claws dig into his shoulder, eyes impossibly wide. pulling himself closer with the plan to apologize in the morning, when he can talk. nightmare.

it takes so little to wake sonic up on nights like this -- a strangled gasp, the stiffening of limbs, shadow's legs twitching beneath the sheets as if to bicycle in a half-abandoned death throe. sonic untangles himself from the blankets, from sleep itself, moving in front of shadow to place one hand planted at shadow's rib cage, the other on his cheek, grounding the two of them as if this is the prelude to jump start shadow from sleep to nightmare to reality. don't forget to connect the red clamp to the positive terminal and here we go --

sonic's more used to this than he'd like to admit, and not just from shadow. there were so many sleepless nights as a kid, where he was the only shield blocking out the rest of the world for tails, a barrier against lightning and creatures in the night and memories of bullies yanking so hard on his tails they'd pull away fur by the fistfuls, laughing all the while.

it's different, of course, for shadow. the ghosts don't look the same, don't haunt him the same way. shadow is all blood and bullets and bared teeth, desperate and violent in his self-preservation, hands finding purchase on sonic's shoulders just for the claws to dig in. he knows shadow will regret it in the morning, will think himself a kind of monster for causing harm at all, will forgo recognizing his own torment just to focus on the wounds he never intended to leave.

but sonic won't let him face this alone. not right now, not in the morning.

his thumb brushes over the wet tracks left on shadow's cheek, sonic's green eyes fluorescent in the slice of light from the moon seeping into the room. the hand over shadow's rib cage tightens its grip a minuscule amount, another way to ground shadow, something else to focus on rather than the horrors playing over in his mind like a faulty VHS, the image skipping, repeating, fraying at the edges into something even more terrible than the memory it was based on.

"breathe for me." sonic's voice is rough with sleep, the sound of wind fighting through dense foliage. he presses his forehead against shadow's, his face blurring into something only recognizable through the dominant emotion -- panic. "in," sonic says, demonstrating a slow, deep breath in. "hold." his thumb taps against shadow's ribs, a steady beat... eight, nine, ten... "out." sonic waits to feel the ghost of shadow's breath across his lips before starting the exercise over, once, twice, three times, however many it takes to bring shadow back, to bleed cogency back into him.

he's not sure how long it takes, sonic's own limbs cramping as he squats on the bed before shadow, but the breathing evens out, the claws unstick from his shoulders. sonic doesn't wait, doesn't ask if shadow's okay, just gathers him in his arms already knowing the answer, already knowing what he needs to hear. he nuzzles his mouth against the side of shadow's head as if he can direct the words to shadow's brain, bypassing everything else.

you are not your ghosts. not to me.

his hand cards through shadow's quills, burying deep to scratch at his scalp, a low, slow purr starting in his chest, more for shadow's sake than his own, another signal of comfort.

you are more than just the sum of all the terrible things that have happened to you, all the terrible things you've done before. you always have been. you always will be to me.

thinking about Nico adjusting to letting himself miss and long for the people he loves. based on these bits from the sun and the star:

" As Nico and Will followed the trogs, he thought about how much he missed Hazel. He was learning to make peace with that feeling. It was okay for him to miss people because that meant he wanted them around in his life. That idea was *very* new for him- he was used to either pushing people away or watching them recoil from his presence." *

" That was the most surreal thing of all... Was he happy? Nico wasn't very familiar with the sensation, but he couldn't deny that he felt wonderful in Will's presence. He even longed for the son of Apollo when they were apart. A funny thing had happened as the two grew closer: Nico suddenly understood all those cheesy, sappy love songs he'd always hated."

okay so Steve is a Sports Guy so would obviously be watching the olympics when the roll around. But Eddie would get into one of the one of the more obscure sports.

Steve would come over to Eddie's and Eddie would be on the edge of the couch shouting criticisms like 'NO, NO! COME ON! THAT RIBBON SNAP WAS PATHETIC! Those judges are BLIND' and shushing Steve when he threatens to make a noise by even just closing the door. Steve wanders over, places a kiss on Eddie's head but gets batted away, getting in the way of Eddie's view. Laughing, Steve sits down as the event ends and they wait for the next one to start 'so what are we watching?'

'Denmark about to play women's double but they are looking pretty tired and I'm pretty sure there's some drama between the teams. They've definitely slept together and one of them has feelings but the other doesn't. Ref is involved too, I swear. Now shut up.'

Steve grabs a handfull of chips from the bag abandoned by Eddie's thigh and settles back, not sure if he wants to watch the match or his boyfriend. It takes one game for Steve to get passionately invested. This leads to Wayne coming home to the pair of them standing on the furniture yelling at each other

'HOW CAN YOU AGREE WITH THAT POINT? IT WAS CLEARLY OUT OF THE LINES!'

'ARE YOU BLIND STEVE? ARE YOU? BECAUSE IT WAS IN AND THE JUDGES AGREE SO FUCK OFF!'

tdov was like a week ago already but I just wanna say when I came over to vacation slash help my sworn brother move flat he told me, "ever since you said you wanted to get top surgery I've been thinking about it. it's straight up number two on my bucket list"

Pathetic!Kimhan truthers rise up 💕

.

Bad news, got back from the vet and my beautiful baby son is going to have to be put down soon, probably tomorrow or the next day, so send him best of wishes for his next few days~ Luckily, he's actually not in a lot of pain (for now, hopefully he won't be) and is acting pretty normal, so I'm hoping he won't suffer at all and everything will be peaceful for him.

You ever just want to talk about Bertl,

my god i just woke up from THE most detailed gentle and heartbreaking dream about jinki im in my bed like 😮 what was THAT

NEGATIVE TWO THOUSAND I'M

They all go to work and make ok wages in the sim world, but Vincent is an impulse buyer and Eric makes poor investments. Amon is the only frugal person out of all of them.

Amon gathers them for a discussion on how they'll get out of debt and keep having functional utilities. As well as selling some unneeded items (and freeing up space in the apartment they're sharing.)

Eric suggests doing sexy car washes for money instead of selling his 15 piece pro drum set.

Vincent suggests joining a fight club and selling candy pills in dark alleys.

...After a thorough three-way beatdown, the three bruised bachelors decide on pooling money each month for expenses from now on. Vincent sells his nunchucks (which he never learned how to use) and two of his toaster ovens, Eric sells an old guitar and some band tees, and Amon sells their punching bag. The punching bag was a mutually suffered loss.

Eventually they're done paying the debt owed, their rent for the month, and some utilities, and they learn to be a bit more responsible.

...They still beat each other up though.

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 12: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should rest for the night in an abandoned barn ...

~

Somewhat nervous about being out in the woods alone at night, he decides to try finding a more hidden sleeping spot, further off from the path. Though with his injuries, and his exhaustion, he knows he shouldn't walk too far. He tells himself that he'll just adventure a little, only an hour or so, and if he can't find anything better by then, he'll just give up and set a tent in some bushes somewhere......

After 30 minutes, he finally stumbles across an old barn. He can't see it very well with just a trickle of moonlight and the dull glow of his flickering lantern, but it seems to have not been used for many years. Structurally sound enough (at least he hopes), yet shrouded in moss and blankets of various overgrowth.. It takes a few moments to pluck away all of the ivy blocking his path, but he soon closes the rickety doors behind him to focus on the interior. There's no space to light a fire or set up a real tent, and he'll have to block a few holes in the walls so wild animals don't sneak in, but, there are a few surprisingly clear looking sections scattered amongst all the musty hay bales and cobwebs. He chooses a "cozy" spot in the corner, hidden behind a few dusty crates. Though he tosses about uncomfortably in his bedding for quite a while, he's eventually able to fall into a peaceful sleep.….....

.. Suddenly, he's startled awake by rustling, catching a dark blurred movement in front of him. He's smart enough to always sleep wearing his backpack over his chest so nobody could just grab it without him noticing, but it seems for the first time in all his travels... someone is actually trying to. Still half asleep, he clings to the bag and yelps, pushing and tumbling away into a moldy wooden barrel after an initial struggle. He pulls himself up to face the hooded figure now looming above him, entirely obscured aside from their vague cloak-ish shape outlined by the faint moonlight behind them.. The Adventurer calls out in a shaky attempt at an aggressive tone, "Wh-wh.. whAT are YOU DOIng? WHo-whu..UHHH??? aahhhG" "Give me the bag." The hooded figure speaks in a smooth, stern, yet calm voice, slowly taking a step forwards. The cat scrambles to The Adventurer's side, hissing and giving a low growl.. "w-WELL , uh,, sORRY , n-NO , I would rrrather not DO THAT, I h-- I uh-- I don't have even anythi- I don't even have ANYTHING, I mea- wh-wh HWaAt d-do I look RICH to you?? EUggh-" he gulps loudly, holding back nervous vomit, "B-BACK OFF!! you-.. f- uh.. THIEF!!!!!" The hooded figure pauses for a moment, as if re-strategizing how to approach the situation. "Look, kid, I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to give me that egg." "WHWh-what egg? I-I don.. DON'T have an EGG, I'm uh…aCTUALLY a-allergic to eggs, s-sso-" "The egg that's in a wooden box. In your bag. Don't waste your time bullshitting me.. Come on, let's make this quick." The hooded figure extends their arm, motioning to be handed the egg. Still desperately fighting not to throw up everywhere, The Adventurer simply sits on the floor, staring up at the hooded figure blankly as he tries to think.. Is he seriously being robbed for the first time? Is that like, a cool milestone, or a bad one? He's read about it in adventuring books before but... the reality feels so much different.. How can he get out of this? Strategies scatter through his mind, but he's too shaken to find any clear answers.. What should he do?

-

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

Hear me out: TimDami fic where Tim gets exposed to truth serum and absolutely books it whenever Damian so much as breathes near him

(pats the top of his head) this guy can fit So Much Sadness in him

whoops I popped off in the tags

so those dreams where I play SV and it's incredible have been totally replaced by nightmares now where I play it and it's literally so bad that I wake up from getting mad about it and like... can I just be normal about this one thing 🫥

wish more of u were into nascar. yall'd love the Narrative

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