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#im going a little insane about it actually
icallhimjoey · 3 days
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More!!! More!!!! More bookstore!joe! MORE!!!!!!!!!! we've seen his erratic behaviour when he visits the store after not having been able to come in for a while, but what about the visit before he knows he's not going to be able to come in for a while?
omg im so here for the bookstore!joe requests, but the "i already miss you even though youre still here" somehow turned into whatever this is... idk why i went where i went, my apologies, and tw for vomit Wordcount: 3K
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Lost Moments To Keep
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You hadn't stopped staring at Joe with the biggest eyes. You seemed confused and weirdly mesmerised. Your eyes tunneled a little, vision darker around the edges.
"That's Joe." Anne just said, and then your eyes moved to give her the same wild look.
"And I'm Anne. We like me, a lot. We don't like Joe. You've got temporary loss of normal brain function, look, Google says." Anne held her phone to your face, too close for anything to register.
"You're not helping, Anne." Joe scolded through clenched teeth.
"Wha–"
Joe was on the phone to someone, and... you knew who that was. You knew who that was. What the fuck. What was Joe Quinn doing in your bookstore?
And why were you on the floor, exactly? Your left elbow hurt, but the back of your head much worse.
"Yea, she's awake. She hasn't lost consciousness at all." Joe said to whoever was on the other side of the line. "Confused, though. Brain's all scrambled."
"Do you feel dizzy? Google says you might feel dizzy."
"I... what day is it?"
"Oh my God, she's asking what day it is." Anne said, turning to Joe like she was blaming him for what you'd asked. In Anne's terms, she was panicking. Anyone who didn't know her, though, would think she was being exceptionally calm given she'd just witnessed her boss lift a box of books that tipped her over backwards.
Your head hurt.
And you did feel dizzy. And nauseous too, a little.
It made sense that you had fallen, but it was strange to not remember and to have two strangers fret over you in your own business.
Your eyes darted from the worried face of famous actor Joe Quinn who was stood by your feet, to the wildly uninterested face of a younger girl who sat next to you with her legs crossed as she scrolled on her phone.
"Any vision disturbance? Are you more sensitive to light than you'd usually be, do you think?" Anne asked, seemingly going down a list she'd found online.
"Okay, thanks. We'll make sure she doesn't move until you get here." Joe looked at you as he said goodbye and hung up. That looked like your phone.
"Her mum's on her way."
Why was he using your phone?
"Any mental fogginess?" Anne continued, ignoring Joe and additionally ignoring you, entirely unfussed that you weren't answering any of her questions.
"Hey," Joe softly said, catching your attention as he stepped closer and leant an elbow on the counter as he bent down a little. He smiled warmly at you when he asked, "How are you feeling?"
Joe Quinn.
Joseph Quinn.
What was he doing in your bookstore?
And who the fuck was Anne?
Your eyes moved from one to the other until you saw black spots and the pain behind your eyes grew. Your ears were ringing when you softly said, "I'm... I'm gonna throw up."
Joe almost hadn't gone in today. He almost hadn't, because he didn't really have any time to waste. But, Jesus, he was glad he was there.
God, imagine if he hadn't been.
When Joe had woken up that morning, he thought he was likely going actually insane. He was flying out for work the next day, and instead of preparing, of packing, of seeing family and friends before he'd be off for a while - instead of all that, he showed up on the bookstore's doorstep at 10 am sharp. Right when Anne unlocked and opened the door. Just because that was where he wanted to be. He kind of already missed the store, even though he was right there.
Anticipatory nostalgia; Joe could feel it in his bones.
Instead of stepping aside and letting him in, she gave him a deadpan tired stare and waited for him to take the A-frame from her hands to put outside on the pavement.
Joe happily helped out. Said, "Good morning, sunshine!" all chipper and laughed when Anne looked like she had to try really hard not to vomit.
He'd called a good morning into the store, got a faint "Morning!" in reply from the backroom where you were making yourself a coffee, and found his ledge... empty.
Anne saw him look at the spot where he usually left the books that he was reading. You'd granted him that small little surface area of the store so you wouldn't have to keep putting his books back on the shelves, and so Joe wouldn't have to go looking for those same books again the next time he'd come in. A win win little ledge of excuses for Joe to return to your store. A real privilege, Joe thought.
Except he'd left books there.
He knew he did.
Where had they gone?
"I tidied." Anne said unsentimentally and challengingly looked at Joe over her mug as she took a sip of hot coffee.
She loved being a little shit and inconveniencing Joe wherever and whenever she could. Tidying the store was part of her job, and Joe knew if he was to complain, she'd have the upper hand, because what was he even really doing? The store wasn't a library, no matter how much he had starting treating it like one.
So instead, Joe used her inconvenient power move as an excuse to take his time to browse the whole store and took care to be in the exact wrong spot at the exact wrong time.
You secretly smiled every time you heard Anne sigh with frustration and heard her mutter, "Move!" under her breath before using a shoulder to push him aside. Every single time, Joe pretended he was totally oblivious. Would go, "Oh! Sorry! Was I in the way?" all innocently, but you could see how his mouth was fighting to keep his own smile hidden.
It took maybe forty minutes for Joe to have built up a little stack of books on the small sidetable next to your granddad's armchair in the window, and then Joe sat and read undisturbed for an hour and a half.
You loved it when Joe was in.
Just sat there.
Reading.
Absolutely engrossed in his own little world.
The faint feeling of envy was always overshadowed by the joy of being allowed to unashamedly stare at him from the counter, leant on both elbows.
You'd brought him a coffee after those 90 minutes of silent reading, and he'd given you a quick wink and a smile as a thank you.
Customers filtered in and out, and you went from moments of it just being Joe in the store to having eight people needing your attention simultaneously. It was both busy and not, and the switches in energy had left you in a weird spot mentally.
You hadn't realised you'd fully skipped lunch.
You'd seen Joe dart out for some pastries, and you'd ordered Anne to get her ass into the back to go and eat something, but you never followed up on your "I'll take my lunch after."
It was why, in a moment of quiet, you'd picked up a box of books from behind the counter that had sort of been in the way the whole morning, you been unsuccessfull.
Maybe you'd gotten up too fast.
Or maybe the box was just too heavy.
The entire thing had taken you down quicker than you'd been able to get it off the floor. It didn't help that the box was open. The reflex of your body became about making sure none of the books would tip out and hit you in the face, when the reflex should've been about cushioning your fall.
You shot no arms out.
You didn't drop the box.
You just... fell.
The weight of the box pushed the air straight from your lungs and left you gasping.
The back of your head had hit the wooden floorboards so hard, you immediately saw stars.
After impact, for a short moment, it was pin-drop silent. Anne froze, pausing for a moment, listening. She was waiting for you to go "I'm all right!", but that never came.
Joe was ripped from his book at the sound of the fall, but was confused. One moment you'd been there, and then now, you were gone.
When a soft wincing gasp was heard from where you were hidden form his view, he was on his feet in an instant, rounding the counter and finding you there on the floor, box of books heavy on your stomach, eyes completely glazed over as you rapidly blinked up at the ceiling in an attempt to erase the fuzzy bits in your vision.
"Oh my G– Anne!" Joe was quick to remove the box and the books that were tumbling out. "Breathe. Careful, don't move, just focus on breathing." Joe advised as he watched you struggle.
"What dropped?" Anne asked, getting closer now and trying to find the source of the whack.
"She did."
"I know she did, but what was that–"
"That was her." Joe tried to make eye-contact. "Hey, just breathe, all right? Are you hurt?"
The eye-contact failed, as did answering Joe's question.
You hadn't even properly heard him it felt like.
Anne and Joe shared a look, for a moment both unsure of what to do. Who was going to take the lead on this? Joe didn't work there, but Anne was a literal teenager.
Before they could even think of discussing a game plan, you incoherently asked through a constricted panicked voice if anyone had thought of the fire escape. They both turned to look at you, both faces frowning in confusion.
"Huh?"
"What was that?"
Joe and Anne spoke at the same time.
"I think I forgot. Are the bugs gone?" you winced as you moved a hand to where your head hurt, and Joe was quick in deciding he was going to have to be the one to call the shots on this. He'd clearly chosen to spend all day at the bookstore for a reason, so it seemed.
It took a little while for you to return to normal.
You babbled through some more disjointed chat whilst Joe carefully checked with his fingers if your head was bleeding. It wasn't, which was good. But you did wince in pain as he slowly felt around in your hair before you tried to sit up and take your shoes off.
Anne had to fight you back down onto the floor and sternly told you to relax whilst Joe slid his folded jacket underneath your head.
When your consciousness returned into the room, you were met by a girl sat by your side who was scrolling through concussion symptoms, and a guy stood up by your feet, talking to someone on the phone.
"What's going on?" You'd asked, and Anne had just casually said, "You fell."
Joe'd called your mum on your phone. Anne knew the code. Joe told himself he'd give her a stern talk about normal-people things like privacy later. Priorities lied elsewhere right now.
And then you'd thrown up into the box of books that had taken you down earlier.
Served it right, Joe thought.
Joe'd held your hair through it, and kept brushing back little pieces that kept falling into your face. His touches were so tender and gentle but they still hurt, and you were absolutely mortified. So fucking embarrassed. There was a fucking celebrity in the store and you were vomming into a box of books that, halfway through, got swapped for an empty bucket.
It smelled awful, and it probably was the most unattractive thing in the world.
You felt like the most unattractive thing in the world.
"Sorry you had to see that." you croaked when Anne handed you a glass of water to rinse your mouth.
"We think you're concussed."
Somehow, that made perfect sense.
"You took quite the tumble. The back of your head must be hurting."
You moved to sit with your back against a cupboard door, careful to not lean your head back too far, and Joe decided to stay put next to you. Keep an eye on you. Hold your hair back in case you weren't quite done throwing up yet.
Meanwhile, Anne had moved into the backroom and did her best in trying to save whatever books she could from where you'd thrown up over them.
"Do you have any pain anywhere else?"
You paused a second to focus on the feelings inside of your body, and then moved an arm to touch the opposite elbow.
"Your elbow? Are you bleeding?" Joe used a soft hand to move your arm so he could have a look. "Does it hurt a lot?" No broken skin. Joe hoped that maybe the blow he'd heard had been your elbow, and not your actual skull.
"Stop asking her a million questions!" Anne shouted from the back, like she hadn't been doing the exact same thing before.
"You'd tell me if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?" Joe's voice remained soft and warm for you. All kind and gentle.
For a moment, you just looked at him.
"Hi," he smiled, and he saw how you were trying to puzzle the situation together. "I'm Joe."
"I know who you are."
"Oh, that's great!" Joe exclaimed.
"Were you... did you happen to just be in here to buy books, or..."
Oh.
Not so great.
You knew who he was, but you didn't know who he was.
"Um, no, not really. I actually come in here a lot. I um... you let me hog one of the armchairs where I read books."
"You do?"
"Yea, it's awfully rude of me." Joe smiled. "But I'm lucky. You're very cool about it."
Joe could feel his chest swell at the faintest hint of a smile coming from you.
"He's your boyfriend." Anne bluntly interrupted as she stepped back into the storefront, and before you could even begin to process that wild bit of information, she added, "But not really. The two of you are... you're really weird about it."
It sounded like a weird joke, and you looked between the both of them to figure out what the punchline was, because you didn't get it.
Joe just smiled when you looked at him.
"She hates it."
"I do." Anne confirmed, walking across the store to move the sign on the door to 'closed'. Your mum was going to come by and pick you up to get your head checked and there was no way Anne wasn't going to go with.
Joe craned his head to watch Anne as she went to fetch the A-frame out front and then leant close and whispered, "We kind of like that she hates it."
That made you smile into your lap.
"Have you um..." you started, suddenly frowning. "Do you have a plaster for me?"
Joe's concern immediately grew again. He wasn't quite back where he was twenty minutes ago, when you'd laid right where he was sitting now, unable to catch your breath properly, but his eyes bulged like he was just as worried anyway.
"Why? Are you bleeding? Where?"
"I've not finished my homework."
"You've not..." Joe tried to make sense of something nonsensical before he realised he'd lost you again.
Joe wondered if he could let someone know he wasn't going to be able to leave the city tomorrow. Let alone the fucking country. The prospect of leaving you like this for a few weeks and having to actually do a job seemed impossible.
How was he not going to be thinking about you all the time?
To be fair, his life was already like that, a little.
But especially now; after all this, no one could expect him to not constantly worry if you were all right, could they?
"I don't think I've got any plasters for you, sorry."
"Oh," you seemed disappointed, but only for a second. "You bought Blindness from me."
There you were. Back again. God, he really did already miss you, even though you were right there.
"I did."
"You hadn't... you'd not read it, but you'd seen the film."
"I had."
"I remember."
"Read it in one day."
You'd likely be fine.
People got concussions all the time, didn't they?
"Sorry, I'm all over the place."
"You're not actually," Joe smiled. "You're right here."
Joe was going to leave the country tomorrow, and you'd stay with your mum until you'd be one hundred per cent again. You would keep the store closed, so there was no use in him hanging around anyway. And then, when you'd be all better, he'd pop back in on a random Tuesday morning without any warning, and then he could tell you all about today. You'd likely not remember a thing of it, all of it a lost moment to you, but one that he'd get to keep. Get to cherish. Get to share with you later.
"My head hurts..." you suddenly said like you'd only just realised it.
"Yea, you fell." Joe could go through this loop again, he didn't mind.
"I did?"
"Hmm, we think you're concussed. Your mum is coming to pick you up, have you checked out by a doctor to double check and make sure you're okay."
"We?"
Joe saw how you went to reach for the back of your head again, but before your fingers could disappear into your hair, the bell above the door chimed and Anne said, "No sign of her yet."
"That's Anne." Joe calmly explained, and then reached to grab hold of your hand, protecting you from touching your painful bits again. He'd make sure to hold it until your mum arrived.
Joe saw your eyes grow wide as you recognised him again, and smiled.
"And I'm Joe."
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mazzystar24 · 4 hours
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actually the hospital wing joke is starting to bother me a lot more because buck actually fucking died 😭and he didnt even change clothes from being at the hospital all day why would you say that to someone. ik it was a fakeout but bobby looked like he was fr coding on the table. and like just a couple weeks before chimney almost died?? like im sorry i only accept those kinda jokes from people who have known me for years and even then they can be a little upsetting.
thats the thing though!!!! id be perfectly fine with buck and tommy if they gave us more than actual crumbs. 709 felt like buck had more chemistry with ravi in the same scene that tommy was in! they’re supposed to be dating so why do they feel like colleagues? and why are the more emotional and vulnerable scenes getting given to EDDIE if they want me to support buck and tommy as a couple? why wasnt tommy at the hospital with them considering he’s said multiple times he wishes he had a family like the 118 does? why are the only times hes on screen now only establishing his jealousy and that gerrard exists? is that the only reason why hes still here?
actually i wanna get back to 706. it wouldve been so easy to keep tommy there but they wrote him out of most of the episode 😭 he couldve said for the bachelor party! he couldve helped them find chimney! he couldve done literally ANYTHING. chimney was confused as hell as to why he even showed up at the wedding at all 😭 but no!!! they had him show up, ignore what buck wanted, then leave so we could have buck and eddie performing their drunk mating rituals or whatever 🤸‍♂️ but yeah buddie who?
also im never letting go of the wedding singer comment btw because what was that. why did they make tommy reference a movie where the two leads in the ROMANTIC COMEDY start the story dating the wrong people. i feel insane about it actually. also him calling buck evan will forever confuse me until we get an actual acknowledgement in canon because literally why
and the humor falls so flat but eddie has the same type of humor and it never does. he was making fun of buck in 706 (the making chimneys wedding about him line) but it never actually felt serious to me?
anyway sorry for yelling in your inbox i have a lot of mixed emotions about this season -birthmark anon
Yes totally get that like I’m the same like me and my best friend will be saying downright horrendous trauma jokes to eachother that make people around us clutch their pearls but I feel like it takes a certain level of rapport to get to trauma joke level - ig not everyone is the same when it comes to that but I think that again the writers absolutely failed to give us enough bucktommy scenes that justify having this kinda line
AGHSKF NOT THE BUCK /RAVI AHJDKFKF 😭😭😭 THIS IS ESPECIALLY FUNNY WHEN YOU SEE THE BUCKTOMMY SCENE AT THE CEREMONY VS THOSE BUCKLEY DIAZ FAMILY STILLS (still bitter the scene got cut) like someone explain to me why the actual couple is coming across less couple-y
ALSO FR THO THE SARDONIC ENERGY IS JUST NOT BEING BALANCED RIGHT like it’s coming across more 🧍
Like i can’t remember who I was talking to the other day but I was saying like this 🧍emoji just embodies Tommy to me
EXACTLYYYYY LIKE PURELY UNHINGED TO HAVE SUCH AN EMOTIONAL EPISODE AND MAKE NO EFFORT TO USE THOSE EMOTIONAL BEATS TO DEVELOP THEIR DYNAMIC BUT INSTEAD CONTRAST THAT WITH THE VULNERABILITY BETWEEN BUCK AND EDDIE THIS EPISODE
AHSJKF we going back to 7x06 and that’s so valid of us AGSJKF DRUNK MATING RITUALS AHJDKFKF STOP IM CACKLING
THE WEDDING SINGER COMMENT HAUNTS ME ISTG BECAUSE EVERY NOW AND THEN ILL REMEMBER THIS COSTUME DETAIL AND WAKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT:
THE CALLING HIM EVAN THING I LEGIT MADE LIKE THREE THEORIES ON RANGING FROM POSITIVITY TO NEGATIVITY
YES ABOUT THE HUMOUR like there just isn’t that balance or lightness to even the joke out, like I’m a big dry humour and sarcastic girlie but it’s just not being delivered right in a way idk if it’s the writing or the acting or just the fact its most his very small screentime but it’s just falling flat to me
Never apologise for yelling in my inbox babe and same for the mixed emotions
Love ya birthmark anon byee 🫶🫶
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visenyaism · 16 hours
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Rhaegar dream anon back again to say that is all very fascinating, thank u for answering. How do you think it jives with the "Mad Queen" ending for Dany? I'm personally more on team Noble Sacrifice (the end of the Targs feels like a foregone conclusion atp), and it's largely bc her snapping a burning a city of people to death doesn't feel like it meshes with her arc
well i think the snapping and setting a city on fire because she hears the bells go off is like very transparently jon connington. it’s not going to be her that does that.
i think dany’s arc is largely driven by the fact that she wants 1)to have a home like the one she has imagined she had at the house with the red door and 2) to liberate people and make the world a better place. and everyone in her life has told her that the only way for her to do both of those things is to become the queen of Westeros and sit the iron throne, and I think there will probably be a point where she sort of realizes that that’s actually antithetical to what she wants.
I have spoken a little bit in the past about what I’d want her endgame to look like which I do think will probably end up being bittersweet, where she might not get what she wants, but does leave a better world behind her. I really doubt it is going to end in a Targaryen restoration (which is like this dystopian nightmare ending that can only culminate in another girl named daenerys realizing she’s pregnant on her 14th birthday. burn it down) but I also doubt it’s going to end in her going insane like she did in the show. I’m not sure if she’s going to sacrifice herself and im not sure i would like that. I would really like to see her just realize what she wants in life and then obtain it. she deserves some peace and quiet. 
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avatar-aaang · 2 years
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actually im still thinking about phil of the future
#personal#im going a little insane about it actually#just... idk maybe its just the media i consume or have seen around the internet#but rarely have i ever seen two characters with such good chemistry such good friendship that makes me go crazy#like from ep one it was like yes theyre best friends but maybe they belong together#and even when they got jealous they addressed it but never stopped to think maybe we are in love???#dummies!!#but they loved each other so much all the time??? constantly???#best friends through and through#and then when it was official it was like okay now i would like to see them remain the same best friends but now with acknowledgement that#their love is so deep#and it literally transcends time??? oh my god??????#did he get back to her? did she wait? did she make it??#how can you move on from a bond so strong?????#im going insane they worked so well together and then. he had to leave#and god i wish there had been another season to expand on their growth as friends and partners#how they would navigate the whole time thing#how nothing would change and yet everything would????#how all of his family members were willing to destroy the time core just so they could stay???#and it wasnt just for phil you know they all wanted to stay#and i just want to see them all happy#reunion episode at 20 yrs??? pls?????#and none of that over zoom stuff i want it done and shot like its 2004 again#anyway. nothing as sweet as when they were like yes?? we should be a couple for real?#and they were so excited bc they already were in everything but name#god. anyway.#dont mind me im just so emotional about a silly disney show from 18 yrs ago okay
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possamble · 1 month
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hiii everybody are you normal about Falin showing Laios the same little spell that Marcille showed her? are you normal about Falin remembering it fondly enough that it was one of the first things she showed her brother while trying to teach him magic?
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rapidhighway · 7 months
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trying to show you the absolute cinema i had the pleasure of watching in tonights dream. We could’ve had it all
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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
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2023 Brazilian Grand Prix - Sprint - Fernando Alonso
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fellhellion · 11 months
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feeling absolutely deranged about the o’hara brothers on this good eve </3
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medi-bee · 9 months
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These are the guys who have total martial control over the center of the galaxy? are you sure?
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cecedownbad · 6 months
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Hold On
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Summary: A missing child's case resurfaced so many memories you wished to keep buried. Sure enough, seeking comfort from the heavy feelings came by as a form of a person. [Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader] Part 2.
Warning: Child abduction, death of a child, angst, no Y/N, made up last name: Cyrus, made up case, light fluff, hurt/ comfort, not too romance-y but alluding to it, not proof read, I don't think the mystery/crime aspect is good but let me hear thoughts guys. Something extra in tags, read after the story.
Word Count: 4.1k
Part 1
I'm so sorry this took so long, my exams, mental health, projects, assignments allll just rolled in the past months, and I've been doing everything to stay on top of writing. It's rushed towards the end but with all that's going on I hope it's okay. If anyone is up for part 3, I'm all for it .
Enjoy
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"Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it."
-George Santayana
'Okay, let's see, Conrad Miller, 16 years old, went missing on June 12th, 2007. Last seen by the local church with one of the volunteers, she was questioned once but was never linked as she had a solid alibi, her name was Grace Cyrus.' Tara paused. 'So she took Conrad, no she definitely didn't just take him, poor kid is definitely not okay.'
'Right now Stephen is our priority, the anniversary of Steven's disappearance is in 4 days, so what does she want with him now?' You pace in the room, spinning a pen you grabbed in your hand. 'I think that's something only you can answer, what happened 4 days prior to Steven's disappearance?' Tara pondered, she sat down, looking at you, intent on finding answers. '4 days prior…that was the day my dad— Daniel had come to visit, they, Grace and him got into a fight and Stevie, Steven tried to "protect" Daniel in his own way, he thought Mom was going to hurt him…'
Was it then that this all weighed down on you? Words long lost had started pouring through the cracks of memories locked away. You were never in that station in that moment, no, now you were back there.
'Stevie, get back here! We can't stop them!'
'No! No let go! I don't want Dad to go, Mom's going to send him away!'
'Steven!'
No matter how hard you tried, he slipped from your tensed grasp, landing right between two enraged adults.
Pacing the floor helped gather your thoughts, a little better.
'What was the very last thing she said to you when you left?'
The thought of how it all ended passed through your minds, each time much like a bullet to the brain but you push it all down, now wasn't the right time for you. 'everything okay there?' Tara asked you, it's only been a few minutes since you and Tara confronted the idea that Grace might have done more than anyone could have put together.
'Yeah just a lot going on in my head, I think I need a breather.'
'Hold that thought, JJ and Luke are back with Daniel,'
Your hand now wrapped around the empty coffee mug, a dad you haven't spoken to for the last two decades, what would you have to say? or better yet, what would he say to you? This isn't an official reunion, it's an interrogation and who knows what will spill out of your mouth if you see the very first man in your life that disappointed you, taught you that having a person in your life was enough to make you fall apart.
'JJ and I will go in first, you sit tight.' Tara patted your shoulder giving it a good squeeze before heading out the conference room.
It was soon after that Rossi, Reid and Emily came back in, all three harnessing disappointment with their stride. 'Hey, what happened?'
'Well, Rosa was not in her home, we searched the house and by the looks of it, she hardly came back there.' Emily sat down with her legs crossed. 'but, her room had keepsakes, maybe from the time you lived with her?'
'What did she have?'
'She had pictures, some old folded drawings, and the weirdest one, an old juice box.' as Emily finished, you sat up from your chair, 'an old juice box? Do you remember what flavour?'
'I think it was Apple? Why? Does it have something to do with Steven?'
'…'
'Cyrus?'
'That, uh, it's nothing, I think sentimental feelings do surface no matter what kind of person you are.' You began fidgeting with your sleeves, your mind now slowly began recalling events that transpired long ago. 'Is there something else? It looks like you aren't sure about something.' Rossi eyed your movements, he knew something was keeping you. 'My mother, she'd never show any sign that she felt remorse, not even as far as I could remember.'
'Okay Reid, stay with her, I'm going to check in with JJ and the rest. Rossi? Do you mind?' soon after, Rossi and Emily exited the room, leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. 'Could you tell me what kind of person your mother is?' Spencer sat down right before you, urging you to take a seat right next to him and you did.
'She was an uptight woman, she loved to be in control of her life that meant being in control of mine too, it's why I left. She loved being seen.'
'Being seen? What do you mean?'
'She was always a respected figure no matter where she went, be it at work or in the neighborhood, she pushed for that at home too. When Steven had disappeared, I would always remember how she would tell me he was in a better place, and that if I do anything to disobey her or question her authority, I would be punished.' your head hung as you remembered more, 'I would study, day and night, that was the only life I knew, if my grades dropped by a mark, she'd lock me in my room, made sure I only had books on my desk.'
'Did Daniel ever drop by after what happened to Steven?' Spencer asked gently, 'No, I never saw him after that, I thought he finally got sick of mom and left, but I see now that wasn't the case.'
'Okay—'
'You know the one thing I can't seem to remember though?' you looked up at Spencer, his eyebrows now furrowed in question. 'My mother would always say how beautiful I am, and…and that I look just like her, her very own reflection but, Spencer, I can't…I can't remember her face.' your voice sounded shattered at what came out of it. You felt the tears fall, but you couldn't turn away or hide them, Spencer saw just how much this hurts you.
'You are your own person, no one can ever take that from you, no matter what, you are you.' He held your hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of your palm, that gave you a sign of comfort and you smiled at him. 'Alright, let's get back to the case.' quickly wiping away your tears and pasting on a smile, which you flash at Spencer, he in turn regained a more unmoving figure. 'When you said Rosa knew that Steven would never come back, what did you mean?'
'I was only a kid but to me it felt like she already knew that Steven had maybe...and all I could remember was a frown anytime I even remotely related to Steven.' You return with an answer. It was then the phone on the table went off.
'What is it Garcia?'
'So I dug into Daniel a bit more, and you aren't going to like this, so he was actually never in Bakersfield until a week ago, before that he was working as a cab driver in Nevada. He was in Nevada for a long time, but he touched base sometime in 2007, in the month of June. Looks like he tried several times to contact his ex wife but she never entertained any of it. What is concerning is that he was reported of stalking a young boy, said he mistook the boy for a boy he knew and he meant no harm but he was fired from his workplace and when was that? A little before coming over to Bakersfield.' Once Garcia had informed both of you, it was then JJ, Emily and Luke walked back in.
'What did the boy look like?' Spencer asked, 'I sent his picture to your phone.'
'Thank you Garcia.' You picked up your cell and scrolled through to find the image.
'No problemo.'
Upon quick inspection, you could tell at a glance the young boy and Steven shared a few similarities, nothing too obvious except hair colour and facial structure, age is the more obvious factor.
JJ walked in, arms crossed, she sighed but began asking what Garcia checked in for, 'Looks like Daniel was fired from his work place prior to coming to Bakersfield a week before Stephen's abduction.' You informed the three.
'If I didn't know any better, I'd say that's a trigger for him.' Emily began, 'Yeah, I agree.' and Luke followed suit.
'So he not only gets rejected by his ex-wife, but fired from his work place for stalking a boy that looks like his son, then he goes and kidnaps a boy that Rosa seemingly dotes on? Something doesn't add up.' JJ looked on with confusion. 'How did it go with him?' you asked finally.
'Said he had something vital for the case but he would only discuss it with you.' Emily sat down, her voice already etching with exhaustion. 'He's hiding something and my gut is saying it can't be good.'
'I'll go talk to him.' You were close to leaving the room, but Emily had halted your motions.
'Wait,'
'Yeah?'
'Reid will go with you, Tara might want to step out.' You gave a quick nod to Emily's order.
Every step to the interrogation room, you could hear the pained voices of yours, more precisely, from when you were a child. A young girl, alone in a room with nothing but her thoughts, you swallowed hard as you stood by the entrance of the viewing room. When you entered, you let Spencer call Tara from the interrogation room to the viewing room. 'No matter what, don't give in to his requests, you need to break him down, and if you ever want to leave, you can.' Tara gave you a small nudge and she stayed back in the room.
This was it, you let Spencer lead you into the interrogation room, allowing him to get there before you creeped on behind.
'How many times do I need to tell you people? Can't you bring my daug—you, your—'
'Let me be very clear, you have something vital for this case and I'm willing to hear you out, but say or do anything and you will be escorted out of the door by agents, understood?' the firm voice you let out hid every sorry cry that was wailing in you, having not seen your father for 20 years was a shock but not something that should be seen. 'Look at you, what it's been 15, 20 years, oh my beautiful little angel, I missed you.' honey coated words slipped from his mouth and every cell in you twisted in anger and contempt, 'Mr. Carter, the case.' Spencer stepped in this time.
'Always in such a hurry, well, since you brought my little girl. I know where the kid is being held.' He sat there with no remorse, no care that a child, close to the age of the son he lost years ago, was missing.
'Where might that be?'
'I can take you there, but I'll only go if she goes with me.'
After so long, he cares or at least that's what he's showing but you knew what he was playing at, he thought he could get away light just because his flesh and blood was in the justice system, what a sorry bastard.
'I think we're done here.' Spencer had got up from his chair but you stayed seated, deal or not you wanted to break the man in front of you and that was what was nailing you down to your chair. 'Mr. Carter, what good will it do if I went with you? Was it not enough that you came in here demanding to see your daughter about a case I know damn well you don't care about?' you pressed, choice of words were clearly targeted but your composure remained cool. 'What do you mean, you know what happened to Stevi—'
'Your son that you never bothered to report missing? I don't believe you have a right to bring that up, Sir.'
'Now listen here—'
'In the time Rosa had left you behind, you did nothing but fail to bring yourself together, I have a question for you, what were you doing on June 12th, 2007? Why did you come back to Bakersfield prior to that date?' you swiped through the tablet that Tara handed to you, it contained everything Garcia had found including some case files. 'I don't know why you're asking me that, don't you have the life of a boy to save?' He avoided it with such harshness, you only wanted to pry further but somehow it felt like you knew the answer, but the words never fell into place.
'Answer the question Daniel.' Spencer sat back down now jabbing at him as well. 'I just had someone to meet, is that really so important?'
'Why did you need to meet them? Did you coming back here have anything to do with Rosa Cyrus, your ex-wife?' Your slowly tapped at the desk, it was a timed beat. 'I did visit her once but that—'
'Were you aware that a teenager was reported missing around the same time you arrived here? His name was Conrad Miller, he was 16 years old.'
'W-what? I-I don't know anything about that.'
'Really? Because it says in the case files that Rosa was the last person to have seen Conrad, but you knew that didn't you?' He flinched at the response, at this point he wore a sign that screamed suspicious.
It was then that Daniel remained silent, you believed that any word that came out of him at that point would dig his grave deeper.
You stepped out of the room and walked into the room behind the mirror. 'Now he won't speak,' Rossi now stood there with his arms in his pocket.
'We need to find Rosa and Stephen soon, the man is hiding something and Rosa is the key to finding out why.' Rossi took the words right out of your mouth, looks you both knew what he was playing at.
'I think I can help with that, how much can you guys bet on a gut feeling?' You asked the three of them, weary of their answer, 'At this point? I'll take it.' Rossi let out, the two soon followed. 'Rosa will most likely be at the house we used to live in, which is not in this area, I'm hoping that she's keeping Stephen safe,'
'Safe? How come?' Tara asked you, 'Daniel here, came a week prior to Stephen's abduction, not only did he lose his job before coming here, he needed to have a reason to come here,' you deduce.
'His reason being Rosa? But wouldn't that not trigger Rosa?' Looks like you still needed to elaborate your theory, so you continued. 'It did, Rosa having heard that Daniel came here must have caused her protective instinct to kick in, call me crazy, but I think Rosa is keeping Stephen away from Daniel.' you finally let out a sigh, your palms clammed from sweat but if you were right, the little boy you came here for was safe.
'A mother's protective instinct, I'm guessing that something happened 20 years ago that she didn't agree on, which caused her to completely reject this guy, I'll have Garcia send the address of her prior location.' Rossi curtly exited the room, Tara followed along.
Spencer stood before you in silence, you didn't register any movement from him because all your focus was on the man, sitting on the other side of that glass.
'You can go on ahead, Reid, I need to talk to him.' 
'But I can't let you go in alone...'
You huffed, your eyes did what it could but meet his but looking away won't make what you want go away, 'Given the chance, I might punch the daylights out of him—'
'More of a reason for me to stay.' 
Spencer interrupted, you returned with a sharp look in your eyes before you relaxed, 'Let me finish, I would want to give him a piece of my mind but I need to know, I just, he's the only one that has got to know something about Steven, maybe I can finally put him to rest.' 
It was selfish, that's what you called it, asking for just one more clue when you couldn't do anything before. Maybe now that helpless little girl all those years ago, can see her brother off. 'I need to do this, alone...'
'...' 
You stood there, waiting for something, a sound from him in response, anything at all. 'I'll wait here, being short of another agent will not slow down the rest of the team.' He'd finished but his response ticked you, it poked at the idea of a child being monitored by their parents.
'I don't need you watching my every move, Reid.'
'I'm just following orders.'
'Following orders? Do I look like a child to you? Do I need a leash around my neck too? I can handle him, he's one man!' Your voice raised, and you stared up at your fellow colleague with a ray of contempt.
'A man you can't stand being around for long, you sounded just fine in there earlier to anyone that watched, but do you want to know what I saw? I saw that you were holding back, hard enough your hands curled at his answers, your feet apart was enough for me to know that you would have given Emily a reason for you to be dismissed from the case.' He'd stated what was right, but it wasn't right to you, not right now, you don't know when it would be. 'I'll wait here, you can go in alone.'
Your feet put you in place for a good moment, his words tore right through you. He was right, somewhere in your clouded judgement, you understood he was right, but just because you understood doesn't mean you accepted it.
With a second left to pass, you turned from Spencer. All in silence, it was accepted that you had a job to uphold, no matter the personal toll.
-------------------------------
The dial ups in the station, voices of police officers, movement all around you had become void. Nothing, that's what you heard when you left the interrogation room, you couldn't even hear one Agent calling out to you when you had left. Something gathered, something rotten had formed in your stomach. Your body felt hot, your head on a swivel.
You felt the acid burn at your throat, the half conscious part of you managed to drag your feet to a bathroom stall for you to expel the choux pastry you ingested.
Standing before the mirror now, you washed your mouth, feeling the remnants of the expelled food at your throat.
Nothing felt right to you, not right then, not right now. Having no mind to lose any more time, Reid waited in the conference room as you begrudgingly walked yourself back into it. You said nothing.
You dialed in Emily immediately, hoping she hadn't reached the house yet. 'What have you got for me Cyrus?' 
'I spoke to Daniel.'
'What did he say?'
'He'd been sending frequent messages and calling my mother, they met once, 2007. There was an argument and Conrad had gotten in-between the two of them, it didn't end well.' you informed her, almost mechanically.
'What did he say about Steven?' JJ chimed in.
'Steven was, he said he was never meant to be hurt and Rosa in the mess of things, covered up for him. He told me where...I know where his body is.' Your voice strained, as it got to harsher details.
Nothing came out though, you tried filling in the rest of the details but your voice was overtaken. A pleading look carried over to Spencer and he took over. 'He said that you have to ask where he's sleeping, Rosa's delusion right at this moment is that Steven would come back.'
'Okay, we'll get back to you as soon as we're done here.' The line cut. If you'd carried a boulder on your shoulders, the weight of it might be the same as your conscience. All that was left was you see a family reunited and you get the closure you've been searching for.
------------------------------
The team was back, so was the little boy, he was safe. The Turner family could now go home with their son safe and sound in their grasp.
'Nothing beats seeing that.' you stood, satisfied in a way, the others agreed in unison to your words.
'Cyrus, I need to have a word with you.' Emily called you to a secluded corner of the station, but you had no fear built in you, in fact you felt rather empty, exhausted enough to be emotionally drained. 'We found Steven...' she said quietly.
'Where was he?' you met her in the eyes, having nothing left to tie you down. 'Remains were found in the wall of a small bedroom, it looked like he was initially buried but moved there later.' Every word had struck you, the smaller bedroom was your shared one, no doubt. 'Was he, uh, covered?' a crack sounded in your voice.
It took Emily a moment before answering, 'He was...' 
The last bit of remorse. You'd promised yourself for 20 years that he was found. Part of you wanted him to be alive, maybe he ran off and just found a better life or he was on the streets, alive at least. But you knew how far-fetched that sounded, hope was the one thing you were aware that could end you. '...Thank you, can I, um, I want to be alone.'
'Of course, take all the time you need, listen, once this is over I need to speak with you, but only when you're ready, okay?' She patted the side of your shoulders, adhering to your request, she left you alone.
You let out a wavered breath, trying to breathe in and out to calm yourself. What you needed now was to mourn, you knew that but having a hard cry at this moment would slow down everyone.
Not long after, Rosa and Daniel had gotten arrested. You couldn't catch a glimpse at her face, or more accurately, you refused to see the face you'd forgotten. That didn't bother you that much, as a mother she never cared to look out for you, there wasn't any good reason to remain adherent to the details.
Bakersfield PD would have no more reason to have you stay, for now at least but before you could leave it all behind, Steven deserved a proper burial.
The Funeral was small, no relatives, just few friends from school and the BAU were attending, with Chief Marks as well to pay respects.
You stood over the coffin, looking at how small it was, how it all came to an end, all in silence. Quietly you watched as the coffin was buried, soil tossed over it but before it was over, you had to have one last goodbye.
'I did what I promised, took you long enough to come back from playing, huh? You must be tired, rest well, Stevie.' The Carnation held in your hand had been placed on the coffin, a mark of innocence now put to rest. Once it was all over, you stood, not waiting or expecting anything but just, letting the weight gradually let go of you. This was what you needed yet, it didn't feel enough, something remained in you. 
Footsteps were heard behind you, and you took a peak at the intruder before lifting the corners of your mouth to him. 'He was a handful you know, always wanted my attention no matter what, saying that one day he'd make it to the moon just so he could get me some space rock.' Spencer said nothing to your bouts of reminiscence, 'He told me once, "I'm going to be no.1, so watch me!" I thought he was being silly, Dad left right after and we were alone, it was us against the world.' It all came back, then you knew what you hadn't let go, knew what it was that made you feel utterly at loss. 
'Hey, Spencer, you don't have to do this, but, um, I...' You wanted to ask just for a bit, that little comfort that you so desperately pushed away.
Without another word, he lightly turned to face you. Your mind was too caught up on other memories that when you felt his arms wrap around you, you didn't think for that second. All it took was this to let it all go, no longer in silence but in wailing agony.
He didn't need another word, he simply knew. It was like some crazed superpower of his but it's like he's always known.
He couldn't let go.
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Tagging:
@treehouse-mouse
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polarmary · 6 months
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Happy Birthday to this crazy woman with whom I’m completely normal about :)
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retros-artandstuff · 5 days
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vriska + a transmasc dave doodle
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#tryna get into colored pencils again we'll see how it goes#its been a while since ive done a good tag ramble#but like i dont hv anything to ramble about#my art#traditional art#doodles#fanart#homestuck#homestuck fanart#dave strider#dave strider fanart#vriska serket#vriska fanart#oh actually i do hv smth to ramble about today#that being scheduled posts#yknow scheduled posts are actually really convinient and helped me quite a bit#like i used them for a couple months and honestly really liked useing them cuz it allowed me to hv a pretty consistent posting schedule#but in the end i just didnt feel right with it mostly due to the fact that even with it set to post three times a week it felt weird to hav#some of my drawings posting weeks after i finished them. like they were old news to me already but they were barely being released to every#one else it just felt weird for me ig. not to mention that like on the rare occassions that i didnt have anything to post i felt obliged to#draw smth just so i would have smth to post and most of the time that led to me being unhappy with my art. so now ive just decided like fuc#it imma post whenever i want and honestly im really happy with that even if i might be going a little trigger happy with the posting button#recently lmao. ive just been drawing a whole lot and hv so much to post its insane. hell i still hv things in my gallery that i needa post#but ill save those for the next couple of days lol but yeah thanks for coming to my very long ted talk/ramble and goodnight 😴#damn im such a yapster what the hell
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distant-velleity · 5 months
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Stay With Me
Summary: Santiago and Chrysos have a lot of feelings to work out. Spoiler alert: they still don't confess. Word count: 2.6k Warnings: major character not-actually death (this is my Boxing Day gift to you all) A/N: I wish I could've put Major Character Death as a real warning. Alas... such is life. Anyway :) I'm super done with writing this, I don't wanna keep going insane, I'm just gonna post it as is. It's actually pretty tame for angst on my part. Enjoy!! Tagging: @thehollowwriter (finn mention!!!) @kitwasnothere and @nahelenia as my top 3 murderers <3
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When Santiago comes to, groggy and lightheaded, he’s greeted by the watered-down sun filtering through the seas of Octavinelle above him. Bird and sky separated only by the glass and several gallons of water, his limbs sure feeling as distant and heavy as the ocean.
Ah, he thinks, ever-intelligently. How did I end up here…?
He can’t quite remember. All of his recent memories are escaping like soap bubbles in the wind. 
While he racks his brain trying to figure it out, someone approaches and kneels next to him. A single glance at the person’s blonde hair and red eyes tells Santiago all he needs to know.
“Sorry about that,” Chrysos says, monotone as always. It’s hard to tell if the merman really is sorry or not. “I usually don’t get normal customers involved when 86’ing nuisances.” 
Santiago can’t help the smirk that comes to him all too easily. “Are you sure I wasn’t the nuisance?”
“Hard to say,” replies Chrysos with an amused huff. He stands back up and offers Santiago a hand, to help him stand up.
Something about it feels off—maybe because Chrysos’ gaze seems so benevolent, that he seems so unbothered about gently helping someone he’d normally be too embarrassed or proud to. Still, Santiago laughs and sits up. “Tight-lipped as always,” he comments, and reaches for Chrysos’ hand, pulling himself up to stand.
They hold hands for a moment longer than they need to. It feels, if he dares to admit it just to himself, nice—
“Hold it.”
As if he’s been burned, Santiago jumps away from Chrysos at the sound of Azul’s voice. Approaching them are the Octavinelle housewarden and his entourage of three. 
Santiago notices, with a distant sense of dread, that he’s never seen Chrysos look so furious and disappointed upon seeing his upperclassmen. 
“Get back, Parrotfish,” Floyd warns. “That’s not the right Lionfishie to be getting all buddy-buddy with.”
How odd. Why would Floyd, of all people, go out of his way to warn him?
Santiago glances at the Octaquartet, then at Chrysos, whose expression is steadily darkening.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chrysos says coldly.
“My, my.” Jade conceals his magic pen, clasped tightly in one hand, beneath the other. “There’s no need for that frigid tone. I’m sure we’re already on the same page.”
“No?” interjects Santiago. “No, we’re not. What’s going on?”
Finn looks him dead in the eye and then cocks his head towards Chrysos. 
Santiago turns back around, and everything changes. 
Where Chrysos was just standing as normal, there’s suddenly inky shadows surrounding the Octavinelle freshman. His eyes flare red-and-yellow as the ink (no, blot) viciously wraps around him in strands to form a cocoon of sorts. Santiago staggers back when the cocoon contracts, a dark purple haze spreading throughout the area and blocking out the sun. The whole dorm is plunged into a deep-sea darkness.
It’s Chrysos and a towering Phantom now, him hovering a little too close to the glowing pendant around its neck for anyone’s liking. 
“We’re running out of time,” Azul says grimly. “Our fight from earlier didn’t do anything—”
“I’ll help fight him if it cuts down on time,” Santiago immediately declares without missing a beat. “If it saves his life.”
“Of course you would. Well, stay sharp, then.”
And Santiago tries, of course—
—but it doesn’t stop him from misfiring at some point, trying to hit the Phantom, only for it to grab Chrysos with a sickening crunch of his ribs and hold him up in range of the destructive fire spell. Santiago can only watch as it strikes Chrysos indiscriminately. 
The resulting wail of agony is bloodcurdling and unbearable, but not nearly as much as when the Phantom moves a thrashing Chrysos closer and closer to its chest, a gaping hole like a beast’s maw forming there, the pendant dangling right before it.
“Wait—”
It’s what all the teachers warn about when they discuss the occurrences of Overblots. Defeat the Phantom, and the victim will come out unscathed. Take too long to destroy it, and the Phantom will… will…
Chrysos is brought to that gap, drawn in like an object near a black hole.
Santiago can’t breathe. 
He can’t bring himself to close his eyes either. Even when a sinking feeling blossoms in his stomach, gripping him with all the force of a predator’s claws.
The ‘hand’ of the Phantom squeezes, another crunch of body parts that shouldn’t be breaking—
“Don’t you dare take him—let him go—” Santiago begs, but it’s useless.
The Phantom simply. Tucks Chrysos away in itself like nothing. Ignorant to his furious, fearful screams. 
The hole in its chest closes over with viscous blot. 
Santiago can’t look away.
“Ah… Ahh…”
He 
can’t 
look 
away—
“AAAAAHHHHH—!!!”
A guttural scream tears its way out into the open from Santiago’s raw throat, burning and hoarse and painful. Still begging for a life not his own, his eyes fly open as he sits up in a grieving frenzy. “Chrysos, please, don’t leave—!”
“I’m right here,” calls a familiar voice from beside him, miraculously free of its terrifying Overblot overlay. It’s melodious and soothing, easy on the ears, just when he thought he’d never hear it again.
“You—” Santiago’s hand shoots out without thinking, clamping down on Chrysos’ where it was gripping the edge of his blanket.
…his… blanket…?
Only then does Santiago realize, half-delirious, that he’s on a bed in the school infirmary. He’s not in Octavinelle, he’s not surrounded by torrents and mists of pure blot. The air is clear here, and the sun is shining bright and pleasant through the windows like it does through the forest canopy back home. Although his lungs still burn a little, everything’s okay.
And, looking at the boy sitting right next to him—Chrysos is okay. He’s alive. 
In silent awe, Santiago squeezes the cold, ungloved hand in his a little more tightly.
He’s alive.
Chrysos bites his lower lip and pointedly avoids looking at their joined hands. “What a nightmare you were having,” he says, false indifference in his tone. “Screaming like that… You’re lucky the nurse isn’t in right now.”
Santiago blinks. “A nightmare?” 
“Yes. You were trembling and crying out in your sleep. If it weren’t the first time you’d shown any signs of movement in days…” Chrysos trails off, brows pressed tightly together.
Putting aside the fact that it was all little more than a bad dream, thank the Great Seven— “What do you mean, in days?” Santiago echoes disbelievingly. “I don’t even know how I ended up here, and you’re telling me I’ve been unconscious for days? Hello? Way to hit me with the double whammy.”
It was an attempt to lighten the mood for both their sakes, but when the corners of Chrysos’ mouth twitch downwards and his lips thin in a stressed frown, Santiago immediately realizes he’s said something either really wrong or really stupid. Or both.
“You don’t remember what happened at the SDC?” asks Chrysos. “Weren’t you there? You know, for Schoenheit’s Overblot, like Yu said…”
Santiago’s eyes widen. He only slightly loosens his grip on Chrysos’ hand a second later. “Oh, you mean—”
Toxic purple mist surrounded them, reeking of a sickly sweet concoction. 
More saccharine still was the smile on Vil’s face. Even as blot dripped down his snow-white face from beneath his elaborate crown, he still found it in himself to pursue being the fairest one of all. 
Showing simultaneously all and nothing of his burning jealousy and bitterness.
“—yeah, I remember,” he continues, letting out a laugh with no real humor in it. “I even remember getting a faceful of poisonous mist and then passing out right after the awards ceremony ‘cause I tried to act tough.”
“At least your brain wasn’t permanently damaged. That’s good,” remarks Chrysos with a half-hearted smirk. “Maybe you’ll be out of here sooner than I thought.”
No, there was definitely a screw knocked loose if Santiago was imagining Chrysos Overblotting in place of Vil… much less sobbing desperately at the possibility of his death…
…Santiago swallows, mouth suddenly dry for no good reason. “Uh-huh? I don’t know, I still feel a little off.”
He nearly jumps out of his skin when Chrysos suddenly leans forward, hand subconsciously moving at lightning speed to place itself on Santiago’s wrist. “You still feel off? You’re not messing with me, are you?” he asks, voice demanding with a hint of… something else. “I swear, I will have the nurse over here faster than—”
“Whoa! Don’t get your boxers in a twist, jeez!” Santiago exclaims, and Chrysos halts immediately. “Am I still dreaming? Did you just gaslight me into thinking this is reality? I mean, seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worried about me.”
“I’m not worried,” retorts Chrysos, although the watery look in his eyes as he tries to meet Santiago’s gaze says otherwise. And where there would normally be an underlying bite to his tone, it’s totally absent. “Isn’t it fair to ask questions when a certain someone has been unconscious for days?”
Nevermind, I’m definitely not still dreaming.
“So you’ve been worried about me. Got it.” Hopefully that isn’t giddiness bubbling up in his chest, despite—or because of—the way Chrysos sputters out another denial, because it sure as hell is conflicting with his sense of spite. “Why don’t you save any of it for yourself? You’ve been a resident here way more often than me.”
Chrysos stiffens, before puffing up a little; chin lifted indignantly and gaze judgmental. Santiago wouldn’t have it any other way.) “I was conscious all those times and did not actively inhale dangerous toxins made by a very powerful mage.”
Seriously, this guy… Santiago shakes his head. “Dude, I heard you nearly turned yourself into sand that one time, also because of ‘a very powerful mage.’ I saw for myself when you could’ve died fighting Jamil or Overblotted at the same time and had to stay in the infirmary for a very lengthy check-up. You know, you—” 
died in my dream because of me and I would never forgive you or myself for that matter if that actually happened,
“—are a grade-A idiot getting hung up on the wrong details,” he decides to say instead. “One of these days, you’re gonna end up back here and I’m gonna get to say ‘I told you so.’”
“Hmph.” Chrysos scoffs and turns his head away. To anyone else, it might look aristocratically prim and stuck-up in the way his hair tosses slightly. “You wouldn’t come running to my bedside crying out my name, then?”
It’s Santiago’s turn to stiffen, feeling called out in too many ways. “...fuck, I forgot you heard me talking in my sleep. Well…” He pauses, searching for an appropriate response. “I would if you wanted me to.” He doesn’t have time to appreciate how smooth that was on his part before his traitorous mouth moves faster than his brain, going right ahead and saying, “And I’d still do it even if you didn’t want me to, ‘cause if you die on me I’m absolutely going to—”
Crap! Backtrack, backtrack, backtrack!
He shuts up immediately before he can incriminate himself any more, pursing his lips and watching carefully for signs of a negative reaction.
Almost too neutrally, Chrysos glances back over at him from the corner of his eyes, the piercing look in his irises only partially hidden by his lashes. “...You really would be that concerned?”
“Maybe,” Santiago answers, pasting on a nervous smile.
“‘Maybe’ isn’t an acceptable response.” Chrysos looks him straight in the eyes. His hand feels warmer, for some reason. “Don’t be shy. What would you do?”
Santiago huffs defensively. “Fancy that, you telling me to not be shy—”
“Santiago. Stop messing with me already.”
That tone, desperate and curious and impatient all in one, is singlehandedly more commanding than any other order Santiago has ever gotten in his life. 
The beastman slumps back against the headrest, being sapped of his will to argue. He already knows it’s pointless. It’s kind of hard to beat around the bush when the bush has already slapped you in the face with a very thorny nightmare. “Miss you, probably. I mean, I dreamed about it, but…” 
He thinks about the way he screamed and forced himself to wake up because that scenario had seemed so real. Probably can only begin to describe whatever he was feeling.
“...Well. You’re the only person who’s ever gotten me, y’know, so don’t die because you couldn’t help yourself. I don’t wanna have to cope with my dream becoming reality. Please,” he finishes lamely.
“Oh.” Chrysos stares blankly at him for a moment, then at their hands. “...oh,” he repeats, in a much quieter ‘sudden realization’ sort of voice.
Santiago squints at him. “Dude. What kind of guy tells his buddy to open up about his feelings in such a pleading tone and then is surprised when he actually opens up about it?”
“The one right next to you who was expecting his buddy to dodge the question again.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Santiago replies, rolls his eyes. 
Chrysos worries his bottom lips, gaze shifting to the side suspiciously quickly. It looks like he’s considering something.
“...Are you taking that literally?” Santiago wants Chrysos to take what he said literally, to be honest, but that’s beside the point.
“Because you’re so dense, yes,” Chrysos snaps back. His free hand comes up to tug one of his curls closer to his face in that bashful way he always does. “If you died like you could’ve from Schoenheit’s poison, I would march right over to the afterlife and drag you back into the world of the living. Then I’d beat you into the ground for hurting me like that. Your ass is not leaving this life until I say it’s okay to. Does that make enough sense to you?” 
“I don’t remember the story of the musician and his muse being this violent,” mutters Santiago, feeling incredibly touched despite the brash nature of that admission. Or maybe because of it.
Chrysos’s cheeks flush as red as the ends of his hair. “You asked. I delivered. Look who’s being a hypocrite now.”
“Touché.” 
It feels like something between them has… changed, when they both fall silent for lack of things to say. Not in the terrifying way Santiago’s surroundings shifted during his nightmare, but a change for the better. Like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders, making the silence bearable.
“I… think I may need to go,” Chrysos says, a dusting of pink still on his face. Maybe because he’s spoken too much, or at least by his own standards. He stands up, letting go of Santiago’s hand. “Culture fair and. All that. You know how it is. I’ll see you—”
“Wait a minute.”
Santiago reaches out and, instead of just grabbing, intertwines their fingers. His longer ones settle perfectly between Chrysos’ knuckles as if they were meant to be there. 
The merman goes still. 
“Hypothetically,” Santiago begins, “if I asked you to stay a little longer—would you say yes?”
Chrysos’ mouth opens, freezes, and then closes. When he next speaks, it’s slow and cautious, like he’s testing out how the words actually feel. Testing the waters. “In this hypothetical scenario… I could be convinced to stay. Possibly.”
“Cool. So don’t run away just yet. Stay here with me.”
They make eye contact.
“...How persuasive. Well—” Chrysos sighs and sits back down, before offering Santiago a small smirk. Barely noticeable, but there. “It seems like I’ve actually got plenty of time to spare all of a sudden.”
Santiago can’t help but smile too.
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ebbpup · 12 days
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(in reference to evil fryeputer) how would you think evil computer ended up in splatsvile? (i can't remember how it's spelled but yk)
asking out of curiosity and also fanfiction potential
he ends up there after he "dies" i'd imagine. due to the sheer power of computer's beam that killed him mixed with his own powers at the time, it messed with space and time a bit, causing him to be teleported into the splatoon world. he probably falls out of the sky, creating a huge crater when he lands. his powers are gone and he's returned to his original size (although he still has the tail, horns and the extra button because why not).
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avatar-aaang · 2 years
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actually im still thinking about phil of the future
#personal#im going a little insane about it actually#just... idk maybe its just the media i consume or have seen around the internet#but rarely have i ever seen two characters with such good chemistry such good friendship that makes me go crazy#like from ep one it was like yes theyre best friends but maybe they belong together#and even when they got jealous they addressed it but never stopped to think maybe we are in love???#dummies!!#but they loved each other so much all the time??? constantly???#best friends through and through#and then when it was official it was like okay now i would like to see them remain the same best friends but now with acknowledgement that#their love is so deep#and it literally transcends time??? oh my god??????#did he get back to her? did she wait? did she make it??#how can you move on from a bond so strong?????#im going insane they worked so well together and then. he had to leave#and god i wish there had been another season to expand on their growth as friends and partners#how they would navigate the whole time thing#how nothing would change and yet everything would????#how all of his family members were willing to destroy the time core just so they could stay???#and it wasnt just for phil you know they all wanted to stay#and i just want to see them all happy#reunion episode at 20 yrs??? pls?????#and none of that over zoom stuff i want it done and shot like its 2004 again#anyway. nothing as sweet as when they were like yes?? we should be a couple for real?#and they were so excited bc they already were in everything but name#god. anyway.#dont mind me im just so emotional about a silly disney show from 18 yrs ago okay
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possamble · 2 months
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realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille
#possramble#ignore this im just babbling but#the thing is that like. i don't ship laios and marcille together. their relationship is so so important to me in that laios comphets himsel#and THINKS that he might be in love with her but he isn't and that's my insane obsession#platonic soulmates for real but they're so sweet together that i fully expect them to be shipped together#like i get it. that's almost the appeal for me. if dungeon meshi were any other series there'd be an epilogue where they get married#convention dictates that they're meant to be together as the male protagonist and his beloved female deuteragonist#but dungeon meshi DOESNT do that and i love it so fucking much they're the comphet besties ever for my strange little brain#like if i ever did an arranged marriage au it would absolutely be laios and marcille having a platonic political marriage and then just#the most insane mutual pining with marcille and falin while laios and marcille struggle their way into becoming best friends#the imagery of the king and his beautiful court mage being tender to each other and everyone thinking they're in love is like catnip to me#like yeah they'd be like that and have no idea people think they should be together and the subversion makes me so obsessed#the more people ship them romantically. the more i enjoy their platonic dynamic it's like some sort of weird comphet fetishism idk#people think they're in love and im outside the window like YES... YES!!!#but also the second i see stuff of them kissing on the mouth or fucking im like oh god no i went too deep in here i gotta get out#don't wanna see that. i'll go feral over the idea of laios and marcille being arm-in-arm like king and queen but they would not fuck.#i want marcille to be his default comphet beard and dance partner/plus one at official royal events but they're not kissing.#she's there on his arm because he's scared of the other noble women tryna get him and being a baby about it#and people see them muttering to each other and laughing and generally being very sweet and think that they're dating but they're not.#she's actually covered in hickies from falin underneath her dress and is gonna get dragon dicked right after the party is over#like she's in her bedroom and falin's helping her take her ridiculous dress off while listening to her complain about politics#and falin is the person she goes home to the person she falls asleep to and wakes up with#they're a triad of utter devotion to each other but only farcille's side of the triangle is romantic#it's almost like an open secret because they're not trying to hide it at all but people assume and are surprised to find out#like people are so right about her relationship with the toudens but with the siblings' roles switched#love of her life & irreplaceable life companion. does anyone get it#anyway. i don't know what's wrong with me#it bothers me that they're not the undisputed most popular het ship for marcille on ao3#it's unnatural. marcille being paired with any other man should be a fringe case.
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