#just got to thinking the other night. Man. itchy doesn't do anything. it should be gone.

[neverchecking]

NSFW Alphabet- Legend Edition

Okay, so the Ravio ficlet is fighting me tooth and nail rn but I offer this instead @lovanmari @angry-trashcan @wayfayrr

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Honestly, a solid 7.8/10. Like, he has a general idea of what he's doing, but still needs some instruction every now and again. But he's the best at massages. You didn't hear it from me, but if you flutter your lashes and ask really nicely, he'll be at your mercy for whatever your heart desires <3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Look...This is one Link that I can safely say it's not his freaking hands. It's his fingers. He loves what their capable off, both with a weapon and without. Especially when it comes to taking apart his lover over and over again. Just to see those sweet expressions, just to hear those orgasmic noises, just to experience pure bliss in taking his partner apart at the seams.

On his partner? I could lie to you guys and say he doesn't have one. Or I can tell you about how he drools over a good set of cheeks. (not face cheeks). He loves watching his lover's ass just bounce and ripple with every smack he lays against it. Even better when he wears his rings and leaves a pretty little welt behind as a reminder of him <3

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Oh he's loves backshots. You know why? Because he gets to cum all over his lover's ass and watch it drip around the curve. And he's got thick cum, I just know it. I just know it's thick and the perfect consistency to drip down in perfect little rivulets down your ass then your thighs.

Don't get him wrong, he also loves cumming deep inside of you, only to then finger it back inside your dirty little whole.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is so open to a threesome with Ravio. I HAD TO GET THIS OUT THERE I'M SORRY-

Should his lover bring it up, because he'd rather drown himself than do it himself, he would agree to a threesome with the merchant faster than his lover could blink.

Is totally open to fucking into his lover while Ravio fucks him from behind. That's the thought of the night, your welcome :)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I'd say he's one of the more experienced(?) Links out of the bunch? I think he went on a bit of a spiral after Marin and just took every lay he could get to get his mind off her. Little bit of a slut tbh-

That's okay, he stops when he meets you <3 Then he's your slut <3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Ooh so many. He likes them all, but obviously anything that gives him access to your ass. Doggy style has a place in his heart for so many reasons. One) He can smack and play with your ass whenever he wants. Two) He can bend over your back and fondle your chest and pull at your nipples whenever he wants. Three) He can mark up your back to his hearts content without worrying about the others seeing the marks.

10/10 position in his humble (Correct) opinion.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Have you met this man? Him goofy?

Probably fnofnbf. Drops a snide/sarcastic remark just to get his lover's mind off the intrustion entering their body (I hate myself <3). Anything to get them to smile up at him with that dazzling smile.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

HFIOHFF I WAS WAITING FOR THIS ONE. No. Carpets do not match drapes. In fact, drapes are strawberry blond and carpet is PINK. His dick hair is pink. sorry to burst y'alls bubbles. Not even a little. He is practically barbie bushed. But it's well groomed! Trimmed and orderly because it it's not it gets itchy and makes him cranky.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Oh, he just wants to please his partner. If they want intimacy, he's giving them intimacy. He'll be the most romantic partner his lover has ever seen. Or, if they would rather him spit in their mouth and slap them around a bit, he's doing that too. Maybe they just want him to call them his 'Perfect little whore.' to get that perfect mix of both praise and degradation. He's doing it all. <3

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Does it a surprising amount. Now, HEAR ME OUT- don't leave yet. He's got a crazy high Libido. One would even say it's comparable to a rabbit's. Either way he's constantly going and going and going. And his partner needs a break. So if he has to hump his hand to the thought of them, then so be it. He's willing to give them a break, if only to know he can go twice as hard the second he get's his hands on them again.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Goddess above where does one begin-

Huge corruption kink, breeding kink, loves to tie his lover up, totally into temperature play, loves marking up his lover with welts and bite marks, cockwarming, spanking, degradation, praise, brat taming, predator/prey play (I'll let you decide who's who in that scenario).

He's open to exploration and will try anything at least once. Anything his lover wants <3

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Wants total privacy. Look, I know I said he'll try anything at least once, but if it's something huge he needs to be alone with his lover with the amount of vulnerability he's gonna show. If exhibitionism is the thing he's trying, he's going to need a lot of convincing and you're gonna need to start slow. Maybe not locking the door one time or leaving a window open. Things like that.

Just take things slow and he'll open up to other locations. Number one is still his house though. Ravio can join go take a walk after being (s)exiled.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Oh anything. Like I said, fucking like rabbits. You breath in his general direction and he's sweating, doing the good ol' horny grip on his pants and thighs and praying you don't notice. Has to take a walk after that. Maybe settle behind a tree for a solid tug-and-rub.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Honestly? Probably absolutely against watersports. Idk i just can't see him being into it no matter what. Gives him the absolute biggest ick.

(loves making his lover squirt if they're capable of doing so though)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he prefers receiving. He's absolutely fantastic at giving, like holy shit give this man a medal. But I think he prefers watching your eyes water as you try to take him all in one good. Loves feeling your throat constrict around him. And if you fondle/ finger yourself while doing so, looking up at him through your lashes?

He'll fuck your face. And he won't be nice with it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I'm sure the rabbit jokes are getting old at this point, but you need to understand how important that side of him is to me.

Anyway, absolutely fast and rough. Jackhammers into his lover, absolutely scrambles their brain because just listening to them babble is so hot to him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them. Will do them every chance he gets. He is so down for a quickie and he's good at them. He's rocking your little world with the ten minutes he has.

Since you have to be quick, he can't spill all over your ass, so this little bastard obviously has to cum inside :) And then he expects you to hold a straight face while dripping his cum :)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I said, down to try anything at least once, but he may have to warm up to the idea. Just take it slow, baby steps, and let him warm up to the idea. Let him take the lead. He'll do anything you want after that <3

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

...OKAY- I WON'T SAY IT BUT KNOW I'M THINKING IT.

He has stamina for DAYS. Can't stop when he gets going. Like he gets straight up sexdrunk. Pussydrunk/Dickdrunk idk (I read the term in a Leon Kennedy x Reader fic and that's now how I'm describing all of the Links thanks) He's that. He's just so into it that he cannot stop. Your gonna have to stop him and pull him away man.

Although, you don't have to <33

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Absolutely uses toys. He sees them as a partner in crime rather than the enemy (As he should) and uses all sorts just to see what happens because of it. Remember that temp. play thing I mentioned? Loves using different tools, running them along your skin just to hear you cry out or jut up into him, shivering.

Also, probably loves plugs with a little tail on the end. A bunny tail-SORRY YOU HAD TO KNOW THAT WAS COMING-

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loves to tease. He is absolutely loves making you beg for him. Loves feeling you make a mess all over yourself, and by consequence himself, only to pull away at the very last second. Actually. now that I think about it, he's so into edging. And the second your on the precipice, he'll push you over that ledge, but instead of staying with you and carrying you through that high, he's ruining your orgasm and laughing in your face.

Only to do it all over again.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not overly loud...unless your sucking him off and playing with his balls. He's just a mess. I mean, he's crying out, whining, whimpering your name. Just broken. A broken little man.

When he's hitting it from the back though, it's not so much noises, but words. Legend has a FILTHY fucking mouth. Like get this man a bar of soap because the words he utters? Pure filth hidden in the perfect little tone, meant to make you shatter underneath of him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Absolutely loves dumbifying his lover. Loves just turning them into the perfect, mindless little toy for him to use. Their mindless little cries as he just destroys them? Drive him up the wall. Their sinful whimpers as they reach for him, pulling him as close as possible as he carves his place into them?

Fuck, he's going feral just thinking about it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's packing an average six inches, seven when hard. Average girth as well. You know what's not average about him though? He's got the best curve to his dick. And it's all natural. It hits the perfect spots every time, no matter the position. And, when he puts his mind to it, he can make it feel thirteen times better. He's brushing against those spots without really trying anyway, but now he's hitting them, dead on, every single thrust.

And he's got nice balls. Suck 'em a little. He'll cry. In a good way though. :)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. There is never a moment he's not down to do that devil's tango. He just hides it well. He has the trauma to have a damn good poker face and uses it all the time. He can't have all his thoughts on full display.

You know...Thoughts on bending you over his knee and just smacking those cheeks of yours, turning them a cherry red and watching the flesh ripple. Of making you cry and cling to him, begging him to stop while also pleading with him to do no such thing. Yk. Casual things.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Doesn't sleep normally let alone when his lover is displaying such vulnerability in his presence. He has to protect them! He needs to be there just in case. He's their first and last line of defense.

He's not sleeping until he's absolutely certain it's safe for both of you.

[peachmuses]

@sociieties asked: makoto goes between staring at his hands to staring at shuuzou, watching his new ( only ) friend color outside the lines on in some coloring book. earlier shuuzou had asked him if he wanted to color and makoto shook his head no. just two minutes ago, shuuzou asked him again and makoto again shook his head no. he blinks, attention moving back down to his hands as some fuzzy, itchy feeling becomes to overbearing that scratching at his hands and arms do not help. he sneezes, quiet and sudden, and the lights in building turn off and fail to come back on. // mm

shuuzou is excited -- makoto is the first person that he's ever brought over to his house - his mother seems to be in a good mood, the twins are out at lessons, and his father isn't home. the colouring books aren't really his - not really, but ume-chan had given it to him the night prior ( filled with rainbows, and ducks, and water sceneries. there's even a mermaid. ) his mother had met them both, fuyuko hesitant -- but willing, to meet one of shuuzou's newest friends. ( her son, after all, rarely makes any / he doesn't bring anyone home, and while usually she has no problem with him going over to the kid's place - despite the fact that she still hasn't seen makoto's mother; she's talked to her on the phone once, so when shuuzou asked the night prior if he could go over to makoto's despite makoto's mother not being home -- she had shaken her head, and told him that makoto could come over, instead. ) makoto doesn't speak - shuuzou had reminded her that morning, and when she had met the child, and refused to speak, she asked him directly his name for him to start scribbling on paper. her son interrupted her - and quickly became quiet after she eyes him. she sighs - sends them off on their way, and moves to the kitchen. carrots, she thinks, would be a good snack for them, with some honey on the side. makoto doesn't want to colour with him, and shuuzou pouts -- unsure what the other wants to do. he remembers the puzzles the other has in his room, before he scampers off to find one of the one's his parents got him. ( it's ugly, and shuuzou hates it -- but maybe makoto will like it. ) handing it over, " you're suppose to unlock it some how -- but i've not gotten it off yet. " before he goes back to colouring. ( pinks and reds, and blues and violets, scribbled across the page, outside of the lines -- and he's just almost finished when the lights go out and shuuzou, " oh man my picture ! " ) before attention turns to makoto, " bless you, " he nods to himself, because he's raised right, and manners are important, " are you getting sick -- " a knock at the open door of shuuzou's room, and fuyuko enters, " i've brought carrots, " shuuzou's nose scrunches in distaste, " and honey. makoto, are you scared of the dark ? " she walks in, setting the plate down on the little table that shuuzou had set up earlier. the room isn't that dark -- there's still light shining in from the outside, and dark gaze goes towards her son's picture, and there's a brief look of displeasure on her face. " shuuzou, you need to stay within the lines. you can do better than that. i know you can. " shuuzou deflates -- he had been planning on giving it to makoto when he was finished -- a pretty picture of a sea creature, but maybe his mother is right. " it's for mako -- " he says, quietly, eyes focusing on the turtle. " and you value him ? then you should do better, shuuzou. " attention shifts back to makoto, " i hope you like carrots. shuuzou doesn't, but he has no room to be picky. carrots are good for you. " she's certain that makoto needs some healthier foods and maybe he would talk. " i hope the power comes back on soon. did you two see anything ? "

[causticsunshine]

Okay I agree with your post SO MUCH and I’ve been wanting to scream about this for so long but have not had an outlet so I’m going to have a very brief freak out in ur inbox (for which I’m sorry and feel free to delete lmao) but I have a big beef with people reactions to their tour outfits. I’m gonna be honest I didn’t vibe suuuper hard with either of their wardrobes for the most part (I mean they looked great obviously but not a ton of diversity but it’s whatever still very cute) but when Harry was one tour literally every single show I would see 10-15 posts berating him and Harry L for styling him in the same type of outfit night after night, but when Louis went on tour and wore black jeans and a T-shirt night after night those same people were all over my dash screaming about how sexy he looked and the punk rock vibes and how great the outfit was and how his style is unmatched etc etc etc. and like I’m not saying this to try and hate on Louis at all bc I don’t have anything against the outfits but they were a bit basic, and yet suddenly all these people didn’t care abt wearing the same kind of thing over and over and literally every other complaint they had and were singing his praises constantly and it was just SO DIFFERENT to how people reacted to Harry. Sorry this is so long I’m just MAD lol and also I think this sounds kinda negative but it’s nothing against h or l just some of the ppl talking abt them.

you go ahead and yell all you want my dude, i hear you!

and i totally get where you're coming from, like i'll fully admit i had a similar reaction to you in regards both of their tour fits—for the most part. some of harry's i really loved, but otherwise i was kinda like 'mm okay' although i did understand after tour (good one, @ me) that the whole uniform look was kind of the vision/intention. and with louis so far, it's been like '...yeah that's just. that's just how he dresses sometimes lmao' but the shorts look at my show did take me by surprise just because it was windy and cold as shit on the 7th and even wearing joggers with a flannel and letterman over the crop tank i was wearing i was freezing my tits off until the show started (like louis has said numerous times over the years that he gets cold easily and since last august has performed multiple times in long sleeves and long pants, so to be in the pacific northwest in march and in shorts and a t-shirt was like.... ok was this part of odds or are you somehow suddenly boiling??)

and i think because harry's so much more involved in more dressy ✨ Fashion ✨ scene while louis' tour looks so far have been more about comfort with the little influences of streetwear brands he fancies and footie shirts, referential graphic tees, people were harsher on harry because 'well we spent all this time getting hyped up about the tour 'fits only for it to be this' like.... admittedly i did think that at first too but that doesn't make it okay in any sense? like it's what he wanted to do and that's really what what matters! like i'd much rather he or anyone else performing, especially considering people who're also known for having a foot in the fashion pool, be comfortable and able to move around in whatever they please rather than being itchy or overheated or unable to move around just to look fancy.

but yeah.... people making all this commentary about louis' looks for the most part—and so far, like we got a bit to go still, haha—when girl he's in a t-shirt or long sleeve and jeans, he just looks like that (and he looks GOOD but like. that all came straight from that man's closet lmao), after they shat on H and harry l for being repetitive and 'simple' and all this shit because 'he should be doing more'.....

hypocrisy seems to be a real overarching character trait with this ugly favoritism nonsense, huh 🤔🤔

[penisman420-69]

A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—

"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."

"Oh," Dream says.

"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"

Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.

"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."

"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."

George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.

"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."

GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.

"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.

"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.

"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.

The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.

So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.

"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.

"Alright, seeya."

After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.

He sighs and wishes for rain.

He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.

A text from George.

I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.

"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.

He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.

Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.

Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.

Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.

He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.

He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.

A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—

"Dream?"

He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—

"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.

He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"

"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.

"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.

Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.

He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?

"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"

Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."

"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."

Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."

George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"

Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.

"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.

George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.

The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.

Beautiful.

He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.

"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?

Was it you?

In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.

"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."

"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"

Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.

"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.

Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."

George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."

Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.

The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.

George grins. "I told you it's pretty."

"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.

George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.

Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.

The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.

"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.

"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.

Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.

Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.

Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.

I have heatwaves saved on my computer it doesn't phase me anymore I've read this several times you can't hurt me with this

[rikuphobic]

A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."

"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul—

"You were AFK for a while," George says, "we were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."

"Oh," Dream says.

"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing as his own words leave his mouth. "Lil too excited watching George?"

Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.

"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate off-stream."

"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushes it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."

George groans, making Sapnap and Dream laugh. "Now you're just trying to make me uncomfortable."

"Flustered, you mean," Dream inputs quickly.

"Okay, no, I'm sick of you two," George says, immediately exiting their server. "Consider this a rage quit."

GeorgeNotFound has left the game. Dream sends a :( into the chat.

"Noo, Georgie," Sapnap pleads.

"You did a great job today," Dream says, wholeheartedly. "I'm going to re-watch what I missed of it later." George laughs.

"I seriously have to go. I'll talk to you soon," he says, a small sound emitting from Discord signifying he's left the call.

The feeling returns to Dream's chest—it's akin to the cold rush that follows when he removes his hands from a steaming coffee mug. Some nights after their friends have logged off for good, he'll do anything to avoid giving in and going to bed. Twitter, mini-games, coding, creating playlists. His favorite nights, though, are when George wakes up early enough to keep him company. Their conversations radiate with the warmth of both the Florida night and the English sunrise.

So whenever George jokingly becomes angry with him, Dream can't dispel the tiny tremor of worry that maybe he's gone too far. He doesn't like to mull over the thought of them really fighting; it would terrify him like nothing else. He knows George will call again tomorrow, and that he isn't nearly as upset as he lets on. Yet he still finds himself carefully watching the dot next to George's name switch from green to a pale grey.

"I think I'm gonna hop off too," Dream says to Sapnap.

"Alright, seeya."

After disconnecting, he swivels around in his chair to face his bed. The dark comforter has been kicked to the floor, sheets askew. The window above his bed is shut tight to keep out the humid air and insects, but he can see the soft orange streetlights in the distance.

He sighs and wishes for rain.

He remembers running barefoot on his neighborhood streets as a child when storms would roll in from the sea, splashing in gravelly puddles and letting the cool raindrops dampen his hair. That space was always euphoric—a brief temperance from the smoldering air, green palm trees swaying in the wind, the hint of thunder and lightning—but it feels so far from him now. Especially in this dreadful weather.

He turns off his computer and begrudgingly gets in bed. He's nearly grown accustomed to the dark when his phone vibrates, the notification lighting up the room. He squints.

A text from George.

I feel like this song is a good way for me to get back at you, it reads. Dream clicks on the link, opening his Spotify to a new 'Glass Animals' song.

"Heat Waves," he responds, smiling. Very funny.

He'll listen to that in the morning. As he sets his phone back on the nightstand, Dream finds himself warmed by the gesture, even though it was an insult on his behalf. George is a thoughtful guy. Nothing wrong with appreciating that. Not that Dream finds it unnerving that interacting with George has a direct correlation with his general contentment and moods; in fact, it isn't worth the overthinking.

Settled by his own logic, he allows his body to focus on sleep. He slips in and out of shadows, occasionally tossing and turning in irritation at the cotton sheets. The fabric clings to his dampened skin up to the moment he sluggishly kicks it away. Something clatters to the floor, but Dream rolls onto his side.

Eventually, the night cools enough for him to sink deeper, and deeper, until he turns his head from his soft, warm pillow to a cold pile of sand.

Confused, he grasps at the foundation beneath him only for the rocky grains to slip through his fingers.

He sits up rapidly, glancing at the beach now surrounding him. Although the image is narrow, he can tell there is a murky-purple lagoon lapping a few feet before him. The moon ripples across its ominous surface. The night is quiet; a taunting breeze brushing the back of his neck and bringing chills down his spine.

He looks down at his hands, seeing his bright sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. Bright green.

A sinking feeling begins to rot in his stomach as the familiarity sets in. He's been here before. He shifts his head cautiously, realizing where the shadows at the edge of his vision are coming from, and raises a hand to gently graze the ceramic covering his face. He doesn't need a mirror to know what the mask looks like.

He pulls up his hood, tensing as he anticipates the next subject he'll recognize. At any moment, behind his right shoulder, a voice will call from the edge of the trees that'll say—

"Dream?"

He freezes. That's—that's not right, it isn't supposed to be—

"George?" He asks quietly, turning around with caution. George stands a few feet behind him, goggles perched atop his head and an axe in his hand. He's looking around their location, dazed. The starry sky reflects itself on his lenses.

He walks across the sand towards Dream slowly. "Where...are we?"

"Um." Dream considers curling in on himself, but can't help fighting the comfort of honesty. "My head, I guess." He knows from experience that this place values integrity more than anything. Facing it head on, so to speak. He just doesn't know why he'd let George in here—it isn't safe.

"It's pretty," George says, sitting on the sand next to him.

Dream's heart aches faintly at his remark. Once, he'd thought it was pretty, too. He can't find the words to tell George that after so many years of frantically slipping on the sand, coughing up lung-fulls of the dark water, and running from the woods—it has become a thing of nightmares.

He stares at George. Can he feel the memories here?

"So this is..." George gestures around with his axe vaguely. "Florida?"

Dream cracks a smile. "Yeah, you finally made it," he teases softly. George's grin is bright enough to make him look away. "It's a lagoon I used to come to as a kid."

"You make it sound like that was lifetimes ago."

Something foreign and lost weighs on the tension in Dream's features, forgotten behind the ceramic. "Maybe," he says, "I've had multiple lives here."

George says nothing. He lifts a moon-soaked hand to point at the water. "Do you see those?"

Dream turns his head, and small glowing blobs appear near the shore. Their light blue color is stark against the darkness as they float idly.

"They're moon jellies," Dream says in disbelief. He's never seen them here before. The curling darkness steals all hint of life besides him, his beating heart, and occasional whispers in the wind.

George hums in approval. Dream looks at him again, grateful for the mask covering his own features. Pale moonlight makes George's skin glow a soft porcelain, pink lips pressed together in a delicate brush stroke.

The word bubbles up from deep in Dream's chest, winding into his bloodstream and landing gracefully in his head.

Beautiful.

He wants to back away from it, to shove it deep down. But for once, it feels safe here, safe to admit it to himself without needing an air of humor to skate by on. Here, it isn't a joke.

"Why are we here?" George asks in a murmur, gaze lifting to face Dream. The word here hangs with a heavy lilt, as if he'd meant to say, what brought me? Who pulled me?

Was it you?

In his large brown eyes Dream can see the faded reflection of his sloppy black and white smile.

"I know why I'm here," Dream says carefully, "but I don't know why you are." A brief rustling of leaves and twigs behind them causes him to tense again. "It's dangerous here, George. We should go."

"Why? Don't you want to stay in this memory?"

Dream ignores the comment, and lightly wraps an arm around his shoulders to help him up. George doesn't try to stand. He keeps them rooted to the white shore with a confused frown.

"Nothing is going to hurt us when I'm here," he says.

Dream feels his face grow hot. "Knock it off. This is serious."

George looks at him earnestly. "I'm being serious."

Now that his arm is draped protectively over George's small frame, Dream becomes extremely aware of how close they are. He can sense George's body heat, watch his chest rise and fall, see the goosebumps on his neck. Dream's heart begins to pound. For how long has he wanted to meet him? To hear his voice in person? The fear inside him slowly begins to ebb away into fondness.

The moon jellies rapidly multiply until the lagoon is dappled blue, and gleaming.

George grins. "I told you it's pretty."

"Because of you," Dream says warmly. Even though George rolls his eyes, he means it. They laugh lightly at each other, glowing water and gentle sparks blooming as the moment passes.

George's gaze lingers on Dream for a few heartbeats, before letting go of his axe. He raises his hand to reach for the ceramic mask.

Dream freezes as his eyes follow the motion. His hood falls when George runs his fingers gently through his wavy hair—he can't remember the last time he let someone do this. It feels intimate. It feels terrifying. His eyes shut when George finds the metal clasp on the back of his head, he exhales when he feels the weight of the mask drop from his face.

The breeze is cold on his cheeks. He can smell the nearby saltwater. He opens his eyes, and sees twice as many stars as usual.

"How did you do that? I've never..." He looks at George, who is smiling softly.

"I know honesty is important to you," George says. His hand moves to gently touch Dream's cheekbone.

Dream reaches and delicately takes George's hand in his, slender knuckles and fingers sliding together with timid grace. He feels alive. He leans closer, studying George's eyes until he slips down, further, to his soft lips. His breath is trembling.

"And what if I kissed you right now?" He murmurs, heart racing. "How honest would that be?"

George's eyes grow wide. "I—well, Dream—you—" he stammers, giving Dream exactly what he needs to let go.

Their movements happen nearly all at once—the inclining of George's jaw, the slide of Dream's hand into his hair, the connection of their lips. The kiss is raw with emotion, and gentle. Hot embers rise from Dream's chest to heat his face. The soft presence of George's mouth against his own is surreal, as their senses collectively slip away into the dreamland. His hand rises to softly cup George's jaw. He pulls his face closer, breath hot, heart stuttering. Nervous energy quickly ebbs into a strong hearth of longing, as he kisses George again, and again, and again. George emits a soft noise that makes Dream melt. He can feel George's hands in his hair, then on his neck, then on his chest.

Dream pulls away to capture brief puffs of air. His chest rises and falls rapidly, as he looks at George's flushed cheeks and mouth kissed red. Because of him. A low feeling stirs in the space just below his ribcage, the first flickering of a dangerously hot flame. All of it, all of George, just for him.

Dream parts his lips to say something, anything—and promptly wakes up.

oop there’s the entire first chapter of heatwaves

[valkerymillenia]

Umbrella Academy

season 2, episode 8

Once again- live blogging my thoughts and reactions in one post to avoid spamming.

So this is how the FBI gets their hands on Vanya, huh? Seems most fan theories were wrong.

Oh, Sissy's last name is Cooper!

I did wonder about that -how did remember her name despite forgetting everything else? If she knew her name then she should have been able to remember other little fragments.

Of course the feds focus on the fact that her name is Russian. Cold war bullshit. I guess they think she's a spy or since Russian sleeper soldier or something.

"I'm not Russian" -you kinda are though 😅 Tatiana was Russian and gave birth to you in Moscow sooo...

DID VANYA JUST SPEAK RUSSIAN?!

Is that one of the 7 languages that Reggie all the siblings or....? Does it... Does it have something to do with her powers or her birth place?

"simple-minded boy"? FUCK YOU.😠

"communist threat" there it is 🙄

Oh no, she's losing her cool. Here come the powers... I keep wondering how she does that 'sucking the life' out of someone thing. 🤔

That's a lot of puke.

Poor Five, he's starting to crack under the stress.

Why is Ben gagging? He's dead, he shouldn't be able to feel or smell the puke.

Loving Robert's real curls starting to show.

"I regret nothing" -hmm.... Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of.

"there's a giant dead white boy on my couch" 😆

"Oh, I see. It's gonna be one of those kind of nights, huh? So are we burning or burying?" -this is why I love Klaus! He doesn't even flinch, he doesn't care what happened, he doesn't ask, he just immediately decides that he's going to help his sister get rid of a dead body like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Although, it would be interesting if Klaus actual saw the Swede ghosts too. I just want Klaus to be seeing ghosts everywhere again, ok? I want that struggle from season 1 to be brought back and not swept under the rug for plot convenience. As a writer, if you make something an important character trait, you stick with it and they haven't done that with Klaus, they are half-assing his struggle with his powers.

It's the Swede really going to...? Oh good, saved by the cat.

Oh! So that's what "lavender" means! I was right, it was the perfume, it was probably obvious but I'm a little dumb.

Ah! Lila is trying to hire Diego for the Commission???

Diego is so confused.

"colorful history" sounds so wrong and sexual 😣

Diego is so full of bullshit. His loyalties absolutely lie with his family, he's just too defensive to admit it.

Reginald FRAMED Pogo's family drawing? So he's a better dad to the chimp than his own kids, huh?

THE TELEVATOR!!!!!!! PLANS FOR THE TELEVATOR!!!! I love comic references, please tell me we'll see a real televator in the show!

So Reggie really is planning something about JFK...

"are you involved in something nefarious?" "Quite often. Did you have something more specific in mind?" -at least he owns it 😆

"shaggy man" -ah! Poor Diego!

Reggie really loves this Grace, huh? But she has a point.

Five is losing it a bit, huh?

The baby powder 🤣

"I have to find myself" -RIGHT! I was wondering when this would come up! Old!Five was there for the JFK thing so Five just has to find his old self and his briefcase in order to correct all this mess. More comic references!

"arguably the most dangerous assassin in the time-space continuum" -DAMN RIGHT 💯

"paradox psychosis" 🤣I know it's supposed to be super serious but the symptoms are so funny...

"a spotter? What is that? Like a wingman?" 😆 This parallels that "Body man? What's that? Like a masseuse?" line in s02e02 where Five is the confused one.

Five, do you really think your brother can stop you if you spiral? Because I don't.

Luther doesn't have a great attention span, does he?

Harlan's drawing is interesting... I get a feeling it's important.

Shit, they are torturing Vanya!! This is so bad!

LSD? LSD?????? No, that's a terrible idea with her powers!!!

Eeeewwwww the eyeballs! 👁️

That's a hell of a bad trip... The way the music makes with the visuals reminds me of my synesthesia though.

Oh! So this is where the scene of all the adult siblings in the Academy uniforms is from!!! (I remember someone saying it was Diego dreaming of having a drugged hallucination in the asylum, they were pretty close! It's Vanya drugged by the FBI instead!)

"I get you" -that is not the face of a person that gets this at all, Luther!

"Don't freak out." -like that ever worked 😆

Lila trying to have her cake and eat it too with her mom and Diego.

That informational video 🤣🤣🤣

Free coffee! Weekly donuts* (*fees apply)! Wow, so tempting 😒

"whatever your skill, education, or comfort level with moral ambiguity (...)" 😆

Are the Fives just having a staring contest? 🤣🤣

Ah! How can Five be bitchy and aggressive to HIMSELF 😆

"all those years on the apocalypse, we never stopped working about our family." -why does Luther look so damn surprised to hear this?? Why the hell does he think Five is doing so this for?!

Wow, Five is really bitter about his body, isn't he? He's making old!Five so nervous 😅

Oops, there's stage 4 for old!Five!

And there's stage 3 as well and stages 5 and 6 for little!Five.

I get a feeling Five doesn't really have the accurate calculations, he's just lying and using the originals.

"I don't trust him!" -he's... He's you...14 days ago! How do you not trust yourself?

"but he's you" "exactly" 🤣🤣🤣

I'm so afraid how what Diego is going to do. I get a feeling hell fuck up trying to be a misguided hero again...

"I'm Diego. I have a knife." 😆

"it's very shiny" 🤣

So Diego is a legend, huh? 😏

"there's been a coup d'etat" "what's that? Cadillac?" -don't play dumb, Diego, I don't believe for a single second that you don't know what a coup is.

So the new apocalypse WAS Vanya's fault but by proxy (actually more the FBI's fault), she was just a small domino. So literally the only one that didn't actively do anything to impact the timeline ends up being the one doing the most damage (again)? PLOT TWIST!

Oh no, DON'T GET ANY IDEAS ABOUT YOUR SISTER, DIEGO! YOU SAW HOW BADLY THAT ENDED LAST TIME!

No, I refuse to believe "she will always be the bomb" 😠😠😠😠

LOL, hi, Dot!

NO! LUTHER, YOU MORON! DON'T GIVE HIM ALL THAT INFO! YOU'LL CHANGE EVERYTHING AND CEASE TO EXIST!!!

These dumb siblings exhaust me

"little jerk-off" -why are you insulting yourself, you weirdo? 😆

Old!Five with all the PP symptoms and yet he says he never felt better in his life 🤣

"you're getting paranoid" -you both are, and sweaty, itchy and gassy. All that's missing is the homicidal rage at this point 😅

Vanya's hallucination shows us a twisted paranoid view she has of her siblings and it's very interesting:

-Ben is protective, defends her, he can do no harm, probably because he died young so nostalgia blurs her memory of him

-Allison defends her but is also arrogant and condescending, speaking as if she's implying that Vanya is weak, probably because Vanya feels that Allison is perfect and has an inferiority complex

-Luther is just as arrogant and looks down her, calling her lazy, but does so without malice (more mockery than anger)

-Klaus is accusing and suspicious but still on the fence and excitable, probably reflecting Vanya's own doubts and how she herself sees Klaus

-Five just stares, judging and silent but unable to look away, probably because she trusts him but she also doesn't know him, there's the same nostalgia effect as Ben but because Five came back (to stop her) the inferiority and fear of judgement is still there

-Diego is completely different, awkward and detached, this one is the most interesting because he's one of the people that was most vocal and mean against her in season 1 but apparently she sees a kindred spirit in him to an extent, either that or she fears she means nothing to him

Maybe I'm overanalyzing again...

I totally predicted the dishes would be brains but it's still gross.

Ew, the chewing... 😫 It's giving me the creeps.

Why is she seeing Harlan's drawing? She was gone already when he made that particular drawing (I knew it would be important), is she connected to him now??

And how does she remember her own birth??

Holy shit, Harlan is feeling Vanya's pain!!!😲😲😲

"why are people so much heavier when they're dead?" "You got a lot of practice at this?" 😅

Ben and Klaus conversation actually makes me feel a bit better about the possession but it makes no sense at all 🤣

Poor Ray keeps meeting in-laws in the weirdest situations 🤣🤣🤣🤣 his face! 🤝

Ray is having a nervous breakdown 😣 poor guy...

The moment Lila notices Diego is missing, the intercom chimes "Loyalty isn't a choice, it's a lifestyle" and if that isn't foreshadowing for Lila choosing sides then I don't know what is.

This is a really painful way for Vanya to recover her memories but it's so well done!

Holy shit... 😳

Klaus asking the real question here. She's being tortured, Klaus, go help!!!

HOLY SHIT! HARLAN HAS VANYA'S POWERS NOW?!

No, no, no,no, no, no nononononono! This is so bad! A child with a disorder that makes emotions hard to regulate suddenly having an apocalyptic level of power that connects directly to emotion is just a recipe for disaster!

[soldierallen]

Married 8.

Warnings: domestic henry, a kiss, mention of the word whore, probably a curse word or two

Featuring: Henry Cavill, Sebastian Stan, Robbie Amell.

Part 7:

/

It was already dark by this point

she would always sing in the car to new music that only she listened to everyone hated that she liked every single new song on the radio however they adored their best friend so it didn't bother them that she would sing loudly on road trips, it wasn't new to them it was traditional except for tonight, she sang nothing and looked out the window Henry tried to get her talking every once and awhile but it didn't work.

"Wait in the car for me, I'll be back" he said, he walked up to his front door unlocking it and slipping in quickly

Henry's such a good man, I wish I could have someone like him you know someone who takes care of me like he does, thinks about me..when nobody else does she sat there thinking of all the things that could've happened tonight- not one thing she wanted happened, he didn't stop the wedding she didn't stop the wedding he said he loves her but never continued to say anything else

Only 20 minutes later he had walked out in different clothes "oh comfy" she smiled sadly at his warm comfy clothes "its not like you don't own most of my clothes at your place" he said getting into the car she smiled devilishly "you know I can always buy you your own, oh and also I'm missing a certain sweater and if I find it in your closet I'm taking it back"

"Rude" she said rolling her eyes "it's not rude it's my sweater" he rolled his eyes putting the keys into the ignition the seatbelt noise and lights turning on

"Is it the white one with the buttons" she admitted he started the car with a laugh "yeah" he looked at her "oh you can have that back I don't even wear it" " I'm taking back the clothes I like" "you're not" "I am" he backed out of his driveway and drove off onto the road to her house

"Okay fine but there is two pieces you absolutely cannot have"

"Which are?" He said looking at from the corner of his eye "the navy blue sweater with the white letters of the sleeves, that's the sweater you put me in when I stayed at your house... that one night" she trailed off he knew and put his hand on her hand for reassurance "and that grey t shirt it's so comfy and big smells like you" none of the words on the clothing would come into her mind "you took that out of my drawer you thief!" he said "it's no big deal I'll buy you a new one!" She explained she loved arguing with Henry like this, it was just a lot of teasing it never went further than teasing ever.

"I'll be looking forward to it" he laughed and so did he adored their playful arguments about literally nothing it felt so pure to him knowing that he still had that friend, that one friend who you could talk about anything with smile with laugh with, she has always taken my side and I've taken hers.

Sebastian was worrying as soon as he walked into that front door, everything came crumbling down.

"Mom" sebastian yelled his mother coming down the stairs quickly hearing her son's voice "baby" she put her hands on his face "I messed up I really messed up ma and I don't know how to fix it" he paced she hugged her boy he hugged her back "I'm gonna lose y/n I'm gonna lose her cause I made too many mistakes that aren't fixable" he was so worn out at this by time he wanted nothing more than to just perish, nothing felt real.

"sit down, you can always fix things between you and y/n just tell her everything the truth the real truth." she sympathizes with him he sat down on her and his "father's" couch "where's tripp" he was so done with this day he rubbed his forehead cold metal on his skin he looked up the wedding ban still on his finger he pulled it off and threw it across the room it hitting the wall falling behind the TV.

"He's asleep he was so angry at her he couldn't contain it, cheating on you like that? He's is very protective over his kids seeing her hurt you like that drove him crazy"

"Tripp doesn't care you're just saying that to make me feel better" sebastian folded his arms over chest looking at the TV screen which played some kind of cooking show it was quiet "your father loves you sebastian, can you just not be a jerk for 10 seconds and maybe you will realize that all the people in your life love you and care about you." His mother was right and he knew she was right it was just his anger and his frustration would always come out at the wrong times.

"Is rose okay?" His mother nodded "she had a talk with faith and she reassured her that you were okay" he laughed.. the sound draining quickly

"Do you remember what grandpa said before he passed" she laid her head on her sons shoulder he gave her a questioning look "Something Broken Can Always Be Fixed" she looked at a frame picture of her father and sebastian on the wall a few months before he got sick, sebastian opened his jacket pocket feeling the silver ring she gave him he pulled it out looking at it twirling it in his finger "she gave this to me a few days before the wedding, she said she needed to give me it now because the wedding was going to be too hectic to actually see my reaction" he swallowed thinking about a more simpler time, and then he remembered the argument in his driveway and that... that was the worst day for him.

"Grandpa gave it to her to give to me when I needed it the "most".. now I know why she gave it to me so early" he looked at the engraved writing inside of the ring, "how did he know to give it to her?" His mother asked "She's been in my life forever he knew she was someone to keep forever"

Henry put down his bag on her bedroom floor "what if I just call him to see if hes okay?" She was still thinking about it, I mean he did confess his love for her.. she should talk to him at least for a minute right?

" but after everything he's done you still want to check on him?" she stared at him "what if he needs me" "you both will live with it, you both need a breather from each other I promise it's for the better" he looked for her remote throwing it at her she turned on the TV, the news was on it was 11pm on a Sunday, the streets were somewhat quiet..

He sat next to her on her bed she laughed at him whilst he stared at her studying her facial features, he always admired her.

she pulls the hair tie out of her hair fixing it on her wrist, looking at him from the corner of her eye "what?" She finally broke the silence

"You know, I always thought you were gorgeous" she smiled "oh come on" she put her hand on his shoulder

"When we were nineteen I considered asking you out and I chickened out!" He said both of them laid on the pillows watching some show

"Nineteen year old me was a hoe" she said with a laugh "nineteen year old you was hot" he half smiled she pushed his arm lightly

"nineteen year old me would've so fucked nineteen year old Henry, we were very fuckable than" she smirked "yeah twenty five year old y/n and Henry are very fuckable dont underestimate us" he filrted, he got up looking in her closet she blushed lightly

"After all these years you still make me blush" she threw a pillow at his backside which he caught and threw it back at her "I'm very charming what could I say" he laughed but it was muffled her clothing in the closet making it seem quieter.

"Where the hell is my white sweater?" he said inside of the closet looking "the last article on the right side should be it" she focused on his back and butt "I am not a sexual object you can objectify" he looked over his shoulder at her with a fake frown she laughed very loudly covering her face in embarrassment he turned to her "I'm kidding" he pulled the sweater out onto her bed "I thought this was nicer? How long have you had it"

"A few months I thought it was comfy but it was just itchy" she laughed

"We should eat?" He suggested

A phone call ruined the mood definitely. It was Henry's and it was Sebastian

"Hello" he answered the phone putting it on speaker.

"Are you with her?" Seb asked he looked up at her for an answer she quickly nodded no

"No I'm alone what's up" He acted like he was concerned when in reality he wasn't.

"I think I need to see her just explain everything really get to the bottom of it?" He sat next to her she looked at Henry, Henry looked at her gave no real answer

"I think you should do whatever you feel is right" Henry said, he wanted them to mend their relationship but he knew sebastian wasn't going to do that properly.

"Is it too soon?" He was curious

"No do it because you want to not because you have to" Henry wanted to get mad and just scream and tell him to wrap it up were adults!

" if I just give it time??"

"How long is she suppose to wait for you?"

Sebastian had no answer on the other side

"Don't call her than it's that simple" he looked at y/n for reassurance she had no reaction

"Henry, I didn't know how I felt about her until the night of the argument it really got my gears turning that I was making a mistake I didn't feel like myself"

"Seb you haven't been yourself since Alex walked into the party on the roof, it's a completely different person you have turned into, you know that y/n told you" he looked at y/n and she mouthed "he knows he just wants to hear you say it" she said to Henry In a small whisper

"I know I just wanted to hear you say it" Henry gave her these eyes like how did you know "I know him" she mouthed no words coming out of her mouth

"Henry I didn't call for you to be angry"

"She said it, I absolutely couldn't care less if you get together or not"

"She doesn't want to talk to me.." he was bummed, and tired I think sebastian needed to sleep for the next week and think about what he did "she wants to talk to you beileve me just not tonight call her tomorrow and work it out alright" Henry said

they hung up and Henry gave her a weird look

"why did you want me to do that?"

"I don't want to suffer anymore if he wants me if can call me I can't do it.." she said he turned to face her getting closer to her "you're a good women, my best friend you deserve someone who will take care of you" she pulled him towards her face her kissing him he kissed back lightly a small smile creeped onto his face "what was that" he asked "I wanted to see what it would be like, was you okay with it" she was a little afraid thinking she overstepped

"I liked it" he tried to contain his self from giggling it was just funny to him, that they kissed and it didn't certainly mean much to the both of them... or so they thought. she got up grabbed her phone off the living room coffee table

"Okay I'm not watching a chick flick" he insisted coming behind her resting his chin on the nuk of her shoulder

"You love my chick flicks cavill, romance is the key" she looked to the side of her to see his face

"Fine I choose the food" he grabbed the phone out of her hand "hey" she got offended "I don't want Chinese or thai food" "you're making me sad"

"You get a chick flick, I get those tacos from down the street"

"You always complain their bad?" She looked for her jacket

"Yeah? Your point is?" He said she laughed shaking her head, never mind she thought.

"Or I get a chick flick and we go get both" she dangled her keys in his face he grabbed them "okay"

"Why" she whined

"Because you're a horrible driver"

"You just keep offending me?"

"I guess it's in my nature" he laughed kissing her cheek she was fluttered by butterflies in her stomach, she liked the way Henry made her feel.

"Should I change my shorts it's cold" she said

"Change I'll wait for you"

"Thanks" she went back into her room to change her shorts when all of sudden she realized.... I kissed Henry?

He watched her walk back into her room his brain exploded with questions... I kissed y/n?

He bit his lip knowing that she wanted that she wanted him, it was crazy for him to ever think she wanted him in that kinda way, he didn't just like the kiss he loved it.

When they got into the car it was quiet but a comfortable quiet a very bearable nice quiet being in the company of someone you would do anything for was a good feeling.

"Are we just not gonna talk about you kissing me earlier" he tried to keep a straight face wanting to smirk so badly

"I just wanted to see what it was like that's all" it was kind of a lie, she wanted to feel something anything and she got it she felt butterflies

"Oh okay" he nodded at her, a red light appearing in front of them he looked to his right at her she looked at him "can you stop staring at me" she let out a small laugh "you're beautiful I can't help it" he looked back at the road

They got to the thai place ordering, they waited when a familiar face they had just seen a few hours ago appear, Robbie.

"Robbie??" Henry called out to the man sitting by himself, he held y/n's hand his protective side coming out strongly

"Henry y/n" robbie said he was still in his suit no tie on his dress shirt unbuttoned hair was tousled he looked like a wreck

"Hows it going y/n after everything?" Robbie knew feelings for sebastian

"Okay I guess, what happened?" She asked, Henry felt sympathy for the guy all he wanted was the girl he loved and got put into a lot of other shit. And so did she "Well after you all left, sebastian's father yelled at me for ruining his son's "marriage" and taking away the one good thing sebastian had in his life" robbie air quotes marriage because it wasn't a real marriage and they both knew it "and then Alex came and told me to eat shit and screamed at me for the first time in 4 years that was fun, and now am here eating thai food alone at almost 1am" he was so frustrated

"hey go get the food" Henry whispered to y/n and that's what she did

"Listen robbie what you did today was a bold and brave move, you had more guts than any one of us since the past 5 months I know things are probably really shit right now but I promise everything will fall into place" he put his hand on his shoulder a comforting hand robbie gave a comforting smile "I did this all for her, and i get nothing out of it" he said the women with his order ready to hand it to him, "I know everything's gonna be alright" he patted his shoulder once again and regrouped with y/n "thanks for the talk Henry you're not so bad" robbie tried to joke around Henry laughed "yeah people tell me that" he held y/n's hand out the door

"What you did was really nice of you"

"What?"

"I heard you"

"Yeah I just felt bad for the guy"

"Me to, but I guess me and robbie are going through it together huh?" Henry smiled sadly and hung his arm around her "we're gonna get through it okay?" She nodded they got into the car and drove to their next destination, remotely "bad" tacos as Henry says.

Tagged @hiddlestonstansworld @lovely-geek @imcalledflorence @misz-adrii @escapistdreamer-wishfulthinker @someplxce @cuddlesforlashton @coffeebooksandfandomsohmy @weasley16 @ilovethewayyourheartbeats @vogueworthy-barnes @xeniarocks @thisismysecrethappyplace @racheo91 @gravedollie666 // if anyone wants to be untagged or tagged please leave a message ty♡ also I do not own any gifs or images of any kind.