#also since it is still pride month for two more days (and if we're being honest I am making pride icons all year round anyways)
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911 Maddie ICONS
7 400x400 icons under the cut
Maddie Buckley in season 2 on a black background requested by @bitchhans 💕💕 haven’t worked with season 2 maddie screencaps in a while, but this is when I fell in love with her and it was an absolute joy making these <3
please like/reblog if you use them
please do not use my icons outside of tumblr/ao3 without my permission <3
credit would be very much appreciated <3 (please DON’T claim as your own!)
#911 edit#911edit#maddie buckley#maddie buckley edit#maddie buckley icons#911 icons#911icons#icon pack#911 on fox#911 fox#911foxedit#my edit#9-1-1#season 2 maddie was baby but like fight!baby#I love her so much but I also feel extremely protective of her#(tbf I feel like that about all versions of maddie tho xD)#anyways I actually really like how these turned out I hope you like them alex <3#also since it is still pride month for two more days (and if we're being honest I am making pride icons all year round anyways)#if anyone wants any of these icons in bi colors just let me know <3
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Run Away (But We're Running in Circles)
After a million years I finally finished this one!
Dream doesn't believe he is truly loved- Hob and Death simply love everyone, it has nothing to do with him. Cue those closest to him doing whatever they can to prove that he is, in fact, very very loved
AO3
The past two months have been a whirlwind for Hob Gadling in the best way possible.
So many things he once thought impossible (or at the very least highly unlikely) had come to fruition. His stranger had returned to him, his stranger apologized, his stranger called him his friend. Those three things alone had made Hob's heart feel like a star, burning and bright and alive.
And then the ethereal man had sat across from him, a gentle smile on his face, weary but sincere, before he smoothed his expression into something unreadable.
"I believe introductions are in order," Hob almost squealed like a fan girl as the man hesitantly held out his hand, "Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares. I have other names as well should you find this one unsatisfactory."
It's so ridiculous Hob would laugh if not for the dead serious note in his stranger- his friend's- voice. The idea that Hob would find anything about this being 'unsatisfactory', that he would declare his name not good enough and ask for another. Absolutely ludicrous.
Also a little sad, but he pushes past that.
He clasps his hand, face about to split from smiling so wide, "Dream," it feels so good to say, "a name that suits you perfectly," he adds because it's true. Then he smirks, "I'm Hob Gadling. I'd offer you another name but you've never complained about this one."
A breath escapes the other man, as much of a laugh as Hob has ever heard from him and this is the best day in Hob's very long life.
"Tell me of your life, Hob Gadling, for it has been too long since last we met."
Yes, it has, and for a moment Hob's joy dims. Then why did you leave me? Where have you been? Why now? What changed? Why now? The questions bubble uncomfortably in his throat.
He swallows them back.
Eventually he will allow himself to ask for answers- demand them even, perhaps, he thinks he deserves it- but not today. Today he wants to bask in the warmth of reunion. In the gentle glow of his friend’s shy smile.
So all he says is an earnest, “Yes. I have missed you dearly, my friend.”
When their meeting comes to an end, the sky outside dark and the employees of the inn not so subtly putting chairs up around them, Dream asks if Hob would be amenable to meeting more frequently, wringing his hands in front of him and not meeting Hob’s eyes, as though expecting to be denied.
Ridiculous creature.
And so they continue meeting, and Hob… has mixed feelings. He is glad to know more of his friend, to finally be given the answers he has been gnashing his teeth for. But sometimes when Dream speaks it feels more like bloodletting than sharing- like he is offering himself on an altar, inviting Hob to drive a dagger through his heart, like he needs to make a sacrifice to this thing called friendship.
He feels it most when he learns why Dream missed their meeting.
Hob feels the blood leave his face as Dream speaks of being torn from his realm, bound by magic, stripped and degraded and imprisoned and hurt-
“Dream,” Hob interrupts, his voice choked, “You don’t have to tell me.”
Across the table, Dream doesn’t look at him, “You are my friend.”
“Yes,” Hob agrees immediately, “And I will still be your friend if you don’t want to talk about this.” He tries to catch Dream’s eye, “Being your friend doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”
“Being a bad friend means I owe you everything,” Dream counters, and Hob wants to cry.
Hob does cry, “Fuck, Dream…” He almost missed the prideful and aloof king of centuries past. As much as he enjoys the easy smiles and the taste of a name on his lips, he would give it all away if it meant saving Dream from this pain.
Dream flinches but does not pull away when Hob reaches out to take his hands, “I’m not keeping a scoreboard with our friendship. You don’t have to pay me back if you make a mistake. And you especially don’t have to hurt yourself for me. We’re friends. So I don’t want you to hurt.”
When Dream looks up at him, he looks so confused. Head tilted and brow furrowed as he tries to make sense of the idea that someone does not want him to pay for his sins in blood.
“I do. Want to tell you these things,” Dream explains haltingly, head ducking again as he continues softer, “But perhaps. No more today.”
“Of course, love.”
Dream observes him again, eyes searching his face as though looking at a pile of puzzle pieces. Hob doesn’t know what he finds, or what picture he makes with the pieces, but for now he nods, shoulders slumping as the subject changes.
It gets easier. Or, it seems to at least. Dream tells him about Jessamy’s death quickly and her life extensively. He talks about his realm, his function, his subjects. And, eventually, he talks about his family. Some he only gives the names of, and nothing else. Some he gives brief histories of, or descriptions. And one in particular Hob learns much about.
He learns the most on the day he is given the joy of experiencing Dream having just come from an afternoon spent with his elder sister.
“I do not know why she is so insistent on spending time with me these days,” Dream grumbles, and Hob has to hide a smile behind his drink, because despite being the entities of Dream and Death (which had been quite the shock to learn), right now he is sitting across from a little brother exasperated with his big sister. “We are so different. I find it hard to believe she enjoys my gloom compared to her exuberance. Perhaps she merely delights in tormenting me,” he laments.
Hob laughs, "I think it's cute," he grins, "she clearly loves you."
Dream hums, not unhappily, and moves in a way that is too elegant to be called a shrug, "In a sense."
The tone doesn't match the words, and Hob scrunches his face in confusion, "What do you mean?"
Tilting his head slightly, Dream answers casually, "Simply that she loves me in a way similar to how you do."
And that has Hob's eyebrows shooting up to his forehead because he really, really hopes Death doesn't love her brother the way Hob does. "I'm not following."
Dream hums again, a quiet moment as he chooses his words, "Death has a love for all of humanity," he states, "and all that existence has to offer. Put simply, she loves everyone. It is in her nature. You, too, have a wealth of affection for all that you meet and all that you experience. So it is not a matter of loving me , but rather, simply loving in such a way that happens to include me by default."
There is a stretch of silence as Hob turns those words over in his mind. He struggles to fully grasp them at first, the sentiment conflicting with the way Dream presented it as irrefutable fact, something obvious and common knowledge, something Hob couldn't possibly deny.
But, shaking his head frantically to clear his thoughts, Hob was absolutely going to deny it.
"No!" Dream started at the vehemence in Hob's voice, "That's not true at all!" His voice was firm, and almost angry, which in hindsight didn't help the situation.
"...Oh," Dream's voice was soft, and carefully neutral, "I understand," he conceded. His body was like marble, and Hob could see the way he was consciously trying to mask his sorrow and Hob wanted to punch himself in the face.
"Wait, no, not like that! I didn't mean it like that!"
He hated this. Hated all of it. Hated that his friend believed he wasn't loved on purpose. Hated how quickly he accepted the idea of not being loved at all.
Reaching across the table, Hob clasped his hands around Dream's, sure but gentle. Dream blinked in surprise, staring down at the point of contact, and Hob waited patiently until their eyes met again to start speaking.
"I love you," and this was the true irrefutable fact, the true obvious and common knowledge, the truth that Dream could not deny. "You, specifically. You on purpose. I love you because you're you, and I love you apart from everyone else. And your sister does too, I know it. You are very loved, my friend, and it is not an accident."
Their eyes search each other's. Dream finds conviction, finds honesty, finds something he is afraid to identify as love. Hob finds old aches, finds disbelief, finds something close to fear. Dream looks lost.
“You really did miss me. When I was gone.” Dream whispers with awe, and it hits Hob like a punch to the gut that Dream hadn’t believed him before, had obviously assumed that Hob was just being polite or reciting a social script without really meaning it.
“Yes,” he says, soft and firm, “I really did.”
A soft sound of sand shifts at their feet beneath the table and Hob knows that Dream desperately wants to run away. Instead, he closes his eyes and grips Hob's hands tighter. Hob is so very proud of him.
"I fear I have dominated the conversation this evening," his voice is raspy, forced out between clenched teeth, "tell me of your week, Hob Gadling."
It is a plea desperately masquerading as a demand. There is only so much Dream can take at once, and Hob understands, and Hob loves him, and so he smiles and returns Dream's grip.
"You will not believe what one of my students submitted as their thesis for the end of the semester-"
~~~~
Hob doesn’t actually know if summoning Death is a thing he can do. Dream had, finally, after 600 years, explained the parameters of Hob’s immortality. It was actually pretty much what Hob had assumed given the question posed to him at each of their meetings; He would live as long as he wanted to, and when he no longer wanted to, Death would guide him to the Sunless Lands.
Well, Hob very much did not want to go to the Sunless Lands, but he did want to speak to Death.
“I refuse to look up any sort of magic bullshit for this,” Hob starts, feeling supremely silly for talking to himself in his empty flat. But he didn’t exactly have any other ideas. “So I’m going to assume in your weird Endless-ness that you can somehow hear me. I’m not looking to die today, or ever really, but I’d appreciate it if I could talk to you, Death of the Endless.” He pauses, and then adds on, “It’s about your brother.”
Apparently those are the magic words, as a voice almost immediately speaks up from behind him.
“Oh lord, what has he done now?”
Hob nearly jumps out of his skin, twisting around in his seat on the couch to see a beautiful woman leaning against his kitchen counter. While her style of all black matches her brother’s, that is where the resemblance ends. Bright eyes and glowing dark skin, a warm smile on her face. He hadn’t fully grasped how unhealthy his friend tended to look until this moment.
Shaking off the initial shock, Hob smiles back, “So you’re the famous Death, eh? I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Only bad things I’m sure,�� she teases.
“From humans, perhaps, but not from your brother.”
She smiles fondly, and Hob can tell immediately that she cares for Dream. He wonders what Dream sees when he looks at her.
“You said you wanted to talk about him?” Death asks, “Not that it’s not nice to finally meet you, but I can’t be pulled away from work for too long.”
Hob shudders instinctually at the mention of her ‘work’, but he shakes it off as he begins to explain, “Right. So, normally I wouldn’t tell you this behind Dream’s back, but I don’t think he’ll ever tell you himself and I think you should know so that you can… help, I guess.” Death frowns, and her face darkens as Hob quickly recounts the conversation he had with Dream, and his assumptions on the nature of her and Hob’s love for him.
By the end, she looks heartbroken, but when she speaks her voice is dripping with annoyance.
“My little brother truly is an idiot-”
“Don’t,” Hob cuts in. It’s probably not his brightest idea to interrupt death herself, but he knows in his gut that he can’t let her gain momentum on this, “I didn’t tell you so you could scold him, I told you so you could love him.”
“I already love him!” she snaps.
“Love him louder then!” Hob snaps back fearlessly, throwing his arms up. “Don’t be mad at him for hurting! For whatever reason, he doesn’t recognize that we love him, but the reason doesn’t matter , not right now at least. We need to stop the bleeding before we worry about what made the wound.”
There is a long pause, the two simply staring at each other. Death looks a bit shocked, eyes wide and jaw tense. Hob stares back determinedly. He may not have known Dream as long as his sister, but he is positive down to his bones that Dream won’t see the “love” part in “tough love”. He’ll probably just see the admonishment.
He wonders if that miscommunication hasn’t been a wedge between the two siblings for a long time.
Finally, Death seems to deflate, her shoulders slumping even as she quirks a smile, “My brother would appreciate the metaphor.”
Hob chuckled, “Heh, I’ve noticed. It’s helped, honestly, figuring out whatever metaphor works best for him at any given moment, y’know?”
“Yeah. I do.” Death sighs, and for a moment she looks so old . So ancient. And when she meets Hob’s gaze he thinks she looks uncertain. “I do love him. You know that, right?”
“I do,” Hob answers softly. “But I’m not the one you need to convince.”
~~~~
Hob speaks every love language, but if he’s honest, cooking will always be one of his favorites.
He thinks of being a young peasant and his parents pushing food from their own plates onto his and his siblings’ so that they would never feel the sharp pang of hunger, and of the few kind souls during the 1600s who offered food to him, the fellow homeless who nonetheless would split their meager findings with him. Sharing food has simply always evoked the warmth of love for him.
It was part of why the rejection had stung so badly in 1589. A table full of food meant to be shared, and he had been left sitting there alone. A table full of love with nowhere to go.
Now, though, he is more determined than ever. Now he knows Dream, in a way he hadn’t for so long, and he is desperate in his desire to make sure Dream feels the love he is offering.
And so he offers him food.
“Come on, just a bite!” Hob nudges the plate closer to Dream. They are sitting across from each other at the kitchen island in Hob’s flat. He had spent the better part of the day preparing the most decadent mac and cheese he could- creamy and buttery, layers of cheese and pasta folded together with autumn vegetables and a coating of perfectly toasted breadcrumbs on top. Each ingredient was added with Dream in mind, with the desire to warm him from the inside out, to give him something indulgent that might put some meat on his bones.
He’s so thin. Not fragile, exactly, Hob is certain that this mystical being is stronger than he looks, and yet… There is something to be said about how one envisions themselves in dreams. Regardless of his physical capabilities, Hob can’t help but ponder over Dream’s manifestation, and how frail and hurt it looks.
“It’s a pretty standard ritual of friendship to share a meal together,” he says pointedly, smiling when Dream huffs at him. It feels maybe a little underhanded, as he knows Dream is trying very hard to be a good friend, but he doesn’t feel too badly when he sees the soft smile on Dream’s face. For all that he had vehemently rejected their friendship at first (or perhaps because of that initial rejection) he seemed just as moved to be called friend by Hob as Hob was to be called friend by him.
“I suppose I am bound by ritual then.” There is a strange note in his voice that Hob can’t quite place, but he is still smiling, so he wonders if that is just what Dream sounds like when he tries to make a joke.
Either way, he finally reaches forward to pick up his fork, taking a delicate bite of the gooey mess Hob had served him.
“Well?” Hob asks, barely hidden eagerness in his voice.
Dream swallows, his posture becoming impossibly straighter as he looks at Hob fondly, “You are a fine cook, my friend.”
Hob can’t suppress a grin, leaning back casually in contrast to his friend’s sharp and stiff bearing, “I’m glad. It’s a useful skill when you have companions in need of spoiling.” To his delight, a soft, almost imperceptible blush blooms across Dream’s cheeks. If Hob wasn’t so practiced in observing him he might have missed it. He’s glad he didn’t.
The evening is a quiet one, sharing stories between bites, and Hob is happy. He wills the food to fill his friend. He sends a prayer that Dream’s body might become soft with his love.
~~~~
“Come on, I want to show you something!”
Dream is becoming more accustomed to his elder sister’s spontaneous visits. After her chastisement, the day she pushed him to reunite with Hob, he had expected to not see her again until it was obligated of her. For all her joy and bright smiles, he could not imagine she would actually enjoy his company. Perhaps because of her joy and smiles.
He did not expect her to willingly subject herself to him.
And yet, she had come to him. She had called to him through their galleries, inviting him into the humble space she called her home when she was not ushering souls to her realm, and inquired about his meeting with Hob Gadling. She had smiled, and squeezed his hand, and told him she was glad he had someone to call friend. He assumed she must be glad that there was someone else to deal with him, and this meeting was merely to ensure that there was someone else out there holding his leash.
Then she called him again.
And again.
It kept happening, and while a part of him felt guilty and selfish, he could not deny that he enjoyed his sister’s company. And so he allowed himself to set aside his quest to understand why she was doing it. His elder siblings have ever been a mystery to him, and whatever her reasoning, even if it was simply to keep him in line, he decided to allow himself this small joy in his sister’s presence.
Today, linking their arms together, Death practically skips as she pulls Dream from his realm. Despite himself, he can’t help but smile fondly at her enthusiasm, allowing her to guide him to the waking and into a large building. He can feel the shroud of Endlessness around them, and knows that they are walking unseen. It piques his curiosity. Death normally insisted on walking among mortals specifically to interact with them, even if only a little. The fact that she now hides them is unusual.
Glancing around, Dream finds that they are in a natural history museum, surrounded by various educational exhibits. There are murals of ancient, long gone animals and cases with their bones, plaques with information and names, interactive screens and displays. Eventually, they enter a room dedicated to plants and flora of the distant past. Death walks purposefully towards the back, glancing at Dream with an excited smile as she points to one of the displays.
“Look.”
On the pedestal in front of them is a small, square piece of amber, and within the amber there is a flower. It is small, five petals floating in the resin that Dream remembers holding in the palm of his hand so very long ago. Not as old as Dream, but older than humans, old enough that no creature on this plane dreams of it.
Dream used to keep them on the windowsill of his bedchambers.
“They were your favorite.”
Death’s voice breaks him from his revelry, and he realizes that he has been standing as still and frozen as the flower for several minutes.
Her words were not a question, but Dream nods anyway, “Yes.” The word cracks just slightly, and it takes effort, but he turns his gaze away from the flower to look at his sister, his brow furrowing in confusion, “You… remembered?”
“Of course,” Death speaks softly, as though to not break the fragile air around them, but still smiles warmly, “You gave me some, once, and I understood why you loved them. They were lovely.”
Nodding again, Dream swallows thickly, turning back to the fossil before continuing, “They faded from the Dreaming when the last creature to remember them passed to the Sunless Lands. They exist now only in the deepest pages of the Library.”
“And here,” Death corrects, tilting her head towards the exhibit, “They exist here, now, too. Humans found them. They’ll remember them,” she puts a hand on Dream’s shoulder, squeezing lightly and grinning a little wider, “Maybe someone will dream of them again!”
But not as they were , Dream thinks to himself. Any dreams of this small, fragile flower will not be the same as the ones Dream kept growing in his window, the ones he tucked behind his elder sister’s ear, the ones he held close to his chest when he was overwhelmed. They will never be the same again.
Reaching out, he lets his fingers brush against the fossil, the golden color hiding the true hues of the precious petals within, and it feels cool and cold like glass and suddenly Dream thinks he sees a hint of his reflection in the amber. Unneeded breath catches in his chest, and he wonders if this is how he would have been remembered if he had not escaped from Fawney Rig. Lost and forgotten and buried only to be dug up like this . Frozen and painted over with someone else’s color.
Assuming he was remembered at all.
His vision blurs, and his fingers tremble as he traces over the shape of the trapped flora, nothing but cold cold cold where once there had been soft and fragrant petals.
“Dream?”
Death moves to stand in front of him, pulling him away from the fossil and blocking his view. He blinks, and realizes that he is crying, but the tears are thick, and slow, and his vision has taken on a yellow hue. Raising a hand to his face, he catches a tear on his fingertips and stares down at it.
He is crying amber.
“Hey, it’s alright, little brother, you’re okay-” Death looks caught between panic and heartbreak, eyes wide and bracing her hands on Dream’s shoulders. It only makes him cry harder. Amber runs down his cheeks, dripping sluggishly from his chin into his cupped hands, sticking to his eyelashes, and he feels half-fossilized already.
Gentle hands run through his hair, guide him to kneel on the floor, and he feels the shift from Waking to Dreaming, his sister taking him home. He thinks it might not be so bad, to be petrified and buried here in the Dreaming. He thinks he might be worth more as an excavated relic than he ever was as a living being.
But. There is still a hand stroking his hair, another wiping the thick tears from his face, heedless of the mess. There is a voice beside his ear shushing him, “Oh, little brother, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He inhales, choking on the resin in his throat, closing his eyes as he lets the cool air of the Dreaming reach his lungs and slow his tears.
The resin is drying on his cheeks, and it is a struggle to open his eyes again, shards of amber encasing his eyelashes. He glances down at the pool cupped in his hands, and then sees the resin smeared over his sister’s fingers and nearly starts crying again.
“I. I apologize-”
Shushing him, Death reaches out to take his hands, tipping his palms until the amber pours out, dripping onto the stone floor of the throne room until she can curl their fingers together. Dream’s breath hitches, and he tries to pull away. He envisions the resin on their hands hardening, encasing their fingers together in amber, and how cruel it would be to subject his beloved sister to being stuck with him .
Death holds on tighter.
“It’s alright,” she leans forward, pressing their foreheads together, “take a second, Dream. Everything is alright.”
It’s really not. But reluctantly, Dream takes her advice. He breathes deeply, tries to loosen the hold his anguish has on him, dilutes it with the comfort his sister so readily offers until the resin begins to thin. Slowly, with each breath the amber turns to salt water. He still feels stiff. He still feels trapped. He thinks he simply moved the amber into his blood. Death is still holding him.
He inhales shakily, “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Death responds, soft and casual. They are still kneeling on the floor, and she leans back just a bit, still holding his hands but giving him a little more space, “I didn’t mean to upset you-”
“It was no fault of yours,” Dream interrupts, “I. Appreciate the gesture.” Looking up, he adds on, “I did not expect you to remember such an insignificant detail about me.”
“It’s not insignificant. It’s you. And you’re not insignificant.”
Those words are what finally make him pull away. His movements remind her of a mannequin, stiff and jerky, popping joints back into place after falling apart until he is once more solid and immovable. He folds his hands in his lap, and he does not look at her.
“I am aware of the importance of my function. I have not forgotten your words to me.”
Death consciously holds back a sigh of frustration. Settling back onto her heels, she takes a moment to look at her brother. She thinks of all the harm that happened in his absence, all the dreamers whose hands she took while her brother sat silent in a cage. She thinks of her words to him when they met again in the Waking after his escape. She thinks of Hob telling her that her brother didn’t feel loved, and how she had immediately put the blame on Dream. After all, how could he possibly think she does not love him for him ?
She thinks she’s starting to understand.
“I worry about you, Dream,” she whispers, reaching out to smooth back his wild hair, “I worry that one day…”
One day, Death will have to take the hands of all of her siblings. She knows that.
But she hopes that day is far away.
Dream looks up at her, head tilted like one of his ravens, “But I would still. Be there. Like the flower in the amber.”
“But not the same.” Death closes her eyes, the words soft with heartbroken realization, “Not you .”
Reaching up, Dream gently removes her hand from his hair, “Would that be so bad?”
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate, opening her eyes to look at him fiercely and gripping his hand. Dream sighed, but did not try to pull away. He still looks stiff and tense, and he swallows thickly, like there is still resin in his throat.
Death cannot help but laugh wetly. This day had not gone the way she had hoped. “Next time I want to make a point I’ll just get you something in your favorite color.”
“You do not know-”
“Green.”
Dream’s head snaps up, eyes wide in shock, and when Death smiles back, it is smug, but also fond, and sad, and- he thinks, maybe- loving, “I’ve walked through your gardens, Dream. I’ve sat in Fiddler’s Green. I’ve seen the landscapes you’ve created. And I noticed. Because I love you.”
When Dream looks at her, she can’t help but think that he does not believe her, not fully. But there is something in his eyes, a desperate longing. Like he wants to believe her. Like he wants it to be true.
Don’t go , Death doesn’t say, Don’t go. Stay. Stay so I can prove it to you. Stay long enough for me to convince you. Just give me some more time.
Desire used to love me, Dream doesn’t say, and then time passed.
“I love you as well, my sister.”
“Yeah,” she smiles, and only barely fights back tears, “I know.”
~~~
Something is not right with Hob’s plan.
It has become a regular occurrence for Dream and Hob to spend an afternoon or evening together several times a week, making it easy for Hob to guide them to a meal. Lunch at the university cafe between Hob’s lectures, dinner at a new restaurant, pots of stew that Hob had let simmer throughout the day, waiting for his friend to share a bowl with him. Each time Dream smiled and accepted his offers, diligently clearing his plates and complimenting Hob on his choices.
And Dream was getting thinner.
He didn’t notice the thinness at first. No, he noticed the layers first. Dream tended to bundle up, to keep himself covered regardless of the weather, and Hob understood. He himself sometimes caught himself pulling his coat around himself a little tighter when he remembered the details of Dream’s imprisonment. So Dream adding extra layers to his ensemble- sweaters and scarves and hoods on his coats- Hob assumed it was just a result of Dream still working through his trauma.
But as time passed, he noticed the way his friend’s already impossibly sharp cheekbones became impossibly sharper. The way the bones in his hands stood out in stark relief each time he reached for his fork.
Hob didn’t understand it.
Sitting in his flat now, not expecting company since he saw Dream in all his fragile, delicate beauty the night before, he wracks his brain to try to piece together what might be going on with his friend. He is deep in thought, hands steepled as he leans back on his couch, so he nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of loud, frantic tapping on his window.
Glancing at the window, he blinks in surprise at the sight of a large crow or raven that he swears is glaring at him. For a long moment, he simply stares, contemplating whether this warrants a call to animal control or if he should just wait for the bird to leave. He is debating trying to shoo it away himself when it taps on the glass again, somehow even angrier.
“Hey!” An unmistakable American voice projects from the Raven’s beak, “Open up, asshat, I wanna talk to you!”
In the grand scheme of things, this is not the strangest thing to happen to Hob, and yet he still nearly falls off the couch as he flails in surprise.
“Excuse me?” He stands and cautiously approaches the window, “Who, or what, exactly are you?” He demands. Hob may not be the brightest bulb in the shed, but he knows better than to let strange, angry, talking ravens into his home without taking precautions.
The raven huffs, “The name’s Matthew, Hob Gadling ,” he spits his name out pointedly, “And I’m here on behalf of Lord Morpheus, so let me in so I can shake you down properly!” He flutters a bit, letting his talons scratch at the window threateningly.
Perhaps Hob should be even more wary, given that the Raven both knows who he is and is clearly already upset with him for some reason, but the mention of one of Dream’s titles has him throwing the window open.
“Wait, Dream sent you?”
The raven- Matthew, Hob reminds himself, shaking his head in bafflement- glides through the open window to land on Hob’s coffee table, turning back to glare at him again.
“He didn’t send me, I’m here on his behalf ,” he clarifies haughtily.
Tilting his head, Hob riffles through his memories, trying to recall every name Dream has mentioned in his stories of the goings on of his realm between their meeting. Now that he thinks about it, he’s pretty sure he remembers Dream mentioning a Matthew a few times, usually with fond exasperation.
“I think Dream’s mentioned you to me… you’re one of his subjects in the Dreaming, right?”
“I’m not just a subject ,” Matthew replies with great offense, “I’m his raven .” He puffs his chest out proudly, in a way that Hob thinks more than proves that he is someone who spends a lot of time with the Dream King.
“Right, he definitely failed to mention that detail,” Hob teases good-naturedly. There doesn’t seem to be any urgency here, so he allows himself to grin widely, “It’s nice to meet you! I haven’t gotten to meet any of Dream’s other friends.”
“Yeah, I noticed, and I find that highly suspicious,” Matthew declares, “What exactly do you have to hide, huh?”
“Uh, it’s not really hiding, I just… don’t know how to contact you?”
“A likely story.”
“I mean if you tell me how to call you I’d love to hang out more-”
“What’s your deal, huh?” Matthew interrupts, “What exactly are your intentions with Lord Morpheus?”
Hob is suddenly struck by the uncomfortable feeling that he is being given the shovel talk. By a bird. About a man he is, unfortunately, not even dating.
“No intentions, really,” he tugs his ear nervously, “I just. Enjoy spending time with him, is all.”
Matthew’s feathers ruffle in agitation, “Humans are conniving pieces of shit who can’t be trusted within a ten mile radius of any sort of power,” he declares, with the authority of someone familiar with being a ‘conniving piece of shit’ himself, “so excuse me if I’m suspicious that Average Joe over here is just ‘hanging out’ with one of the forces of the universe.”
“I don’t think I’m that average-”
“And another thing! Stop guilt tripping him into eating, you ass!”
Hob’s jaw drops at the accusation, “I- wha- he’s skin and bones!”
“Yeah, and you making him sick all the time isn’t exactly helping the situation, pal!”
“Wait, what?”
“Jeez, you’re slow on the uptake,” Matthew huffs in annoyance, “He’s not human, dude. So human food doesn’t work with him. It’s like… you know that scene in Twilight- the books, not the movies- where Edward eats a slice of pizza? And then in an interview Meyer said-”
“Okay, stop, stop stop stop,” Hob cuts off Matthew’s rambling, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But he takes a human form when he’s here though, right?”
“He looks like a human,” Matthew clarifies pointedly, “That doesn’t mean he functions the same as one. Just because you can fit bologna in a CD player doesn’t mean it’s going to work out for ya.”
A slow dawning sense of horror fills Hob, and it must show on his face because Matthew tilts his head to the side curiously, his tone gentling for the first time since his arrival, “You really didn’t know, huh.”
Hob shakes his head miserably, moving to sit heavily onto the couch, “No. Dream has tried to explain the whole ‘Endless’ thing to me, but it’s so complicated. And he never mentioned that he can’t eat, and he just looks so thin and I just wanted to help-”
“Okay, alright, it’s okay!” Matthew flaps his wings a few times desperately, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’m gonna cry, and I’m not ready to find out if dream-ravens can cry or not.”
“I can’t believe this whole time I’ve been making it worse.” He thinks again of 1589, of Dream barely glancing at the spread Hob had offered him. He’s always known Dream wasn’t human. He feels like an idiot.
“I feel like an idiot,” he admits out loud.
“I mean, you are,” Matthew replies, ignoring the halfhearted glare Hob gives him, “but you’re not a malicious idiot, which was really what I was more concerned about. In my head you were like, trying to weaken him before making your move or something.”
The very idea makes Hob sick, and he shakes his head vehemently, “Never. He’s my friend . I get that humans hurt him recently, but I don’t care about his power, I just care about him .”
“Hm. You definitely seem sincere. I suppose maybe I should have just tailed you for a bit before coming in guns blazing. But my job is to protect the boss and he’s been looking a little rough recently, so. Y’know.”
Sniffling, Hob glances up at the raven, watching as he shifts on his feet anxiously. Hob blinks in realization as he speaks, “You really care about him, huh?”
“I mean, yeah, obviously,” Matthew shrugs as much as he is able, his tone becoming more casual, “Honestly it’s kind of hard not to. I mean have you seen the guy? Like, he’s supposed to be this all-powerful force of the universe, but he feels more like a kitten you find hiding from the rain under your car, y’know?”
Hob barks out a laugh, “I don’t think he’d appreciate that comparison, but you’re absolutely not wrong.”
“It’s not like he didn’t care about me first!” Matthew states, almost defensively. He flutters over, settling on the couch cushion next to Hob and he gets the impression that they should be sharing a couple beers right now, gossiping about their mutual friend, “He tries soooo hard to be all cold and aloof, but he knew me for five seconds and tried to keep me from doing my literal job ‘cause he was worried I’d get hurt.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Hob smirks, shaking his head fondly.
“I can’t believe I had to die to finally get a good boss,” Matthew huffs, “Honestly that’s the craziest part of my afterlife. Turned into a raven? I can shrug that off. I enjoy my job and love my boss? THAT’S the part I have trouble believing.”
Snapping his head over, Hob blinks for a long moment. Matthew’s feathers fluff up at his staring, “What? What did I do?”
Slowly, a grin spreads across Hob’s face, leaning forward conspiratorially.
“Want to help me with something?”
~~~
When Dream arrives for a visit two days later, Hob doesn’t even bother saying hello.
“Can I hug you?”
Dream blinks in surprise, tilting his head curiously as Hob stands patiently in front of him. When he finally nods, looking confused but not uncomfortable, Hob wastes no time wrapping his arms around his friend and pressing him close. He can feel the shape of his manifested skeleton through the layers of his coat.
“Dream,” he sighs sadly, one hand guiding Dream’s head against his shoulder, “I’m so sorry.”
“Whatever for?” Dream moves as if to pull away, but does not struggle when Hob tightens his grip, “You have done nothing to warrant an apology.”
“I’m sorry for pressuring you to eat.”
Now, Dream jerks back, and Hob lets him go, though he keeps his hands on Dream’s shoulders. He looks surprised now, and somewhat guilty, “What do you-”
“Matthew told me,” Hob explains, “Oh, yeah, I met Matthew by the way. Good guy. Or, raven, or whatever,” Dream scowls, and he quickly continues, “He was worried about you.”
“He need not have interfered,” Dream looks away, body stiff under Hob’s hands, “There was no need for his concern.”
Hob sighs, “Dream. You could have told me you can’t eat food in the Waking.”
There is a pause as Dream considers his words, gaze still steadfastly avoiding Hob’s. “You… enjoy food,” he states, “and cooking. And you. Said it was a ritual among friends.”
“I know,” Hob winces, “I understand how it might have sounded when I said that, but… Dream, we won’t stop being friends just because there are certain things we can’t do together.” Dream doesn’t answer, his body as stiff and cold as a statue.
“Dream,” he ducks his head to try to catch Dream’s eye, “I won’t love you less if you tell me no.”
And that has Dream’s head snapping up, eyes wide with surprise in a way that makes Hob’s heart crack.
“I mean it,” he insists, “I won’t be mad, or- or offended or anything if there’s certain things you can’t do. I’m sure there’s plenty I can’t do because of my humanity that you wouldn’t hold against me, yeah?”
Dream frowns, confusion on his face, “I would not ask you to take part in anything that went against your nature.”
Hob tilts his head back and sighs, his mouth curling in a fond smile, “You’re so close. You’re right there.”
There is a long pause as Dream seems to turn his words over in his head. “You. Also would not ask me to take part in something that went against my nature? Even if it is something you enjoy?”
“Exactly,” Hob grins, “I don’t enjoy it if it hurts you.”
“Despite how I have treated you in the past?”
Hob’s grin falls so fast it hits like whiplash, “Of course not!” He feels his chest tighten in horror, “Is that what you thought? That I would be okay with hurting you because we got in a fight once?”
Glancing away, Dream’s brow furrows in consideration, “It is not… I did not believe you were doing it on purpose,” he admits, which does lift a little of the weight from Hob’s heart, “I merely…” he looks up at Hob through his eyelashes, “I did not want you to think that I do not take our friendship seriously. I wanted. To prove myself. To prove that I am capable of being worthy of your companionship. I have declined your offer of friendship once already. To deny a ritual of friendship offered to me now would be unforgivable.”
“Only because there would be nothing to forgive,” Hob replies softly. Before Dream can say anything else, Hob pulls him back into his arms.
“I. Did not mean to upset you,” Dream says tensely.
“You didn’t.” Hob gives him one last firm squeeze before reluctantly releasing him, “Now, my friend,” he says it again in hopes of reassuring Dream, who still looks anxious and lost, “Matthew didn’t say anything about you having ill-effects from our movie nights, yeah?”
Dream hums, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his shoulders, “Indeed. I have been. Enjoying experiencing this new media with you,” his lips twitch towards a smile, “And you promised me an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet tonight.”
Hob groans dramatically, placing a hand on Dream’s back to guide him towards the couch, “The only reason I’m allowing it is because the setting is different enough for me to almost forget it was inspired by that twat Shaxberd.”
“Technically it was inspired by me.”
“Well then sit down and enjoy the fruits of your labor,” Hob laughs, getting West Side Story set up for them to enjoy. The curtains are drawn to cover the glass panes of the windows, there are blankets and pillows strewn across the couch, and there are no snacks or food on the coffee table in front of them. When he looks at him, Hob thinks Dream looks a little… softer. A little more comfortable.
A little more loved.
~~~~~~~
“What’s on the docket today, boss?”
Matthew lands carefully on the Dream King’s shoulder. He had spent what felt like several hours accompanying Mervyn throughout the castle grounds, pestering him with questions and prodding him for stories as he made minor adjustments to the landscape, and now he felt energetic and ready for a task. Sometimes Matthew felt like he was a better raven than a person. If nothing else he was happier as one.
Dream hums as he walks down a quiet path outside the castle, “I must check in on the dreams of light to see how my newest creations among them are settling. And ensure they do not require more added to their numbers.”
The ‘dreams of light’ were how Dream had explained a particular sect of dreams to Matthew. They were created for dreamers who felt as though they were in the deepest darkness, those who saw no hope for themselves. They were dreams meant to inspire and revitalize.
“So they’re like, the light at the end of the tunnel, yeah?” Matthew had responded when Dream had explained.
“Yes,” he had replied with a small smile, “That is not an inaccurate comparison.” Matthew had beamed with pride at understanding a little more of this new realm he called home.
Meeting the dreams of light had been enlightening- pun absolutely intended- in a lot of ways. Mostly, Matthew learned that Lord Morpheus was deeply uncomfortable with them.
He didn’t think it was a matter of him not liking them or anything. But there was something in the way he had walked and held himself when in their presence. It reminded Matthew of how he had felt the first time he had held one of his friends' new baby; utterly adoring, and absolutely certain he was about to break it.
“I can deal with ‘em, boss.”
Dream turns to glance at the raven shuffling on his shoulder, brow furrowed, “I have already stated that I would do so.”
“Yeah, but I know you don’t want to,” Matthew shrugs his wings nonchalantly, “Unless you have some other important raven errand for me, just let me handle them. I don’t mind.”
With a deepening frown- born of confusion rather than displeasure, Matthew notes- Dream raises his arm, and Matthew instinctually hops from his shoulder to his forearm, allowing them to look each other in the eye. “Wants have no authority within my duty. If a task must be done then I shall do it.”
“Uh huh, yeah, I get that,” Matthew nodded, “but does this particular task have to be done by you ?”
“...I. Suppose not.”
“Great! Then delegate! I mean, I’m offering. Those guys don’t bother me the way they do you, so it’s not an issue, really.”
“I have not expressed that they bother me.”
Matthew sighs, shifting from foot to foot a little nervously, “Listen, don’t file an HR complaint for me saying this, but I love you, and so you are not as subtle as you think you are when it comes to being uncomfortable. To me at least.”
There is a long moment of silence as they stare at each other, Dream blinking in surprise, and Matthew tilting his head back and forth out of some strange raven instinct to view his boss from different angles.
“...We do not have an HR department in the Dreaming.”
“I can’t tell if that’s you telling me you are upset or aren’t upset.”
To his shock and awe, Dream smiles. A small huff escapes his lips, the closest to a laugh Matthew has ever heard in his time as his raven. “I am not upset,” he states regally. “Since you are so insistent, I will allow you to run this errand on my behalf.” He makes it sound like he is the one doing Matthew a favor, which doesn’t actually surprise Matthew all that much. Honestly, he finds it kind of endearing.
“Will do, Lord Morpheus!”
He is still smiling as Matthew flies away. It’s not much.
But it’s a start.
~~~~
Matthew is in the middle of debating whether it would be in poor taste to ask to see Jessamy’s book when Lucienne steps into the library, sighing heavily.
“What’s up, boss lady?” Matthew flies over, landing to perch on the back of the chair next to the one Lucienne had fallen into heavily, “Everything alright?”
“Everything is fine, Matthew,” Lucienne smiles, and he can see she looks more “fondly exasperated” than “distraught”. “I simply just came from seeing Lord Morpheus. He is still on the shores of creation.”
It has been almost two weeks since Matthew had checked in on the dreams of light, and had made some rounds among some other groups of dreams and nightmares as well. His report for the Dream King had been similar for all of them: they were doing fine, there was no true trouble, but could still benefit from higher numbers due to the massive increase in dreamers over the past hundred years.
To the surprise of absolutely no one, Dream had taken that as a great personal failure and had immediately set to work creating rapidly and desperately. Last Matthew had checked on him, his fingers had been bleeding. He hadn’t even known that was a thing that could happen to him.
“Any luck?” Matthew asks.
Lucienne hums, and it’s so similar to how Dream does. It amuses Matthew how alike the two were, and he wonders who influenced the other more. “He is taking a brief break,” she very nearly rolls her eyes, “only to ensure that the quality of his work does not suffer from the quantity.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Sighing, Lucienne shakes her head fondly, “I love Lord Morpheus but he can be quite stubborn sometimes.”
Her words have Matthew perking up. To be honest he’s a little surprised he hadn’t thought of this sooner. “Actually, funny that you say that. Want to join a group project to help the boss out?”
~~~~
Lucienne is still pondering Matthew’s words (and there had been a lot of them) when she stumbles upon her lord in the Library. He is seated quietly at a small table tucked in the back, hands folded in front of him. There are no books on the table, and he seems lost in thought. Part of her wonders if she should leave him alone, but…
“Apparently he doesn’t think anyone like, actually loves him. Which honestly kind of explains why he always looks like he’s on the verge of tears. Shit, I’ve felt on the verge of tears since that Hob guy told me about it. Like, I just assumed he knew, y’know? How can he not know?”
“Good evening, Lord Morpheus,” Lucienne greeted with a smile, pulling him from his thoughts as he glanced up at her. Despite whatever he had been mulling over, he still smiles as he looks at her.
“Lucienne,” he dips his head in greeting, “I hope I am not intruding.”
It is his realm. It is him . And yet he still considers this space hers.
“Not in the slightest,” she assures him, “Was there anything I could assist you with? Or were you merely visiting?”
“Visiting,” he confirmed with a nod, “I just returned from the Waking,” he explained, “and I felt the need to. Collect myself, I suppose.”
Humming in consideration, a thought occurs to her, “I cannot help but notice you have been spending quite some time with a particular human in the Waking, my lord,” she teases, “Will we be welcoming a new consort soon?”
Lucienne’s voice is light and fond, a teasing smile on her face, and yet Morpheus’ face still drops. It reminds her of a flower wilting, and his eyes are just a little glassy before he turns his gaze to the floor.
“I apologize,” his words are tense, some mixture of frustration and sorrow.
“Whatever for?”
His eyes dart to glance at her skeptically, “I am aware, as I am sure you are as well, how troublesome my. Amorous pursuits are,” He straightens his back, steeling himself, “I shall restrain myself. You have my word.”
For a moment, Lucienne simply looks at him. He has changed so much, and yet is still so very much the same. In the past, he might not have apologized as he did now. But she recognizes the guilt and shame all the same.
Finally, she steps forward, sitting in the seat across from him, “You have nothing to apologize for.”
He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief, “Surely you resent the burden that comes with my being in love. You have every right to be cross with me for succumbing to such feelings once again.”
“And yet I am not.”
Morpheus lifts his head, looking at her more directly, brow furrowed in confusion, and so she continues, “I have never been upset with you. You love deeply, and that is not a bad thing. I have only ever been saddened to see your heart broken.”
“My heartbreak has always been well deserved,” he insists. “ My pain is just. The injustice is the burden I throw on those around me.” He looks down again, fists clenching, “I bring storms with my sorrow, I lose focus on my duty, I become overwhelmed with both the love and the loss.”
Lucienne hummed, “Those things may be true. But they do not make me love you less.”
His head snaps up so fast she thinks she hears a crack. He is wide-eyed in his disbelief, and it makes her want to cry. Morpheus has been prideful, and stern, and reticent with his words. But it was impossible not to know when Morpheus loved you, whether he said it or not. Even when he lashed out and struggled to grant her more responsibility, Lucienne never doubted Dream’s love for her. It pains her to think that he has not felt the same surety with her love for him.
“You are my lord, and you are my friend,” she states, voice even as she recites simple facts, “and I love you. Not because you do not have flaws, but because there is so much about you to love, and your flaws simply cannot deter me.”
Dream continued to stare, blinking slowly, like trying to solve a puzzle in his head. Eventually, he swallowed thickly, turning his gaze down to his own hands as he admitted softly, “You know me so well. Better than most. I was certain that this knowing could only end in your disdain.”
“Perhaps I know you better than you do,” Lucienne responded, a hint of mischief in her voice that Dream could not help but quirk a smile at.
Tilting his head, he recalled fondly, “Do you remember, so long ago, when the stories of the world were scattered through the Dreaming? Every time a page drifted past us, even if we were giving a tour to an important guest, you would fly after it.”
Lucienne laughed at the memory. She remembers how her feathers fluffed with agitation each time, offended at the chaos of it. Every story, written and unwritten, left to float freely through the dreaming, unbound pages swirling in the wind and catching on branches and pillars. Lucienne could never resist the urge to collect them. “My beak would be so full of pages I could barely see where I was flying.”
“How far you have come,” Dream smiled proudly, glancing at the towering shelves of stories around them, “From your little hoard of collected stories in the corner of the palace. To this.”
“Because you allowed it,” Lucienne pointed out. She had been nervous, when Lord Morpheus first discovered the piles of pages she had brought inside and pushed into the neatest stacks a raven was capable of. It only occurred to her decades later that he must have known from the beginning what she was doing. It was only when she began struggling with the size of her hoard, when she was brought near tears at knocking over one of her precious stacks with a stray wing, that the Dream King ‘found’ it.
And he gave her shelves, and bindings, and hands.
He shook his head, “I believe you would have made it happen regardless. A beakful of pages at a time. I merely made it easier.”
“And do you think that makes it count less?” Dream looked at her, head tilted in confusion, and she could not help but shake her head fondly, “Oh, Lord Morpheus, you can try to downplay your love all you like, but those of us who love you back will always see it regardless.”
There is another pause, his brow furrowed as he seems to consider this. Consider the idea that there are those who see him. They see him because they love him, and the seeing only makes them love him more. She wonders how he will take it. She hopes he doesn’t run away.
He doesn’t. Instead, he dips his head and smiles, “I. Am glad. It would pain me. If you did not know my care for you.”
“I know, Lord Morpheus,” Lucienne reached out, laying a hand over his, “I know.”
Squeezing his fingers just once, she leans back, smirking deviously, “Now,” she adjusts her glasses, keeping her tone light and professional, “tell me more about this human who has caught your attention. I must make sure he is good enough for you, of course.”
When Morpheus laughs, he sounds young, and happy, and loved.
~~~
“My friend,” Hob begins cautiously, “is everything alright?”
Dream has always been quiet, but tonight he is distracted . He seems far away and lost in thought, a furrow in his brow that Hob wants to smooth over with his fingers. There is music playing softly in the background, one of their quiet evenings of sharing stories and Hob gently showing Dream little bits of what humanity had created in his absence. He does not seem upset, exactly, but Hob still worries.
“I. Am fine,” Dream responds stiffly, and Hob can’t help but snort.
“For someone who claims the title ‘Prince of Stories’ you are a terrible liar.”
Dream glares at him, but there is no heat behind it. In fact, Hob is almost certain he sees his mouth twitch as though holding back a smile. Softening, he allows himself to scoot a little closer on the couch, until their legs are just barely brushing. “I’m serious, though,” he repeats, “Are you okay?”
Sighing, Dream glances down at his hands in his lap, “I am fine,” he insists, “I simply…” he takes a long moment to consider his words. When he speaks again, it is in a rush, as though he must push the words out before he loses them, “Matthew and Lucienne claim that they love me.”
Hob blinks, “Oh.” He is both pleased to know that Dream is being told, and confused by Dream’s reaction. “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Looking up at him, Dream looks… ashamed, “They are my subjects,” he explains, “I have power over them. In such a situation, is it not immoral to ask them to love me?”
“ Did you ask?” Hob presses, already knowing the answer, “Or did they choose to love you on their own?”
Dream does not answer, and he does not look comforted either. “And Death,” he ignores Hob’s question, “she has said… but is it not obligation to love your family?”
“It can feel like it sometimes, sure,” Hob answers carefully, “but in reality, no. Family can be complicated, but at the end of the day, love is never an obligation. It is in fact very possible to not love your family. If she loves you it’s because she loves you.”
At first, he doesn’t understand it. Why Dream seems to grow more anxious and fearful with each word Hob speaks in comfort. Hob is trying to reassure him that he is loved and yet his eyes are wide, jaw tense and hands clenched into tight fists. He looks cornered.
He looks, Hob realizes, like Hob himself had as a starving man in the 1600s. Like a man who had been given the barest scraps to keep him alive and was now bracing to have it stolen away.
“And you?” Dream whispers, “You have claimed to love me…” he searches Hob’s face desperately, his voice choked when he finally brings himself to ask, “... Why ?”
“Because it’s true.” Hob reaches out recklessly, because it’s too important not to. He laces their fingers together and leans forward to keep their eyes locked even when Dream tries to look away, “Because I do love you. You, Dream of the Endless. I love your dedication to your work, I love the way you speak, I love explaining humanisms to you. I love how hard you try, how you don’t give up even when you’re convinced you've failed. I love how much you care.”
He could go on forever. Reckless, daring, desperate, Hob lifts his other hand to cradle Dream’s cheek, feeling the way he sucks in a breath at the contact, “I love the look in your eyes when you experience kindness,” he strokes a thumb gently against the skin under Dream’s eye, “and I love you so much that I also hate that look in your eye… as if you’ve never experienced kindness. As if you’re not used to it. As if you don’t know what to do with it. I love you so much, and I want you to be loved more . I want everyone to love you.”
Dream does not need to breathe, and yet his chest is nearly heaving with shaking breaths, each of Hob’s words hitting him like a blow. He has to swallow a few times before he can manage to speak again. “I do not want everyone to love me,” he confesses, “I just…” Hob has never heard him sound so uncertain. So small. Dream has to look away before he is able to continue, “I want the love I have to be true . I know I am too much,” his voice drips with shame, “I know I love too hard. But it is because I want so badly to be loved in return the way I love. I do not require quantity. I just… I want… I want the people I love to love me back.”
Timidly, he looks up at Hob once more, and his voice cracks as he asks, “Is that selfish?”
“No,” Hob answered immediately, “That is very, very human.”
“I am not-”
“You are humanity’s dreams,” Hob interrupts, “And I promise you, humanity dreams of being loved in return.” Leaning forward, he pulls Dream gently closer, until their noses are nearly touching and they are sharing breath, “And you are, you know,” he whispers between them like a secret, “You are loved in return.”
“You cannot know how others feel for me,” Dream argues weakly.
“Perhaps,” Hob cannot help but smirk, “I mean, I do, but I know you won’t accept that. So accept this: I know how I feel for you. And I love you. I’ll say it however many times you need. I love you-”
“Stop.”
Dream’s eyes are clenched shut, and Hob can see the moisture caught on his eyelashes. But he’s not pulling away, and when Hob pulls back, he drifts after him. “I’ll stop talking if you want me to,” Hob offers, “I’ll stop touching you, if it’s too much,” He starts to pull his hands away and the tears finally spill down Dream’s cheeks, “But I won’t stop loving you.”
The words are barely out his mouth when Dream crashes into him. He nearly falls backwards, only just managing to keep them both from toppling over, his hands bracing against Dream to steady them. There is salt on Dream’s lips, and they tremble against Hob’s, and he can taste the words on them as clearly as if Dream had spoken them out loud.
Stay, his kiss begs, Stay, stay, stay.
“I love you, too,” Dream whispers against his lips, his hands curled in Hob’s shirt as though expecting him to pull away.
But Hob only pushes closer, wrapping his arms around Dream’s fragile figure. “I know,” he replies, pressing kisses to his mouth, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, “I know. I know you love me. And I love you back. I promise.”
Holding Dream tight in his arms, Hob knows that he will probably have to convince Dream again tomorrow. He will probably have to convince him again and again and again, and he doesn’t care. He loves him enough to remind him.
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Daily update post:
Remember how I mentioned yesterday that Hezbollah had attacked the Northern Command base? It was announced that Ali Hussein, the commander of that aerial strike on the IDF base, has been eliminated.
Hey, remember how the anti-Israel crowd kept insisting that Israel has turned Gaza into a concentration camp, before this war? The IDF has arrived at the summer home (!) of Marwan Issa, the deputy military commander of Hamas in Gaza, and I am trying to remember a single Jewish slave laborer in Dachau, who had a summer home that looks like this, inside the camp...
(screenshots from a vid in Hebrew here, discussing Marwan Issa, his home, and the way Hamas leaders built their wealth)
This is vital: UN Watch have published a report about the Telegram group of UNRWA teachers, who celebrated the massacre of Oct 7, and prided themselves that this was thanks to the education that the terrorists got...
In the US, Jewish stars have signed a letter addressed to the Academy for Motion Picture, Arts and Sciences, protesting the fact that Jews are not on the list for includion, as one of the marginalized groups that suffer from underrepresentation. I've written way before the war about Jewish representation, and how it has never been good enough. But more than that, Most people are incredibly ignorant about Jews, Judaism, Jewish identity, Jewish history, and even some very basic related facts, such as Jews being native to Israel, or that Jews aren't just white people with a less popular religion. Jews have suffered the longest streak of persecution in human history, the most extreme genocide, and yet we're not even recognized as marginalized and discriminated, which means we're discriminated against even among marginalized groups. It's unfathomable, and it has to change, if the west wants to fight antisemitism, and it has to change NOW.
Idan Amedi's condition, which I posted about in my update post yesterday, is said to have improved, he's regained consciousness, can breathe on his own, and even talked a bit to his family.
This is 62 years old Aviva Siegel.
She's one of the hostages that were released. Yesterday, she went to the Knesset (Israel's parliament), and I got to hear her testimony about the sexual abuse and torture of the young women in captivity in Gaza, which she had witnessed firsthand. Aviva recounted that one young hostage asked to go to the bathroom. When she returned, Aviva could tell something was off. The young woman confirmed to her that the terrorist molested her. Aviva went to comfort the girl, but the Hamas terrorist rapist stopped her with gun threats. "He wouldn't even let me hug her after he raped her," Aviva said. She also shared that there was another young woman who was physically tortured based on the suspicion that she was an IDF officer. Aviva's husband is still held in captivity, for 96 days now.
This is Ronen Engel, with his daughters Mika and Yuval.
On Oct 7, Ronen was murdered, his body is still held hostage in Gaza. Yuval and Mika were kidnapped together with their mother Karina, and the three were released during the hostage deal. Two days ago, during the tragedy with the explosives truck in Gaza in which many soldiers were killed and injured 2 days ago, the Engel's family adopted son, 25 years old Amit Shachar, was killed.
May Ronen and Amit's memories be a blessing.
This was just SO sweet, I had to share. Since the fighting in Gaza started, and some soldiers have been away for months at a time, when they do get to come home, people have shared vids of the reunion joy, and this has to be my personal fave so far:
(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)
#israel#antisemitism#israeli#israel news#israel under attack#israel under fire#israelunderattack#terrorism#anti terrorism#hamas#antisemitic#antisemites#jews#jew#judaism#jumblr#frumblr#jewish
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𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒐 𝒊𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒕
HAH PULLED THIS ONE OUTTA MY ASS and it's kinda shitty too now that I proofread it pls excuse the bad quality writing...
Pairing: Midorima Shintaro x You (Fem Reader) featuring Takao being himself as usual.
Warnings: As usual, curse words but fluff otherwise.
You let out a frustrated scream when your opponent yelled the cursed word that you loved yelling out but absolutely DESPISED hearing from other people.
"UNO!!" Takao cheered, slamming his last card down on the table and putting more salt and squeezing lemon in the wound, his last card was a +4. Your frown deepened with every holler and laugh that came out of the ravenette's mouth as you tightly held onto your 5 remaining cards, and slammed your fist down.
"AGAIN!" You said, glaring daggers at Takao who was still laughing.
"Again what?" Takao asked, reducing to a fit of giggles.
"Oh...You mean another round?"
You seethed, "We're gonna keep playing TILL I WIN,"
The point guard raised his index finger and waved it in a disapproving manner, all with that stupid grin on his face.
"Ah, no. We had a deal. If I lose, I'll be buying you a pink floaty for the class outing next month. But if YOU lose? Ohoho, my condition CLEARLY stated that you, my dear name will be confessing to Shin-chan."
You hate to admit it, but you can't back out now. A deal IS a deal after all. But since you were prideful, you were willing to be a sore loser just to save every bit of dignity that you have.
"Goddamn you, Takao."
"Ah no. Have you seen my face? God blessed me is what it is."
"This is called peer pressure..." You whispered, face now burning up.
The sound of the door sliding open with a slam caught both of your attention as you turned to see Midorima Shintaro himself. He walked towards the table you two are sitting at while carrying his lucky item for the day, a wonder woman figurine. You winced at the quality of the figurine. Not that it was bad, oh no... It was the exact opposite.
The quality was so good you felt severe discomfort watching him lug it around with one hand around such rowdy people. It was probably made of clay too. You shook your thoughts away,
"Hey, Shin-chan!! Guess what?"
"Come on. Coach is gonna have both our heads on a stick if we delay any longer."
The green-haired boy barely paid any attention to you, only focused on making it to practice. In a way, you were kinda glad. This way, you were able to admire him. You always thought he was pretty. Yet he was so unaware of it and when somebody points it out, he brushes it off. Yet if you look more closely, you'd be able to see a faint tint of rose on his cheeks.
"And stop bothering name," He added, looking over to you making you flinch as your eyes met his emerald ones.
"Ah well..." You couldn't really deny it. Takao was such a pain in the ass today.
You averted your eyes as Takao was dragged off his chair by Midorima, seemingly in a hurry.
"Bye...? I guess," You said, waving to them.
"YOU'RE NOT OFF THE HOOK YET, NAME!!"
You let out a puff of breath that you were unaware of holding back, relief spreading through your body. You knew you were only delaying but later is better than now, or so you say. You know Takao would never rat you out, he's not that kind of person. But he would hold you to that promise.
"What the hell did I get myself into...?"
Unbeknownst to you, Takao also played with Midorima. Not basketball, or uno. He played Monopoly with him and if you ask him, nothing's sweeter than seeing the absolute look of defeat on Midorima's usually stoic face. They also had a bet that if Takao lost, he would be lugging Midorima around for a month (They usually play rock, paper, scissors) and if Takao won? You can probably guess.
"So, when are you gonna do it? I mean name is a pretty girl, a lot of people fancy her."
If Midorima would be asked, "where would you rather be right now?" He would answer, "Anywhere. As long as it's away from Takao and his loud mouth".
"Come on, Shin-chan. You look like you wanna leave me hanging here." Takao teased, slapping his back.
"Shut your mouth, Takao. That's precisely what I want to do."
"So mean!"
You find yourself at the mall, 3 days later. You invited the two of them to help you shop for clothes but...
"Sorry name- ACHOO"
You winced, "Come on... Are you really leaving me with him...?"
"Am I so bad of a company that you don't want to be left alone with me?" Another voice joined from behind you,
You whipped around to see Midorima and if you look closer, you could see the dejected look on his face.
Your eyes widened before you waved your free hand around,
"No! That's not what I meant... I mean...Takao, he..."
You could hear the point guard grin on the other side of the line, mentally glaring daggers at him.
"ILOSTABETTOHIMNOWIHAVETOCONFESSMYFEELINGSTOYOUBUTI'MDELAYINGCUZI'MSCAREDYOUDON'TFEELTHESAME" You spit it all out, squinting your eyes shut as you felt all the heat rush up to your face.
Oh, now you've done it. There's no turning back now... Now you know, that Takao planned all of this.
"Fuck you, Takao" You seethed, turning away from Midorima, who was still frozen in place with his face as rosy as Barbie's dreamhouse..
You ended the call as you two stood there awkwardly, your back still facing him whilst he looked at you, trying to contemplate his next move. He pushed his glasses up before he walked up to you,
"Change of plans," He announced, making you look up to him.
"What do you say about going on a date?"
"Midorima, what do you mean?"
He looked back at you, a small smile playing on his lips,
"I'm asking you out."
Your surprised expression turned into your lips upward,
"I say, yes."
𝑴𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
𝑲𝑵𝑩 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
#midorima#shintaro midorima#midorima shintaro#midorima fluff#knb midorima#knb x reader#midorima shintaro x reader#midorima shintarou#midorima x reader#midorima scenarios#midorima headcanons#generation of miracles x reader#gom x reader#knb fluff
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Trey: *Trying to explain Riddle is that way because of his mom*
Me: Give me a minute as I pull up my ‘Trauma Doesn’t Excuse Sh*t Behavior’ PowerPoint.
Say it with me, everyone: an explanation is not an excuse 😊
You know, the other day I was watching one of Ryan George's Pitch Meetings and when Producer Guy asked Writer Guy how the audience would root for the villain of the franchise and the response was "he's handsome" which basically explains most people's reactions to fictional men.
Prepare for incoming rant that has little to do with the ask
This probably might come as a shock because one of the main appeal of twst would be the whole villainous aspect/Disney Villain fanbase but I don't really like villains that much, at least, not romantically. Like don't get me wrong, I think that they're incredible characters and it would be so fun to sit down with one and have a conversation with one. Villain songs are so fun (I was literally singing ‘This Day Aria’ to myself the other day I haven’t heard that song in like a decade) and you can tell that that characters like Scar or Hades or Shere Khan or Jafar or Maleficent are having so much fun being deliciously evil and even the more serious, complex ones like Loki or Frollo are fun to pick apart so yeah I understand the hype. I just always rooted for the heroes and I guess heroic characters have always been more my type.
My mother absolutely loves Erik Destler and is forever salty that Christine chose Raoul (despite my many many attempts at arguing why Raoulstine is the superior couple - smol primary school me could not understand why my mum liked the chandelier dropper and was deeply concerned), my best friend has been in love with Heathcliffe since we were eleven, and my little sister has literally told me that her type of fictional men are the toxic red flags (not exactly word for word but she did explain why she likes bad boys over good boys when I was complaining about how my type (wholesome soft boys) always get sidelined for the arrogant, snarky bad boys - we're also very diametrically opposed on our views of friends to lovers (my s++ tier all time favourite and her loathing) vs enemies to lovers (I can't really stand it - Pride and Prejudice is the only exception - and that's literally all she consumes) so that might also be a reason).
Like, I understand the appeal of a Byronic hero (Mr Darcy has far too much power) - a closed off, broody man that hates everything but you? And will burn down the world to keep you warm? I can respect that there are people who dig that. But their not really for me.
The mild bout of insanity thirteen year old me had where I spent two months attracted to Edward Rochester is an outlier and should not have been counted (though that was during my wattpad phase so...)
But I can admit that I have yet to shake off my feelings for Dr Henry Jekyll, Victor Frankenstein and Dorian Gray (though to be fair, Mr Gabriel John Utterson the lawyer and cinnamon roll artist boy Basil Hallward do own my heart). And yes, Jeremy Jordan did make me question my morality as he did make my feelings for Light Yagami be too positive to be sane for a brief moment (Touta Matsuda is still my man, don't worry). But apart from them, literally all of my faves are what you'd call your traditional, morally upright heroes.
Basically what I'm saying is that my perception might be skewed because I've never had the whole 'villains are cooler' mindset when it came to stories. Yes, I love the villains as characters but I always liked their heroic foils more (goodness is just so attractive to me). You get lots of amazing heroic protagonists that have horribly tragic backstories and they're the ones I always fall for because the idea of being a kind sweetheart despite the world being anything but is just *chef's kiss* that's a kind of strength that's so swoon-worthy.
I guess that's why it's harder for me to look past the characters' actions in twst is because, well, they chose to do everything they did. They made a conscious choice to be terrible, despite understanding the consequences. Riddle may have been brainwashed into becoming a tyrant by his mother but he still admitted that he knew he was being horrible - he understands the concept of morality, of good and bad, and he willingly and deliberately did everything he did.
I suppose this text post I found on Pinterest would explain my point better:
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Anonymous asked: anything around Wymack and Kevin having father son bonding or something like that.
Our fandom loves Dadmack! -A
NB: find the original ask here in this new twinyards bonding post
previous recs for Kevin & Wymack:
Kevin & Wymack 1 here
Kevin & Wymack 2/Kevin with a child here
post canon Kevin & Wymack here
Wymack raising Kevin here
Kevin & Wymack paternity convo here
‘domestic bliss’ here
‘Somewhere Other Than Here’ here
‘the prince in the raven tower’ here
‘And Then There Was One’ here
‘How You Live On,’ ‘Missed Signs (accepting help),’ and ‘how did i get here’ here
‘A Record of Life,’ ‘Welcome,’ ‘Home,’ A Dad By Any Other Name’ and ‘Those days we rise above the stars’ here
‘Call it new’ here
‘Searchlights’ here
you may also like:
‘Right Where It Begins’ here
‘The Way We Are’ (completed) here
‘Oh my Queen, we are here again’ (strained relationship) here
‘quicksand’ here
‘lionblood (flowin' through my veins)’ here
‘Made of Stone’ here
‘the name of the game’ here
‘The Cards We're Dealt’ (updated) here
Father’s Day, ‘08 by rekikiri [Rated G, 1717 Words, Complete, 2023]
twenty two years late, kevin finally gets to spend a fathers day with wymack.
tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism
unexpected pride by teddy_writes_not_ted_talks [Rated T, 959 Words, Complete, 2023]
Part 1 of Disability Pride Oneshots (etc), NB: part 8 is Wymack-centric
Kevin Day struggles with staying grounded in a body that doesn't always feels like his. He learns that sometimes all you need to do is ask for help.
The first in a series of Disability Pride Month fics.
tw: dissociation, tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced abuse
the lovers, the dreamers and me by dayurno [Rated G, 26315 Words, Complete, 2023]
“Coach,” Neil starts, parsing the words in his head to digest them into something more believable.
Fortunately, before Neil further makes himself sound insane in front of his father-in-law, the door to Coach Wymack’s office swings open, revealing Andrew with a small child tangled in his legs. Andrew is as blank-faced as always, but the child peers at the room warily, his eyes big and green.
Even without words to introduce him, they all know who this is. Coach Wymack audibly sucks in a breath.
Alternatively, when the adult Kevin Day regresses in time to his six-year-old self, the Palmetto State Foxes are forced into a state of disarray. It is as the saying goes: it takes a village to raise a child.
tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: disordered eating
And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright by Harmonique [Rated G, 3181 Words, Complete, 2023]
Part 3 of AFTG whump, part 2 here
Kevin is sick, but it's fine. He's been raised in the Nest, he's not allowed to be weak.
He'll be fine.
(he won't :) )
tw: vomit, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced abuse
Consequences of Coaching by Bookworm1063 [Rated G, 4812 Words, Complete, 2022]
Sometimes, the line between being an Exy coach and being a parent is very thin indeed.
Or, five times Wymack was more father than coach, and one time being a coach had nothing to do with it.
Cats In The Cradle by emmerrr [Rated T, 2019 Words, Complete, 2017, Locked]
“Maybe you should go down there,” Abby says. “Keep him company for a little while.”
David takes a long sip of his coffee without breaking eye-contact with Abby. She acts casual, but David knows what she’s getting at. “I’m sure he doesn’t want me getting in the way,” he says.
“David,” Abby says gently, then seems to struggle to figure out what she wants to say next. “It’s just — have you spent any time with Kevin alone at all since finding out he was your son?”
an imperfect picture is still just right by belncaz [Rated T, 3784 Words, Complete, 2017]
After Wymack learns Kevin is his son, Kevin leaves to go on vacation with the other Foxes. Here's what I imagine happens on David's end as he grapples with a new part of his identity.
The truth in the dark by KweenKevin [Not Rated, 489 Words, Complete, 2018]
Part 3 of Does that make me crazy?, part 5 here
The truth is this: all Kevin ever learned was Exy, and were he used to play for his mother, he now a new person to play for
let me know what piece i've lost by orphan_account [Rated G, 799 Words, Complete, 2018]
Having a son was a new thing to Wymack. A new, very confusing thing. Kevin was a, and he would say this reluctantly through gritted teeth, fully grown adult.
An Understanding by wesawbears [Rated G, 730 Words, Complete, 2016]
The conversation between Kevin and Wymack when Kevin finally gives him the letter and tells him the truth in The King's Men.
trans Kevin and Dadmack prompt fill by @willowbird [Tumblr Fic, 2023]
Dad’s trip bullet fic by @jeanmoreaudefensesquad [Tumblr, 2022]
Sign language education! Dadmack by @this-is-my-main-i-follow-from [Tumblr, 2021]
wymack getting married and wanting to have another child + kevin’s reaction hc by @gthechangeling [Tumblr, 2020]
Kevin thoughts on his father meta by @robincross [Tumblr, 2017]
Art
let me and Andrew do the talking and My father comes to all of my games art by @rainbowd00dles
endless list of families-david wymack & kevin day edit by @mint-and-memories
They all deserve a different childhood art by @masslowart
#1 Dad and Dadmack art by @nerdzewordart
#fic#kevin day & david wymack#kevin day & the foxes#kevin day/neil josten/andrew minyard#abby winfield/david wymack#universe: post canon#universe: canon compliant#au: kid fic#au: age regression#theme: secret identities#theme: families#theme: parenting#theme: alcoholism#theme: fluff & angst#theme: sickfic#theme: trauma#theme: ptsd#theme: mental health issues#theme: emotional hurt/comfort#theme: hurt/comfort#tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism#tw: implied/referenced abuse#tw: vomit#tw: nightmares#tw: ptsd#tw: dissociation#tw: disordered eating
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Pride Month Triple Feature: Monthly Muppets Madness: Muppet Babies 2018: Gonzorella
Happy pride! Usually pride is a pretty big to do on this blog, with my first pride here being also my first pride publicly as a bisexual man. But with my move pretty much every review I had planned for this month got thrown around. So to make up for it i'm condensing my pride plans into one day. Two shorter reviews and one longer review that i've been trying to do since the first pride, and seems the most timely given everything going on.
So with that it's time for Monthly Muppet Madnesss yayyyy. The plan here was changed as with a lot of longer reviews originally planned.. I just wasn't up to doing Return to Labyrinth quite yet. I still plan to, in or outside of pride, but I realized it didn't really FIT the season the way the original movie did.
So instead we're going to daycare for this one as we look at the muppet babies reboot. I finally watched some with my young nephew a month or two back while watching him, and honestly.. it's a delight. I can't say how it compares to the original as I watched maybe two episdoes as a kid as it was before my time, though i'm sure i'll be covering some of it eventually, but the reboot is a lovely preschool show. Admitely like most preschool shows it has to be simple: our heroes have some sort of dillema young kids can learn from, they work through it, usually with the help of Nanny(this time played by the incomprable and wonderous Jenny Slate), and we all have a laugh or two. It's not bad, it's just not clearly meant for a 31 year old man, and that's fine. My 2 year old nephew, whose in the target age range, loved it. Not every cartoon has to aim for both adults and kids, and there's still a ncie nod here or there for the adults who do watch.
As for this episode in paticular, this one I found while trying to see if the Muppets had done anything related to the Transgender community, as I felt i'd neglected them in previous prides and it was time to rectify that. They hadn't as far as I could tell.. but they did do this episode, in which Gonzo wants to wear a dress, and said episode is not only wholesome and heartwarming.. but also brings up a larger issue kids have been facing lately.
As most of you reading this defintely know the right's faviorite new weapon is accusing trans and gender non conforming folks, as well as non binary, gender fluid, and genderqueer persons, of "grooming" children. Which is a fancy and douchey way of saying
While the right has naturally captalized on this as their new boogieman. It's why gender affirming care has been banned several places and why the world truly and clearly sucks right now.
So naturally a muppet preschool show just casually saying "it's fine to wear a dress if your a boy" without slapping a label on what Baby Gonzo is just yet... got a lot of the same bollocks. And it's just.. depressing honestly. Disgusting, horrible and hard to stomach, also yes, but mostly depressing that they can't just.. accept that gender has ALWAYS been complicated, it's just now many a person, many who likely always felt lost, know what to call themselves. This isn't some RADICAL NEW CONCEPT, it's just society finally acknowledging that gender isn't binary or assigned at birth. It's why i'm GLAD that more and more kids content like this is making it clear to kids whose parents may not be accepting for very stupid reasons.. that no, your normal.
So as for the episode itself like most Muppet Babies 2018 episodes the premise is a pretty simple dillema of the week: Piggy and Summer are having a princess party based on an old book that says just how it should go. For those less familiar with this version of the series, Summer is an original character, a purple pengy. She fits right in though and i'd honestly love to see her grown up self join the rest of the muppets someday. I mean Skeeter eventually got there via the comics. We also get Rizzo, who lives in the walls of the daycare and shows up ocasoinally to hang out giving us the story of cinderella.
This naturally comes into play given the title: the book says boys dress up at knights and girls as princesses, but Gonzo wants to wear a frilly dress. Gonzo also feels like the perfect charater to do this: he's always been the outsider of the group, someone who on the outside is full of confidence but on the inside is full of self doubt. So having him WANT to simply wear a dress but be too scared of loosing his friends to is a good narrative for him. We know they probably woudln't care or if anyone did the rest would stand up for him, but for a tiny child wanting to wear a dress when boys have typically not done that, it could be scary, not helped again by the many grown people telling them their brainwashed and they don't know what they know. Just as I relate to the adult gonzo, a small child can relate to Gonzo's fears of not being accepted. Hell when I came out as bisexual, i was terrified my family wouldn't accept even though I had zero reason to think they'd be assholes about this and they've been nothing but loving and accepting. It can be hard to be who you are for an adult who knows that most people in their life will accept them, I can't imagine what it'd be like for a small kid.
Rizzo becomes his fairy god rat, and helps him become gonzorella, but tells him the spare wears off at cake o clock, because tha't when they have cake and my brain will just accept that because i'm stretched for time.
The episode goes pretty stock from here: Piggy and Summer try to stick to the book, Gonzo does something Gonzo like make a chicken themed crown or bust a move on the dance floor during a boring ballroom dance, it makes it better, they see "hey being diffrent isn't so bad". It's as subtle as brick to the head.. but it's also for kids around 2-6, ones whose own parents may tell them nto to be so "different", so I can see why subtley isn't really needed and the show still treats kids smartly enough to not feel like it's talking down to them, which is something I feel is necessary in a kids show of any audience. It just tells a story with a moral and while the moral is obvious, it's one kids need to hear and MANY adults need to hear.
Naturally gonzo has to run out, his neighbor has been kidnapped... and also the spell is running out. But I like the nice twist: instead of our heroes seeking out our cindy stan din, Gonzo realized he dosen't LIKE having to hide and Rizzo enrouages him that since they liked the other diffrent stuff.. they might like this after all, and Gonzo reveals he likes wearing dresses... and everyone accepts it. Most touchingly Piggy fully apologizes, realizing she made him feel bad and deciding
We get a dance party ending and ew're out
So yeah this episode is good. I didn't have much to say because i'ts both short and not exactly something I need to deeply dive into to understand, but still VERY good for kids, and for muppets fans alike. Thanks for reading
#pride month#gender nonconforming#transgender#genderqueer#gonzo the great#gonzorella#monthly muppets#kermit the frog#miss piggy#summer penguin#rizzo the rat
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hey guys! no real status update today, but i dunno. i guess i kinda wanna talk about what pride means to me, as someone who's kind of...stumbled along, i guess?? idk if this is something that'll even resonate with people, but i figured i'd talk today anyway because lulu's a lil tuckered out from trainin' and bouton and bluebell are asleep
so, i guess i should start by saying i'm amab!! i haven't actually really been like...a boy, though, for any really big part of my life that i can remember. my old parents had like, maybe one or two images in an old photograph or somethin', but i think it was around when i was...four, i wanna say, that my mom was throwing away an old dress and i asked if i could have it. because it was a really pretty and nice white sundress!! mom and dad were both a lil confused at first, but mom wound up fixing it up for me and let me wear it, and then i just never really stopped
i think it was around the time my parents kept lulu that they talked to me about like...being a girl, and asked if that was something i wanted! and i remember saying yes, because i thought that was cool!! my parents weren't the greatest in the world, but that's one of the things that they always supported me on, was what i wanted to present as. i guess it could'a been practical too, since mom had old clothes she could repurpose and saw it as an opportunity, but they were really kind about that much, at least. and i went by lauren a lot at that time
...i imagine that makes my eventual choice of just goin' by ren real creative in context, since i really just evolved into who i am today by cutting more and more letters out of my name, heehee. but i dunno! i like it, and i think that's what matters.
to be honest, i didn't really know what being nonbinary was until after my parents left and...honestly, right around the time i started applying for jobs, when i was 18. when i was at uva, even when i was presenting as a girl, something always felt...kinda weird and wrong? like that he/him was never going to be right, but that she/her also didn't feel right. i wasn't sure what it was until i found the words for it later in life, and i'm honestly all the happier for it!! but i still consider laurent and lauren a part of me, in a way? they're like. chapters of my life, people in my life that i'm not anymore, but who i'm glad i got the chance to be, and evolve from :) in a way, at least
so um!! i guess the big thing i super wanna say is like...no matter what happens, it's always okay to question what you are!! you don't gotta pick and stick to something now, and if you find something and it doesn't fit, that's okay!! that's what bein' a person's all about, isn't it? we're constantly exploring what we are, and no matter what we find at the end of our road, as long as we're happy, that's what matters!!
i hope you guys all have a wonderful pride month <3 whether you're still waiting to spread your own wings, or have already spread them wide, or are lookin' to wait for a new molt, i wish you all happiness and wonderful things and wonderful days upon you!
#pokeblogging#pkmn irl#pokemon irl#ren talks#pride#pride talk#long post#gosh i sure went on a ramble#sorry about that everyone lmao!!
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hi!!! What are the reactions of Bakugo and Midoriya to a childhood friend y/n who has no quirks? She always defended Izuku, because she was physically strong and agile, y/n said that she could become a hero and prove that a hero is not someone with a strong quirk, but someone who is strong in spirit and ready to help people! And when Bakugo and Izuku get into Class A, they see y/n coming into class. It turned out that she scored the same number of points as Bakugo.
hi!!! What are the reactions of Bakugо and Midoriya to a childhood friend y/n who has no quirks? She always defended Izuku, because she was physically strong and agile, y/n said that she could become a hero and prove that a hero is not someone with a strong quirk, but someone who is strong in spirit and ready to help people! And when Bakugou and Izuku get into Class A, they see y/n coming into class. It turned out that she scored the same number of points as Bakugo.
"Haha! I see fate itself tells us to be heroes together!! "
A/N: okay i'm actually so sorry this took so long to post when I just wrote this all tonight- I've had such bad burnout and trying to write things I love but then end up deleting them. this was actually supposed to be posted a few days ago but my computer crashed and deleted everything :,) I hope you still enjoy this!!
Reader: she/her pronouns used, could still be interpreted for all genders if ya want🤷
cw: cursing, bullying, discrimination, violence?
Y/N had known Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya since the three of them were small children. All of their parents were close friends before they were born, so naturally, they would spend a lot of time together.
Bakugo was always a hot-headed, arrogant, and stuck-up child. He "playfully" belittled Y/N and Midoriya. The green-haired boy was much sweeter, albeit much quieter. The trio explored the outdoors a lot and were usually spotted by each other's sides on a daily basis. They were best friends.
That is until Bakugo received his quirk. His cockiness and pride shot up and suddenly he no longer wanted to be friends with quirkless people like Midoriya and Y/N. A flip inside him switched. Now, he was downright cruel to both of them. He even began to refer to Midoriya as "Deku".
One day, months into this childhood torment, Y/N spotted Midoriya at the playground, surrounded by Bakugo and his new friends. She ran right up to her best friend and defended the boy who had been shoved down onto the ground.
"Leave him alone, Kacchan! Stop being so rude to us! Just because we have quirks doesn't mean we're any less of people." she watched as Bakugo laughed and sneered.
"Hah, stupid Y/N, you two are so worthless. You'll never be heroes without quirks!" Everyone around him laughed.
Midoriya stood up and grabbed Y/N's hand. "Let's go, Y/N." She almost protested but complied when she saw that he was bleeding and would be bruised.
"Fine," she walked him to his home.
*Twelve (12) Years Later* (also switching over to hcs for their reactions, hope that's alright<3)
Bakugo
-He knew he would get into UA, there was no doubt about it. After all, he was Katsuki Bakugo.
-What he didn't expect, however, was to see Y/N and that weak Deku in as well. Both of them were quirkless losers! How had this happened?!
-"What the- how the hell did you both manage to get in? You're quirkless weaklings!"
-Y/N smiled and winked. "Guess I'm just that strong! I actually managed to score 77 points. That's how many you got, right? Maybe reconsider the 'weak' part. You don't need a quirk to be a hero!"
-He grumbled and stomped away. He was pissed. More than pissed- he was livid. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He was stuck training to become a Pro Hero with two quirkless 'losers'.
Midoriya
-He couldn't believe it. He had a quirk. Albeit, it wasn't his own, but still! And, he passed the entrance exam!! Things just couldn't get better for him.
-Until they did.
-He saw Y/N in her uniform on the first day and practically jumped on her out of excitement.
-"Y/N!!!!! Oh my goodness, are you really here?! Are you in my class?"
-"1-A! We're going to be heroes, Midoriya!" She put off her questions about his performance in the entrance exam. I mean, what was that power he demonstrated? Did he finally receive a quirk?
-"Haha! I see fate itself tells us to be heroes together!!" He giggled and hugged her again. He couldn't be more happy.
#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#katsuki bakugo#izuku midoriya#x reader#x reader platonic#hc format at the end#headcanons kinda?#ask#answered ask
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"I’m gonna go so far as to say that the insanity of the pandemic and being apart for as long as they were and having seen/dated other people briefly really really made them mature even more and understand/realize what they truly wanted out of life and that they were all in it before Atlanta."
I would add the Emmy too he was always so proud of everything she did and when he saw her being nominated and he wasn't participating in that moment with him he felt like he was missing such an important phase of her life. They always admired each other so much and with everything anon said before they were also always best friends and were in a strange mood I think they didn't want to miss any important moment in each other's lives anymore
That's a good point Anon.
You know, one thing that's always been so interesting to me about this whole Tomdaya 2.0 second chance relationship, is the fact that by the time Tom reached out to Zendaya regarding her Emmy nod, both of them may have thought that the other had fully moved on, and were each in love with other their respective partners. 😔
Let's face it, Zendaya had been traveling all around the world with JE for months, had even been spotted kissing him in public (smthg fans thought she would NEVER EVER do), and Tom was already living with Nadia for months, and had already posted her to his IG at least once by that point.... Both Tom and Z could have felt like the other was totally in love with their new partner, and had totally fallen out of love with them (Tom/Z) completely.
So for Tom to still reach out to Z, even though he still had feelings for her deep down, and even though he knew that she was still (I'm assuming in his mind) dating JE and seeming "serious" with him, that takes a LOT of humility and love and care for another person to be able to reach out to them and congratulate them on their big nomination moment! 😭
And Z herself could have figured that Tom had already moved on since he was posting his new gf on Instagram, and probably always wanted to be in a rlshp that was a bit more "normal" all along. So Z, also still secretly having feelings for Tom deep down could have been like, "why do I need to respond to him? He's got a gf already, and we're no longer together, so I don't really need to give him the time of day....". But she didn't do that! She too had the humility and the love to respond back to him, and to even LIKE one of the pics he posted about his gf, and to show her support for him, even though (EVEN THOUGH!!) she knew deep down that she still loved him. 😭😭
These two really love each other DEEPLY in order to overcome pride, hurt feelings, and their own personal feelings of love for each other in order to reconnect amicably and still put on a happy face, even though deep down their own hearts might have been breaking a little bit, thinking that the other was totally in love with someone else. 🤧
That will never cease to amaze me.... 😭❤🥰
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let's read rgu chapter 20
Sorry for the late, late update, got a bit distracted today. I'd just push it back to tomorrow, but this liveblog turned into a sort of accidental pride month project, and I don't want to miss the last day of June.
I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but somewhere along the way, probably the same time the scans went to all two-page-spreads, we went from a fan translation to what seems to be the official English localization, and, as much as I respect the hard work and dedication of fan translators, the professional translation work is greatly appreciated.
Anyway, last time Utena won her rematch with Touga. New Hallmate? wait, have they moved into Akio's building, like in the manga's 3rd arc?
Psh, oh yeah. I guess Touga lives here now.
This is ridiculous, and I love it.
Oh, yeah, why don't you be useful for once and dump some exposition?
Did we skip over the exposition, or?
You know what, I don't care, this whole development is hilarious. The entire student council defeated, now following Utena around like imprinted ducklings. And Utena, embarassed, just stomping forward, her fists clenched at her side, just trying to ignore them. God, these nerds. This is great. Manga redeemed.
At least this domesticated Touga has the courtesy to ask Anthy to leave the room first instead of just talking about her like she isn't there.
Anyway, now we get the exposition. I guess Touga just wanted a full audience first. Key points of the exposition:
The duels are over. Utena won.
The point of the duels was to gain the power of the Sword of Dios
Because the Sword of Dios somehow grants access to the castle/Dios itself
Dios may or may not be a real person, but regardless has power over the movement of the stars, and can therefore change fate/destiny and thus 'revolutionize the world'.
World's End organized the duels to gain this power for himself, and Touga believes he will take action to manipulate or control Utena.
We also get a much more overt warning to Utena not to trust Anthy. Something Touga tried to say in the anime, but with far less explanation and far less reason to listen to him since it was only after his final defeat in the duels and thus easy to dismiss as sour grapes.
Touga's clearly still trying to get access to the power of Dios himself by getting close to Utena, he basically says as much, so still hard to take the warning seriously.
Despite being sent out of the room, Anthy heard everything, and she urges Utena not to team up with Touga against World's End, and Utena, in an uncharacteristic show of interpersonal insight, picks out that Anthy has been betraying this mysterious organizer of the duels rather than the duel champion the entire time.
Anthy is showing quite a bit of fear towards her brother here, something we didn't really see earlier. I guess it's more fear for what he might do to Utena, which I guess makes sense.
The next day Anthy's warnings start coming true, as Akio's first warning shot comes in the form of a fire at Wakaba's dorm.
Fuck you, Akio. Wakaba is a saint, if anything happens to her.
Wakaba's trapped inside and Utena rushes in to save her, but the doors are jammed and both girls are trapped by the fire and smoke.
Akio rescues Utena, of course, and she starts to suspect he's her prince. Rightly this time, unlike with Touga, but Akio is just there to exploit it all the same.
Most important panels of the chapter: Wakaba is OK.
The chapter ends with a confirmation that yes, Akio set the fire. Oh, and he's World's End, just in case anybody missed that. Threatening Wakaba does draw some heat, if you'll pardon the pun, but honestly I half expected that he would have made Anthy set the fire. Doing his own dirty work seems a bit beneath the Akio I know from the anime.
But still, we have a proper villain now, since the manga really never wanted Touga to fill that roll. We're still seeing new stuff happen, so I'm excited to see where the manga goes next.
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Can't Think Straight ~Pt. 1~
I always thought of myself as a normal person. Just a regular 17-year-old girl going to school and trying not to fuck up her life. A girl with a few-but good friends, good grades, excellent parents, and an awesome boyfriend. Like I said, I always thought I was normal, just like anyone else. But…There’s this thing, this…feeling, like there’s something wrong. Most of the time I choose to ignore it, as long as I can move on with my day as usual.
Everything was going according to my schedule: Wake up. Take a shower. Have breakfast with my family. Go to school. Do homework with my friends and finally, hang out with my boyfriend. Until the point where I saw a moving truck parked in the garage of the house next to mine, which normally isn’t something weird but…
“Oh, new neighbors!” said my boyfriend, Matt. “We should go say hi, Annie.” The thing about this town is that it’s so small, every time someone new moves in everyone finds out and tries to investigate every little detail about them, which leads to gossip around the town. Only a few families that have lived here for generations are the ones that still stay in Murkwell Valley for the rest of their life. That was the case of my family. The Watsons have lived in this town for 10 generations and the current Watsons have no intentions of leaving. My parents: Robert and Galena Watson, had dated since high school and, according to them, always thought of getting married once Dad finished college. By the time they were my age, they had already planned their whole future together; and they always make it a point to remind me that I should do the same.
Me? I don’t even know what to study in college, how the heck am I supposed to think about getting married right now? I don’t know if Matt is planning for us to have a future together either. Dad always talks about the way Mom looked the first time he saw her: long dark-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. He says he just knew he had to marry her. Mom remembers Dad as a tall, black haired bad-boy with gray eyes and that it was love at first sight. Dad says I look just like Mom, but with some of his facial features. My sister, on the other hand, looks exactly like Dad, and my brother looks like Mom. I’m more like a combination of the two of them. That being said, Matt and I have only dated for like 3 months and my parents act like he is the one who will carry me to the altar.
“Ok, let’s go just to say hi, then we can go home.” I said, a little tired. I just wanted to go to sleep after the hard day I had at school with all the preparations for the school’s Pride Dance for the anniversary of its founder, and college counseling to help with choosing the right major; but Matt was too nice to just ignore the new people next door. We started walking towards the truck, when we saw a fluffy dog running in our direction trying to get away from its owner.
I kneeled and grabbed the runaway dog. As I was trying to look for its tag among all the fur, a girl’s voice caught my attention.
“Hey! That’s my dog!” When I turned to look at her, I went into shock. The girl looked my age but had bobbed, curly, colorful hair, with the right side shaved off. She also had a little piercing on her nose, sky-blue eyes and pale skin. The word that came to my mind was “beautiful”. I had never seen a person that looked like that in this town, since everyone is VERY catholic, we're usually not allowed to dye our hair or pierce our skin. She looked so cool. “Sorry, I was returning from a walk to calm his energy, but it seems he needed a longer walk”
“Oh, don’t worry, I was just catching him for you” I said as I laughed awkwardly and scratched my head. “That’s a beautiful dog,” I added. For someone who is leader of the welcome committee at school, I suck at social interactions with new people, but since I pretty much already know everyone here, I don’t have the necessity of introducing myself that often.
She smiled at me and then looked at the dog. “Yeah, he is pretty cute. It’s a Finnish Spitz, aka a domestic fox,” She laughed “The downside to the breed is its energy.” Once the dog was secured with its leash, she got up and waved at us. “Hi! You must be our neighbors” The girl extended her hand at me. “I’m Minerva, but my friends call me Mina!” She smiled as I grabbed her hand. “And you are…?” She’s so formal.
“Oh! My name is Annabelle, but I go by Annie” Her eyes looked so deep, yet so soft as they gazed back at me. A strange thought came to my mind, but quickly disappeared when Matt shook her hand.
“I’m Matt, Annie’s boyfriend.” Her smile dropped for a second, but came back again as she looked at me. What was that about? “Welcome to Murkwell Valley, Mina.”
“Thanks for the welcome. It’s nice to know the neighbors are friendly” She kept her eyes on me with a big smile. “And thank you, for catching my dog, I owe you one.”
“Oh, I was just worried that it would run onto the street and get hit or something, you don’t owe me anything” I said, while playing nervously with the edge of my sweater sleeves. She then continued to insist, saying her conscience wouldn’t allow the savior of her ‘precious baby’ go unrewarded. “Ok then, you can pay me back by coming for dinner at my house.” I suggested, but quickly added “-you can bring your family, of course. That way our parents can meet and talk before the other neighbors organize a welcome party and make things awkward by asking a bunch of questions” Her face lit up and nodded. “Great! Dinner at eight, hope you can make it.”
“I’ll tell my parents right away. See you later, Annie.” For some reason, the way she said my name left me feeling weird, as I saw her jump back to her house being followed by her dog. Well, that interaction didn’t go as badly as I imagined. Maybe there’s hope for my awkwardness after all. I’m actually glad we ran into each other, and I hope to get to know more about her…
“What a sweet girl, I hope you can make friends with her!” Matt brought me back from whatever I was thinking, into reality. I shook my head to clear my mind and looked at him. “What happened? You spaced out for a second there.”
“Sorry, I must be mentally beat after today. Volunteering to help Ms. Matisse grade papers was seriously a terrible idea” Matt giggled as he took my hand and walked me back to my house. “You can come to dinner too if you want, babe.” I said hopefully.
“Ehm… I think I’ll pass. The boys invited me to a pre-game party to prepare for this year’s Battle of Murkwell Valley High. Lots of schools from different towns are coming to challenge the current winning team. Us. I even heard a school from the big city is coming.” The big city was actually the state’s capital, Kingsham, but we in the town call it that because there’s only small towns around it and no other city. Matt left a kiss on my forehead and smiled, “Besides, you can start getting to know your new neighbor. You have been a little sad since Holly went to see her mom for the holidays.” I appreciated Matt’s attempt of making me feel better, but I had forgotten Holly left since I had too many things to do, and meeting Mina just now had also cleared my mind of any thoughts. Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. As our lips touched, all the weird thoughts in my mind cleared out, except for one, preventing me from totally enjoying my boyfriend’s embrace.
“Ok, I’ll try to be her friend.” I said with a big sigh because I knew he wouldn’t let the situation go until I caved in. “I love you, babe.” He let out a nervous laugh, probably because he still wasn’t ready to say it back, even when he said it was fine that I said it first.
“I… should go. Gotta help mom with some things before I go to the meeting” I thought it was a party? Whatever, I’m not gonna say anything. He let go of his embrace and quickly grabbed his thing and left. I stood outside the door until I saw Matt leave the street of my house, then I went back in, just to find my parents in the living room watching a movie. I went past them, leaving a kiss on their cheeks and walking towards the kitchen, where my food was in the fridge, waiting for me to reheat it since I got out of school late.
Once I was done washing my plate, I stayed in the living room, chatting with my parents about school and other stuff for a few hours. They asked if Matt had already invited me to the dance, to which I said yes, knowing full well that he didn’t want to come in the first place because he thought it was boring and a waste of time, even though he was aware I was one of the people organizing the damn thing. Nevertheless, I felt that if I said anything he wouldn’t pay attention, like he does when I try to tell him how I feel.
Later in the day I went upstairs to get ready for dinner. I told my mom as I was going up that I invited the new neighbors over to get to know them, she didn’t seem to mind and started to cook dinner for more people. Gotta love her ability to adapt to a change of plans. On my way to my room, I said ‘Hi’ to my brother, who had his door open and just waved at me; and to my sister, who only responded by closing her door.
When I was in my room, I quickly took a shower and started to look in my closet for possible options to wear tonight. I narrowed it down to two dresses. One was pink with white flowers on it, the other one was red with black details at the bottom. I decided the pink one was too girly, so I grabbed the red dress and got changed.
As I was putting on a red bra, I noticed the window in the house next to mine had the lights turned on. When I took a closer look, I realized it was Minerva’s room, since I could see the jacket she was wearing today hanging by the door. My face suddenly turned red at the thought of that girl watching me change. I dressed as fast as I could, then I went to see if she was in her room, but Mina wasn’t there.
Since I was already dressed for dinner, I just sat down next to the window while I analyzed the things I saw in her room. There was a shelf with a lot of books, some boxes with the labels “make up” and “winter clothes”, her bed with blue sheets and her laptop on top of it. Multiple band posters were already up on the walls and some weird plushies adorned her desk. She clearly had a busy morning setting up her room. I also saw her dog’s bed in the corner with the word “Zero” stitched to the front, but as I was looking at it, the door opened. Her dog walked in like it owned the place, then Mina walked in wearing just a towel around her body and another on her hair. My face lit up red again, making me throw myself to the ground so she couldn’t see me.
Once the awkwardness went away, I decided to take a quick look, just to see if she’d noticed me on the window. I slowly raised my head, hoping she didn’t notice how creepy I was being, just to find her looking at dresses like I was doing moments ago. That’s when I realized she was just as nervous as me to have dinner tonight, even if it was with our whole family. I figured making friends was probably difficult for her. Mina looked just as nice as she was this afternoon, the only thing different was the fact that she was still wearing only a towel. Just as that thought crossed my mind, she turned her head around towards the window, forcing me to close the drapes in panic. I don’t know if she saw me or not, but I wouldn’t blame her if she changed her mind about coming to dinner…
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This is gonna be a long story that I hope I can continue to update and not leave unfinished like all of my other works lmao
With the help of a dear friend serving as my editor, I'll make sure to write a few chapters in advance to keep posting regularly <3
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The Bad Guys Season 1: Our Own Story (chapter 35) - Insecurity
First
Previous
Next
Luckily for me, it's Pride Month, so, starting with this chapter, the rest of the story was about the LGBTQIA+ representation of the Bad Guys. Pride will be also mentioned in this chapter.
I hope you like this new chapter. Get ready!
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Intro
Mr. Wolf: Yeah! I'm bad!
Mr. Snake: You're bad!
Ms. Tarantula: He's bad!
Mr. Hornet: She's bad!
Mr. Piranha: We're bad!
Mr. Shark: Who's bad?
The Bad Guys: Yeah!
We're the Bad Guys!
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In the Bad Guys' hideout, Webs and Hornet were taking a day off as they sat down on the couch to watch TV. They were watching fun facts about the LGBTQIA+
The TV host asked her special guest, "During this Pride Month, is it difficult with finding love with the opposite sex? You know that this is something you need to clear up as yesterday-"
The guest then answered, "Look, I'm not pointing out any names or certain categories. I agree that loving someone, not the opposite gender, or having a different sex or gender identity can be the same way as being in a straight relationship. There are a lot of things that can come up unexpectedly. However, being in this type of relationship is just not easy. That's just it. It's not. Some people might not even take it well when it's not vital to learning. I mean, we already got a lot of noise from government protests; do we have enough?"
Watching this made Hornet begin to think about himself… about his sexuality. Ever since his sudden feelings for Piranha started to show, things got complicated for Hornet.
Seeing Hornet looking down like that after listening to the TV, Tarantula quickly turned the TV off with the remote, and looked at her friend, "Boy, you don't think you would listen to what the TV said, huh?" But Hornet didn't say anything. His silence has confirmed his answer, "That is flawed."
"I know, Webs, but what if those guys have, in their own stupid way, a point?" Hornet said.
Tarantula gasped, "Shush!"
"I mean, what if there is something wrong with me, Webs?"
"'Cause you're not dating anyone?"
"I'm weirding everyone out! They see me on TV, robbing, stealing, scaring around, and of course, as a member of the Bad Guys, I have a reputation like the rest of you. It's a vivid image.
"Hornet, you are a strong, independent bug. Anybody afraid of you is not worth your time.
"Yeah, maybe, but what if they're right? What if I'll never find anybody?"
"Hey, what about Piranha? You and he are buddies for a while. You two were so close. And you accidentally dated each other online," Tarantula chuckled, recalling the event of Hornet's blind date incident.
"That is because I didn't know my date was him. It's a blind date," Hornet admitted before clarifying, "Look, Piranha and I are just friends. Nothing more."
"Suit yourself, Hornet. But you better hurry. As you said, you know your own sexuality, and whatever that is, you should follow it," Tarantula shrugged as she placed a hand on Hornet's hand, "You already dated me, and it didn't work out, so I know someone out there will like you for you. Don't give up."
After that quick pep talk, Tarantula jumped off the couch, leaving Hornet alone with his thoughts. Hornet was on his own, thinking if Tarantula was right. What if he won't be himself if he won't find someone soon? He's pansexual. A person who would have feelings for someone regardless of their sex or gender identity. If he won't find someone, then what sexuality would he have?
Just then, his thoughts were interrupted when the elevator door opened, and the rest of the Bad Guys came out, laughing and chattering. Hornet hit behind the arm of the couch, but his eyes were still peaking.
"Nice work today, Piranha," Wolf commented.
"You should see the looks on those cops' faces! Priceless!" Piranha laughed.
The sight of Piranha made Hornet's time go in slow motion. Seeing Piranha laughing before looking forward to where he was walking made Hornet imagine him with sparkles and pink and yellow clouds covering the corners. Hornet could see how cute Piranha is while he was walking and his expression made the insect swoon. Hornet smiled dreamingly with small arts just came out from his head.
"Hey Webs, Hornet," Wolf's voice snapped Hornet out of his daydream as he quickly hid completely behind the armrest of the couch, "What are you two doing on your time off?"
Tarantula answered while she was standing on a drawer beside the couch, "Well, just talking about stuff. Not too important."
"Well, I'm glad you both enjoyed your time off. Turns out we didn't need our tech wizard and our lookout in today's heist," Wolf teased.
"Hey, watch your words, or you'll never see us again," Tarantula warned.
"Alright, alright."
Meanwhile, Piranha was looking for Hornet as he went to the couch, and found the little insect hiding behind an armrest, "Hey, Hornet," He was caught! Hornet didn't have to hide anymore as he sat down casually, and faced Piranha, "Watcha doin'?"
"Oh, nothing. Just talking with Webs, and that's it," Hornet answered.
Piranha nodded, "Well, I better get to my room. I still have a couple of recipes to read," he held out a book of recipes as he headed straight to his room.
Piranha might not like reading, but reading for recipes is his thing. Hornet sighed in relief that Piranha believed him. Hornet couldn't tell Piranha that he was imagining him so dreamingly. The latter might think the former was so odd. Having a crush on a male piranha? Who would think a male hornet would feel that way?
Ugh! Hornet really needed to stop thinking about his feelings for Piranha! They are just friends! That is all…! Or so he thought.
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It was laundry time, and the Bad Guys had to dump their dirty clothes into their baskets. When Shark deliver the basket full of dirt into the laundry room the next floor blow their hideout, Hornet was in charge of doing laundry today. It was his turn.
When Shark left Hornet to do laundry after bringing his dirty clothes to him, the insect threw away the dirty clothes into the washing machine. When he threw a couple more, he found Puranha's shirt. It was still white, but it was kinda stinky. Before Hornet could throw Piranha's shirt into the washing machine, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He looked around to see if no one was in the room, Hornet took a deep sniff on the shirt. He didn't care how stinky it is, it did smell like his best friend.
"He might smell stinky, but this exactly smells like Piranha," Hornet smiled before sniffing the shirt again.
Just then, the elevator door opened, and Hornet was startled. In a panic, he only put his arms behind his banc while still holding Piranha's shirt.
Piranha came out of the elevator, and found Hornet next to the washing machine, "Hey, Hornet."
"What are you doing here, Piranha?" Hornet asked sheepishly, still holding his friend's shirt behind his back.
"I came here to see how was the laundry doing," the little fish answered.
"Umm," the insect quickly threw the shirt into the washing machine, and quickly threw a couple of more, "Just work-in-progress."
Seeing that Hornet might be too slow to work fast, Piranha stepped in, and said, "You know, what if I'll do laundry for you? You're too small to do this all by yourself."
"No thanks, Piranha. I'm good."
"It's okay. I'll take care of it."
"Are you sure?" Hornet stared at Piranha. Why does he have to be such a gentleman for a little rowdy guy? Piranha nodded smilingly. In that case, Hornet gave the laundry he had on his arms to Piranha, and headed towards the elevator,
"Alright. I'll see you upstairs," Piranha said
"Sure," Hornet answered quickly without looking back at Piranha before he entered the elevator and the doors were closed.
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When Hornet arrived back at the hideout, it was empty. Probably the rest of the Bad Guys were in their rooms. Finally, a bigger space for him to be alone with his thoughts. He was passing around in panic after what he did back there in the laundry room before Piranha found him.
"What am I doing? Why do I still have feelings for my best friend? What do I like about him anyway? That little childish…" Hornet started to describe Piranha with a dreamy sigh, "sharp-teeth, cute waddling, strong, macho fish?" Realizing what he was doing, Hornet slapped himself with his hand to snap out of his dreamy thoughts about his best friends, "Snap out of it!" He then sighed sadly, "Oh, who am I kidding? I don't think Piranha would like me back because I'm a bug… and a guy. A handsome fella like him would like and flirt with girls, and his own kind," Hornet sighed once again. He thought he had no chance for Piranha, and his sexuality was complicated to understand. Looking at the window, Hornet thought that thinking inside the hideout won't do him better, "I gotta go out for fresh air," he flew towards the windows, opened one of them, and flew out of the hideout.
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Hornet was flying around, humming a little song, until he noticed a convention where a lot of people ran inside excitingly.
Curious about what was happening, Hornet flew down, and saw the sign beside the door.
"Hmm, 'Don't know who you are? Join our program for free'," Hornet was unsure of this, but he started to have complications about himself lately, including his sudden awkward feelings for his best friend, and his sexuality that he wasted on his life, "Hmm, I can give it a try," Hornet proceeded to fly inside while no one was looking at him.
The meeting room was almost full, and Hornet found himself a space to sit.
A host came in front, and announced to all comers, "Alright, settle down. Settle down, everyone. Okay, so you're all here because you're wondering who you are and what you want to be. For this theme, we're talking about our sexualities."
"Well, I'm in luck," Hornet said in his mind.
The host then continued, "All of you wondered what your sexuality is. Are you born with it? Did you grow up learning what you think of yourself? Have you experienced falling in love with anybody or nobody? This is where you got so confused. You started to feel different about yourselves. The first feeling was something was not right with you. And the second one was mostly about romantic feelings. You guys fall in love with someone who was the same and/or opposite gender, or someone who had the same insecurities as you are in this room."
While the host was talking, Hornet knew this was what he was feeling today… or, at least, the whole year. Whatever the host said was just like how Hornet was feeling. This is the place where he should go. Glad that he found it. This must be the place where he could get his solution.
"Well, that's the whole point. Not everything should be based on your romantic feelings for someone. You should think of yourselves first. Is this really how you've been feeling? Is this what you wanted as you grew up? It's hard to find yourself and know who you are at first, but when you continue to grow and feel comfortable in this kind of life with your new sexuality, you've got nothing to worry about. The first thing you do is embrace yourself, and accept who are. Straight, bisexual, pansexual, all of it. When you do, you can finally find someone really special who likes you for you, no matter what your sexuality is."
This was it. This was what Hornet needed after all. He has to accept himself first as he is right now. He just needed to adjust his life to his new sexuality before he could end up with someone or be single for the rest of his life. But deep down, he had to find someone so he won't be alone again. He was only doubting himself that he could find the right person he could spend his life with, and won't regret it. He doubted himself about being in love with someone who was his best friend…
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Speaking of best friend, before he knew it, Hornet turned to his left, and saw Piranha among the crowd at the lower part of the seats. This surprised Hornet. Piranha was here the whole time! He was here in the program! Oh, stinger. This wasn't what Hornet expected at all. He thought he could get out of the hideout to be alone with his thoughts and away from Piranha. But no matter where he went, that fish was there nearby. By staring at Piranha long enough while thinking, Hornet didn't only see his best friend, but a dreamy fish that is so cute enough to steal his heart and the glow of his life gem.
Hornet then snapped to reality as he felt it again. The one he had been trying to understand with his identity. Hornet couldn't stay much longer as he quickly flew off without finishing the meeting.
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Late at night, Hornet hadn't been coming home since he left. He needed more time than he thought. Hornet made it back to the hideout at 12:30 am as he took the opening window that he used earlier. When he arrived there, none of the Bad Guys were in the main room. They were probably in their bedrooms sleeping…, and he should be too. It's been a long complicated day for him. Hornet slowly flew into his room, and closed the door.
When closed the door, Hornet leaned his back against the door, and slid down. After what was happening today, it felt so wrong and so stressful. The TV reminded him about his sexuality, Tarantula's advice gave him a hard time accepting it, the Identity Program gave him solutions to accept himself, and finally, he could get his eyes and thoughts off of Piranha. Whenever that fish was around, the insect couldn't help but have these feelings for him. But he shouldn't. Even trying to get away from his best friend, he was also there at the Identity Program.
Though, that was the point, Piranha was in that program too. That was strange for Hornet, especially since the program was for people with identity crises, and the topic was sexuality.
"I can't believe it! Piranha was here too? Why is he there?" Hornet wondered why Piranha had to go to that program. Did he have an identity crisis too? Did he have problems with his sexuality? Oh, it didn't matter to Hornet anymore. The only he could think of was his sexuality. He had to think for himself first before thinking about his feelings for Piranha, but… every time he did, it was his best friend… or, in this case now, the crush he could think of. Hornet sighed in shame as he fell onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling, "Why every time I see him, I started…?" He couldn't finish his sentence. He was ashamed to accept feelings. Hornet sat right up on his bed, and all of a sudden… he sang.
It's 2 A.M. but I'm still here, awake
Your beautiful face keeps flashing on my mind
I hear your voice and the way you say my name
It's like reality and make-believe combined
I recall the time when I sat right beside you
And you talked about how good your life has been
When your eyes met mine, my voice and hands started shaking
And everything I am starts caving in
I feel like crashing, drifting
Sinking way too deep
I feel like flying, dreaming
Even though I'm not asleep
And I pray to God to give me strength
'Cause your beauty makes me weak
But I'm not lying
I feel like crashing right into you
Hornet took out a photo of him and Piranha laughing together that was placed in a picture frame. He flew back on the bed while staring at it.
It's 8 P.M. and we go out for coffee
I feel the pain of the truth you try to hide
You tell me that your heart's owned by nobody
And a part of me begins to die inside
I feel like crashing, drifting
Sinking way too deep
I feel like flying, dreaming
Even though I'm not asleep
And I pray to God to give me strength
'Cause your beauty makes me weak
But I'm not lying
I feel like crashing right into you
Hornet stared back at the photo, and hung his head down hopelessly. He hoped he had a chance with Piranha, but how long would he have to wait?
Yeah, it's 3 A.M. and I'm still here, awake
The shining stars remind me of your smile
And though I know that smile is not meant for me
This heartache's gonna linger for a while
I feel like crashing, drifting
Sinking way too deep
I feel like flying, dreaming
Even though I'm not asleep
And I pray to God to give me strength
'Cause your beauty makes me weak
But I'm not lying
Even though I'm hurting
I'll be here waiting
And I'll keep crashing right into
You
Hornet put the photo down, and sighed sadly. But the longer he felt this way, he felt tired of pretending to control his feelings and feeling insecure about his sexuality. He couldn't hold this feeling of denial anymore.
"Okay, that is it! I can't hide it anymore! I just have to accept myself. This is what I am, and this is what I've been feeling with Piranha this whole time!" Hornet started to tear up as he was now accepting his real feelings for Piranha, "I can't deny it anymore. I just need to accept it. I'm in love with him. I'm in love with my best friend. I need to tell him the truth… maybe someday," He was ashamed that he was falling in love with his best friend. Piranha is just his friend, but then again, Hornet was in love with him. He wasn't sure if Piranha felt the same. He couldn't let the fish know yet. Their friendship would be ruined and filled with awkwardness if Hornet would tell. He had to take the risk.
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Unbeknownst to him, outside Hornet's door, Wolf was outside, leaning an ear against the door. He heard everything that was happening inside Hornet's room, and he could hear what the bug was saying. Wolf didn't sleep either. He was awake in his bedroom, waiting for Hornet to get home as he was worried. But he had nothing to worried. Hornet is fine… but not emotionally. When Wolf found out Hornet returned home, he wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to check on his bug friend, but he was listening behind the door. And now, he found out. Wolf was right. Wolf was right about Hornet's feelings for Piranha. It was all true. Wolf held a fist, and whispered excitingly, "Yes."
Without letting Hornet know he was outside of his door, Wolf decided to head back to his room to be alone with his thoughts of this interesting and surprising discovery from his bug friend.
From there, Wolf sat on his office chair, and spun around. He just loved it when he was right.
"I guess there is a news that needs to be spread after all," he held a pen, and pushed the push button, making a loud sound of a "click".
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Credits:
Rhenzy Feliz - Mr. Hornet
Anthony Ramos - Mr. Piranha
Sam Rockwell - Mr. Wolf
Awkwafina - Ms. Tarantula
Catherine Taber - TV Host
Colman Domingo - Special Guest
RuPaul - Program host
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Author
Rally9933
Co-Author
TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3
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So you're a tough guy
Like it really rough guy
Just can't get enough guy
Chest always so puffed guy
I'm that bad type
Make your mama sad type
Make your girlfriend mad tight
Might seduce your dad type
I'm the bad guy
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Finally! I made it to this chapter, and right on time for Pride Month.
Special thanks to TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3 for helping me with this chapter.
The song doesn't belong to me. This song is called 'Crashing' by Kyle Juliano.
I hope you like this chapter. The next chapter will be up soon!
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#the bad guys#thebadguys#tbg#dreamworks the bad guys#the bad guys dreamworks#the bad guys movie#the bad guys movie 2022#the bad guys 2022#the bad guys oc#tbg oc#tbg dreamworks#the bad guys fanfic#mr wolf#mr piranha#ms tarantula#mr hornet#criminal found family#insecurity#lgbtqiia+#gay#pansexual#BiteStinger#mr piranha x mr hornet
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Thinking about the abortion thing, and the "but what if your mom had aborted you," and thinking about how my mom's life almost certainly would have been improved if she'd waited longer to have kids.
My parents met in high school, and my mom was a year and a half older than my dad.
My dad turned 18 on November 1st, 1978. They got married November 6th. I was born two days after their first anniversary--which means my mom was 20, and my dad was 19 and eight days old. They were babies.
(I was three weeks late, to boot. "They don't even let you go that late anymore," my mom's told me. I was 8lb 6oz.)
I will point out: I was unplanned but not unwanted. My parents had already talked about how many kids they wanted (three). They were hoping to wait longer before getting started--but there was a weekend my dad was on shore leave from the US Navy, and as both of them have told me since, "We got snowed in! We ran out of our usual method* and had nothing much else to do! We did think, 'eh, it's fine, we're married,' so you weren't a total surprise."
My parents were poor as fuck, though some of it was softened by my dad being in the Navy--we would always have housing and healthcare, however shitty. But my mom to this day cannot stand eating packaged ramen because she ate SO MUCH of it when she was pregnant with me (which might explain why I like it so much, lol). She told me about once looking through the couch cushions to find spare change so she could walk a mile to 7-11 and buy a Snickers bar. They were never on food benefits--never even applied, afaik. My mom later told me that she does wish she'd known about WIC checks, at least. (I turned out to be lactose-intolerant, so when my mom went back to work I had to be put on soy formula, and that was a LOT of money in 1980.)
I've seen photos from their first anniversary, two days before my birth: my dad got her one single rose, in a pretty vase that (afaik) she still has. We both have small-ish frames, so she resembles a stick figure with a beach ball hidden under a dress.
When my mom went into labor with me, my dad was "donating" plasma. There were no cell phones yet. They only had the one car. She just had to wait for him to get home!
Not that there was any rush--she was in labor a long time before they decided on a c-section, and they fucked up on the epidural multiple times before deciding to just give my mom general anesthesia. My mom insisted, after my birth: no more military hospital births, fuck the cost. (Sure enough: both of my brothers were born in civilian hospitals.)
If you've known me a while, you've see me talk about this: my dad was, in many ways, a piece of shit. He was awful to my mom in so, so many big and small ways; some of which I didn't know until I was an adult. He was physically and emotionally abusive to all of us.
And I always wonder: if my mom hadn't become pregnant mere months after getting married, at the age of 19, would she have left my dad? My parents basically eloped and neither set of their parents were terribly pleased about it because they were so young. If I hadn't shown up, maybe my mom would've swallowed her pride and called her parents from Florida and asked if she could come home, please.
Either way they would've had more money in those early years, at least.
I just don't know. It's not the kind of thing I could ask her.
She's been moderately pro-life my entire life. (She's wavered on whether abortion should be illegal or not. She's in favor of good sex ed and access to birth control, but also said to me once that if I had an abortion to never, ever tell her.)
But I strongly suspect that if that weren't the case, and my parents had decided "no, we're not ready yet," and aborted me; that my mom's life might've been better. In any case, I wouldn't be here to think about it, so it wouldn't matter.
(*their usual method was spermicidal foam! I'm not even sure you can buy that anymore! I cannot imagine depending on that--I definitely would have thought condoms were a better option. But me and my brothers are supposedly each one time they skipped it! After my youngest brother my mom got a tubal ligation. She jokes that she said to the doctor, "While you're in there, let's make sure this is the last one.")
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Pirate Party Part One
My first thought for this was I bet Ed as a kid like. Was probably way too adultified as a kid and helped look after younger kids back home. Which isn't great but now he's also great with kids! Or that's the positive he takes from it at least to distract from how frustrating that is as a kid to go through.
Then I thought what if he met Stede's kids!
Them I remembered how I never got my pirate ship birthday party that I wanted as a kid.
And then we have this: a combo of all the above.
TW: birth and descriptions of. We go into a flashback re: the birth of one of Stede's kids and it gets Real.
Also I'm sorry I don't have a title yet. I'll get there eventually when I get this posted to my ao3 as well.
---
"Okay, so as far as the other parents know, all the kids are still at mine, and I have a plan if anyone comes to check," Mary said swiftly. "And the kids have all been told, what kids, say it for me!"
The crowd of approximately 15 children, all crammed onto the main deck alongside his bemused crew, spoke in one high-pitched roar: "We say we stayed at the house!"
"Which is a lie, and normally we don't lie!" Mary continued. "But this time it's okay, because:"
The kids picked up again: "Today we're pirates, and pirates are allowed to lie!"
They dissembled into a bunch of growling and shouts of 'arr!' as Mary handed over the last child to Stede.
"This is a baby," he said of the maybe eight month old baby girl he now held.
"Some of the mums asked if brothers and sisters could come, but luckily only Suzy still has a baby, so at least it's only one," Mary offered, placing a bag of supplies into Ed's hands as he walked up. "Stede, Ed, tell everyone thank you. This is making the kids' day, more than you realize."
"I can tell," Ed noted as a small boy ran by with a knife, a laughing Frenchie running after him. "Kid's birthday party on a pirate ship is pretty fucking cool. No one else in town is gonna beat that. What can they even try? Oh, we brought a pony in, ooh look at this terrifying clown man, fuck that!"
"Right?" Mary beamed. "I owe it to you all of course, but I have to admit I'm feeling a bit prideful now about it. Stede, I think we won the whole parenting thing with this!"
"I don't think you can win that," Stede laughed awkwardly as the baby leaned over him to reach for Ed's hair. "Oh no sweetheart, that'll hurt Mr. Teach!"
"Mr. Teach?" Ed snorted. He gently took the baby from Stede, and held her up so she could attempt to meet his eyes. "Nah, I'm Ed. What do we call you?"
The baby babbled something incomprehensible, and Ed grinned. "No shit! Got a cousin with that name."
He wandered off pointing out parts of the ship to the baby, excitedly explaining rigging and the most boring parts of sailing as if he was telling a riveting tale.
"You know," Mary said. "If you two ever. Want one, of your own. I mean, I know it won't be exactly but-"
Stede cocked his head as she stammered. "Are you blushing?"
She was as she turned and hugged him. "I'm just happy for you. And I want you to have all the happiness you've given me since we broke up. And I don't know what's possible at sea or if you two would even want that, but...if you do. I mean, you remember my pregnancies. Easy and calm and fast labors."
"We never did get that stain out of that carpet from Alma," Stede mused. "Did you ever tell her it was from, well, her?"
"Save that for her teen years," Mary joked. "Not yet, but she'll ask eventually I'm sure. She already knows Dad was the one to catch her."
The memory hit Stede full in the face. Four in the morning, unable to get anyone else to help try and get the doctor, and poor Mary screaming she wasn't going to make it to the doctor's anyway.
It had seemed, or rather he had hoped she was wrong. After all, her waters hadn't broken even yet, and the doctor had said that was sign of being closer to it.
Which was a jinx he put upon himself, as they got as far as the antique rug in the hall before Mary made him stop and help her to the floor.
The rest of it was an odd mix of feelings. He'd felt the fear most strongly, as he'd helped her pull away her underthings and lift up her nightclothes. That was the most instruction she could manage before she hit what he later found out was essentially the last and most intense stage of labor. Head tossed back, but only moaning and groaning, no screaming (which he actually had hoped someone might hear and charge in earlier, but no such luck.)
Then the blur of breaking waters, and Stede begging her why on earth she hadn't said something earlier about this, hadn't she been in pain?
As it turned out she had, but the doctor later found her pain tolerance slightly terrifying when she rated active labor an 8 or a 9, but nowhere near what a 10 would be, and 9 was probably being dramatic, as she'd explained to them.
"I kept expecting it to feel worse than this!" She'd wailed back at him.
"This seems pretty bad though!" He recalled responding, and immediately regretting it but understanding Mary's reaction of kicking him square in the face.
She mumbled an apology, and then suddenly, like that...there. The very top of a head and Mary with her eyes shut, breathing hard, every muscle strained. It was terrifying and impressive and beautiful in a gory way.
But he could only focus on that for a moment, more important was remembering how the doctor had explained it might be best to push, when he'd give Mary instructions, and then horrifyingly he'd have to play that role himself.
"Forgive me if I make this awkward," Stede had told her, earning a withering look from Mary. "I'm. I want to help. I can help with...this, or if you'd like, I'll run for the doctor."
He was hoping and fully expected her to choose the latter option, but she didn't.
"Please stay," she whimpered. "I know we need the doctor and we can get him after. Please don't leave me alone now."
Looking back, he could now see it as one of the times where they did love each other. Not romantically as their parents had hoped, but the love of people who had become friends, who knew each other well now and found comfort in that.
"I'm not going anywhere," Stede had reassured her, though he felt he might vomit from fear. "You're going to be fine, and so is the baby, and then I'll get the doctor after I tuck you up in bed."
"We've already ruined this rug, let's just bring blankets and pillows out here," Mary groaned. "Not ruin the bed too. Fuck me, can I push?"
He looked down and he knew what he'd been told to look for if god forbid this situation happened, but it took a moment to orient himself nonetheless. "I think so. Yes, okay."
He hadn't known until Mary's pregnancy that that was even a part of it, that the pushing could take so much time. The pain Mary seemed to be in was heartbreaking though, and he wanted it over for her sake.
He let her rest a leg on one of his shoulders, and tried to think of what the doctor would do next as he watched more of the head emerge.
"Oh, hang on," he cautioned her, letting her leg drop to reach a hand to the baby's head, but she clearly wasn't at a point where she could stop. The baby's head slipped out and he felt woozy, but moved his fingers to help cradle and guide the baby.
There was no more talking; it just happened from that point on. He could tell people how he heard Mary breathing as hard as ever, groaning with each push, how he heard himself making frightened embarrassing little noises, the feel of his baby's head in his hands, the wetness of that poor carpet beneath them. But he had never managed to put into words all he felt as he watched the shoulders pop free, and then the rest of his daughter's body damn near slid past his hands as he caught her.
And then there was a moment to wipe away her little face, and she wailed. They wailed right with her, out of happiness. It was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard.
Stede was jolted back to reality by an elbow from Mary.
"Did you tell Ed that yet?" She asked. "Bet he'd get a kick finding out that you did spend at least one night covered in blood prior to being a pirate."
Stede smiled. "He would. I haven't yet but..."
He watched Ed, now surrounded by a small gaggle of the younger kids, all doing some dance he'd made up for them that actually seemed to be a way to keep the baby from crying with constant bouncing.
"Rein in the baby fever," Mary giggled. "Make sure he wants that too first."
Stede blushed. "Of course, sorry."
"Don't be sorry; it's adorable," Mary said. "You and him with the kids over there too."
"He is really adorable with them," Stede sighed.
"Oh you've got it bad," Mary said. "Alright, well I'll be back before the evening, like we agreed. Have a good time, and please mind how much sugar they have! Even pirates don't want cavities."
Stede nodded and helped her back to shore, and pondered if any of the crew had seen a dentist in a timely fashion for awhile. Perhaps crew dental appointments were in order, at a proper barber shop in a port!
He let the planning of that consume his mind as he walked back to the shrieking-filled ship.
#text post#ofmd fic#i have no excuse for this fic and also im sorry its more than one part that was not intended#but then i got going and now here i am#im sorry stede buddy i put u thru the ringer as a dad in the flashback bit#marc writes
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RMIT Design Management Sem 1 - 2024
Team 9 - IRD VN Brief 2 & 3
Week 6: Stickers.
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What's been going on in week 6?
Team's organization chart: Tâm - main idea guy and director, editor; Thao - script storyboard and communicator; Khanh - script storyboard, stickers and presentation slides; Ngan - script storyboard and video editor. Again, everyone pitches ideas for storyboarding, script and video making process.
Timeline: just proposed detailed brief, now 4 weeks left. This week will be used to start preparing props for the video as well as making sure the script is good and other preparations stuff. The next 2 weeks will be used for filming and editing and last week will be used for the booklet.
Individual contribution: see team organization chart.
Peer review: still great so far.
For this week, Tâm went out to meet our client F2F together with team 8 and 10 to propose some stuff to the client. I also teamed up with team 8 and 10 to work on the mascot as well as stickers and together with Thảo and Ngan refine and fix up our chosen script and storyboard.
Our challenges right now is that we're a team consisting of 3 people who mainly do illustrations so it's kinda terrifying knowing that we will be filming videos instead of doing animation or illustration. Like not just knowing how to film well, but also worrying about props, where to film, editing, effects and sound, atc…
And also I'm feeling like we're stagnating in terms of progress at the moment. Maybe that's just because I'm doing DM&C only in this semester but I'm finding a lot of "free time". This week's main objective is still preparing props and to meet and discuss more about actually finalizing the script as well as confirming where to shoot our videos and important stuff like that.
But because we havent had anytime right after the client meeting to actually meet with each other and talk (due to personal problems or being busy), we are now waiting for 3 whole days without doing anything since we can't meet each other and talk, we can't confirm anything and can't proceed forward. And we don't want to just chat or through facecam meetings because we can't really discuss like that. Maybe we should have found a better way to communicate or use this time that we have right now that we couldn't do anything. We should have had our own meeting right after the client meeting in order to confirm everything and proceed instead of waiting.
I'm also about to meet and do the stickers with team 8 and 10. Together with having my script chosen for the video while not knowing anything about filming or editing or where do we even film our videos is stressing me out greatly.
Client and other teams seemed to really like my stickers demo as well as my script especially the chosen one - the trying on different socks. The other two using sock puppets are fine but hard to understand.
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After meeting with team 8-10 and our own team 9:
For the mascot, i worked for team 8 a bit and my suggestion is still not to put the little details like PrEP pills, HIVST and condoms into the mascot's front pockets as well as text logos (IRD insisted they want people to KNOW it's from IRD and Eclipse when they first saw it) because it will look very small or distorted when the mascot is in poses. Not only that, all those details will also be blocked by an arm or something, and it could create frustration especially with text logos when it's partially hidden because people couldn't read the full text.
Despite it's team 8's design based on IRD's preference, I still really don't like the fact that I have to draw small objects IRD asked on stickers. So I decided to just draw 3 more extra stickers on top of my 6 Pride Month themed ones. These 3 will feature the mascot holding those items in a giant form so people can actually know what those are.
And for our team 9 own meeting, despite we already sent IRD script for our videos, we decided to go offscript. Not by a whole lot, but enough to notice. It's because as time comes we can always think of something new to play with in terms of the vibe or twist that can actually elevate the experience of people watching it. For example, my chosen script for the 30s video having quite a bit funny bits inside the dialogue - a familiar format in Vietnam, we decided to change that into something more artistic and more subtle in terms of the message by experiementing with editing, pacing and maybe even not using dialogues at all. We do all these changes to make sure that the audience actually want to watch the video. Actually, what we doing exactly right now is designing for the clients of IRD and not IRD themselves since we think IRD's personal taste for these videos are quite corporative and predictable and repetitive even. We wanted something new and worth looking at!
After the meeting I dont feel stagnating anymore, at least on my part. I feel like my script still need a lot of thinking to make sure it goes smoothly during the filming process as well as how the editing and pace will go. I even got 3 more extra stickers to do and I ought to finish them before filming so that I can actually help my team.
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