#im working my way through the story mode slowly

[luckyqueenreign]

The Story of Us - is a four-part series that will delve into MC (Gemma) and Suresh's relationship pre-villa.

If you missed Part One, last week you can read it here.

PART TWO: The Night It All Ended

"How dare you? and how could you? Will you only feel bad when they find out?"

Tag List: @squishy-noodles @hi-im-karla @kunepie @brasister @kvngdomheartz @katsie @whati390 @smexilexi420 @viperidae94 @misterytull @theesocialintrovert @kiwi-tai @ordoesshemouthfuckyouforever @kikithegr8 @fujihime-litg

Super special shout out to @0shewrites0 and @future-mrs-suresh who both read this story 87 times and sent me notes and made it so much better. Love you both 🥰💖

NC-17

Suresh was fuming. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, angrily driving away from Gemma’s apartment. Suresh knew Gemma had been taking her parents’ separation hard but he had tried everything he could to make her feel better. 

Over the past two weeks, she ignored his advice, flinched at his touch as if she were some wounded animal and he could feel her slowly pulling away from him. But tonight had been the last straw, this was the fourth time this week that she had canceled plans without warning. 

I feel so fucking stupid. Four times. FOUR TIMES. 

At least the other three times she texted him before to let him know she wasn’t up for it. 

It wasn’t fair. Tonight was going to be special. He had planned everything out, he bought her a new dress that he knew she would love, booked an impossible reservation at the restaurant they had been trying to get into for months and he planned on asking her to move in with him tonight. Everything was going to be perfect. But then it wasn’t. 

FOUR FUCKING TIMES. How are we supposed to move in together when she keeps pulling away from me like this? 

Heat coursed through his already tense body as he noticed his phone light up with Gemma’s gorgeous smile, calling him for the third time since he’d left her apartment. He didn’t want to see her face, hear her voice tonight. He ignored her many attempts, turning his phone on airplane mode. There would be no talking tonight, only drinking. Lots and lots of drinking. 

Suresh walked into The Social, a swanky cocktail bar that he frequented often with his colleagues after work. He stormed up to the bar, not looking at anyone, distractedly and very loudly moving the empty chairs at one side of the bar. 

FOUR TIMES. 

“Rough night, Mr. Fraser?” Gabi said with a flirty giggle. 

He looked up at the waitress who was eyeing him flirtatiously, pressing her tattooed breasts together while she leaned over the bar. 

“Gabi, I don’t want to talk about my night,” he said looking at her pointedly. 

“I think I have a way of making it better,” she cooed, turning around, grabbing a glass and pouring Irish whiskey into it. “Here,” she said, biting her lip and grazing her hand on his as she handed him the glass. 

For weeks he’d enjoyed a bit of innocent flirty banter with Gabi, but tonight was different. He craved the attention she was giving him, he desperately needed the flirty looks and repartee after being discarded by Gemma for weeks. They played a game of cat and mouse with each other as she gave him shot after shot. 

“Ok handsome last one,” she rolled her eyes playfully, handing him a shot glass overflowing with amber liquid. 

“W-wha you mean? You cuttin’ me off?” he said, slurring his words. 

“No babe, we’re closing,” she smirked, while placing his bill in front of him. 

“BOO!” He dropped his wallet, keys and phone on the bar, fishing out his credit card from his wallet and handing it to Gabi. 

“Suresh you’re not planning on driving home are you?” 

“A course! I’m fiiinnneee.”

“Suresh no, you’d immediately crash into the first light post. There’s a couch in the back office, I’ll call the owner Tommy and let him know you’re sleeping it off. Come on.” Gabi walked over to Suresh and grabbed his things off the bar top and grabbed his hand while he stumbled next to her as she led him to the back office. 

They walked into the dimly lit office and she pointed to the old black leather couch that had seen better days. 

“Home sweet home,” she said, eyeing the fish bowl centerpiece brimming with condoms on the black IKEA coffee table in front of the couch. 

He looked around the room, following her eyeline and looked back at her. She looked up at him with a delicious smirk on her overly glossed lips and a hungry gaze in her eyes. Gemma hadn’t looked at him like that in weeks, all he wanted was to feel wanted, to feel desired by his girlfriend. Looking at her now in his drunken state, her face somehow morphed into Gemma’s right before his eyes. 

Gemma? 

“You want me to stay? You seem like you could use some company tonight.” She moved closer to him, stroking his arm. 

Before he realized what was happening he was kissing Gabi furiously. His large fingers twisted in her short red hair, bringing her closer to him. Gabi’s hands roamed his body unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his tight abs as she made her way to his belt buckle. 

“Holy shit,” she gasped, palming his dick through his underwear. She began to rub his outline up and down before dropping to her knees and releasing his dick, taking him in her mouth. 

He groaned as he fisted his hand in her hair and thrust into her mouth, making her gag. Any gentleness he usually reserved for Gemma was gone. Gabi didn’t seem to mind and continued to move up and down his shaft, circling his tip with her tongue. Without breaking contact he dug his hand in the bowl next to them, spilling condoms all over the floor, haphazardly ripping one open with his teeth. He grabbed her hair again this time pulling her off of him. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” he growled, rolling the condom on. 

She wasted no time taking off her top, hiking her skirt up removing her lacy red thong. He grabbed her roughly, spinning her around and pushing her forward against the desk. Suresh came up behind her gripping her hips roughly as he positioned himself between her legs, he thrust into her without warning. His thick, long dick filled Gabi completely, causing her to scream out in sheer pleasure. Suresh thrust into her hard and fast, his hands moving up her body to roughly grab her breasts. Gabi continued to scream at the top of her lungs. 

He kept thrusting into her harder and faster, gripping into her hips so hard he knew there would be bruises in place of his fingerprints tomorrow. 

“I’m coming…I’m COMING!!” she screamed, as her walls tightened around him. 

He felt his body growing in anticipation and he came with her. The room was silent outside of their heavy breathing. Suresh pulled himself off of her, removing the condom and crashed down on the couch.

“Oh my god Suresh, that was incredible,” she sighed blissfully, as she cleaned herself off and adjusted her skirt. 

He nodded at her but said nothing. 

She looked at him seductively, as she strutted over to the couch, with just her lacy bra and skirt. She laid next to him and took out her phone and started to take some pictures of the two of them. 

“Add your number to my phone,” she held out her hand, handing him her iPhone and he saved his contact information. 

“I’ll send you these later so you don’t forget this night,” she said. 

Suresh nodded and soon fell into a drunken, fitful sleep. 

As he stirred awake, his brain felt entirely too large for his skull. His head throbbed, his mouth felt dry and disgusting and he desperately needed water, but he couldn’t move because Gabi was still cuddled close to him. 

Shit shit shit. Suresh what the fuck did you do? 

He didn’t want to wake her and have to face the consequences of his actions. So he got up slowly and moved methodically to his clothes that were thrown in a pile on the ground and started to get dressed. 

Where the fuck is my phone? My keys? Shit Gemma is never going to forgive me for this.

He saw his phone, keys, wallet and belt piled together in a corner and he ran to them.

“Where’s the fire,” Gabi giggled. 

“I have to go. I can’t be here. I’m- I’m sorry. Thank you for letting me crash.” Suresh ran like a bat out of hell from the office, leaving Gabi alone. 

I cheated on Gemma. I cheated on the literal love of my life. I ruined everything because of one fight. 

He turned his phone back on from airplane mode and he saw all of the missed text messages from Gemma. 

G: Babe I’m sorry you’re right…come back please 

G: i love u resh i didnt want to go out but i still wanted to see you tonight i ordered from all your favorite places 

G: Babe please don’t be like this. I’m sorry i have been pushing you away but i promise you that im done. I dont want to lose you

G: I’m going to make it up to you

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. Make it up to ME?! After what I’ve just fucking done. 

The realization of what he did hit him like a ton of bricks. 

I have to tell her. I can’t keep this from her. But if I tell her she’ll leave me. But if I don’t tell her and she finds out, she’ll definitely leave me.

Suresh ran through the options in his mind. Gemma was fragile right now, her parents’ separation had taken a toll on her. Telling her that he cheated would only further hurt and break her. He didn’t want to be the person that caused her more heartache. She didn’t deserve that. Not for a mistake he made. But hiding this from Gemma would mean holding onto the biggest secret he’d ever had in his life. He knew the guilt would eat at him. But he deserved that. He deserved to feel the pain and guilt of hurting Gemma, something he wished he had never done. 

If I tell her she’ll be devastated. I can’t hurt her like this. I’d rather suffer than have Gemma hurting for one day. 

He rushed into the shower when he got home, scrubbing his skin raw wanting to get any remnants of last night off of him. As the water poured down around him, Suresh couldn’t hold back the heavy sobs that escaped him. The guilt of what he had done eating away at him inside. 

She’s never going to forgive me for this. 

After changing into a t-shirt and lounge pants, Suresh grabbed his phone finally ready to call Gemma. As he waited for the first dial tone, he heard someone entering his apartment, he looked up and there she was. With red rimmed eyes like she’d been crying all night or for the greater part of it. She ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry babe,” she said, burying her face in his chest. “You don’t deserve how awful I’ve been to you the last few weeks.” She looked up at him. “Have you been crying too?” She asked looking deep into his own red rimmed eyes.

FUCK. Why did she have to apologize to me? I don’t deserve any apologies right now. 

“A little. I don’t want to lose you Gem.” 

In that moment her lips pressed into his, the kiss was soft but charged with a longing that Suresh had always loved. Suresh pulled back from the kiss, his forehead touching hers and he looked deep in Gemma’s eyes. 

“I don’t want to lose you G…” he hesitated as if he was going to say something else, his expression unreadable. 

I’m not going to lose you Gem, I can’t. It’s never going to happen again. I promise.

Gemma smiled at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer as she crashed her lips onto his again for a scorching kiss. 

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly.

[occultboyscout]

hello hello~ i just found your blog just now and after some scrolling i can tell i will really enjoy following you.

this actually woke up within me an interesting thought and i thought maybe you wouldnt mind if i shared it? i find myself very inspired by christian/jewish mystics and hermeticists that i know due to the amount of academic,philosophical and mystical knowledge involved in those practices, and i find myself being drawn to traditional magic but (classic story nothing unique) oh gosh the heebie jebies over any mention of „the one god” are strong and not lessening. i know mysticism is all about gaining gnosis over what god means to you but born in poland = religious ickeys. i have slowly started incorporating deities into my work, and im starting to feel pleasure venerating hermes and apollo but those are productive connections with specific purposes so its not what i imagine when i think of worship.

have you known people in this situation who have eventually figured out a way to interact with this sphere of esotericism? of course i understand if my question is sudden and overtly personal for a first message haha. let me know if thats the case, otherwise im curious to hear from you!

I'm glad for the question. I think these sorts of conversations (despite how personal they can be) are incredibly important to have and discuss. I can't offer you a clear answer, but hopefully I can add a little bit to your process.

I talk a little bit about this on an upcoming episode of Luxoccult, so if you're a podcast fan keep an eye on that feed. It might be better to hear me say some of this stuff out loud. In the same breath I apologize if I repeat myself.

I went through a very similar thing. When I started to feel a pull towards the grimoires and the history of western magic I felt an incredible amount of fear. I had done so much to distance myself from that world. I had so much suffering inflicted upon me as a queer man in America by Christians and in the name of Christ. I was also someone who had worked for the church, had done ecclesiastical work. Someone who thought I had done a lot of good through that. I turned to Chaos Magic and, through that to Heathenry, to give myself an escape from that confusion. An escape from the dissonance I felt between my work and the people around me.

What purpose could there be for me, someone who was wildly queer and polyamorous and loving it, to engage with the work of dead guys whose perception of good was fundamentally tied with the virginal?

My salvation was philosophy. The realization that our ontologies are not set in stone, and that we have always found some way to disagree. That in disagreeing, in building my own framework for how this operates, I was contributing more to the tradition of western magic and the future of it than by blindly subscribing to the ontologies of my forbears.

The grimoires are prescriptive. They offer us names and seals and modes to operate. And they work as intended. They should be engaged with on their own terms and using their own methods. As best as we have the capability to. None of that means that we are the same as the people who wrote them, or have the same perspectives.

On one hand it is our obligation to know the traditions we pull from, to respect them. We have to put in the work. On the other, it is not our obligation to remain unchanging. To conservatively rest on the laurels of our predecessors.

Read up on some philosophy. Some *weird* philosophy. Check out some Neoplatonists and some Pythagoreans and some "Gnostics" (quotations for how academically fraught that word is). See their perceptions of God or the Monad and what that actually meant to them. See if the idea of God you come out the other end with is something that evens negates the ideas you had already. Sometimes the problem is semantic more than anything else.

I highly recommend the podcast The Secret History of Western Esotericism as a jumping off point for some of these philosophies. The way Eric condenses some of these ideas it can be a great jumping off point for "oh hey actually I kinda like that".

Most importantly however, break your brain a bit before you start getting hard ideas. I'm recommending starting with the philosophy NOT because I want you to have a hard ontology before diving into western magic. I want you to instead have a broader understanding of the many ways people have done and thought about this stuff. That there's no one mode of thought for approaching it.

Finally, you don't have to do any of this. Yes the story of western magic is wrapped up in the grimoires, and it will in some way inform a ton of what any of us in the west find ourselves doing anyway. And I find it, for that reason and others, important to be well-read in. But you are in no obligation to do fucking anything, for any reason. And you are under no obligation to do magic in any way other than the way you want to do it. If that ends up putting theurgy off the table? Fine, that's great. You'll be better for having tried, and for being willing to expand in the first place.

Fair warning, I went on this journey and found myself a Christian again (of a sort). I'm not upset by that. But to some of my friends who broke hard from the church that change in me was confusing and strange. We run the risk of changing no matter what we choose to engage with. As a magician, that's a risk I'm willing to take.

[i3utterflyeffect]

Triple Affirmative

it's once in a blue moon lads. that means it's fic time (even though im very rusty) anyway i wrote this in 30 minutes or smthn bc i had the idea and thought it was cool

AO3 Link

Summary: Two mysterious stories become one. Sometimes, you must join the cycle to end it.

Sliver knew this was risky. How could fae not know? 

The danger of gene editing had already made itself clear when iterators had begun to come down with the rot. The process of creating creatures was safe, of course.

But to control to a new, separated puppet was completely unheard of.

Nonetheless, Sliver was sure that if this worked, everyone could escape this damned cycle.

The triple affirmative was not something other beings needed, but none of the iterators had a choice in it. If they could all ascend, however, there was nothing left to stay here for.

Faer sat down in front of the new puppet.

It was a green, furred slugcat— a variety special to Sliver’s cold reigon. They were adaptable, clever, social. They could travel long distances.

It was perfect.

Faer began the process.

Despite the tingling of faer neurons reaching out, the alien feeling of a new body, it came quite easy. Fae’s mind wanted to flit about, the excitement getting to faer, but the distraction was too costly to risk, so faer set into a low power mode, only focusing on the work.

Cycles and cycles passed. Faer did not know if the others were calling.

All they knew is that the solution was close.

So close

that they could

touch it.

100% COMPLETE.

The notification was jarring, startling fae out of faer focus. 

Faw could feel the defined surrounding of the slugcat. That was a good start.

Sliver moved one paw.

Then the other.

Slowly, fae stood, and a thrill rushed through their body.

TRIPLE AFFIRMATIVE.

Sliver had found the way out. They were free. Everyone could finally, finally be free!

The excitement overwhelmed faer systems, and at first, faer didn’t care to monitor that feeling.

That is, until fae felt a spark.

Suddenly, agony ripped through every piece of faer— from the smallest neuron to the surface of their can— and it hurt, IT HURT— 

A scream ripped from faer vocal cords as everything began to malfunction in an agonizing series of individual processes.

First, faer cooling systems.

Then, the gravity of faer rarefraction cells.

The spine carrying faer puppet began to seize as faer body thrashed in the air, and neurons dropped dead one at a time.

It was at the very end, where the chill of death settled in, that something happened.

The scorching pain became background to an unusual sense of peace.

Fae could see it. 

Fae could see it all. 

Every ancient that had built faer and faer siblings. Every creature that had journeyed to the void sea. A cycle that spun on into eternity.

Sliver was not sure where fae was, or even who fae was, but the knowledge of ten thousand eons poured into their mind.

Fae thought faer processors would not be able to take it, and yet somehow, faer mind was clear as ever. The knowledge wound through every part of fae, before neatly furling in faer chest, like golden thread on a spool.

Fae felt more awake than ever, not weighed down by every process that had plagued faer mind anymore.

Somehow, the feeling didn’t quite dissipate with the high that came with it.

Sliver’s senses returned to faer, and fae found faerself staring up at faer hanging puppet, limp in the air.

Fae could feel their eyelids over their eyes still, but vision remained with them all the same.

When fae opened faer eyes, fae saw golden string.

It hung from every surface, somehow denoting a date in faer mind.

The answer finally came to faer as fae stared into the yarn intertwined with everything.

Fae could cut these threads.

Fae could cut a cycle short.

My string...?

Looking down at faerself, fae found a thread spiraling all around them, tangled and knotted, unruly.

It did not end. In fact, it seemed to go on forever. Fae’s paws went through the wires when they tried to cut it.

Eternity was designated to the thread.

It would never end.

But if fae could cut each thread but faer own, that meant fae had found the Triple Affirmative. For everything.

Everything but faerself.

A grim whisper of a laugh escaped faer lungs, sounding more like a breath of air than a sound.

Fae finally wobbled up onto faer own two feet.

If fae was the solution, then fae needed to get moving. Faer siblings would not free themselves.

Silently, fae wondered if eternity would be more bearable if fae could journey.

Fae would have to find that out for faerself.

[octogenius]

Finished Street Fighter 6′s World Tour (story mode, basically) and I liked it a lot.  It did a really good job teaching basics and then slowly escalating things, guiding you through learning a lot of fundamentals and building upon those.  You go from enemies you need to throw, to enemies you need to find good openings to throw, to enemies you need to throw when they attempt a certain move that leaves them vulnerable, etc.  That kind of thing, but across the board- when to go for high or low hits, overheads, parries, all the drive mechanics.  All wrapped up in what I can best describe as a very Yakuza/Like A Dragon inspired open world game.

It introduces it all bit by bit and then slowly pulls it all together, layers it on top of one another, and by the time you’re reaching the final chapter you’ll find that some fights are almost like puzzles you have to solve, utilizing all the tools you’ve learned along the way.  It’s very satisfying, and it also helps you come to terms with all the mechanics and concepts the game wants you to handle when you’re playing online against other folks.

Capcom really made this whole concept work very well on their first try.  I hope they iterate on it and expand it in future SF games. I know the DLC characters will add some more content to World Tour when they’re added, but I’d really like to see the story continued as well- my only real complaint is that World Tour’s ending feels more like an ‘end of act 2′ than it does an actual ending. anyway im gonna figure out how to make marisa punch my friends good now

[machinedramon]

drawing with my finger on the switch is absurdly difficult but I drew my octoling and spent like a collective hour on him so now yall get to look at him

[someone1348]

It feels good to be back! Apologies on being so inactive on here I've never had time, this summer has been too much but i found some time and inspiration to write so here we are!

People in this: Ler!Ranboo, Lee!Tubbo

This is a somewhat Irl fic!

(Lore is mentioned but its not based on the actual dream smp lore story so don't worry none of what you are going to read ever happened! It just fit the story!)

Tw: none, well i guess the smallest amount of fear, but other than that nothing!

I hope you all enjoyyy again im so sorry! Enjoy the fic my friends! And feel free to leave some requests in the asks! :]

___________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Enderwalking In Real Life!

Tubbo was the happiest of people on the planet right now! His favorite person ever ranboo! Who he'd been playing minecraft with for years it feels like was here! In the Uk! With him!

He could actually see him, hug him, he was real and he was here with him! For a few months too! Its perfect! The world seemed to let the smaller exhale, this is all i need.

The younger smiled contently as he watched him game on the pc he had set up on stream awhile back for his actual meeting. The Taller suggested they do some lore so that's exactly what happened, they logged on together and got started on some lore!

The chat went wild as they saw their beloved Ranboo start enderwalking as the Beeboy and their kid Michael slept

"⊑⟒⌰⌰⍜ ⎎⍀⟟⟒⋏⎅⌇, ⊑⟒⏃⍀⏁"

He spoke as he wondered around not being aware enough to stop or understand what he was saying, he eventually walked all the way back home resting back in his husband's embrace.

End stream,

Tubbo laughed to himself, Ranboo tilted his head looking at him "what are you giggling about hmmm?~" a slight teasing tone was hinted making him giggle a bit more

"Noho I'm just saying you are alot like your character!"

"Yeah? How so?" The taller asked curiously as the other shot him a big smile

"You both sleepwalk!"

"Hmm, i guess enderwalking is like sleepwalking but it was a one time thing for me! Irl me that is"

"Pffft! You kidding man you do it every night!" Tubbo lightly hit his shoulder as Ranboo giggled too "do not!" Pushing him back lightly going at it like two kids arguing over who did what

It was a great moment that was quickly replaced with the idea of food and bed. It was quite late so they got some snacks before brushing their teeth and going to bed.

"Hey! Let me know Tommrow if i sleep walk again tonight i wanna track these things"

"You got it bossman! Nighttt!"

"Goodnighttt!!"

And just like that the two were out cold, nothing but the sound of the wind, some crickets, leaves rustling ever so slightly, andd ranboo sleep walking and making noise.

It was almost peaceful, normally Tubbo slept through Ranboo's nighttime antics but this time the noise was to much so he stayed up studying him to make sure the poor guy didn't hurt himself.

It was the normal for the most part, a few small words or sentences barely noticeable by the human ear, some moving of things, bumping gently into a wall, staring out into the distance

Things seemed quite well so when Tubbo was about to go back to bed that's when he heard it

"Tubbo"

The sleepwalking 6'6 man had turned from his position by the window and looked him dead in the eyes

Tubbo tilted his head, he's said his name before in this state but something about it felt different, off, the smaller was slightly unsettled that was before Ranboo got closer saying his name again, Tubbo didn't notice anything strange about his walking, he was definitely sleeping but this was just weird.

Ranboo got close enough to where he was right beside the known goat hybrid twitch streamer, trying not to wake him up because walking up a sleepwalker is extremely dangerous he whispered gently

"Yeah man"

That was when he caught it "Tubbo,,,,,GOTCHA!" Ranboo's long arm's shot down to tickle alll over the poor sleepy boy's sides, his shirt already a little up from sleeping earlier, his bare skin being attacked without any warning or anything he shrieked, thanking the universe that the room was sound proof

"RAHahaAhaHanbOO!" The brunette giggled in different pitches squirming around on his bed as Ranboo smirked giggling to himself before pretending to sleepwalk again with his speech as his wiggly fingers found there way under his shirt and up to tickle all over his ribs, although it was less ticklish it was still fun!

"Tickle tickle tickle tickle" Ranboo repeated to Tubbo in his sleepwalk tone

"I knohohow yohohour awaha-AHHAGSAH!"

Tubbo's speech was cut off when the said sleepwalker tickled his underarms with such skill it was alot more ticklish then normal maybe it was because he was tired or Ranboo's tricks but he was definitely alot more ticklish than he thought he would be!

"Awww thats so cute, I've caught myself a ticklish little Tubbo for the road! Tickle tickle tickleee~" he teased tickling his neck and ears Tubbo scrunching up giggling his head off

"NahaHAha no EAhahArs NohohO RahaHanbooo!!" Tubbo whined a bit as the man cooed even more

"Dawww that's so cute! Ticklish little ears, hehe Kitchy Kitchy coo~" he whispered in his other ear blowing some air at the end so it's extra Ticklish, 'he was definitely ler mode now' Tubbo thought to himself before covering his own face

Ranboo giggled and paused the tickling for a second "Aww is the lee embarrassed"

"Not a lehee! And no! You just caught me off gaurd!"

"Whatever you say lee~ now uncover your face i wanna see your smile or else~" the open threat made tubbo smirk under his hands refusing to take them off yet

"Or else what big man~" The smaller teased back before hearing an deep inhale of breath

"Wait! wait! WAit RAN-BAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAAHA PLEAHAHAHASE!!!" Tubbo had uncovered his face but

The taller enderboy blew a gaint raspberry on his stomach right over his bellybutton

"RAHAHAAHAHANBOO WAHAHAIT! NO- AHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHASE!!" Ranboo had now begun tickling the man's poor ticklish stomach with one hand scribbling and digging (gently) as the other slowly and teasingly made shapes and other things with his nails driving the smaller into a giggly mess

"HAHAHAHAHA RAHAHAAHAHANBOO!"

Tubbo's mind was so sleepy all he could think about was how much it tickled 'it tickles, it tickles eep!' He was happy, giggly, red faced, smiling but most importantly he was comfortable, physical contact isn't really his strong point he's trying but with ranboo he was safe, comfortable, this was good. He was good.

"Tickletickletickletickle Tktktktktktktk~" the scribbling got more and more hyper as Ranboo got more into the babytalk, laughing along with his best friend

"OKAHAHAY PLEAHAHAHASE IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES! MEHEHERCY!" He immediately stopped rubbing the tickles away,

"You alright bud? Im sorry if i went alittle overboard" the taller rubbed the back of his neck in slight embarrassment

"Naha you're good man, that was fun!" Tubbo's smile was genuine and that is exactly what Ranboo wanted to see

The taller sat down on Tubbo's bed next to him as the said boy kept talking now that he was breathing normally again "i can't believe you tricked me like that!" He giggled pushing Ranboo again both laughing happily together

"It was the perfect plan! Im just surprised it actually worked!"

"I was sleepy, plus you're a great actor!"

Ranboo giggled

"Well played my friend, well played" Tubbo giggled before knocking out from already being sleepy to now tickled to peices he was down, giggling again the american smiled contently tucking him in before going to bed himself.

That nights rest was the best one they've both had in a long time, the rustle of the leaves and the sound of the fan in the distance everything seemed perfect, it was the best, Together.

--------------------------------------------------

:]

I hope you all enjoyedd!!! Again im so sorry for all the inconveniences! I love you all! Drink some water, eat something today, take a shower, take at least one water bottle out of your room, and take care of yourself because you deserve it! You are loved, appreciated, stronger than you know and everything is going to be all good! Big hugs from me to you my friends! <3

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[probably-haven]

Hello!! After seeing what you wrote about xiaoven fics I went to see what things you usually write and omg, your archon Venti headcanons????? I am absolutely in love. So if it isn't annoying, could you talk about xiaoven or Venti or Xiao or whatever ship or character you like? I don't care what you are going to say, I just want to know more about your thoughts ^^

I- is this... bestie, this is essentially a free ramble pass- kerujsgheskdfug. Trust me when I say that in no way is this, and in no way will it ever be annoying in the slightest- i literally- lets just say rambling off thoughts is kind of my specialty, especially when provided a topic to branch off of because otherwise I'm just- really indecisive about it so- iujskdh yeah- 100% definitely down to talk about Venti, Xiao, and/or Xiaoven XD. Also, yes- it may have been awhile since i last posted one(cuz again, indecisive about which direction to take part 5), but the Archon War Era Venti headcanons are still without a doubt my favorite posts I've made. It's just such an interesting topic with such endless potential that so few people actually think about or consider or even realize is there, so i always just get really psyched whenever i see someone interact with them lol.

.... this ended up being a bit of a mess: warning in advance

Anyway! onto the actual content!

- You see the thing about Xiaoven is that there's a lot of different ways that it could end up working out, and just personally my favorite way of portraying Xiaoven in my mind is as an unlabeled relationship because if anyone in genshin would give off that vibe its these two. And a number of other reasons.

- Firstly, I heavily headcanon Venti as being an aroace polyplatonic or perhaps heavily demiromantic. However, regardless of this I just don't think that Venti is really the kind of person to worry about how he should label his feelings, thinking it's silly to try to put them in one box or the other, especially with feelings and emotions being as fluid as they are in general. Plus it fits his whole God of Freedom vibe. I just- dont think he's the biggest fan of labels or social categorization in general.

- And secondly on the hand of Xiao... his defense mechanisms are very much ingrained in his personality. It's probably hard enough for him to not go into fight or flight(the answer is fight) at the slightest affection at first, at the slightest feeling of vulnerability. Even further down the line, with his fierce dedication to Liyue, I cant help but get the vibe that the moment he recognized that he was falling for Venti he would begin avoiding him, not only to avoid distraction from his duty, but to avoid corrupting him or losing him in general like he has with like basically every other person he gets close with(even believing that the cycle had repeated once more when he first heard of Morax's death)... now imagine Venti tryna slap a label on their relationship and tell me Xiao would have a positive reaction.

- The thing with Xiaoven.... honestly, i feel like theres more ways that it can go wrong than it can go right, but if they do manage to make their relationship work out, it's just simply beautiful in all terms of the word.

- Lets talk about killing. - During the Archon War, both were forced to kill a large number of people and gods alike- Venti out of a need to remain alive to protect Mondstadt, it's freedom, and the nameless bard's legacy by extent- and Xiao out of servitude to the god that was once his master

..... actually- break here- ive talked a lot about Venti on this blog but I havent actually spoken about Xiao all that much- so i should probably do that a bit first... do note though that my characterization of Xiao is pretty flexible actually- this is just- the possible characterization of him that i tend to favor as being the most- uh- "realistically complex"

-

Theres a line I saw this one time in a certain story: "He is a trained weapon. That's what he is, was, and always will be. You cannot change that so stop trying." And i just- think its a really interesting concept- that applies pretty well to Xiao now that i actually think about it. - the concept behind it is this: After spending more than a vast majority of his life killing or otherwise in battle, it's become a part of who he is, a normalcy that after centuries and centuries would be near impossible to get rid of or reverse, and even if it was possible, with his karmic debt constantly eating away at him its unlikely he has enough time left for that to happen. - it sounds like a cruel thing to say about him- but in context it's actually pretty layered and i think about it a lot. It's not as much a "he's a killer lol, that his whole personality" its more of a "The centuries of trauma he experienced have conditioned him into a constantly alert and battle ready mindset while also shaping his dehumanizing inferior-in-worth-but-superior-in-capability view of himself that would have likely been necessary to get through those time, and at this point he's been under that conditioning for long enough that it's essentially ingrained itself in his personality."

- the main idea is- it's a part of who he is, that needs to be accepted as who he is because its not something that he can just up and change. It's not all he is of course but his constant battle mode, as though always waiting to be ambushed or to be granted a new target to eradicate.

a couple character story quotes:

-"His past of service under the evil god had rid Xiao of his innocence and gentleness. All that remained within him was the means to kill and the weight of his sins. The only way he could be of service to mortals was in combat." -"Xiao does not feel any hatred. Having lived for over two thousand years, no single karmic debt constitutes anything more than a fleeting memory. No grudge can last a thousand years; nor is any debt so great that it cannot be paid off in this time. Xiao has spent many long years alone. But his battles have never been in vain." -"where did Xiao have to return to? He was merely leaving the battlefield." -"since Xiao wages a constant war against dark forces powerful enough to devour Liyue in its entirety, any bystanders who witness him in the heat of battle are likely to end up as collateral damage." -"The war he fights can never be won, and will never come to an end." -"Because ultimately, the one with whom Xiao wrestles is himself."

i feel like at some point this very nearly did consume his whole personality, almost turning him into nothing more than a being of slaughter under Morax's control, devoid of any "humanity" at all, consumed and corrupted by his karmic debt like his fellow yakshas before him. - until he experienced a moment of clarity- a song in the wind, the peaceful melody of a dihua flute. - and pulled back from the border of something he wouldnt have been able to return from, there a was a shift in his mind- a concept grown unfamiliar enough with time that it took him a great time to identify what it was; a curiosity. Something that there was no place for on the battlefield, something that by all means should have been completely useless to Xiao, and yet he held onto that curiosity, slowly regaining over time, a sense of who he was and who he could choose to be with each song that the wind chose to carry towards him every once in a blue moon.

and eventually that curiousity turned to longing. Longing "for a day to come when he will wear the mask and dance — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers"

...... uh- heh- if you couldn’t tell already i have a tendency to make my characterizations/analyses of characters more serious that i probably should. 

to summarize: Xiao is constantly toeing the line between his ingrained nature and his humanity- almost as though still trying to decide how much of that humanity he deserves to have, how much he is allowed to have, and how much is safe to have.

^looking back after writing this, i think the best way to explain it is that this is the view that i keep in mind/the lense that i tend to most enjoy looking through and refering back to while examining and/or analyzing his character, actions, story, lines, and overall personality.

idk- i kinda got off track but i just think its a really interesting interpretation to think about because it has some really interesting implications ig- it’s not the full extent of how i view him of course, but i kinda got ahead of myself and its long enough as is so ill just elaborate as i go- Lol i actually have in progress playlists for both him and venti and just- vibes- i could ramble about the playlists alone for hours explaining everything... It’s probably a problem- uh- ill keep going now lol.

anyways! stepping off the angst path for a brief break! Brought to you by their lines in the snow: both waiting for it to get thick enough, Venti for the purpose of a snowball fight and Xiao for the purpose of a tasty and nutritious breakfast.

but its actually something of note that Xiao doesnt actually need to eat so anything he does eat is usually out of obligation or enjoyment- so like.... snow.... like i dont blame him, but of all things- an adeptus who refuses to eat basically anything but almond tofu looks at the freezing-cold-floor-water that yeeted itself from above and decided at some point- damn- that seems more edible than basically ever single actually edible thing ever.... im gonna eat it- like- im glad if eating snow makes him happy but- at the same time...

He probably convinces Venti to eat snow too though and Venti wouldnt even resist I mean he’s wind and has probably consumed worse things in his time so- 2 anemo cryptids with glowing tattoos sitting in Dragonspine monching snow in the dead of night is an amusing thought to me.

- kay, now back to more serious-toned thoughts

One of the things about the ship that i really like is the different contradicting parallels between them:

A lot of how i view Xiao’s character is someone formed largely by the things he cant control and who was forced to accept that accepted that and learned to thrive in it as much as he can.  Venti on the other hand is surrounded by things he cant control and is ever adapting to control as much as he can while embracing whatever he cant as being part of the unpredictability of the world, seeing beauty in it. 

both of them have lost people and do what they do to honor their memory: Xiao continues to do what the Yakshas once did And Venti chooses to do what his friend couldn’t

Xiao’s power coming from himself  and Venti’s from others And both seem to appear to use their power for their own gain while truly helping others behind the scenes

both have killed a lot of people during the archon war Xiao views it as another necessary event out of his control and Venti would likely view it as a tragedy he chose to enact himself

and this is where we meet out balance

Xiao- contrary to how i think a lot of people view him as thinking of himself as a monster- seems canonically to have accepted this as part of his duty, as long as those he killed are not mortals. I dont think he enjoys it no- but someone has to do it and he’s just accepted that its a part of his duty Venti on the other hand-

See the beauty of the ship- as someone with an angst-centric mind- is this- these are two of the most traumatized mfers in the game 

Xiao is by far the one who needs the most help and who can serve to benefit most from the ship- but he is nowhere near self aware enough to recognize that there’s anything wrong or unhealthy about his mindset in the slightest-

whereas you have the contrast with Venti who sorted through most of his trauma with the nameless bard alone during the archon war and while the result appears more healthy- is still really not- but he’s not self aware of that either because i mean- who’s going to tell him? nobody even knows. 

however- venti is aware enough to notice flaws in Xiao’s mindset and “Venti” enough to want to help them through it-

Xiao- while not aware enough to recognize the flaws in Venti’s mindset, can recognize where it contrasts with his own, and is blunt enough to point it out- and then it’s out there to be mulled over- 

they’re so similar and yet so different and a feel just conversing between the two of them, being in each others precense, just being exposed to two mindsets that are so very different could do both of them a whole lot of good.

GEEE THAT BIT OF RAMBLING HAD LITTLE TO NO DIRECTION AT ALL- LET ME-- LET ME MAKE THIS START MAKING SENSE- WITH... DYNAMICS OR SOMETHING

I don’t think Xiao needs to sleep really- and i dont think that sleeping would do anything except make him uneasy at first- he’d probably just get nightmares after all he’s been through- but with Venti he would soon learn that it doesn’t have to be that way, lulled into the first peaceful sleep he’s had in... as long as he can remember.

anywho back to not making sense cuz im fickle and i think most questions about ships are best displayed through character interactions so like- a possible exchange thats cliche but cliches exist for a reason

Xiao: Why do you try so hard to help me, it isn’t easy. I know that much Venti, with the most adoring expression: Because you’re worth it, obviously Xiao: But surely there are others more deserving of- Venti: No Xiao, everyone is just as deserving as the next person, you included Xiao: Then why me above others? Venti: ehe, cuz ur my warrior of course [O//////O oh shit, hes right] Xiao: My contract is with Morax alone [gay panic but in broody yaksha]

it’s kinda difficult cuz neither of them really address their feelings.  I mean Venti does but he does it very indirectly and its rare that he ever does it with like- genuine directness- even spilling his backstory was in the form of a song- and told in the third person- so a lot of their interactions would often have some deeper meaning, especially with Venti being the bard he is. 

I come up with a lot of- errant thoughts about Xiaoven- but this is making me realize that a true analysis of their ship is rather difficult because it just encompasses so many dynamics so its hard to settle on just one and not go rambling about who knows what bouncing from one end of the ship to the other-  Because you truly can and thats the beauty of it

within one moment you can be having a heartfelt conversation about the archon war the impact of lost friends and times past, and the next moment Venti is trying to forcefeed Xiao an apple while Xiao screams about disrespecting the adepti and its just- so lovely

so while they have picnics with nothing but apples, dandelion wine, and almond tofu they can sit down and talk about the dreams Xiao once devoured, and the dandelion wine and apple cider that the first Ragnvindir invented from the plants that never could have grown in Old Mond. The foods that tasted of familiarity, or of the grilled ticker fish Pervases always used to eat, foods that tasted of friends and frankly family that had since passed, glaze lilies and cecilias and qingxin flowers scattered in the surroundings and woven into Xiao’s neat braids and Venti’s now messy ones, rebraided by the steady and inexperienced hands of one unused to gentle action. 

and then of course Venti steals Xiao’s tofu once the mood becomes too grim and replaces it with a bottle of wine that Xiao refers to as “vile poison,” a remark that fatally wounds Venti as he collapses on the floor, proclaiming how he can only be healed by a Yaksha’s kiss. Xiao ignores this of course and simply takes back his tofu with a slight smile on his face, but as Venti persists he soundlessly places a kiss on his own palm before intertwining their fingers and pulling him back up from where he was dramatically sprawled on the floor, grumbling about how such action was “unbecoming of an archon.” A sign of affection only Xiao would ever know about. But Venti is literally wind and I hc his senses work differently anyways so he definitely knows- plus Xiao’s face is red as the blood of his enemies and the way he is pointedly not looking at Venti at all really speaks volumes anyways. 

 -Venti playing epic battle music whenever Xiao goes into fights in what looks like a ridiculously extra performance to anyone else but is actually doing wonders to keep Xiao’s karma at bay

-Venti preaches the practice of “kissing wounds better” and Xiao is unfamiliar with this medical treatment but views it as unnecessary regardless because adepti have accelerated healing, doesn’t mean he’s going to stop him though. 

-Messages whispered on the wind

-Venti’s 1000 year sleep- an accident, not a fun time for the yaksha, and not a fun time for Venti once he woke up. Venti is actually more afraid of restful sleep than Xiao is, hence the sleeping in trees thing, but when Xiao is there, he can sleep restfully with faith that Xiao wont let another millennia slip through his fingertips. 

- Xiao tends to make excuses when doing things that aren’t necessary to his duty, like in his birthday voice line “Have this, it’s a butterfly i made from leaves... Okay. Take it. It’s an adepti amulet -- it staves off evil” because at the current point in his progress it helps him to feel like he’s allowed to do these things. Not wanting to put him off from progress, Venti never comments on his excuse but never fails to whisper a quick reminder of how proud he is of how far Xiao had come.

- Xiao’s karma saddens Venti greatly- not only because of how it effects Xiao but also because its a reminder that as much as Venti tries to honor the memory of those he’s killed, there will always be those who resent him for it, and when he took the option of living away from them, he truly can’t blame them. - And when he gets too wrapped up in thoughts, whether around this topic or similar ones or otherwise, eventually, he’ll hear the sound of a flute on the wind. It’s not divine by any means, but as his own wind connects him to the source, he gets the sentiment all the same. “What impact does one individual’s remaining wrath have on the present. You have done much to help the living in the present” the unspoken idea that Xiao has included himself in that statement, because now, with Venti’s help he’s beginning to learn just how to experience living for himself. 

- Venti’s form and Xiao’s mask are off limit topics though because if either mentions it the other will counter with the opposite and the mood will turn immediately bitter at the idea that both know that what they’re doing is destructive but neither are willing to change

- Venti who has different tells for negative feelings than most people because as much as he likes to pretend it is- this form isnt his, and Xiao who is able to identify those

- many fanfics and headcanons have Venti recognizing when Xiao is uncomfortable and getting him out of those situations. I see that and I love it but i raise you: - Venti taking Xiao to Mondstadt, careful that he doesn’t get to the point that he’s uncomfortable. And nothing goes wrong exactly, but Xiao notices the the way Venti’s cape is blowing in the wind, the way he’s holding his weight, barely on his feet so much as floating on the wind, connected with the ground only for the sake of appearance, all the while he looks just as happy go lucky as ever. And without a word, he grabs his hand and teleports them both out of Mondstadt.  - turns out it was just a slight thing that reminded him of the archon war (cuz i will die on the hill of him having more tragic backstory than just Decarabian), and he of course gives a sincere if not flustered thanks to Xiao, because he’s really not used to people noticing. 

- Venti trying to vent sneakily through fictional stories and Xiao is just like “Didn’t that basically happen to you” and Venti is just like “<_< shit”

- Venti once said affectionally that he wished he had met Xiao sooner and Xiao immediately and seriously shot it down by saying “If you had, I would have been forced to kill you” and both of them now stay up at night wondering who would have won that fight, not sure which result would have hurt more. (because honestly I have no idea who would win in that fight and that terrifies me- I like to think it would have been one of those legends that end with “and the fight persists to this day” or something along those lines)

- “How long have you been together?” “Adepti have no need for-” “1000+ years T^T how dare you deny our love” “O///O our...? ...useless”

- its disney- let me explain- i have this- i have this headcanon inspired by watching too many animatics- - so venti has a human form that isnt his- which he would have had to get used to moving in- and he’s a bard- - uh- anyway- as a third degree black belt in mixed martial arts, i can speak as an authority on this(not really an authority since i havent gone since quarantine but lets pretend). We have a thing referred to as the big three(most things do), and those things are martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. The idea is that they reflect really well off of each other and the best in any one category are good in all three. Timing, balance, form, discipline, technique, hand-eye coordination, grace, ease of motion, they all play a part- anyway-

- Venti taking Xiao’s prowess in martial arts and acrobatics and teaching him how to dance, and as someone who’s extremely skilled in the first two, the third comes easy to him, almost naturally. And it’s delicate and beautiful and lovely and it isn’t hurting anyone. And Venti points all these things out and more and despite how much Xiao insists that he feels ridiculous he truly does enjoy it and it goes a long way towards helping him form more healthy views of himself and his worth.  - Verr Goldett walked in on him once and made a joke about performing at the inn. unfortunately Venti was there and agreed on Xiao’s behalf before he could protest and- and it wasn’t as bad as Xiao thought it would be... he still wouldn’t do it again though without reason, but with good enough reasoning he could probably be convinced. 

- anyways point is he likes dancing to Venti’s songs and i just think that’s really cute - just picture the idea that all the animatics you see actually have the potential to be canon- ugh

- venti tries holding something out of Xiao’s reach since he’s taller and Xiao just fucking teleports 

- both need their space but when they dont, all they have to do is speak the other’s name and they’ll be there.

- and because i just had to.... love languages

- lets start with Xiao- i don’t think he’d view acts of service or quailty time as a love language tbh, and he blunt but really bad with words so affirmation is out, leaving gift giving and physical touch. However, he seems to view most material things as meaningless so- - Xiao who’s love language is in his fleeting touches, something he’s only recently grown comfortable with because of Venti, and now is giving back, which he knows he doesn’t have to do, but that he want’s to, though he’ll still continue to make excuses for each one. “you were shivering” “The inn is high up, you could have fallen..... I said what I said, you’d question an adeptus?”

- and as easy as it is to say words of affirmation for Venti- he does that for everyone- i want to say his is actually acts of service - its the acts of service that let him see just how much Xiao has progressed afterall, from teaching him to dance, to playing another song on the flute, to supplying him with the almond tofu he seems to enjoy so much. Every little thing he does helps Xiao to grow and he couldn’t be happier about that. 

-

- of course most of my headcanons for the ship do take place latter into the relationship because- y’know the less serious unhealthy vibes allow for greater range of thought, but i do still love to think about the serious implications so i kinda hopped back and forth. So sorry about how messy it is btw, i kinda- got carried away- it kinda got some kind of structure near the end tho so- maybe it’s okay. anyway- back to... lol something, we’ll see where thought forests lead. 

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Found (Outside the Screen) (CC!Dream x GN!Reader) Part 2

Request: That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

I have written this three times over because tumblr didn’t save it. THEN. Tumblr doesn’t show it to ANYONE unless they check my account. This happened to my Ranboo fic as well... I will honestly cry if no one sees this.

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

Despite living in this house with him for a little over two years, it was beginning to feel like a maze. You couldn't tell which way was left and which way was right, your head spinning with panic as you gasped for breath.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

There were plenty of things failing to register in your mind as you ran down the empty sidewalks. Such as the poor choice (or lack) of shoes you were wearing, or even the heavy night rain pelting down on your shaking body.

Your lungs were burning.. But your brain had thrown itself so far into fight or flight mode that you had no care for anything around you, hardly blinking twice as the signs of unfamiliar street names flew past you.

Eventually, when you physically couldn't breathe any longer, you sat on a bench and took awhile to think. The consistent rain pelting down on your head was actually a decent grounder to help you snap yourself out of it... But that only caused more confusion and another wave of panic to wash over you.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you choked back a few sobs, trying your best to keep what was left of your composure. Very quickly, however, you gave up on trying to hold yourself together and broke down, hiding your face in your knees.

Time seemed to pass by way too quickly but also way too slowly at the same time.. Like time itself was giving you the one finger salute. When you finally stopped crying, you leaned back against the back of the bench and gave a shaky sigh before you decided to attempt to think rationally again.

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

You quickly scrambled to your pocket to pull out the cellular device, and stared at the black screen for a few seconds. Anxiety was the reason for your hesitance as you stared into your reflection, frowning slightly. Without thinking twice, you pressed the button and the screen lit up with various arrays of colours.

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

Twitter seemed to be losing their minds over your boyfriend's stream and wondering who the stranger was. Seeing the headlines flooded you with immeasurable guilt and you almost put your phone down again, if your phone didn't start buzzing.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

He sighed and there was a little bit of shuffling as well as a few male voices in the background. "No. Not in the slightest... Where are you? I want to apologize in person.. And when it doesn't sound like you're in a hurricane.."

You lifted your head up to look at the rain that was continuing to pelt down on you before looking around. "..I'm not sure.." You heard your partner echo your statement in question form as you looked for street signs through the rain. Glancing back at your phone, you saw the screen light up again, this time it was a warning label.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

There was a little bit of clattering and shuffling on the line as Clay hurriedly walked from the windows to the door, trying to see you from the home. "G-give me landmarks! Hurry!" He practically begged as you shot up from your bench, ignoring the burning soreness in your legs.

Spinning around quickly, you began listing off a few company buildings you saw, trying to shout over the rain and a few cars driving by. "Yeah-yeah! There's also that little sushi place beside the restaurant too.."

You heard the furious typing of his computer before another almost sob of relief. "You're on Rosewood Avenue... How the hell did you run that far? Okay, you're going to walk in the opposite direction of the sushi place until you reach a road called Miller Road, got that?" He waited for a verbal noise of agreement before continuing, "Once you get there, turn left and keep walking straight until you get to a steakhouse. I'll meet you half way, if you don't see me there, don't move unless you have to. Got it?" He asked firmly, with a small hint of desperation in his tone.

You rubbed your face as you mentally repeated the directions to yourself. "Yeah.. Yeah.. I got it." You began to walk along the sidewalks, your shoulders beginning to tremble from the water induced shivers trailing up and down your spine.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

Your mind was blurry but also hyper aware along the walk to the road where Clay told you to go. 'What was he going to say? If... He doesn't hate me... was he going to say- No.. no. He hadn't said that line in over a few months now.. No reason why he would say it now..' You mentally scolded yourself.

The rain didn't seem to be too keen on letting up as you walked through large rippling puddles. Your clothes were soaked, your hair completely drenched and you were pretty sure you were gonna need to buy a new phone with how much your current one was getting waterlogged..

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Part of you was still a bit.. angry... at Clay... He had ignored you for so long and wanted nothing to do with you.. Then suddenly you spill hot coffee on yourself and then boom, you have the man more focused than when he has a good speed run seed. What about all those times you were begging him to come to bed, or at least eat dinner at the table with you? Did you only matter when you were in pain?

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

As you began to walk closer, you saw him lift his head and stare at you for a few seconds before dropping the umbrella and lunge forward to wrap you in a loving embrace. "I'm sorry.." Was the first thing he whispered, his voice almost as hoarse as yours. "I know.. that a simple apology will never excuse what I put you through... You cared for me, and even after a stupidly ignored you... You still didn't leave, or get angry. I don't deserve you, I know that, and you have every right to be upset, angry or whatever you're feeling right now.. Please, it doesn't matter how long it takes... Just let me make it up to you and let me prove myself worthy of your love again.."

Your lips parted in surprise as you stared at him, the streetlight poorly capturing his normal beauty, but still doing it well enough that you felt your heart soar. "Clay..." Your eyes traced his features, his puffy and reddened eyes and his cheeks stained with tear tracks, "You have a lot to work and make up for... I'm not going to forgive you immediately, but I'm not going to leave you.. We can work things out.. Together, okay?"

He eagerly nodded and gently held your face in his hands before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll break away from video editing and streaming for a while.. So I can focus on repairing things with you.."

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

[icarushasfallenfromthestars]

That dream angst fuckin wrecked my heart..any chance for a part 2 with comfort(im not the og requester so if not thats fine its just OUGH my heart)

So both you and the og requester asked for a part 2, which means I'm definitely gonna do it! (I'd do it even if the og didn't ask so lmao) I HAD TO REWRITE THIS 12 GOD DAMN TIMES BECAUSE TUMBLR IS SHIT AT SAVING THINGS

I'm honestly so glad people enjoy my writings! Feel free to request more! My inbox is open and I have no requests lined up yet!

Once again. This is a completely fictitious story and version of Clay.

TW: Panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts,

Part one

Found (Outside The Screen) (Dream x GN! Reader) Part 2

"(Y/n)!"

His voice echoed through the house as you scrambled around corners to escape the possible wrath of your boyfriend. Or maybe even soon to be ex boyfriend.

Despite living in this house with him for a little over two years, it was beginning to feel like a maze. You couldn't tell which way was left and which way was right, your head spinning with panic as you gasped for breath.

He's gonna find you...

The house wasn't even that big, and quite an open concept, so you had no idea why you were finding it so confusing. All you knew at the moment was...

Get out.

Once your eyes landed on the door that lead out, you made a beeline towards it and flung it open. Maybe you should've known better than to attempt to run from the manhunt god...

The footsteps pounding against the floor not too far behind you startled you enough to jump outside and slam the door behind you in hopes of giving yourself enough time to run farther.

There were plenty of things failing to register in your mind as you ran down the empty sidewalks. Such as the poor choice (or lack) of shoes you were wearing, or even the heavy night rain pelting down on your shaking body.

Your lungs were burning.. But your brain had thrown itself so far into fight or flight mode that you had no care for anything around you, hardly blinking twice as the signs of unfamiliar street names flew past you.

Eventually, when you physically couldn't breathe any longer, you sat on a bench and took awhile to think. The consistent rain pelting down on your head was actually a decent grounder to help you snap yourself out of it... But that only caused more confusion and another wave of panic to wash over you.

Where... were you?

Doesn't matter. Don't go back.

Oh God... He hates you..

Why wouldn't he..?

He was too embarrassed to show you to his chat!

What did you do that was so embarrassing?

God.. What was so wrong with you that he stayed in his streaming room for days on end!?

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you choked back a few sobs, trying your best to keep what was left of your composure. Very quickly, however, you gave up on trying to hold yourself together and broke down, hiding your face in your knees.

Time seemed to pass by way too quickly but also way too slowly at the same time.. Like time itself was giving you the one finger salute. When you finally stopped crying, you leaned back against the back of the bench and gave a shaky sigh before you decided to attempt to think rationally again.

You had no clue where you were. Nothing looked familiar. What time is it? No clue, you don't have your... Your phone!

You quickly scrambled to your pocket to pull out the cellular device, and stared at the black screen for a few seconds. Anxiety was the reason for your hesitance as you stared into your reflection, frowning slightly. Without thinking twice, you pressed the button and the screen lit up with various arrays of colours.

78 Missed calls from Clay💚

2 Missed calls from George👓🇬🇧

7 Missed calls from Sapnap🔥

Was... He so mad that his friends were trying to yell at you too? You tilted your head slightly and scrolled through the other notifications on your lockscreen.

Twitter seemed to be losing their minds over your boyfriend's stream and wondering who the stranger was. Seeing the headlines flooded you with immeasurable guilt and you almost put your phone down again, if your phone didn't start buzzing.

You glanced down at the screen and say Clay was making call number 79... Man, he was persistent.. and he would probably continue to call until you answered...

Your finger hovered over the decline button, before slowly moving over and landing on the green one instead. "...Hello...?"

"(Y/n)...?" Had... He been crying...? "Oh my god! You're alive!" He gasped out with glee before giving a few sobs of... relief...?

"...You... Aren't... Mad?" You whispered very softly and hesitantly, your voice scratchy and sore from crying.

He sighed and there was a little bit of shuffling as well as a few male voices in the background. "No. Not in the slightest... Where are you? I want to apologize in person.. And when it doesn't sound like you're in a hurricane.."

You lifted your head up to look at the rain that was continuing to pelt down on you before looking around. "..I'm not sure.." You heard your partner echo your statement in question form as you looked for street signs through the rain. Glancing back at your phone, you saw the screen light up again, this time it was a warning label.

Your battery was almost dead...

"C-Clay.. My phone is going to die.." You murmured softly, your heart filling with dread as you turned down your brightness and closed any unnecessary apps.

There was a little bit of clattering and shuffling on the line as Clay hurriedly walked from the windows to the door, trying to see you from the home. "G-give me landmarks! Hurry!" He practically begged as you shot up from your bench, ignoring the burning soreness in your legs.

Spinning around quickly, you began listing off a few company buildings you saw, trying to shout over the rain and a few cars driving by. "Yeah-yeah! There's also that little sushi place beside the restaurant too.."

You heard the furious typing of his computer before another almost sob of relief. "You're on Rosewood Avenue... How the hell did you run that far? Okay, you're going to walk in the opposite direction of the sushi place until you reach a road called Miller Road, got that?" He waited for a verbal noise of agreement before continuing, "Once you get there, turn left and keep walking straight until you get to a steakhouse. I'll meet you half way, if you don't see me there, don't move unless you have to. Got it?" He asked firmly, with a small hint of desperation in his tone.

You rubbed your face as you mentally repeated the directions to yourself. "Yeah.. Yeah.. I got it." You began to walk along the sidewalks, your shoulders beginning to tremble from the water induced shivers trailing up and down your spine.

"..(Y/n)?"

"Yeah?"

"I lov-"

Your phone died..

Pulling the device away from your head, you pressed the buttons a few times before groaning and shoving it into your pockets as you began to walk.

Your mind was blurry but also hyper aware along the walk to the road where Clay told you to go. 'What was he going to say? If... He doesn't hate me... was he going to say- No.. no. He hadn't said that line in over a few months now.. No reason why he would say it now..' You mentally scolded yourself.

The rain didn't seem to be too keen on letting up as you walked through large rippling puddles. Your clothes were soaked, your hair completely drenched and you were pretty sure you were gonna need to buy a new phone with how much your current one was getting waterlogged..

You rose your arm to shield your face from the onslaught of water that a car had caused by driving through a large puddle before running your hand down your face.

Part of you was still a bit.. angry... at Clay... He had ignored you for so long and wanted nothing to do with you.. Then suddenly you spill hot coffee on yourself and then boom, you have the man more focused than when he has a good speed run seed. What about all those times you were begging him to come to bed, or at least eat dinner at the table with you? Did you only matter when you were in pain?

Biting your lip, you shook off the thought as you looked up again to see the steakhouse that you were directed to go to, the signs glowingly and people shuffling in and out through the doors...

Then there was another man, standing under a large black umbrella wearing a damp lime green hoodie...

Only you'd recognize that face anywhere where others wouldn't.. Standing in the street lights perfectly was your boyfriend, Clay.

Your heart trembled but also melted slightly upon seeing that he wasn't paying attention to his screen anymore. You. He was focused on finding you...

As you began to walk closer, you saw him lift his head and stare at you for a few seconds before dropping the umbrella and lunge forward to wrap you in a loving embrace. "I'm sorry.." Was the first thing he whispered, his voice almost as hoarse as yours. "I know.. that a simple apology will never excuse what I put you through... You cared for me, and even after a stupidly ignored you... You still didn't leave, or get angry. I don't deserve you, I know that, and you have every right to be upset, angry or whatever you're feeling right now.. Please, it doesn't matter how long it takes... Just let me make it up to you and let me prove myself worthy of your love again.."

Your lips parted in surprise as you stared at him, the streetlight poorly capturing his normal beauty, but still doing it well enough that you felt your heart soar. "Clay..." Your eyes traced his features, his puffy and reddened eyes and his cheeks stained with tear tracks, "You have a lot to work and make up for... I'm not going to forgive you immediately, but I'm not going to leave you.. We can work things out.. Together, okay?"

He eagerly nodded and gently held your face in his hands before pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "I'll break away from video editing and streaming for a while.. So I can focus on repairing things with you.."

You buried your face into the male's sweater, that was beginning to become soaked as well from the rain and you, and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him.

"(Y/n)?"

"Mm..?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Clay."

[bitchin-beskar]

you’re safe in his arms

Rating: M

Warnings: Mentions of death, physical violence, more panic attacks. But also kisses.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: SO IM FEELING A LOT OF THINGS ABOUT THE FINALE. THIS IS ME ATTEMPTING TO FIX WHAT FILONI AND FAVREAU BROKE. ENJOY. (ALSO MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 EPISODE 16: THE RESCUE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

THIS IS A SEQUEL TO A PREVIOUS STORY, YOU CAN READ PART ONE HERE!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!!! I love hearing what you guys think!!!

“Master Skywalker, there are too many of them! What are we going to do?”

You watched in horror as Master Skywalker ignited his lightsaber, the blue blade glowing in the darkened room. You were hidden in one of the vents. You’d gone to the nursery to try and rescue some of the younglings from the blasters of the clones. When you’d seen Master Skywalker, you’d felt relief, hope, only for it to die a violent death as he began to slaughter the younglings right in front of your eyes.

You clasped a hand over your mouth, trying not to scream as he murdered the children one by one, each of them too young to defend themselves. When he struck down the last of them, he paused, and you held your breath as he turned towards the wall where you were hidden. His eyes were a violent, malevolent yellow, red-rimmed and angry as he seemed to pin you with his stare. 

You were growing lightheaded from holding your breath, but you knew if you dared take a breath now it would be your last. He took a step forward, and–

“Wake up, prisoner!”

You jolted upright, scooting backwards until you were pressed tight into the corner of your cell, as far from the guards as you could get. You were panting, chest heaving as you tried to breathe through your lingering panic. There were two stormtroopers in front of you, blasters at the ready. 

“Get up.”

You shakily tried to get to your feet, still off-balance from your vivid nightmare, and apparently you weren’t fast enough, because one of them marched forward and gripped your arm, yanking you to your feet roughly, jerking your shoulder and causing you to cry out. 

“Shut up, prisoner,” one of the troopers sneered, the back of his hand snapping against the skin of your cheek, your head jerking sideways with the force of it. The other trooper jabbed you in the back with the barrel of his blaster, shoving you forward. “Move it. The Moff wants to see you.”

The walk through the corridors of the ship was silent, with the occasional muzzle being shoved into your back as you stumbled along. As you rounded a corner, you watched as Mando stumbled back out of a room, with Moff Gideon furiously attacking him with what looked to be a black lightsaber of all things. You stumbled to a halt, in shock. 

“What the–”

You immediately turned, grabbing the blaster that was still pressed into the small of your back with your bound hands, using it as a club to bash one of the stormtroopers before flipping it around and shooting the other one. The one you bashed tried to get back up but you quickly shot him too, waiting to see if he’d get back up. He didn’t. 

You turned again, just as Mando used his beskar spear to disarm the Moff, the saber flying towards you as he pointed the spear directly at the Moff’s throat. You dropped the blaster, catching the saber in your hands as Mando’s head jerked around to see you standing there, hands cuffed, eyes wide, with two dead troopers behind you. 

“The kid’s in there,” he mutters, and you immediately dash for the door, needing to see Grogu with your own eyes. He’s perched on a small bunk, his tiny hands cuffed in front of him the same as yours. Tears fill your eyes as you fall to your knees in front of him, hands trembling. You’re afraid to reach for him, the last time he’d seen you, he’d been snatched from your arms, what if he thinks you let him go on purpose–

A soft coo reaches your ears, and you refocus to see Grogu with his little hands outstretched, just like every other time he’s asked to be held. There’s such love and trust in his eyes, it takes your breath away, and immediately you scoop him up into your arms as best you can with your hands still bound. Grogu clutches at the fabric of your shirt, burying his face into your neck with a soft sigh. 

You press your lips firmly against his little head, thanking the Maker that he’s unharmed. You hear footsteps behind you, but you recognize the sound of Mando’s boots. He kneels next to you, and you turn your head towards him, tears finally falling.

He reaches out to cup the back of your neck, pressing his head to yours, the same way he did the last time you saw him. You can feel his fingers trembling on your neck, and his other hand comes up to rest on Grogu’s head, as though reassuring himself that you’re both here and alive. 

“Let’s get you out of these,” he whispers, tugging gently at the cuffs encircling your wrists. You nod, watching as he works a small blade into the locking mechanism, the cuffs popping open only seconds later. He does the same for Grogu, and helps you stand. His hands encircle your arms, and for a moment he just stares at you, before slowly reaching up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle as he wipes away your tears. His palm rests over where you’re sure you’re already developing a bruise, but you refuse to flinch. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, tugging on your arm gently. “The others are on the bridge.”

***

You officially hate Moff Gideon.

It’s an odd realization to have, especially as you’re falling to your knees next to Mando, where he’s laying after taking multiple blaster hits trying to protect Grogu. The others on the bridge are taking care of Gideon, he’s not the one you’re worried about at the moment.

You help Mando sit up, even as Cara is smashing the butt of her rifle into Gideon’s jaw, knocking him down. Your hands flit nervously over Mando’s armour, trying to make sure he’s okay, that he wasn’t shot somewhere that’s only protected by thick layers of fabric. 

His hands grasp yours, stopping your jerking movements. He slowly stands, helping you up as he does so. He bends to grab Grogu, handing him to you as he looks at the security holos. You watch as well, feeling an odd mix of emotions as you watch the figure fighting with a lightsaber. You know that Grogu needs a Jedi to train him, but you can’t help but feel sick at the idea of him being taken from you. 

Mando orders the others to open the doors as you watch the Jedi take down the last of the Dark Troopers. None of them quite seem to understand, so he does it himself, and you move to stand just slightly behind him as the doors slide open, revealing a figure in a black cloak with a green lightsaber clutched in his grasp.

He sheathes his saber and slowly lifts back his hood, and your heart plummets. You know that face. There’s blood rushing in your ears, and all you can hear is the little youngling pleading “Master Skywalker there are too many of them! What are we going to do?” over and over in your head. You don’t realize you’re hyperventilating until your vision is blocked by beskar as Mando moves in front of you. He crowds you back against one of the panels, filling your vision, his hands on your arms, fingers tightening when your breathing doesn’t slow. 

You’re shaking your head before you hear what he’s saying, desperate whispered pleas already falling from your lips. “No, nonono, Grogu can’t go with him, please, you can’t make him go with that man, please Mando, no–”

Mando barks something over his shoulder, but you can’t recognize the words. You do realize that the others are leaving the bridge, but you’re still in fight or flight mode, poised and tense, ready to fight Mando if you have to in order to keep Grogu away from the Skywalkers. 

The panic is overwhelming and the edges of your vision are starting to go dark when Mando manhandles you over to a chair, shoving you down into it and kneeling at your feet. His broad chest is cradled between your thighs, his hands gripping your waist, visor tilted up and trained on your face. You can feel his chest rumbling, and as your hearing slowly returns, you realize he’s speaking to you.

“Breathe mesh’la, just breathe, it’s okay. It’s alright, you’re safe, just breathe, please.” 

Grogu squirms in your lap, pressing his face into your stomach as he tries to calm you down too, his soft coos and whimpers muffled by the fabric of your shirt. 

Mando must see as your breathing starts to slow, because he sighs in relief. His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles on your sides, and he waits for you to speak, knowing that you’ve got to explain why you don’t want Grogu to go with the Jedi, the one you both have been searching for. 

“I can’t trust him, Mando. I just can’t,” you whimper, voice breaking. “H–His father, he was a Jedi once too, b–but he changed, he fell, he became a Sith,” you whisper, as though you’re going to be attacked just for voicing the words. “His father slaughtered children, Mando, I can’t let Grogu go with him. He may be a Jedi now, but what if he falls too? I can’t give my son to that man, please, don’t make me do this.”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you clutch Grogu tighter, and for a moment, there’s only silence, like Mando’s trying to process your words. He finally speaks, and it's the question you’ve been dreading. 

“How do you know?”

You close your eyes tightly, hanging your head. “Because I was there. I was a Jedi padawan. I watched as his father killed younglings in front of my eyes.” 

Your voice is a whisper, and when Mando shifts in front of you, you flinch away, terrified of his reaction. 

“You’re a Jedi?”

His voice is strained, and you let out a small sob. “I was training to be a Jedi when the Purges happened. An old friend told me to run and to never use the Force again, in order to stay alive. The first time I used the Force in over twenty years was when I was trying to get away from the Dark Troopers.” Your breath hitches, tears continuing to escape from beneath your closed eyelids. “I’m sorry.”

His hands leave your waist and you shrink back into your chair, head bowed as soft sobs wrack your frame. You’re curled up on yourself, terrified that Mando’s going to insist Grogu goes with Skywalker anyways, terrified that he’s going to hate you for keeping such a huge secret from him, when suddenly there are warm, soft, bare hands cradling your face.

“Cyar’ika, look at me. Please.” 

You shake your head, eyes staying tightly shut, and Mando sighs. His voice sounds different, and you don’t know why, but before you can ponder on it, he repeats himself.

“Please, cyar’ika. Open your eyes.”

You slowly open your lids, but when you see what’s in front of you, your eyes fly open in shock. It’s Mando in front of you, but–

“Your helmet!” 

Your gasp is loud, a hand flying over your mouth as your eyes slide shut again automatically. “Mando, your helmet, I’m not supposed to–”

“No.”

The single word stops you dead in your tracks. 

“But I want you to look.”

You shake your head again, and this time, when Mando sighs, it sounds almost amused, if slightly exasperated. 

“Cyar’ika, I had to remove my helmet in front of a room full of Imperials in order to find the two of you. I only have one regret.”

“What’s that?”

Your voice is a whisper, and when he speaks again, his voice is just as quiet. “My only regret is that my son and the one I love didn’t get to see me first.”

Well, that sure gets your eyes to open again. 

You stare at the man in front of you in shock. He’s only removed the helmet, but it somehow makes all the difference. His hair is a dark brown, his eyes even darker. He has stubble on his cheeks, a little mustache, and his nose juts out just the tiniest bit. His lips are full and pink, and they look extremely soft. He’s looking at you like you’re the most incredible being in the galaxy, and you feel your cheeks heat under his intense gaze.

Grogu coos loudly, and you’re startled out of your exploration of Mando’s features as the tiny baby in your arms wriggles, trying to get to Mando. He holds his tiny arms out, and Mando leans forward, letting Grogu pat his cheeks, Mando’s eyes slide shut, soaking in the feeling of Grogu’s touch as he does so. You watch the two of them, your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

When Mando finally looks back up at you, you’re sure you must be imagining the dark, heavy look in his eye as his gaze focuses on your lips. You bite the lower one self consciously, and immediately his thumb is there, brushing over the skin of your lip and pulling it from between your teeth.

“Can I kiss you, cyar’ika?”

His question is whispered, and your response is equally hushed. 

“Yes.”

He leans up, at the same time as he guides your head down, and he presses his lips to yours. Eyes fluttering shut, you whimper as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, tongue soothing over where you were gnawing at it. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, keeping you pressed against him as he kisses you thoroughly. You’re running out of air, but this is the one time you don’t mind, because if he didn’t keep kissing you, you weren’t sure you were going to survive. 

His tongue darts into your mouth, gently brushing against your own, and you whimper quietly. For someone who’s been under a helmet their whole life, he’s surprisingly talented, although you don’t exactly have a lot of experience to compare it to. 

When he pulls away, you moan quietly at the loss. “Mando–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Din. Call me Din.” 

You open your eyes, staring straight into his as he gives you this intimate piece of him, this secret he carries close to his chest. You cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch, eyes soft as he watches you.

“Din.” 

He sighs as you say his name, turning his head and pressing a kiss to your palm. You’re mesmerized by him, and you pray that if this is a dream, you never wake up. 

“What did you say to me before, on Tython?”

It’s a question that’s been bugging you ever since, desperate to know what he whispered to you in his native tongue when he thought one or both of you was going to die. 

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen, your heart fluttering as he utters those three little words. 

“I didn’t want to die without telling you, cyar’ika. But I do. I love you.”

You can’t resist anymore, and you lean forward to kiss him again. He lets you lead, groaning when you shyly press your tongue to the seam of his lips. He lets you in, and you fall even deeper in love with this man, this beautiful, breathtaking man, who would tear the galaxy apart to find you.

“Please, don’t give Grogu to that man, Din. I haven’t used the Force in years, but I don’t trust Skywalker. I’m willing to try and learn again, for him.” You look down at Grogu, who’s looking up at you with his big dark eyes, a sweet smile on his little face. 

“I trust you more than I would ever trust anyone else, cyar’ika.”

You feel a soft fluttering sensation that you recognize as hope. 

“He can stay with us?”

“He can stay.”

You fall forward, throwing one arm around Din’s shoulders as you hug him tightly, Grogu cradled between the two of you. As Din’s own arms come up to wrap around you, you sigh. You’re safe in his arms.

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[strangeradventuresofp]

nervous (five x reader)

requested by : @pixiefella​  -   Heyo! It’s me again hshshs. So here’s my idea: five x male reader, where the reader is autistic and stims a lot (stimming is something autistic people do to relay emotions and relieve pressure and such hdhdh) and maybe Diego says something or makes fun of him and five goes into defense mode?

A/N : hihi thanks for waiting so long for me to complete this im sorry it took me so long hhhhh but i hope you like it!! gender of reader is not specified / referred to as 'they/them/partner' i hope thats okay!!<33 also au where five didn’t time travel and they’re all about 20 years old i guess lol xo p

“Five, are you sure your family even want to meet me? You said yourself that they’re busy people, a-and I don’t wanna bother them or-”

“Y/N, stop.” Your boyfriend placed his hand on your cheek gently, smiling as his eyes met yours. “You don’t have to be so nervous, I’m right here with you, okay?” He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently in an attempt to comfort you, which you were grateful for, and you nodded as he pushed the gate of the academy open, leading you up the concrete steps so the two of you were face to face with the large door. Anxiety flooded your body, your palms beginning to get sweaty. Five pressed a consoling kiss to your cheek before wrapping his fingers around the door handle, and thrusting open the door.

~~~

The first time you had met Five, you were nervous to even look at him, in case he got the wrong idea. It was in Griddy’s, the doughnut shop a few blocks away from the Umbrella Academy. He entered in a blue blazer and shorts, with long socks that ended just before his knees. Piercing eyes bored into yours as he made his way up to the counter, where you were sat. You couldn't help but gawk at him as he sat down, overwhelmed with how confident he carried himself. He tensed and untensed his jaw and you turned back to your coffee, swirling it around in the cup. You began to rock back and forth slowly, nervously as you felt his eyes on you again. When you tugged at the ends of your hair, he frowned.

"Are you okay?" His voice was soft and gentle, hardly how you had expected it to be and you nodded, pulling your hair harder a few more times before returning to soft tugs. "Black coffee, huh? Good choice. It's my favorite." A kind smile took over his lips and you felt your nervousness dissipate a little, the rocking slowing down, the tugs getting gentler.

"Mine t-too. I like the bitter taste. It's simple." He smiled wider and a slight smile found its way to your lips in return.

"What's your name?"

"Y/N."

"That's a nice name. I'm Five."

The two of you sat in a content silence as you sipped at your coffees, not having to speak to enjoy each others company. It meant a lot that he didn't even know you and he had tried to make you feel more comfortable and less nervous.

Griddy's became a weekly thing, and then eventually an every other day thing until he finally asked you to be with him and, of course, you said yes. You had never been so comfortable around anyone and it warmed your heart that he took a chance on a random person in a doughnut shop and it worked in your favor.

~~~

Upon stepping into the academy where your boyfriend had grown up, you were instantly taken aback at the sight. It all seemed so incredible and big, and posh. You were immediately overwhelmed, you couldn't deny.

Five slipped his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers in consolation. Your free hand began flapping by your side, a couple whimpers escaping your lips when your anxiety caught up with you. Slowly, you were led into the living room, giving you an oppurtunity to scout out your surroundings to try and familiarise yourself with the way that it looked while your hands stopped moving.

When you walked in, five people were sat, spread out among the two couches and numerous sitting chairs. One of the girls sat down was very pretty, with ringlets stuck in her caramel hair. She gave you a dazzling smile and you felt like bowing to her, an aura of regality surrounding her. The other girl was also pretty, but hardly seemed as confident in herself as the other did. Her dark hair covered a lot of her face and her lips turned up into a shy smile when she saw you.

There were three boys. One was extremely well built, his body smothered in a large coat that swallowed him up completely. He gave you an awkward nod, as if he was confused as to why he was there. Another smiled wonderfully at you, raising a hand in her direction that said 'Hello'. His hair seemed matted he wore an outdated leather skirt and a jacket over the top of his bare chest. A glass containing some sort of alcohol occupied his other hand. The final boy intimdated you the most. He gave you no smile, no nod, no sense of acknowledgement. The only reason you knew that he knew you were there, was that his eyes didn't leave your body. His eyes were dark and his outfit consisted of many knives strapped to his body.

"Everybody, this is Y/N, my partner." All apart from knife boy said a hello or hi as Five introduced you. "Y/N, this is Allison, Vanya, Luther, Klaus and Diego." He gestured to each of his siblings when calling their names, the majority giving you a little wave when you smiled politely.

Unfortunately, how polite you tried to be couldn't hide your nervousness. Inevitably, your anxiety bubbled over and one of your hands flapped while the other pulled at your hair.

"What's wrong with them?" Diego snickered and Five's eyes instantly filled with murderous intent. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder.

"Y/N, dear. Would you please go and find me a new pair of socks? Mine are wet from stepping in a puddle on the way here." His eyes were gentle when he looked at you and he smiled softly. "Bedrooms are upstairs, love." As soon as he heard your footsteps reach the top of the stairs, his eyes turned dark again and his head snapped towards his siblings.

"Alright, shitstain." His finger pointed firm towards Diego. "If you even dare to say a word about Y/N again, I will personally see to it that a bullet is put through your thick skull. And if you don't like that idea, I will quite happily murder you in the worst way imaginable." Five's face was serious, his fists clenched by his sides.

"Now, when they walk back in, you are going to apologise and we're gonna forget this ever happened."

"What if I don't?" Diego asked, a smirk on his lips. His face quickly fell to one of shock as a flash of blue light appeared in front of him, a sharp object grazing against the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Oh, you will." A maniacal smirk crept onto Five's face, one which Diego found a little worrying. He would never actually hurt his siblings; this was just to warn him and the others that he would do anything to protect you and wouldn't tolerate anyone making fun of you. And it worked, they all looked nervous, on the edge of their seats and not in a good way. Another blue flash of light appeared as your footsteps echoed down the wooden steps, the clang of a knife hitting the floor creating a silence until you reentered.

"Thank you, angel." Five smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, taking the balled up socks from your fingers and sitting down, beginning to take off his shoes and socks, replacing the old with the new. His socks weren't even wet, but the time away gave him an oppurtunity to threaten Diego for laughing at you and it gave you an oppurtunity to calm down a little.

Your eyes stared at your feet and you picked your fingers anxiously. Five, from behind you, looked up at Diego, shooting him a glare that caused Number Two to clear his throat, earning a look from you.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for earlier. It was unfair." You nodded at Diego's words, looking back down. A sigh fell from Klaus' lips and Allison cleared her throat quietly.

"So, how did you two meet?" Vanya gave you a comforting smile when she asked the question and you and Five took it in turns to tell parts of the story. Gradually, you got more and more comfortable and by the end of the day, you were good friends with all of them, even Diego. You admired his superhero complex despite everyone else in the room hating it with a passion. Five watched you the entire time, a smile on his face.

Now, the two of you were walking to your home. One of Five's jackets was hung over your shoulders and his fingers were intertwined with yours. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence and you often felt his eyes on you. When you caught sight of his face, a content smile was on his lips. When you pulled up to your door, you smiled at him, and he smiled back.

"Thank you for today. I know how scared you were to meet my family, but you did it anyway. So, thank you, Y/N." His eyes were sincere and you hugged him gently.

"I loved it. I hope I can see them again some time." Five smiled wider at your words, cupping your cheek as he pressed his lips to yours. He felt you smile against his lips and you pulled away after a few minutes.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Five."

my masterlist

[24-guy]

I spent 2 hours on writing notes from the prison podcast stream.

Now I don’t know what to do with them, so I’m putting them here. 

No need to read them, there is just some interesting stuff I noticed, things like tones and how many times somethings are brought up. 

if you do, though, I apologize  for spelling errors. 

start stream

techno "did the calculations" on how long it would take to mine obsidian with the amount of mining fatigue they had. we knoe this is true.

dream has been writing, it is the only thing hes been able to do with the limited items he has. its his "diary"

techno teases over fanfics on wattpad

"the only thing ive written is my diary" do the revive books not count, then? or what is in the revive books that isnt writing?

techno focuses on that nobody is watching - dream doesnt comment on it - dream doesnt know about the voices?

techno is supposed to break dream out, but he hasnt got many ideas "ill get to it later"

techno enjoys prison - sees it as a vacation

techno has an optimistic outlook.

go with the flow

dream sees harming himself as exhillerating techno disaprooves

dream tells techno quackity has been torturing him everyday. techno is only surprised by the every day part

dream mentions the revive book techno remembers being told about that asks "yeah you can bring people back from the dead. yeah so how do you do that" - curious tone, seems genuinely interested for innocent meanings dream responds " i have.. the knowledge and then i get a book and then i burn it" - hesitant at first, then vague but seemingly honest reponse

techno asks what the knowledge is, incantation/password/expelliarmus dream says "something like that" slowly, then quickly says he doesnt know and that he "doesnt know how schlatt had it" - going away from the topic original book - there are more than one it is a book is what youre saying - t well... i mean, it was a book that i memorised and that now i can recreate - d techno tries again to get the knowledge he wants to revive people dream doesnt want to tell techno because he wouldnt be the only one who knew techno tries to bargain saying that if dream died, techno coulld bring him bacl dream knows they wont kill him because he can revive people

dream says no, techno says "you forgot how to write it down didnt you dream says he didnt, that he did it recently, techno repeats again that dream forgot brings up wattpad again. dream says he wrote it down for tommy. he doesnt mention wilbur to techno. bring up the homeless situaation prison is dreams house cell is boiling apparently makes a joke about cali rent prices

nobody visited the cell "we stopped anarcy" "when we get out of here" no though ahead going into this situation (techno) "just as far as i need to" dream doesnt know what techno means by stream schedule, techno jokes about dream's lack of schedual techno usually trains always looking for new combat, reasearching constant arms race no idea when a government will arise or opressing people is always prepared has a good amount of gear he also plays golf somewhere offers a game with dream no way to describe it somewhere farther than his house

dream asks about tommy techno hasnt seen him canonically, only knows he stole acouple months ago - as far as he tells dream

dream asks about carl carl is doing well

dream asks about the family its doing good, apparently, new foxes, got steve who will break him out dream writes about steve "i will write evrrything down because its hard to remember" another fanfic joke

dream asks whos feeding them they feed themselves its probably fine

milld break for 4 wall break

gist or jist

prison podcast offers, agrees that is all this is

technical difficulties

podcast bros

eating potato

dream offers his thoughts on what would happen of he tried to revive somebody who is alive two technoblades human meat sheild

dream wants to try no death first what could go wrong nothing else to do

techno house is man vs nature conflict floor has ants floof brings ants spilled pet food dream has a revivebook techno tries to read it first hit with book a small wait throw into lava DreamXD joins broke the table fixed table a god dream "cloned himsef" god looks exactly like dream feels like a question to ask earlier dream summoned dreamxd ask for wish ask for bell dream gets mad because no escape dreamxd leaves sellout timer goes off techno makes money as dream questions his life dream sits in corner hole techno aims to be annoying we count channel members for a bit

dream and techno friend bonding time?

summons dreamxd for reviving nobody dream writes this in his diary as techno rings bell tries again, it doesnt work creative mode is a known thing by mortals they know how deadly it is

warden on vacation

techno hasnt written anything he has at least 4 books in his inventory, going from the top 2nd space to the top 5th space. the fourth book is called information and is signed by dream. dream throws a potato in the lava techno asks for the revive book again, this time to see of dreamxd will come back because it is a different person summoning him dream says no

techno needs a bell to sell out for the *brand*, ritual and tradition dream put the bell in church prime no twitch primes for dream - hes a heratic (no contract) dream makes no profit dream has lots of raw potatos for 5-6 months

techno asks if dream has any friends dream says not really, they turned against him techno knows the feeling being betrayed by closest friend happens every tuesday for techno

dream mentions being visited by a few people techno asks if any tried not to torture or kill him dream says yeah like he wasnt expecting the question/(as techno put it) "he hesitated"

sapnap - didnt torture or kill him - but he said if dream got out of there, then he would - techno says hes gotta raise his standards

bad - was the best - treated dream the best - techno says hes a cult leader - dream is surprised so techno tells him about the egg - techno wasnt clear - bad hasnt viseted since 4-5 months ago - techno says even he has friends - egg was attacked - big crossover episode not clear what is going on

techno - last time they saw each other was dooms day - been a while - lot has happened - techno doesnt now whats going on currently on the server - he knows nothing - "people" tell him who died and who came back

tubbo - asks about tubbo - tubbo is chillng - snowchester named - commune - a little sus - dictator - no rushing to conclusions - tubbo has nukes - big crater - a hoby - could be meteor

ranboo - asks about ranboo - ranboo is also chilling - brings up tubo's nukes now

dream points out that techno said he didnt know anyting and then said about a new place, nukes, and a lot more dream doesnt know anything - less than techno

ranboo (again) - dream says he used to visit a while ago and then stopped coming - techno asks "ranboo used to visit?" - ranboo visited "a bit" - probably visited the most - sapnap visited - tommy visited a couple of times - bad visited - and quackity - quackity visited the most, only because hes visited daily

more potatos pog potatos

ranboo (x3) - techno asks how dream knows ranboo - "um... its just a.. long story" - techno replies sarcastically about how they dont have any time to go through it, theyre so busy with the bell - dream "i dont know him very well. he just visited a few times and that was it." - techno just repeats alright, its either bored or thinking - dream "and then i havent seen him since then so thats why i was wondering where hes been, if hes been around" - techno " ah... im not sure. i havent been around fpr like the past couple of months, honestly."

techno went on  atraining montage, played golf

dream asks about the plan to get out mining fatigue 3 doesnt mean they cant break blocks, its just approximately 370 times longer breaking obsidian takes a bit over 4 minutes math = obsidian block gone in 25.7 hours. an alarm break in the right spot break block in toilet elder guardian below the cell techno can take him if techno somehow dies dream brings him back could be out in 2 weeks havent been visited for 2 weeks nothing to lose dream has to break obsidian techno wants to end stream techno came up with idea so dream has to do it dream starts bell ringing for cheerng him on techno sounds happy that dream is doing it voices are mentioned - theyre laughing techno has perfect track of time techno is gonna annoy dream the entire time techno is a lookout there are only 4 books we only see the 4th name floof interrupts momentarily tommy killed a cat because dream liked it 300 dogs in the cell joke

channel member bell dream regrets his life again techo's plan? bell was a better investment dream has 10 bells in e chest techno doesnt techno wanted to go for more so techno could ring bell again

end of stream

[rigelmejo]

random thoughts by mejo

just start reading zhenhun again. just do it. i miss it

just start reading priest’s catalogue of works in alphabetical order since i’ve got a list. why not? i mean it will take forever but... the randomness of selecting a work may stop my natural instinct to be lazy and just read the translation instead...

noticed like - while i am fully capable of now watching shows in chinese only, my laziness means i am very hesitant to UNLESS only the chinese version exists. as a result i had no problem watching killer and healer, word of honor, and now humans in only chinese while those are the only options. but once i see there’s english options (or even better - dual language) i just feel like i’ll ‘miss a detail’ and get less willing to practice. exceptions being stuff like guardian, where whether i turn on the subs or not at this point is random. i need more shows where i just DO NOT care if i follow the plot perfectly - Granting You A Dreamlike Life is an ideal practice show for me because while i COULD watch english subs, its such a hot mess show that its actually more entertaining to me to only watch in chinese because at least then its all a mystery a little bit instead of immediately in my face That Writing (although now that i’m not 5 months into learning but 2 years, the chinese writing may now also be Too Obviously wtf for me to handle). now i kind of want to just watch The Devil Judge in chinese subs... i was watching it and stopped anyway... why not... (this is Too Much but not as much as when I found out my favorite japanese plays are all on bilibili but only subbed in chinese so i got the horrificly challenging idea to watch the japanese i’m learning with the chinese subs i am also learning)

i am currently reading dmbj 1 and just thinking about how like... im too lazy to listen while i read... it means i have to stay focused consistently and keep my place until the audio is done... i know that its the bare minimum but wow am i lazy... audiobook separate is just so much easier... i really Cannot Keep my attention sustained on things without gratuitous breaks god...

relatedly, considering reading Liuli again. I miss the drama, miss the novel I only barely started, have been listening to the audiobook, need to learn more xianxia genre words anyway... and i have the print novel ON my shelf. 

i need a faster reading speed...

also missing the hanshe pingxie fic again and yet again considering reading it. its modern supernatural cases instead of tomb raiding and everyone’s still totally in character and i just... really like that fanfic author a lot. i am 1/3 through the story (like chapter 66). i just... i miss the story... i’ve read more of that author’s writing than i’ve read of priest, it’s familiar and comforting okay ToT

yeah lol i am just totally neglecting clozemaster and japanese.

in my defense, i played radio mode japanese the other day and a LOT came back upon hearing. which told me: 1. i really am an auditory learner WOW ever since i started listening to audio several times before/after reading i have retained info so much better. 2. my japanese comes back quite easy after breaks, still, which is good to know. because it sure does get a lot of breaks. I’m going to start watching Ossan’s love and Criminologist Himura so I wonder how much comes back to me when its not in familiar-flashcard-learning-app-format. japanese study is very much on the backburner rn, i have way too much i want to read in chinese that is being prioritized rn.

still very slowly watching Humans cdrama. Its easy to watch, just as usual my urge to watch shows comes and goes - i binged 16 eps while i had the urge, but now i have no urge to watch shows much and mostly only an urge to read. 

[popculturebuffet]

Green Eggs and Ham: “Train” Review or A Little Better Now (Patreon Review for Emma Fici)

Hello you happy people and all aboard! We’re back on the Green Eggs and Ham Train for a Train themed episode. Train. As you can tell I like trains... admitely I don’t see enough episodes et on them and I don’t buy books or obess on them but I like the idea of a train, the comfort, the use of a mode of travel that was once common but is now simply used on occasion with the dawn of air travel, and it confining our heroes to a smaller space with limited room to move. it’s good stuff. I even tolerae the band train... I mean yes their music is okay at best, but the lyrics.. are wonderfully delightfully insane. Who else would use a garbage bag as a genuine romantic metaphor?

When last we left off things ere a bit ehhhhhhhhhhh: Sam went from delightfully quirky with some issues ot adress to annoying, and Michelle went from kin dof a bitch ot ENTIRELY THAT BITCH. Outside of Guy’s mental breakdown/heatstroke episode involving hallucinations of green eggs and ham, yes that did in fact happen, it wasn’t much to write home about and I worried the series simply had a good PILOT but the series itself wasn’t going to be fun sit through. 

If I was right or I was rilla.. will have to wait till after the cut. But first as always i’d like to thank the person who payed for this episode Emma Fici. Emma is one of my closest friends and one of two patreon patreons. If you’d like a reivew of your choice eveyr month guarnateed, then please hop over to patreon.com/popculturebuffet and back me at the 5 dollar level. You also get access to my exclusive discord where I ocasoinally post about work in progress stuff and tlak to my falns, to pick a short any time I do one and EXCLUSIVE review, as well as helping me hit my stretch goals. So line up, sign up then join me under the cut. 

So we pick up where we left off with Guy hurtling into a lake. Eh I dunno i’ve heard being naked ina  lake is pretty neat. 

All you’d have to do is take off the hat and your there. But Sam saves him wiht the weird train of hats he put at the end of the car for some reason, and our heroes are saved.. but down a vehicle. Oh and Sam’s vehiclular neglgence costs a bunch of fish their home.

And our heroes are without a car and Guys at the end of his rope with Sam.. I mean granted he’s been there since he met the guy but it’s down to like the tiniest thred, not helped by Sam casually stealing his wallet to pay for train tickets depsite Guy , UNDERSTANDABLY, not wanting to hang out with the guy who has stolen with him, gotten him implicate din animal trafficing and dosen’t really respect personal space. Also it’s taken me embarassingly long to remember Micheal Douglas played my boy Hank Pym in the Ant Man and the Wasp films. Seroiusly I don’t know HOW I forgot that, him being aged up and thus unable to do ANY of the things he is constnatly denied credit for in canon (Founding the avengers, being the first ant man.. and the first goliath and the first yellow jacket and the first giant man.. and the only doctor pym...).. but instead the film kept his troubled nature and ego, but removed the domestic abuse (which is something I will not go into but needless to say the comics version went above and beyond to try and make up for that and redeem himself soley because it was the right hting to do) and by making im older still gav ehim a roll as Scott’s mentor. What i’m getting at is I freaking love Hank Pym and I could’ve been making hank pym jokes for several episdoes now. That’s a mistake I itned to recitfy.. right away as Guy looses his suitcase as a result of it and whie he lcaims not to be bothered his voice says otherwise. Eh i’m sure the world can wait for ultron Guy. 

So anyway, Guy reluctantly agrees to the train travel idea and being parked across from Sam on the grounds he has no real other options. Meanwhile the BAD GUYZ.. and i’ve also decided to drop spoilers as the series is two years old, most people reading this have probably seen the series, and it makes analysis rough when I have to dance around spoilers. So yeah the BAD GUYZ aren’t villians.. kind of a dickhead on the blue guys part, but not EVIL. They figure out their going by train it’s a whole thing.

ON the train we run into michelle again...

Yeahhh for the first half she’s as inusfferable as she was the last two episodes and it lead me to believie the rest of the series was going to be constant suffering as she’d be in every episode, likely because they DID get Diane Keaton for this and you don’t waste Diane Keaton. You just don’t. But while they got their money’s worth in having her on screne wise they just..w asted her for the first 2 and a half episodes: Michelle is a judgemental, unpleasnt suffocating bitch and it’s going to take a lot , even if this episode helped, to make me truly like her as a person. 

Case in point her first two scenes this episode are just.. dragging her daughter past a play place uncarring about her feelings because while I DO get she cares about her child’s saftey and is terrified afte rloosing her husband.. it dosen’t EXCUSE her actions. It dosen’t forgive her locking her daughter up constanlty, not talking to her like a human being and oh yeah PUTTING A FUCKING LOCK ON HER SHE CAN CONTROL.  I mean my god I don’t think they INTENDED for her to come off as abusive as she does, and i’ve seen far worse inteitonally and untietionally, but it’s still not remotely plesant. There is a larger issue baked into that the episode brings about, but we’ll get to that. 

And naturally at breakfast.. she procedes to top herself. ONCE AGAIN she treats guy like trash as guy UNDERSTANDABLY didn’t want to talk to her after her previous layers of bullshit which, just as a refresher, involved insulting his invention constnatly (even if it turned out ot be dangerous she did not know that till the last second) then refusing to help a man BAKING in the desert and mocking him to his face. 

So yeah unsuprisingly instead of you know, APOLOGIZING for that episode or anything else she mocks him again and calls him sad. I just.. I get they were trying to have her come off as a jerk and then slowly develop.. but you can’t overdue the jerk part. It has to be juts the right amount and if it is this much there has to be a commpuance. There is none as far as I can tell because god is a spiteful two faced prick. 

So naturally Sam forces the two parties together, and orders green eggs and ham for everyone, except guy who refuses. We do get a really great bit though as EB turns down the idea and we get a tremendous rant from Micheal Douglas as he talks about how a girl in his clash, veyr likely just him, got a rash from tring new things and you shouldn’t and to watch out for the scarlet beetle he’ll steel your ants and try to conquer your planet and is not a guy in a costume but in fact an actual beetle. EB naturally tries it. 

We get a brief interlude with Snerz that’s funny enough: he outright calls his visotrs flunkies, they enter to the song money, and his minon throws dollar bills at their feet. I imagine this is what visitng Mar a Largo is like. They turn up his noses until he mentions getting a chickarffe for his animal crutelty wall. And i’m torn about Snerz. On one hand he can be generally entertaining in his dickery.. but ont he other I do question why he’s in EVERY episode. We don’t NEED him in eveyr one and I feel he’s only in them because Eddie Izzard was expensive so they had to get him as a regular to justify the cost. We really DONT’ need this scene funny as it is and it adds nothing so far. Maybe i’m wrong and these guys end up being important. I don’t know. 

So yeah so far this episode was miserable getting through and I expected it to be another long sit... I was wrong. The second half.. is really damn good and reminded me why I liked this series so much. No really. We get two stories,both really good following one half of each pair teaming up. As for why their split Guy is annoyed with Sam, as well as dosen’t want him letting the chickaraffe out because you know lots of people dosen’t want ot go to jail and leaves to find a quiet place to work on watching paint dry while Michelle tucks a sleeping EB in, her first really truly humanizing moment, which should NOT have taken three episodes but hey, i’ll take it, and goes to find the same.

So starting with Sam and EB, naturally Sam takes all of a minute to let his buddy out and it gets loose on top of the train. EB hears the familiar sound and gives chase and the two meet properly. After Sam covers for his buddy and realizes the creature is asleep in his car safe now, he properly talks to EB and we get a truly magical sequnece: The two talk with Sam whoelheartdly supporting her free spirit and finally giving the girl what she badly needed: someone who treated her not as something to be tied down but you know.. a child who just wants some expression and as she literally lets her hair down, It’s truly adorable and it just has a magical quanitity as they enjoy the beautiful view from the train top. 

Granted this takes at urn later when EB brings up her mom, and Sam.. supports her mom, pointing out she’s just looking out for her.. which she is but in a deeply unehalthy way and I don’t like the show just.. brushing over Michelle’s terrible actions because “she’s her mom”. But it’s also hard to tell if they are: Sam’s mom left him as we’ll find out, so he likely colors his memories of her rosey and simply envys EB still HAVING hers. It’s not BAD stuff but I don’t like a work saying “You should love your family just beacause your related”. Instead of because they lovea nd support you and if they dont’ love you or treat you remotely well or don’t give an ass about you fuck them. Thankfully I DO love my family and have no issues with them, my immediate family at least, but i’ve had friens with downright abusive or neglectful parents. It’s not that black and white. Ducktales also hammered in the family theme but was transparent in how it can me messy, harm each other and that it took true love and consideratoin for it to work at it’s core. 

It’s still not a terrible scene and what comes next is neat as earlier it was shown the train has loops, because Seussworld, and now that’s a problem because their on top of it. Michelle’s jail braclet thing ends up coming in handy the first loop, as while she can’t unstick it means she and sam can suririvie it. They do get it loose, turns out the password was indeed password, because of course, and they end up narrowly suriving a roller coaster bit of track, with the help of MR. Jenkins who I can finally name because EB names her in the next scene. Understanding her need for a pet, Sam deputizes her, and gets her back in bed in time for the next plot. 

Speaking of which winding back a bit as these two go back and forth, Guy goes through two rather hilarious cars: First a bath car that has a bubsby berkely style water number and then a model train car.. with the train on the track showing guy watching guy watchin gthe train etc. 

It’s great. Guy ends up finding the quiet car.. and Michelle. And in her first scene of acting like a human being and not if julie powers was a soccer mom, Michelle, while standosfish as usual, not only unites with guy to shush a loud guy in the car, but is genuinely apricative when Guy helps her get her place back, she was doing some literal bean counting. 

The two genuinely hit it off, first with some adorable silent bits and then by talking, with Michelle appreciating his now safer job and warming up to him. Keaton and Douglas have GENUINE chemestry and it annoys me itt took the series this long to use that instead of wasting Diane Keaton on being 

It’s really great stuff and i’m actually rooting for the two.. once she gets her shit together obviously. Guy does make the mistake of lying abotu knowing about the chikcaraffe.

This ends up being bad as he finds out EB knows the next day and after she leaves the car RIGHTFULLY tears the fuck into same for getting him accused of crime, stealing from him and now puttin ghim in a precarious situation. While Guy DID lie, he idd so well meaningly and trying to impress someone whose ineherntly judgmeental. Douglas also does REALY well in the scene, calling sam out but it dosen’t feel cruel.. it’s justified. While guy is miserable and does need to work on himself.. Sam also needs to work on himself and is putting guy in serious danger just by forcing him into his animal smuggling scheme. 

So Guy leaves.. and naturally given the unvierse hate shim runs into the BAD GUYZ, who aren’t much better. No really they refuse to belieive guy might be innocent, use excessive force on everyone. They have better GOALS than sam but I woudln’t really call them good people. Smash to black and we’re out. 

Final Thoughts:  This one was better. As I said the first half or rather third drags slightly but once we get to the two seperate plotlines it’s REALLY damn good stuff and reminded me what the series was capable of in character in creativity. Hopefully it keeps this up

Next Time on the Blog: We return to mewni for the penultimate chapter of season 3 as Moon and Eclipsa have some fundemtnal disgareemnts on how to handle Meteora that wind up costing both dearly. 

See you at the next rainbow

[sincerelyreidburke]

Boy Scout Dex drabble time!!!!!! (S/o @bitsfordays for talking this through with me like 10 days ago and creating this concept in my head)

Anyway, CCU, Nursey goes home with Dex for senior-year Thanksgiving, let’s have a field day.

//

It’s not that Derek is scared of Will’s parents.

After all, he’s met them before. He’s pretty sure the first time he met them, at least distantly, was Family Weekend freshman year. They know who he is, and they’ve always been nice to him. When he first met Will, he was sure that he came from the type of family who would cast judgement on him without knowing anything about him, based only on the way he looks. He’s known plenty of those types of people— at Andover, back home in New York, even at Samwell. It’s a part of life. He was sure that Will came from that type of environment.

But he was wrong. Three years later, it turns out, there are a lot of things about Will he was wrong about.

And so here he is, spending Thanksgiving with the Poindexters in Maine.

He should be okay. He shouldn’t be intimidated. After all, he isn’t scared of them. They’re kind people, and he knows it full well. They were the ones who extended the invitation, who wanted him here, to share their family holiday with them.

It’s just… the way they invited him, as Will’s friend, and what he actually is to Will, these days, are two different things.

It’s okay, though. Derek knows how to stay firmly closeted around people who can’t know. This is nothing new. It doesn’t make it easy, but at least he knows how to do it.

The point is: he’s not afraid of Will’s parents. But he does sort of care an awful lot about what they think of him.

Not that he’d admit it. At least, not to them, or to Will, or to anyone, really— except maybe Chowder, a few drinks in at a kegster, spouting off anything and everything about all of his love for Will and hope for their future. But he’s not so sure that telling Will he’s been anxious for days about making the right impression on his potential future in-laws (God, he hopes) would be the best idea. He’ll tell him later, maybe.

He has to get through this Thanksgiving break first.

So when Mrs. Poindexter is giving him the tour of the house upon his first arrival, he’s on high alert.

Chill Mode is a hundred percent activated; it’s in overdrive, in fact. He trails her, a short lady with strawberry blond hair who he’s pretty sure is simultaneously the sweetest thing ever and also the most likely person to kick somebody’s ass given the opportunity. She brings him to the bedroom he’ll be staying in, to drop his stuff— Will’s room, the one he used to share with his brother; there are still two beds, Mrs. Poindexter explains, because Drew only moved out a few years ago, which works out just great for you two, doesn’t it?

(Ha. Derek wonders if he can get away with some funny business once the bedroom door is shut tonight. He’s not sure he wants to test the waters with Will’s parents, but then again, if he was extra careful to keep Will quiet…)

Not the point, not the point. Derek is chill. He’s doing the tour of Will’s childhood home, the space he grew up in, trying to see all the imprints of his memory in the worn floorboards and the old furniture. “You have a lovely home,” he tells Mrs. Poindexter in the living room. She smiles at him like this is the best thing he could’ve said.

“Well, thank you, Derek,” she replies, gracious and kind. “It’s nothing all too fancy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Derek shrugs, flashing an effortless smile, and replies, “Fancy is overrated.”

Mrs. Poindexter chuckles. Over his mother’s shoulder, Derek watches Will as his face washes with relief. Derek knows what he’s thinking. This is going well.

Derek hunts for more things to compliment, and his eyes land on a series of photos on the wall next to the fireplace. “Oh!” he says, with a smile, as he steps towards them. One of the pictures features Will in a cap and gown, in what Derek recognizes as the front yard of this very house. “Will, was this your graduation?”

Will nods, and so does Mrs. Poindexter. “It was a beautiful day,” she remarks. “And look at the weigela in bloom right behind him; aren’t they nice?”

Derek nods like he has any idea what plant she’s talking about. There’s a big pink bush over Graduation Will’s left shoulder, so he’s guessing it’s that. “They’re great.”

“We’ll need another one soon,” Mrs. Poindexter hums, with a smile, and then puts her hands up in a frame shape like she’s imagining just where it’ll go on her wall. “When you boys finish this year.”

“God, Ma,” Will mumbles, with a smile that might be real or might be forced. “Not so fast. We’ve still got over half a year.”

Mrs. Poindexter laughs. “I know,” she replies. “I’m just teasing. But it’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it?”

Derek catches Will’s eye, and answers for both of them. “Quicker than anything.” He pauses, smiles at him. “But it’s been a good run.”

Will smiles back, just a tiny bit, and then looks back at the pictures as if they aren’t on the wall in his own living room in the house he lives in. Derek follows suit, and this time, he catches sight of one below the graduation one, of Will with just his parents in some kind of banquet hall.

Derek squints at the picture. He does a double take.

What is Will wearing?

It’s…… he’s in some kind of a sailor outfit. It’s white on the top and bottom, with a hat and a dark necktie and a bunch of pins or maybe patches near the collar. His parents are in regular dressed-up clothes, his dad in a suit and his mom in a dress, and they both look as proud as can be.

Derek looks between picture-Dex and the Dex next to him, who is in distinctly non-sailor clothing, just a trademark flannel and jeans. Dex looks younger in the photo, but not that young. It’s from high school, for sure.

“Will,” he says slowly. “Is there a story behind this picture?”

Will looks where he’s looking, and then pauses to look right at Derek, like he’s trying to figure out if Derek is about to make fun of him. During his silence, Mrs. Poindexter chimes in. “Oh, that one!” She smiles huge, the trademark of a proud mother. “That was his Quartermaster ceremony.”

Derek looks back at the picture. Steadily, the joy of this fascinating new discovery about the man he’s been in love with for 2+ years starts to register. There is a story behind this picture. And he thinks he’s about to hear it. “Quartermaster?”

Will lets out a gentle sigh, tucking his hands into his pockets, and says, kind of unceremoniously, “I was a Boy Scout.”

This, Derek was aware of. Will occasionally makes cracks about being prepared or lets an offhanded comment loose about his scouting days. But Derek hasn’t ever heard a word about quartermasters, whatever they are. And he definitely hasn’t seen this sailor outfit.

He looks at the picture. Will looks cute. Cute enough that he’s feeling some type of way about it. His hair is a little long— at least, long for Dex; it’s still short in general— and it’s sideswept a little under his hat, from which his ears stick out underneath. His necktie is just a little crooked to one side. Even his shoes are white.

He looks like some kind of old-timey boat guy. And Derek is kind of thinking he needs to show the group chat immediately.

“I feel like you should tell me more,” he replies, grinning up at Will.

Mrs. Poindexter nudges Will from the other side. “Oh, darling, you should,” she says. “You’ve never told Derek about scouting?”

“Oh, I’ve told him,” Will replies, but his tone is fully conscious of the fact that she’s going to have him tell Derek again, and Derek has literally never been more pleased with a situation.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the picture, and saves it for later.

For now, he’s going to hear this story.

BONUS:

Samwell Men’s Hockey 2017-18

Nursey sent a photo to the group

Nursey: everybody

Nursey: PLEASE look at my boyfriend

Nursey: i am a.) dying, and b.) also in love

Dex disliked a photo

Dex: Stop being corny on main

Chowder loved a photo

Chowder: omg!!!!!!!!!!!

Chowder: dex where is that from!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ford loved a photo

Ford: DEX WERE YOU IN ANYTHING GOES?

Dex: Looooool, no. Sea Scouts.

Dex: Like Boy Scouts but w/ sailing.

Tango emphasized a photo

Tango: tahts so cool???

Chowder: dex how come i never knew this!!!!!!!!!!!

Nursey: to be fair i also didn’t know this until like 20 minutes ago

Nursey: lol

Hops: Omg you look like sailor moon!

Dex: I wish I knew what that meant

Nursey: hops you’re my hero

Hops: Thanks nursey!

Hops: :D

Nursey: guys i can’t even

Nursey: he looks so cute

Ford: This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.

Bully: nothing but respect for MY captain

Nursey: OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN

Chowder: sailor dex sailor dex sailor dex!!!!!!!!!

Ford: Brb changing group chat photo

Nursey: ily ford

Chowder: we should put this on shirts!!!!

Louis: Dexy the sailor man

Dex: Derek, Im going to blcok you

Nursey: love you bby

Dex: GROSS

Rhodey: is group chat flirting a fine

Bully: It should be