, seeing Kremy cooking away at some sort of dish. Gideon was making sure the fire was hot enough and kept it tended.

Everyone else was awake now. Torbek was carrying some logs, sulking behind Gideon. Hootsie was playing with a butterfly, chasing it and running around to try and catch it. Gricko was talking to Frost, the both of them nodding as the other spoke.

You coughed, sitting back up and taking the now uncomfortably damp cloth off of your forehead. You took a deep breath, hoping it would soothe your lungs and throat, though instead ended up coughing instead.

Kremy glanced over to you as he sprinkled pepper into the large pot, his white undershirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tailcoat neatly folded on a rock close by. His hat sat neatly on his folded tailcoat, making Kremy look odd to you without it. It was practically his trademark.

“Waddado,” Kremy greeted, a small smile perking up from his alligator mouth. “Frost told me you weren’t feelin the best, so I’m makin a nice fresh pot of chicken noodle and rice soup. Homemade!” He took pride in his cooking, especially when his cooking was the sole purpose of bringing people together, helping someone out, or even if someone ends up craving it. It’s a medal for him.

You blinked, trying to register everything he said through your burning fever. You nodded, looking at his pot. “You didn’t have to,” you said, frowning at the fact that he was using up the last of the group’s chicken for you. “We’re running low as it is.”

He shushed you, taking his ladle and swinging it towards you in protest. “Ah, ah, I don’t wanna hear it.”

Frost walked over, some of Gricko’s bananas in hand, after hearing the both of you. He glanced over to the inside of Kremy’s cooking pot, sniffing a little. You carefully stood up, dabbing the rag to your neck as you did. You joined Frost’s side and his tail carefully wrapped around your ankle losely.

“Thank you, Kremy, for making this,” Frost thanked, bowing his head towards the lizardfolk just slightly in gratitude. “I’m sure it will help {y/n}’s sickness effectively.”

“Well, it better,” Kremy perked his head up slightly in the air, a sense of confidence over his frame. “I ain’t usin my best ingredients for it to not work.” He used his free hand to gesture towards the fire genasi, who handed him a bag of seasonings.

You giggled a little, always enjoying how Kremy sassed when it came to his cooking. Frost nodded to the warlock, satisfied with his answer. He laid the paw onto your shoulder, gently massaging his thumb into you.

“We all discussed that it would be best that we use the day to rest here,” Frost explained to you. “Kremy offered his tent to you for today as well so you will be able to rest without as many distractions. Gricko also gave me some bananyas for you to snack on occasionally as a temporary medication.”

Taking a banana from his paw, you very softly smiled up at the tabaxi. “Thank you,” the ends of his mouth arched upward just barely, a single nod of acknowledgement. “How can I make it up to you?”

He shook his head, walking beside you towards the open tent. You unpeeled the banana, eating the tip to start with. “That isn’t necessary, I’m only doing what anyone would do to care for someone they care for that is unwell.”

“Well, I think I feel pretty cared for.” you admitted, playing with the flapping peel of the banana as Frost gestured you inside of the tent. When you entered, Frost stayed outside and watched you sit on the cushioned ground. You continued to snack on the banana, feeling your aches and a growing headache you didn’t know was there disappear.

“I hope you do,” Frost nodded. “Please rest well.”

“Wait,” you stopped him, making the tabaxi pause his attempt to close the flap of the tent. He looked at you in inquiry, wondering what you’d like. “Can you please stay with me? I sleep better with you with me.. and I feel like I just need someone by me.”

Frost nodded, then glanced behind him towards the lizardfolk. Placing his attention back on you, he walked into the tent and closed the flap. You celebrated by taking the last bite from your banana and happily opening your arms towards your lover. He chuckled quietly and laid in your embrace. He wrapped his arms around your middle and laid down with you. His tail wrapped around your leg as always, a gentle thumb massaging your side.

He began to quietly purr, holding you close and grooming your head. You melted into him. He had a way of making you just want to be a puddle, making you feel loved and cared for. Frost would give you the world, and you grew to know that.

You yawned, a cough following into the tabaxi’s chest. He rubbed your upper back, attempting to soothe your aches there. His purrs grew, his attempt to heal your unseen wounds. You accepted it.

“Kremy shouldn’t be done for another hour or so,” Frost murmured into your hair. “It’s okay to sleep, I will wake you when it is time to eat.” He gently began to groom your hair, massaging your upper back just as before.

“Promise?” Your sleepily murmured, a sigh releasing from you with yet another cough.

“I promise.”

Maybe you wouldn’t mind being sick like this a little longer.

[starberry-cupcake]

hello!! I'm back!!! *sitcom studio cheer sound*

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag for all the recaps

last recap I said Something was happening and it has!! we have a puppy now!!! her name is Dana (after Scully)!! this is her!!!

DAY TWO (one of the things mentioned is that honesty's job goes terribly wrong and I feel so bad because I forgot to point it out in my recap, even if it was something that looked sus af to begin with and I was concerned when I read about it)

CHAPTER 7 (second house skull, after pyrrha probably)

nona wakes up abruptly

someone told me in the last recaps that the bible chapters are when nona is sleeping, which I hadn't put together at all and I don't know if I should have or if I missed something important

in any case, nona starts telling camilla what she dreamt, which is not what was in the bible chapter, so idk what's going on with that

maybe the bible thing is what harrow is seeing and the dreams are what an amnesiac gideon is seeing????

we don't know yet

she's describing being with the "other person" who is touching her hands but they're not hers

"I'm touching my own hands but they aren't mine"

which is another one on the tally for the "this is gideon in harrow's body" theory

they're surrounded by red eyes in the darkness and she's very hungry

and they're holding hands

that's the dream

she was startled awake because camilla threw a sponge at her

nona freaked the hell out about that

remember when harrow was woken up by og!gideon trying to murder her in cold blood every morning? those were simpler times

also, nona is about to put on the tshirt from the cover which took me 25 years and @lady-harrowhark pointing it out to notice it was a burger

camilla asks her about the hands and nona says she didn't like them

and that she doesn't like having hands????

she's a bit infuriating sometimes ngl

I don't know what to do with this information

pyrrha talks about people becoming violent because shit is getting real

and she prepares some mush for them to eat at breakfast

she's also worried about camilla's soul (and life) due to whatever it is they're doing on the sites

palmolive, I swear to whatever god of your choosing

(that isn't dr reverend emperor john asshat)

if something happens to camilla on your watch

I'm gonna chase your nerdy ass all the way to your river loft and back

when they start talking about nona wanting a "six months alive" gift, pyrrha tells camilla how depressing and non-gift-giving the ninth house is

which she visited when anastasia got settled

nice to know things in the ninth never ever changed

they did have a gift, though

the gift of ortus's poetry

nona wants differently colored hair ties, to not push too far into pyrrha's limited budget

we'll see if we make it to the birthday, there's a countdown going on

when nona gets to school, honesty has a punch in the eye and she has to help him with it until teacher angel comes in

teacher angel is still looking very sus, with clothes in disarray and also the same ones from the previous day

hot sauce also comes in afterwards, which makes me think she might have been following teacher angel

she's on the case

hot sauce gets very upset asking honesty who punched him in the face

everyone's very upset and tense, except for kevin who's eating peacefully

we love kevin

so, honesty tells the story and starts from the worst place imaginable to explain something that happened with accuracy

which is the end

but that's fine, because the tension of the story is in the middle, so we get the narrative effect

we appreciate that

he's got a podcast in another life

honesty was about to go to the tunnel job but, turns out, it wasn't a tunnel job

it was actually a mad max job

and they get cocky and do more than they were planning to, which is never a good idea

so, by the third attempt, the guy who's been doing the dropping-in maneuver gets very spooked by what he finds in there

which is a lot of people with white eyes who look directly at him when he shows up

which prompts militia trucks to pull them over

so honesty runs the fuck out of there and gets smashed into a pole

depiction of honesty, ruby and born in the morning after the incident, had they been together:

honesty gets saved and cared for by some homeless folk

after his face got smashed into the pole

and he clarifies they were trying to steal from a convoy

which he would have said no to had he known the job before being taken to do it

he asks hot sauce to protect him

which hot sauce agrees to, but I think this is too much work for one hot sauce alone, especially if she's keeping an eye on everything else

nona offers her help, but is rejected, on account of being dumb

I wonder if nona will somewhat reveal her powers of healing protecting these kids at some point

OH, ALSO

teacher angel sus person mentioned not being technically a doctor but getting a crash course in triage

which, continues to be sus behavior

is teacher angel helping with the fights? with war? with secret confrontations?

we'll have to wait and see!!

THAT'S IT FOR NOW!! I haven't had a lot of time to read and recap and I'm currently falling asleep as we speak, so sorry for such a short one this time!!! ♥

[daflangstlairde-art]

"A Noble Occupation" Chapter 2, 7936 words

Summary:

The shame burned. Dream felt as though everyone knew. Knew that he was a failure, that he needed something additional to work (and he was already worse at his work than he'd like). Knew that he wasn't the beacon of happiness and hope that they believed in, that they needed, that they loved. That he was something flawed, which felt sorrow and exhaustion and shame. — Dream acquires a new coping mechanism. It's not a very good one.

Credits, warnings and additional info on ao3.

—

It… became a habit, as shameful as that was.

On lighter days, when his emotions weren't exhausted enough and therefore reached him, Dream would… well, first he would busy himself. When there was nothing obvious that needed him (uncommon occurrence), he sought out how to be helpful, how to be of use. When there was little of that (very rare occurrence), he trained with his teammates, or made preparations.

When that ended and he was home, Dream still looked for ways to make his time worthwhile. Even cleaning was better.

But when he was at a loss on how to do that, and he was thinking and feeling things the Guardian of Positivity shouldn't be… he drank.

The experience didn't get more pleasant, but he grew accustomed to it. The same way he'd learned to bear wounds. The same way he'd learned to bear his own bad emotions.

Go to the store. Internally writhe in shame as he got a bottle of alcohol (wine, since he was most familiar with it). Sometimes he lied that it was for a friend or a gift. Go back home.

Drink it all as fast as possible.

Get hit with the effects all too suddenly.

Feel miserable. Throw up. Go to bed. Sleep like a log.

He learned to keep a glass of water at his night stand. He learned to set an alarm so he wouldn't sleep until noon. He learned to take headache meds in the morning so his functionality wasn't impaired.

It wasn't a big deal, really. It rarely happened, once every several weeks at most.

It helped him sleep, when he did it. It helped him, well, drown his sorrow — make it dull and fuzzy, allowing him to wake up the next day and pretend like none of it existed in the first place, because it shouldn't have existed in the first place.

He was a Protector of the entire Multiverse. If this made him better at his job, at giving the people what they needed in a way that didn't affect them negatively at all, what's the harm in it?

—

Dream should get a mat or something. For his bathroom. The floor tiles were cold.

At some point, he figured it was easier to just drink in his bathroom, since he was inevitably going to end up throwing it up.

The floor… wasn't particularly comfortable, but that's fine. Dream just had to sit here for a bit. Knees pulled to his chest, breathing steadily. Waiting for the alcohol to kick in properly, for the nausea to really rear up. Everything was already fuzzy and tilting, so it was on its way.

And then his phone rang.

Dream winced. He felt his metaphorical heartrate pick up, because it was late, and today had been easier, so this had to be an emergency, and he was a useless mess–

"Hey Dream!" Blue's voice came through.

"Blue?" Dream swallowed. Oh, he hadn't yet… experienced talking to anyone in this state. And he knew alcohol changed the way people spoke. Stars, he really hoped Blue wouldn't pick up on it. He really, really hoped that.

Blue was one of his best friends. One of his teammates. He was… so nice. He genuinely… cared about Dream, not just– about what Dream could do for him, not just about Dream's role. Blue was a good person.

What would he think of Dream? Would he be disappointed?

Dream would not be able to handle that.

He couldn't let Blue know.

"–always for some emergency or another, soo I thought I'd just… you know… call to chat! Just as friends," Blue spoke. His voice was… calm and cheerful. No emergency.

His words caught up to Dream. He wanted to… chat. As friends. That was important. Dream… didn't want Blue to feel like they're just co-workers. They were friends. Blue mattered a lot to Dream.

He was right. Dream had to make more time to spend with his friends. As friends. The last thing he wanted was for them to feel like… like he didn't care about them because he spent all his time helping other people instead.

(He had to have learned from his mistakes. He had to.)

Dream exhaled through his nose, trying to string together a coherent reply. Come on, he wasn't that drunk. Liven up!

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding even if Blue couldn't see. "I– I also… I'd enjoy spending time with you too. As friends,"

"Yay mweheheh!" Blue exclaimed, and Dream huffed in mirth at his endearing laughter. "Unless you're tired, that is– oh no, did I wake you up? I should've asked if you were available to talk first, gah, please prioritize your rest–!" he rushed out.

Dream shook his head. "No, no, I'm available," he spoke slower than the other. It's like the words were fuzzy in his mouth. It was weird. But it didn't sound weird, at least not to him.

"Oh! Okay then, great! Anyway. I'm making dinner!"

Dream hummed. "What're you making?"

"Vegetable cream soup!!!" Blue exclaimed.

That simultaneously sounded really tasty and made Dream remember the upcoming nausea.

"Sounds lovely," he focused on.

"Uh-huh! I hope so. You can try it tomorrow! It's a bit pot. I'm making it with the usual ingredients — you know, carrots and onions and potatoes, but I also decided to add cauliflower because I quite enjoy cauliflower–"Blue started rambling. He enjoyed cooking, as was characteristic of many versions of Papyrus. Funnily enough, Dream had caught him and Horror discussing food prep in the middle of a fight once or twice. It was bizarre. Dream wasn't against it though.

He didn't… think hating Nightmare's gang would solve anyone's issues. He wished he could help them instead. They… hngh. People hated them for ruining and destroying, which was understandable. Dream also, well, highly disapproved of their actions. But they were people, too. And, occasionally, he could feel their hurt. And there's no way being with Nightmare helped.

He exhaled. Maybe someday, he'd figure out a way to help them too. If he tried harder. If he was better.

…Ah, he wasn't listening to Blue. What a friend he was. How could he help Nightmare's gang if he couldn't even be enough for one of his best friends?

"–with an egg, and then it's going to be all done. What about you, what are you up to??" Blue asked curiously, because he was a good friend.

Agh. Dream would have to lie again. He felt… ashamed and guilty. What should he answer?

"I was… cleaning earlier," he answered. He did clean just a little.

"Cleaning? Tsk tsk tsk Dream, I told you to go home and rest," Blue said, light-hearted, more teasing than anything. Though there was soft, disguised concern in his words.

Dream winced. He swallowed. He almost reached for the bottle again before he remembered it was already empty. It was really getting to him. As always, it left him feeling odd. Fuzzy at the face. Nauseated.

"Sorry," he said, sort of by reflex.

"N– it's alright," Blue was quick to assure, and then he paused for a moment. "Are… you alright, Dream?"

Oh no.

Good going, Dream, you couldn't even compose yourself enough for one phone call. Blue just wanted to spend time with you, and now you're making it all about yourself and your problems which you shouldn't be having in the first place. Selfish.

Ugh, and the wine wasn't helping him at all. Dream felt… messy, when he should be the pinnacle of put-togetherness. He couldn't cry now. He couldn't.

"I'm okayy," Dream tried to put a sincere inflection to it. He'd mastered that long ago, except now, it fell oddly, drawing out the end of the word just a bit. Dammit.

Blue was quiet for another moment. Dream had to fix this.

"…Dream, you can ta–"

"I'm just a bit distracted, sorry," Dream lied, "Planning. You know how it is. …Sorry for interrupting you," he winced.

"…Right," that didn't sound like Blue believed him. Dream hunched in on himself. He felt sick. "Just–" Blue took a breath, "–don't stay up all night planning, okay? …Take care of yourself. Please. You don't have to– …You… you'll need the strength, so we can, uh, help people the best we can!"

Right. He was right. Dream was so selfish to be doing this.

"…You're right," he agreed softly. "Thanks for the chat, Blue. I really enjoyed it. Can we… I… I really appreciate you as a friend, you know?" he swallowed. "We should… hang out more. I'm sorry we don't hang out more. I'm s– I… I think I'm gonna go to bed now," he finished on a bit of a lame note.

"I'd love to hang out another time," Blue said all warm, and Dream knew he meant it. "But right now, you going to bed will make me even happier! Good night, Dream! See you tomorrow!"

"Good night," Dream returned quietly. After a beat, the call ended.

Dream let his hand down, blinking bleary at the wall. The silence lingered. He was alone.

He shuffled over to the toilet to throw up so he could go to bed.

—

He was growing too accustomed to the alcohol. One bottle wasn't making him as sick. He had to get two.

The shame burned. Dream felt as though everyone knew. Knew that he was a failure, that he needed something additional to work (and he was already worse at his work than he'd like). Knew that he wasn't the beacon of happiness and hope that they believed in, that they needed, that they loved. That he was something flawed, which felt sorrow and exhaustion and shame.

…He was finding more varied places to get the alcohol from.

—

Several days later,

"Dream!" Ink grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Ink?" Dream was immediately aware, "What is it, why did you call me, are you alright?" did Error go too far again, did Dream need to heal him? Was an AU being destroyed?

"Oh I'm great," Ink waved a hand, and then once again grabbed Dream, "But I really really really need your help!"

"Yes? Of course!" Dream would always help his friends.

"I need you," Ink said gravely, "to have a beach day with me."

Dream stared back at Ink's intense stare.

He resisted the urge to sigh. That'd be rude. And he wasn't really irritated with Ink anyway. Both because he didn't feel irritation, and also because it was Ink, Ink was like this.

"Come on pleeasee! It's really important!" Ink shook him a little. "It's for one of my stories! It has to be realistic. I stayed up all night thinking of plot points to put to the test,"

It still often baffled Dream how Ink could use up his time and energy for fictional stories like this. Then again, he'd… learned Ink perceived real people as fictional too. And besides, he wasn't Dream. Other people needed breaks and hobbies to function and to feel alright, so it was justifiably important. Even if Dream, personally, wouldn't dare.

"…Right," he replied carefully. "How long is this going to take…?"

"Uhhhmmm about a day, less even, so it's basically nothing," Ink shrugged. "We'll leave if there's an emergency, too, I promise,"

Okay, that eased some of Dream's worry. And it's not like this was the first time Ink hauled them away to do stuff relating to his stories. Last time was a few months ago, a camping trip in the mountains. Blue enjoyed that one. Dream did too. He held the memory fondly.

"Okay," he relented with a sigh and a smile. He'd rather be used by his friends.

"YES!" Ink threw his hands up.

And so here they were. Having a beach day.

It wasn't some private beach — there were a bunch of monsters around, but it was very far from crowded. It made Dream feel less like everyone would be looking at him and disapproving of this unearned leisure.

They'd already gone into the water, which wasn't awfully cold. And either way, the sun was high up and hot, seeping warmth into Dream's bones. The air held a gentle breeze that smelled of salt and sand and seaweed.

"Ink, pass it!" Dream hollered, grinning.

"Incomiiing!" Ink laughed, turning so he could pass the ball to Dream. With a running start, Dream jumped to dunk it past the net.

Blue laughed loudly at that, whistling. Error couldn't be assed to rush to catch the ball, even if he was literally a few paces away from it.

Blue had the idea that they play beach volleyball, but they'd needed a fourth person. Ink ended up nagging the Destroyer until he finally agreed, though he wasn't exactly passionate about it. Still, it was really fun. Error made up for his lack of involvement by cheating. This was the third ball Ink had drawn, haha.

And honestly?

Dream was having fun. Even with just the four of them, he was having a great time. All those fighting skills turned out to be useful — agility and precision and team coordination. Both teams were about evenly matched, making the game just engaging enough. Though weirdly, Dream didn't feel drained by all the movement and emotions.

The other monsters around the beach were relaxing, wafting off pleasant contentedness. Blue and Ink were as cheerful as ever. Even Error, as much as he complained about the sand, didn't seem to loathe it too much (likely because he was sort of friends with Blue and was familiar Ink).

It all left Dream collapsing onto his towel with a grin that was so big it ached against his face and a pleasant buzzing in his bones. This was yet another memory he'd hold near and dear.

("Thank you," Dream said to Ink quietly, but from the heart, as they all were sat to eat lunch during a brief break.

Ink chuckled, sharing a brief glance with Blue. "Anytime," he nudged Dream with an elbow.)

.

.

.

…Unfortunately, Dream remained a mess.

He was trying to sleep, he really was. He'd gone to bed over half an hour ago and he'd stayed there. Feeling lighter after a fantastic day. Calmer. More put together. Hopeful, the positivity inside him fresh and sincere, braced to live.

But he just… couldn't sleep. Which, to be fair, was far from new. Actually, he struggled to sleep most of the time. Which wasn't ideal since he got to bed, hm, maybe once every three days, but he was still fully functional so it must be all he needed.

Dream sighed, rolling on his side. Purple teddy bear held to his chest as always.

He wanted to sleep. Bad dreams or not, selfish or not, he was tired and he needed energy to bring his best for the Multiverse. Simply laying around certainly wasn't better.

He didn't understand why he couldn't sleep. He felt so cozy and comforted after the day at the beach. Filled with an unmarred warmth.

…Maybe…

…Hm. Did he need to drink an entire bottle every time? Maybe… drinking only a little would be fine. Just enough to dull his hyperawareness. What's so different to using melatonin pills?

Carefully, still a little ashamed, Dream got out of bed.

His head didn't even hurt in the morning, so it must've been fine.

—

It's really not that bad. Dream remained Dream, the Guardian of Positivity, member of the Star Squad, Protectors of the Multiverse. He was just as reliable, endlessly and gladly inspiring hope in everyone around him. Everyone knew how Dream was. Dream helped and asked for nothing in return. Dream always saw the best in people. Dream determinedly kept his stance in the face of terror and destruction. Dream embodied goodness, in everything he did, everything he was. Always smiling sincerely, reaching out his hands. Dream and all that he was belonged to the people. He served his role dutifully, humble and dedicated, glad and proud.

After years, he'd eventually settled into this balance. Always outputting as much productivity as he could, and always looking to do it more. A worn routine.

This was just… another… tiny part of said routine. He never dared to overdo it — he never drank around people, the same way he never cried around people. He never did it two days in a row, never even did it twice in the same week. He was always very careful that he wasn't needed when he was… uhm, in that state. He didn't… always drink himself to sickness, some nights it was just to help him sleep.

No one was noticing. So it was fine. Dream was ensuring he was highly functional and stable. He could get out all these unwanted emotions and thoughts, flush them down the toilet, and then continue as if it wasn't needed in the first place.

Until he was taken off-guard.

His phone was ringing.

Dream picked up immediately, desperately hoping this was just Blue or Ink wanting to chat. Because here he was once again. Dressed in pajamas, on his bathroom floor. Staring at the swirling and swimming tiles with over one bottle of alcohol in his system. Waiting for the sickness to come and pass, as usual.

"Yeah–?"

"Dream, emergency," Blue's alarm was audible over the line. Dream's rolling stomach sank. "Nightmare and his gang attacked–"

"On m' way, give me– minute," Dream hauled himself to his feet, and promptly regretted it as sharp reflux burned his throat. He pushed it down.

To his credit, his awareness sharpened a bit, as he listened to Blue give him the details of where to go and what state they were in. Ink was already there, and he heard Blue go through one of his portals. At that point Blue had to hang up to engage in combat as well.

In the meanwhile, Dream tried to gather himself into something semi-functional. He knew he looked terrible when drinking, and he was far from dressed for fighting, he had to hurriedly put on more combat-appropriate clothes so he wouldn't earn himself unnecessary wounds or impede his movements. He also took barely a few short seconds to splash his face with cold water.

As always, his mind kicked into habit as soon as he heard 'emergency'. Settling into familiarity. Forcefully jammed into strategy and pragmatism, away from sorrow and pain and all those distractions.

In about a dozen minutes, he arrived at the described location, more specifically in a version of Waterfall. The teleportation made his stomach do uncoordinated flips but Dream barely even noticed it, because he spotted Killer and Dust both engaging Blue in combat and jumped in to deal with at least one of them.

"Dream!" Blue exclaimed in relief.

"Here," Dream called back, parrying the swing of Killer's knife with his staff. Sometimes Killer preferred regular ranged attack bullets, but it seems today (or, tonight, according to the Omega Timeline's cycle) he was more for close-ranged combat. Which was fine because Dream was experienced in both.

"Well look who deigned to join!" Killer spat laughter in Dream's face, gladly engaging him in a fight. He was as vicious as ever, relentless and dirty with his attacks. Dream was used to him and knew to keep his guard up at all times, responding with fast, precise blocks and attacks of his own so as to not allow him openings to abuse.

Or… he was used to Killer.

But as they fought, and Killer kept taunting him as he usually did, Dream was… having a harder time than he should be.

It felt like he was reacting on time, except again and again, Killer managed to steal hits from him that Dream should've been perfectly capable of handling. His reflexes were… fuzzier than he'd like. In a normal fight, they would still hold up, but again, this was Killer. Nightmare had picked out the members of his gang for clear reasons.

Everything was just a little uncoordinated. Just a little unstable, like they were fighting in shallow water even though they were still on dry land, like Dream couldn't manage his footwork. Each hit that landed jarred Dream, even though the pain was muffled as well. Dream was lacking.

…And Killer was catching onto it.

"Heheheee did we catch you off-guard, dreamboy?" he jeered as he slammed his blade against Dream's staff once more, undistracted by his own words. "Are you losing your spark?"

Dream didn't reply, focused on matching him beat for beat as much as he could. Though that wasn't uncommon. He wasn't much for mid-fight banter. That was more Ink's thing. It's why Killer liked fighting Dream specifically. He wanted to crack his composure.

"You're sloppy," Killer hissed, grinning, dodging and slashing in the same movement, "Not usually your style, Mr. Perfect!" he mocked.

And he was right. Dream excused the rushing of his metaphorical heart on the adrenaline.

"This is who our enemies are? Pathetic," Killer successfully managed to slam the hilt of his blade against Dream's wrist, which weakened the grip on his staff, allowing Killer a wide swipe that landed despite Dream's attempt at dodging. Dream registered absentmindedly that, thankfully, it wasn't a lethal wound.

"What is up with you?" Killer crooned. "Am I scaring you, sunshine? Was this a bad time? Or…" he paused, in a dangerously considering way.

Dream's gut wrenched. His eyes widened, just the tiniest bit that people usually would not notice.

But this was Killer. Killer, when he wasn't drunk on violence and pain, could be terrifyingly observant. He was like a shark sensing a single droplet of blood in the water.

Killer barked out a hysterical laugh.

"Are you drunk?!" he loudly marveled.

Dream was too late to catch the wince he made at that. It was just the confirmation Killer needed.

"Oooohohoho oh this is incredible!" Killer laughed, fiercely back to attacking. "Your Guardian, everybody! A drunkard! I knew I could smell something familiar!" he declared it all loudly, even if there was nobody here to hear except the two opposing groups. And the echo flowers.

But even though there were no civilians here to hear, Dream was violently cringing inside. Please, no, he begged, please just let me handle this and go back home.

"What, got sick of living the life anyone else would kill for?!" Killer mocked, abusing his new knowledge to gain the upper hand in their fight. Dream was even sloppier, struggling to keep up with him, backing up as Killer pushed onwards. "I'm embarrassed to even fight you, Dream! Tsk tsk tsk!"

Usually, Dream mentally shielded himself from Killer's and Nightmare's and everyone's negative remarks as much as he could. Usually he knew the point of their words was to get to him, him specifically. To weaken his resolve, to hurt.

So why was it getting to him now?

Horrifyingly, Dream realized he wanted to cry.

All Killer needed was for him to stumble for a moment, and then Dream cried out as a knife was plunged directly into his chest. Killer seized the opportunity, shoving him towards the wall with it so he could push the blade in up to the hilt.

As soon as he accomplished it, he twisted the knife, Dream letting out another highly pained sound, and then ripped his knife out to let him bleed.

Dream, uncoordinated, sloppy, hurting, overwhelmed, slid down to the ground, trying to at least breathe. Everything was spinning, and the back of his throat stung sharply and discontentedly.

Dream didn't even process Killer lifting his knife and summoning four blasters with the same gesture, laughing hysterically above him. He flinched and cowered pathetically as a second shape jumped between them, and it was the final push as he leaned forwards and retched on the ground. Or… he aimed for the ground but didn't quite make it. The humiliation burned as he saw he caught the bottom of his pants and his shoes and it was gross and he wanted to cry. He was shaking.

"–eam are you okay?!" Blue's worried voice floated in from beside him, and Dream squeezed his eyes shut, pulling his knees closer in, hiding his face in them.

He was collapsing in the middle of a fight. His friends needed him. He was letting them down. He was letting everyone see his composure break. He was broadcasting his weaknesses, his wrongness to their enemies. What was wrong with him? Why was he like this? Why couldn't he just work?

Adrenaline and shame and sheer overstimulation wracked him inwardly and he felt sick, he felt so sick, he was going to throw up again.

"Dream, hey, hey, listen to me, it's okay, focus on my voice," Blue spoke. He was– he was kneeling next to Dream, blocking his view of the rest of the fight. If both of them were dealing with Dream's mess, then Ink had to be handling the rest on his own. And Ink was strong and incredibly capable, he was creative and didn't let things get to him, but Dream was letting him down.

They were both going to be disappointed in him. The thought felt like getting stabbed in the chest again.

Dream– Dream couldn't do this. He was a disappointment. He was a useless. A mess. He was a failure.

In barely a flash, he was back in his bathroom, bending forward to throw up into the toilet. Everything was spinning, and he clutched the bowl to stop the shaking of his hands. His face felt hot with shame and the blubbery tears breaking out of their prison.

Dream was struggling to breathe. It felt like his rib cage was made of stone, and he couldn't breathe in right. He was– he was trying to gasp in air but every inhale got cut off sharply, he couldn't breathe, everything was vibrating like pins and needles.

Dream let his forehead thunk down on the toilet seat, the cutting breaths starting to sound more like hiccups, like sobs. He couldn't get himself under control, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't even think. It was all just a barrage of emotions he shouldn't be capable of even having, uselessness and panic and sorrow and self-hatred and guilt and disappointment and shame shame shame. He was a ruin. He felt so damn sorry the Multiverse depended on this thing.

Suck it up. Pull yourself together. Handle this. Be better. Be better!

But he couldn't. He couldn't. Every desperate attempt to pull himself together only made him more overwhelmed, only made him feel more incapable. He wanted to claw out the emotions. He wanted it out.

It hurt as he retched into the toilet again, acidic magic trailing down his chin. It was gross, it was so gross, he hated it. He hated the way his uncontrolled sobs echoed in the bathroom. He hated the way he couldn't even get up, trembling and weak and aching all over. He hated hating, he shouldn't even be capable of it.

How was he going to sleep like this? How was he going to look his friends in the eyes like this tomorrow? How was he going to look at anyone? Maybe they wouldn't know how much of a useless disappointment he was, if Nightmare didn't broadcast it to the whole Multiverse, but Dream would know. It would be in the background of all his actions, following him, never allowing him to forget because he had to remember his mistakes, he had to learn from them, he had to be better.

Who would need– who would want a Guardian of Positivity who wasn't even positive?

He tried to reign in the sobbing, he tried, he swore he tried. He always tried so, so hard but it was never enough. He was never enough. People always needed more, there was always more to do, he always had to be more. He couldn't even stop crying, when he shouldn't be crying in the first place.

Dream raised his hands, slamming them into the sides of his head. Just stop it. Just stop it. You're the one that messed up, you're the one who always messes up! It's your fault! It's always been your fault! Why are you crying? How dare you feel sorry for yourself you useless thing? People suffer constantly, and here you are, sniveling!

"I'm sorry, 'm sorry," Dream blubbered incoherently, not even sure to who. It was just– instinct, deep inside him. Sorry that he was wrong, sorry that he wasn't enough, sorry sorry sorry.

The tears didn't stop coming. It's like every tear he'd ever repressed was coming back for him with vengeance. He just kept crying and crying and crying, like he was trying to hold back the tears with his own hands but they just kept slipping through. How was he supposed to calm anyone else's tears when he couldn't even deal with his own?

He was made to help people, it was the definition of his existence to exist through others and for others. If he couldn't be theirs then he was nothing, he was as good as de–

"–shh, shh, it's okay,"

Dream jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder, no, no, what? There wasn't supposed to be anyone here, he was alone, he–

"Dream, it's okay, it's alright," Blue was kneeling next to him, keeping up a stream of reassurances, and the sudden shame Dream felt, like someone had grabbed his nonexistent intestines and squeezed.

"Blue– you– n– m– I–" he stammered, words slurred in a way he hated.

"It's okay," Blue insisted, "Look, look at me, hey," his hands came to cup Dream's face, and Dream felt borderline scared as he looked at Blue's gaze. It was gentle, but sure. "You're okay. Everything is okay. Stop thinking, just– breathe with me, please?" he said.

More tears bubbled into Dream's eye sockets because he couldn't, he couldn't–

"I need you to remind me how we did it, please? Please? How did we do it? How do we breathe deep?" Blue tried desperately.

He needed Dream. He needed Dream's help, and that's all Dream's shattered thoughts could focus on. His friend needed him.

Dream forced himself to gasp in air even as it burned, his chest and his throat.

"There we go, that's right," Blue encouraged, still holding his face, keeping Dream's eyes on him. "I think I'm remembering, keep showing me, okay?"

Dream gasped for air again, and Blue followed, inhaling deeply. Much more steadily than him. Dream tried to hold the breath but it burned and escaped him, and Blue held and exhaled with him, although slower.

Dream was still shaking with sobs but he pushed through, hands clutching tightly onto nothing, forcing himself to breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold, repeat. Blue following him beat for beat.

They barely spent a few minutes that way before another presence joined them and Dream flinched, his already unsteady rhythm knocked off again.

"It's just Ink, it's okay," Blue reassured quickly. "He's got some medical supplies–"

Dream's eye lights snapped back to Blue in alarm, "Who's hurt?" he asked immediately, still struggling with cohesion.

Blue's face saddened, and that only panicked Dream more. There was someone injured who needed his help and he was sitting here freaking out–

"You are," Ink said next to them and flicked Dream's head with two fingers. Dream startled at it. He saw Blue send Ink a look at that, but he sensed no regret from Ink.

His mind grappled to process the words.

He was? He was what? Hurt?

…Oh wait. Yes. He was hurt. Killer stabbed him in the chest, he was still bleeding from it.

And then– then he'd–

More tears and shame pricked at his face. He shook his head insistently, though he wasn't sure what he was trying to convey.

"Dream, please let Ink help," Blue pleaded, worry lacing every word.

Dream hated to make him worry, especially over him, so in guilt, he relented.

With shaking hands, he removed his capelet and his shirt so it would be easier for Ink. Looking at it now, the wound was bad. It wouldn't kill him, it would take a lot to kill him, but it was bad. His blood dripping down from his severed ribs. It'd soaked into his clothes. It explained the burning of his breathing only partially.

"It's going to be okay," Blue lifted his face up again. "Just let Ink heal it, it's going to be okay Dream,"

He shouldn't be the one reassuring Dream. Ink shouldn't be the one cleaning his wound carefully to heal him. Dream should be the one taking care of them, not the other way around.

"I'm sorry," he whispered through hiccups, not even flinching as Ink gently cleaned his wound out with rubbing alcohol.

However the smell reached up to Dream's nose and nausea rolled in his stomach.

He shoved himself away from Blue to gag, pressing a hand to his mouth because he'd hate himself even more if he threw up on his friend.

"Whoops, sorry about that," Ink said casually, assuming he'd done something wrong.

"Not– not your fault," Dream reassured him, struggling to breathe through the nausea.

"Oh, I thought that's what we're doing? Apologizing for things that aren't our fault?" Ink said with a mischievously innocent smile.

Blue whacked his shoulder. Ink showed no regret, chuckling.

Dream was trying not to throw up again. He didn't usually vomit this much, but he usually stayed in his bathroom with little physical strain too.

He really, really wished they didn't see him like this.

"Oh, you still feel sick?" Ink spoke again, pushing himself to his feet, "I'll be back in a mo, keep an eye on him," he told Blue and then disappeared through a swipe of inky magic.

"Okay–" Blue exhaled through his nose, picking up the cotton and the rubbing alcohol, "I'll treat your wounds for now then, is that okay?"

Dream stared at the plastic bottle of rubbing alcohol. Just the thought of the smell made him feel sick and ashamed and guilty, like he wanted to hide under his blanket.

"Oh–" Blue looked down at the bottle and then put it down.

"No, no, it's fine–" Dream was quick to reassure. His words were slightly clearer even though everything still felt like pins and needles. He was still intermittently hiccuping and sobbing, breathing shakily. And bleeding.

"No, we'll think of something else," Blue insisted, and Dream cringed. He couldn't even give it to them to not be a difficult patient. Way to burden your friends with what shouldn't even be their job, Dream.

He reached for the plastic bottle. He could patch his wound up himself, it was far from the first time.

Blue grabbed his wrist.

"Dream." he said sternly, and Dream couldn't help but hunch in on himself at the tone.

"Sorry,"

Blue breathed in and out in a measured manner.

"It's okay, I'm not mad at you," he said gently, and Dream could feel he wasn't. Mostly, he felt– frustration, worry and care, and sadness.

"Are– are you okay?" Dream asked. He didn't want Blue to feel frustrated and sad and all.

The frustration reared up at that, and then Dream felt it get intentionally shoved down.

"'S okay to be frustrated," he reassured, hand reaching up to Blue's shoulder in sloppy comfort.

"I'm–" Blue exhaled, "I'm not frustrated because you've done something wrong," he explained, "I just– I want to help you but I don't know how, and I'm... frustrated you're not letting us,"

Oh.

"Sorry," Dream mumbled, "I'm– I'm alright,"

"You're not," Ink reappeared, and Dream saw Blue wince at the bluntness. "Maybe this will help though?" Ink crouched down next to them, holding out a blister pack to Dream.

Dream let go of the rubbing alcohol, so Blue let go of his wrist. He accepted the blister pack, reading the name on the back.

'DETOX' and underneath, in smaller letters, 'active charcoal'.

"Charcoal?" he frowned.

"Yup!" Ink exclaimed. "It helps draw out, uh, bad things from your digestive system! Like food poisoning. Or alcohol,"

Dream stiffened, deeply uncomfortable and ashamed. Maybe they'd just heard Killer. Maybe they'd connected the dots. The two bottles still remained in the bathroom, after all, which is where they were sitting right now.

"I, I–" he scrambled.

"You don't have to explain yourself," Ink cut him off with a raised hand. "If you think that'll help, take it. You can even take two, it's not dangerous," he pointed at the active charcoal pack Dream held.

He hesitated.

"...Okay," Dream accepted, popping two out and swallowing them dry. It didn't taste like anything. He was thirsty. He felt completely drained, which didn't help the shaking and the wooziness.

"Wanna know what would help right now?" Blue spoke, and Dream looked at him hopefully.

"What?"

"Telling me how this upsets you so I can think of something else?" Blue pointed at the bottle of rubbing alcohol tentatively.

Dream cringed again. He should just tough it out. He was making things needlessly complicated, when he should be the person that makes things easier.

...But... Blue said it would help.

Dream took a wobbling breath in, then let it out. He was still blinking tears out of his eyes. Even though they weren't wracking through him anymore, he couldn't stop them.

"It's– the smell," he admitted quickly.

"Oh! Psh, well that's not a problem," Ink said easily, for some reason unraveling his (very long and thick) brown scarf that he loved. And then, bizzarely, he started wrapping it around Dream's neck, pulling it up so it rested over the lower half of his face too.

When Dream breathed in through his nose, all he could smell was Ink's natural scent, ink and paint and cloth.

"I– but what if I throw up again?" he looked up at Ink, voice small, eyes wet.

Ink stood with his arms crossed, smiling.

"You realize I throw up when I get overwhelmed, like, half the time, right?"

...Oh.

They were being… so nice. Showing him so much care, even though they shouldn't. But because they… wanted to?

It made him want to cry all over again, expression wobbling. They were so nice, and warm. He could feel their care.

"Thank you," he said softly to both of them.

"Anytime!" Ink beamed. "So is it gonna work?"

"I– yeah, I think so," Dream nodded, raising a hand to press the scarf to his face.

When Blue brought a cotton swab soaked in rubbing alcohol to try cleaning his stab wound again, the smell didn't hit Dream's nasal cavity, it didn't make him want to bend over and retch.

They spent some time in the quiet like that. Blue and Ink cleaning up his wound, healing it, and dressing it in a practiced manner. There were still tears half-heartedly streaming down from Dream's eyes, no matter how much he wiped them away with his hands and tried to hold them back.

He could feel the ache of the wound settling in, sharper now that it wasn't covered up by alcohol and adrenaline, but it wasn't more than what he could handle. His metaphysical stomach felt desolate, and he was so thirsty, but he worried he'd just throw it up again. Exhaustion tugged at his limbs and his eye lids, from the amount of energy he'd wasted in throwing up and freaking out.

And in the middle of a fight, too. And his teammates had rushed after him to help him, oh stars.

"What about Nightmare's gang?" Dream suddenly piped up in alarm.

"Oh don't worry," Ink waved a hand, "I ditched them at Error's," he cackled. Blue snorted.

Oh. Okay then.

"Good job," Dream praised them both. He really couldn't ask for better, more capable, more reliable teammates. Friends. "And… thank you. And– I'm–" his mouth wobbled more, and he tried to breathe the uprising tears away. "I'm sorry, I... I just– this–" how could he explain this? How could he justify himself?

He didn't want to lie to them. He hated lying. Especially to his friends.

"I thought it would help," his voice broke against his will. He stared at the floor, starting on the damned crying again. Get a hold of yourself, Dream. "I was trying to– I thought it would–"

Wordlessly, Blue reached over and dragged him into a hug. A second later Ink flopped into the embrace too, both of them sandwiching him like endearing annoyances.

Dream was… a bit stupefied. Here he was, drunk (post-drunk?), having botched a fight. Vomited magic dried on the bottom of his pants (he'd kicked his shoes off). Sitting with his best friends on his bathroom floor, an undignified mess in all ways.

And they just… hugged him.

Blue's arms around him were solid and strong, an unflinching aura of care. Ink had a steady calm presence, for all his hyperactivity, never overwhelming Dream with emotions due to their artificial nature.

They were… so warm.

Dream pressed his face to Blue's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut painfully. Blue rubbed his back, as much as he could with Ink there at least.

"It's okay," Blue comforted him gently. "You're okay. Everything is alright. You didn't do anything wrong, alright? You can let it out,"

Dream shook his head.

"Heeyy! There's room for only one emotionless Protector!" Ink whined, "Don't infringe on my copyright!"

Dream laughed wetly at that.

"I'm– but it's wrong," he argued, daring to voice his inner turmoil. Uncertain how exactly to describe the way he felt about it to someone else. "I– I wasn't made to cry," he tried.

"I mean, you can cry though, right?" Ink pointed out. "Sounds to me like you were made to do it, then,"

And… and Dream couldn't really argue with that. He was left speechless.

"Come on, what do you always tell other people?" Blue guided. "What do you say when someone's crying?"

Many things. But among those things,

"That it's... normal, and... healthy," Dream replied, quiet, uneasy. "But I'm not– it's not the same,"

"Why not?" Blue exclaimed. "Didn't it feel nice just now? Letting it out? Everything that was built up?"

…Miserably, Dream had to admit it did. Like there had been a dam accumulating inside of him, turbulent and heavy, metric tons of tears built up. And finally, he'd let some of it out. He was exhausted, and ashamed, but he did feel… eased, in a way.

"You're allowed to cry, Dream," Blue insisted softly. "Heck, you of all people should get to cry!"

"Don't worry, we won't tell anyone," Ink said in a jokey tone, "It's going to be a Star Secret,"

"Yeah, Ink will probably forget in a day," Blue teased.

"Heeyy!" Ink complained with no upset behind it, instead amused. "Maybe you should forget it too, did you consider that?"

"Nope! I'm a magnificent keeper of secrets, mweheheh!"

Dream giggled wetly. They were so nice. He sobbed again, muffling it into Ink's scarf. He loved his friends so, so much.

"There we go," Blue encouraged, amused but sincere. Patting his back gently. "Do you still feel sick? Do you think we can move to your room–?"

"Yeah, it's alright," Dream swallowed.

"Dream,"

"No– it is, it really is, I– I want to change my clothes," he insisted, it was the truth.

"Alright, Ink, move a little please,"

Ink complained and there was a bit of shuffling. Dream also got ready to disengage from the hug, but instead he was taken off guard as Blue lifted upwards, still holding him. Easily picking Dream up, making him yelp. Jeez, he sometimes forgot how much sheer physical strength Blue had.

Blue cackled, having definitely done that on purpose.

Dream sighed in feigned annoyance, but considering how tired he was, he honestly appreciated the lift to his bed where Blue deposited him. Ink happily trailed after, and flopped down right beside him.

"Do you need anything else? Where are your clothes?" Blue hovered, still on his feet.

"I can get it," Dream pushed himself up.

"Noooooo," Ink complained, wrapping around him like a squid.

"Guys,"

"Dream,"

"Just–" Dream sighed, "please? I swear I'm better," either from the DETOX or he'd thrown it all up, or both. And from the sheer comfort and positivity of his friends. He was just… tired. So tired.

But… not in a hopeless way. Rather in a really sleepy way.

Blue was visibly unsure, but relented, sitting at the bed. Dream smiled at him. Ink unlatched from him, letting him get up. He got into pajamas, brushed his teeth because yuck, and also went to get himself a glass of cold water from the kitchen. He drank it slowly and crossed his fingers, hoping he wouldn't throw up again.

He lingered in his kitchen for a moment, just… breathing. His body was tired. Heavy and dragging. It was so much more than simple lack of sleep. It felt like he'd bled out. Not just literally. A part of him dreaded how this would all crash down on him tomorrow.

And he was still highly in danger of crying.

…But…

…Maybe, he was made for it. Maybe, it was good and healthy for him. That's what Ink and Blue thought. And Dream both trusted them and trusted their view. They were some of the most truly kind, capable, honest, caring, dedicated– ah, he could go on. Point was: he appreciated them. Maybe... maybe he should take them as a guide instead.

It was a bit terrifying? Because what if he was wrong? What if Dream was daring to go against everything that'd kept the multiversal balance intact this far?

…But he hadn't been enough, this far. So... clearly something wasn't working. It was time he tried to change things up Just a little. For the sake of goodness.

(And maybe, just a little, for his own sake.)

Dream refilled the glass, taking it with him. Pattering back to his bedroom.

Ink and Blue were still laying there, their collective aura easy and light and warm, though with mix-ins. They were chatting about something. Ink was holding up the purple teddy bear, making it move as though it was acting out their conversation.

Dream passed by and primly snatched it out of his hands.

"Heeyy!" Ink protested, and then his mental track switched as he grinned, "Oh I'm so happy you kept him!"

"Of course I kept him," Dream rolled his eye lights. "He's a gift from you doofuses,"

"Mweheheh!"

"I like his ribbon," Ink pointed out. "Purple and yellow, complementary colors,"

…Yeah.

"Dream. Bed. Sleep. Don't make me make you," Blue threatened.

"I dare you to try," Dream grinned.

"Oh Dreamy Mr. Guardian," Ink clasped his hands together theatrically, making his eyes big and sparkling, "I need aid remembering how to get into bed, can you please show me–!"

Blue mercilessly whacked him over the head, making Ink kick his feet and laugh loudly.

Blue sent Dream a glance, but Dream was laughing too. He wasn't particularly offended. Partially because it was Ink, but mostly because Ink was... pretty accurate with it, haha. Oh stars.

Oh so benevolently, he flopped into bed, laughing quietly as he got dragged in for cuddles. Holding the plushie close.

Tomorrow, the shame and guilt would crawl up his spine. Tomorrow, he was probably in for… difficult conversations.

Tonight, instead of alone, Dream was held by his teammates, his friends, listening to them chat and breathe, and he felt... alright. Tonight, instead of lying, Dream had cried and it was alright. Tonight, Dream slept alright.

[starry-blue-echoes]

You ask and I shall receive. Also can I be an anon here?? I really enjoy your content and actually sent a couple Jojolion AU asks myself ;) Anyways, let's get into it.

So, Shiloh is a time traveler from the 2020's [this year, actually!] and holds the stand Space and Time. Technically it's two stands but I think of it like Mista's Sex Pistols. It's fine. So anyway, this grants them the ability to time travel and warp reality, a bit like sans undertale and doctor strange. They are from Germany going on a college tour to New York for their studies. One night when they're off on a walk their stand Time kinda fucks up and transports them back to 1930's New York where they accidentally run into Joseph and get pulled into his wacky shenanigans. The plot continues fairly normally, saving Caesar from being stuck in a rock and a hard place. Until they have to leave to go back to their time, choosing the worst time for this, when Kars gets knocked into space. Everyone thinks they're dad now, oh no :(

Now back at their own time, they meet Ayumu, another stand user of Pillar Man descent [what are the odds], and the two of the take down an evil CEO of a company from Global Domination, making allies along the way. I don't have it super planned out, but during this time Shiloh gets attacked by a stand ability and shoved into a pocket dimension. Obviously they teleport the hell outta there but they end up in the 1870's England before Dio had beef with Jonathon. They are incredibly tired so they go to a bar to wind down when they see this kid being abused by their dad. They stand up for the kid and take him out for an actual meal because that kid as def starving. They have a nice talk and Shiloh stays for a it, but eventually as to leave to fight in that bizarre adventure in their time. But as something to remember them by, they give the kid a little green heart pin. You'll never guess who the kid was.

A couple years pass from defeating the company and now Shiloh and Ayumu are married, congrats fellow gays. They take their honeymoon to Egypt in the 80's for funzies. But then Shiloh got nabbed by Dio while the two got separated. The kid Shiloh had met in the 1880's was actually me, Dio, who very clearly remembers what happened that day. Shiloh gets turned into a vampire. Meanwhile Ayumu can not find Shiloh ANYWHERE. She has searched and searched and searched for so long and yet no sin of them, but she knows that they wouldn't abandon her. Until she spots one of Dio's minions [unspecified, possibly Hol Horse] who told her that Dio had them. Now she's angry at Dio, so she asks where the hell he is and what stand ability he has, but the guy runs away once she becomes 'too aggressive' [it's her spouse after all]. She's seen Polnareff before as an agent of Dio, so she decides to go find as many minions as she can to possibly get any info out of them as possible. Then they find Polnareff, non-fleshbudded, and just attacks him. The gang gets involved and Ayumu gets beat up until everuone realizes that all of them are here to kill Dio and Ayumu joins the SDC. Also if you're wondering why Shiloh hasn't escaped Dio's thot manor, I brought in Pucci to steal their stand so they couldn't teleport out of there. Rest in piece Shiloh </3 so they go kick Dio's ass and Shiloh and Joseph have that awkward reunion with each other because Joseph thought Shiloh was dead and Shiloh thought that they'd never see him again because they're lives were literally 100 years apart. Bonus everybody also beats up Pucci and Shiloh has their stand back :)

This is all I can type rn as it is one in the am and I need healthy sleeping skills, I will continue with the lore later because I am far from over :)

-Oc Anon

OOOOOOOOOOO THEY!!!!!!!!!

[dent-de-leon]

This is just a very silly little coincidence, but. When I got Taliesin's autograph at NYCC and he saw my name, he went "Leo!! Oh, nice." And it made me so ridiculously happy and full of gender euphoria to hear he liked the name I happened to pick. And now finding out that he's playing a new character named Leo just makes me so ridiculously happy,, it just makes me smile that he likes the name too :'))

[fictionadventurer]

Me, every time I fall away from praying the Liturgy of the Hours: That sounds like such a stressful commitment and so much work and I don't want to bother.

Me, every time I start praying the Liturgy of the Hours again: This is amazing and beautiful and so easy! Why don't I do this all the time?

[rxttencaviar]

thinking about the miravi first time (which is different and distinct from the miravi first time thats actually canon in my mind... i can give them as many first times as i want its my ship) where its one of the few times miranda is so awkward and flustered and how that matches aaravi's awkwardness and flustered state, and miranda knows that aaravi is having some trouble due to the whole... monster thing, so she offers to strip first and let aaravi touch her first. and it being very cute and sweet and awkward, only switching over into something with more passion and confidence right at the very end when theyve already had their dicks out for a good hour beforehand - almost certainly after aaravi cums inside miranda for the first time and realizes. OH. THE KNOT IS GOING TO BE AN ISSUE. and that she cant pull out afterwards and is just going to be stuck there for a bit. to which miranda's response is of course that this is no problem, gets aaravi to hold on so she can flip the both of them over so that shes on top of aaravi, and just goes ham rutting against her and making her cum over and over again with her internal textures and core muscles until they both pass out.

and then the morning afterwards, its the single best sleep aaravi's ever had, and her and miranda just kinda lay with each other in bed, kissing and being sweet and touching each other without going too far with it, and it's just cute and a fun time

[elegyofthemoon]

was supposed to leave wet cat hour when i knocked out last night why am i still sobbing

[mabelsguidetolife]

i am in shock……

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Been feeling lonely :(