Take My Heart Why Don’t You

Take my heart why don’t you

*reading your tags*

👀 Sonic back in time?????

Okay so, context! Back when I was writing "Chart a Course to Second Chances," I found chapter 2 really, *really* hard to get through, for multiple reasons. Biggest of all being that it was so hard leaving Tails alone on Cocoa Island when he was just a baby! So to help cope with that chapter while I was writing it (over a year ago now, lol, omg) I started writing an AU of my own fic xD Where Sonic came across baby Tails during that time. It wasn't really meant to be anything on it's own. As the Picket Fence timeline started expanding though, I started toying with incorporating that scene as the C or D plot to my post-Frontiers fic! I still haven't decided on that because I'm still in such early stages of planning for that fic. It does reference "Chart a Course" quite a bit, like an extended scene, and references a few other Picket Fence specific things in passing. But since multiple people have expressed interest in it lately, I figured I can share what I've got as it's own standalone thing. So here is an older, modern Sonic coming across a baby Tails!

Sonic Back in Time Shenanigans WIP #1

They appeared in the middle of a downpour. Sonic frowned and covered his quills with his hands as he glanced up at the sky like it had betrayed him, while Silver tried using the wrist communicator Tails had adapted for him to pinpoint their location—both in time and space.

"Looks like we're on an island," Silver pointed out. "It's called… Cocoa Island."

Sonic peeked over his shoulder at the readings. "Hey, I'm alive in this time."

"Yeah. You'd be about… Nine?" Silver guessed.

Sonic glanced around at the thick cover of pine trees and breathed in the cool, misty air; this environment very different from what nine-year-old him had ever experienced. "How big's the island?" Sonic asked. "Think it's worth splitting up?"

"We could cover more ground that way," Silver hummed. "I don't know how time sensitive this event is."

"Then I guess there's no time to lose! You take the high road, I'll take the low!" Sonic flashed him a grin and sped off through the forest while Silver headed up towards the mountains.

Running through the rain was never his preference. The low visibility was bad enough when he wasn't keeping an active eye out for anything that looked out of place. Plus the drag of water-logged quills was never pleasant to run with. His sneakers lost traction in the mud and he nearly slid into several of the densely packed trees.

This definitely wasn't an island he'd ever ventured to before. There weren't any open stretches of land to run through freely. Not that he minded the obstacles, but they were a bit cumbersome in this kind of weather.

So distracted by watching the trees and searching, he didn't see the coat on the ground until his feet were tangled up in it. With a yelp, he face-planted into the grass with a groan. He pushed himself up and shook off the drenched fabric before picking it up to examine it.

It was a child's coat. A toddler's coat.

Sonic looked around. There was a toy airplane sitting innocently atop a tree stump. He picked that up, too. 

"Is anyone there?" he called out. "Hello?" He didn't hear anything except the steady drizzle of rain off the branches overhead. "Hey, if you're out there, it's okay. I'm not gonna hurt ya."

Still no answer. Sonic stood up and draped the coat over his arm as he scanned his surroundings, then noticed the nearly washed out tracks in the mud leading deeper into the forest. A child's paw and shoeprints. Sonic followed them, frowning as they shifted the farther he went. They lost their definition until it looked like whoever made the tracks had ended up dragging their body through the mud.

They could've been hurt. Sonic zipped forward until he found a cabin. It was dark, clearly abandoned from the state of the overgrowth taking over the wood, but the front door was swinging open from the wind, letting the rain inside. The muddy trail led right over the threshold.

Sonic stepped inside and shook off his quills, peering into the darkness. The front room was empty. Mud and water stained the old, creaky floorboards, leading him into the next room over. Sonic pushed the door open, finding three empty beds, some storage cabinets, and a pile of blankets on the ground.

A pile of blankets and…

And a baby fox tail.

The toy plane clattered against the hardwood floor and the coat fell with a heavy, wet smack. Sonic dashed over and dropped to his knees next to the bundle as he peeled away the layers of dusty blankets. A baby fox kit trembled as the warmth was taken from him, coughing as the freshly disturbed dust irritated an already raspy throat. Each breath was labored; painful gasps for air that echoed in the abandoned cabin. So soft, but as powerful as gunshots straight to Sonic's heart.

Because the fox kit was clinging to something, and Sonic had hoped he wouldn't be from the moment he first caught sight of his tail. Sonic's jaw clenched. The kit was hugging a second tail.

Tails. How was Tails here? This wasn't West Side Island. What happened?

Another weak cough shook Tails's body. Sonic removed his wet glove and held the back of his hand to Tails's forehead, swearing at how warm he was despite his shivering. Fever. And he was soaked. The blankets were useless as he laid in a damp, muddy nest that would do nothing to warm him up.

Tails nuzzled against his hand. Sonic's gaze was drawn back to his face, eyes still closed as he instinctively sought comfort from his touch. Sonic turned his wrist and stroked the top of his head, brushing aside his wet bangs. A raspy whine rattled in his chest and Sonic's heart broke.

"It's okay, little buddy, I'm right here," he assured him, even if this version of him hadn't met him yet. "You're gonna be okay. Hang on."

Sonic ran into the kitchen and bathroom in search of towels or any sort of linen that wasn't soaked through. He found a couple old hand towels and decided they would have to do. He also found a cup and filled it with water from the sink. 

In the bathroom he looked for anything that might be a first aid kit. There was a medicine cabinet with a thermometer, along with, what was very likely, an expired bottle of ibuprofen tablets. He grabbed both and brought all of it into the bedroom and sat cross-legged on the floor, carefully detangling Tails from his makeshift nest.

He was so light.

Sonic's hands shook as he carefully toweled him off, removing the tiny baby boots from his feet so he could dry them, too. He knew Tails had been light when he'd found him, knew he'd been starving and malnourished, but he hadn't known for how long. This Tails was significantly younger than the four-year-old he'd met on West Side Island, which he had to be if the Sonic of this time was only nine. Barely older than two, if that.

He dried off each of his paws, hating how small they were compared to what he knew and the way his little fingers subconsciously grasped at his own. The Tails he'd met didn't like being touched without warning first, expected every touch to hurt and flinched at sudden movements, but this one in his arms was just as starved for contact as he was for food. He grabbed at and wriggled closer to a complete stranger, whining with frustration as he got tangled in the towel instead. 

Sonic hushed him as he finished drying him off, wrapping him in a fresh towel before quickly drying himself off, too. It wouldn't do any good to get Tails all wet again from his quills dripping onto him. Sonic then shook out the blankets from the pile on the ground, quickly draping the damp ones around the room before using the drier ones to reform a nest. Sonic settled into it and cradled Tails against his chest as he pulled the blankets around them.

He was still shaking so badly, but his face was so hot where it pressed into him. Sonic held him tighter, trying to transfer his own warmth into his sick baby brother, wracked with feverish chills. When Tails got sick, he always vacillated between wanting space and being smothered with comfort. Even at nine, where he claimed to be too mature for such childish things as cuddles, when he was sick enough, he'd eventually shuffle out of his room bundled up in as many blankets as he could find and curl up on the couch with his head in Sonic's lap while his big brother read or played a video game to entertain him.

Sonic never gave it much thought before, but he wondered if that dichotomy to Tails was because he'd had to deal with being sick on his own for so long. It was his first instinct to power through it alone before seeking the comfort he craved. Clearly, for at least the first few years of his life, he was used to the comfort not being there.

Sonic curled around him, insulating him with warmth while the rain pattered against the roof and windows. "You're one tough kid, you know that, bud?" he murmured as the baby whimpered sleepily. "I know, I know… sucks to be sick, but you're handling it like a champ. You always do."

Tails coughed wetly and Sonic patted his back to try and help clear his airways. He glanced at the label for the expired medicine, then grabbed the thermometer. He'd see how high his fever was, then decide whether or not it was worth an attempt to use medicine to bring down his temperature.

"C'mon, bud, open up." 

He tapped the end of the glass thermometer against his muzzle, bleary blue eyes blinking up at him. Sonic faked a yawn, biting back a chuckle when the baby yawned for real. He settled the thermometer under his tongue and held it there. While they waited, Tails just stared up at him. Even as feverish and sleepy as he was, his busy little brain was hard at work trying to figure out who the stranger holding him was while his body shivered, paws kneading into his fur. Just like when they'd been stuck in a blizzard in Holoska, when Sonic's werehog form shielded his hypothermic brother from the cold. 

He might not have recognized him, but he knew he was safe.

"You're doing great, little guy," he told the toddler version of the kid he'd practically raised, smile soft and warm. "Keep it up. We're almost done."

Tails yawned again when Sonic removed the thermometer, squinting at it in the dark to try and read it. At least 104. Tails's normal temperature was somewhere around 100 degrees at rest, so this definitely wasn't a good sign. Sonic swore, rocking Tails a little more quickly as his knees bounced impatiently. It made him cough again, so Sonic gave him the cup of water to help soothe his throat. Tails gulped it down greedily, draining the entire cup in seconds. When he finished, Sonic fought to stay still this time while the baby nuzzled into his chest. 

"Sorry, bud." Sonic scratched behind his ears and he purred from the attention.

Sonic's fingers nearly faltered.

It was so easy…

Normally it took a lot to get Tails to actually purr with contentment. He'd get flustered and embarrassed whenever it happened where Sonic could hear, so it never lasted very long. Sometimes he'd do it to try and cheer Sonic up, but to openly purr because he was unashamedly happy…

Once the baby started, he didn't stop. 

He rubbed his face into Sonic's fur, limp tails wagging in jerky movements, like they didn't know how, one much weaker than the other. It would've been funny in another life. But in this one, Sonic stroked along his back, heart tightening as he felt each nodule of his spine beneath his damp fur. Tails had been too thin when they'd first met; he remembered that well. But if Silver was right… if Sonic was nine in this time and Tails was only two…

It would be two years before they'd meet.

Two years…

"Tried," a tiny voice croaked out.

"Huh?" Sonic blinked down at the snuggly baby. "You tired, big guy?"

"Tried. T'be good 'n wait," Tails mumbled. "I tried…"

Sonic looked out the window at the storm still raging, wind howling through the trees. "Well, you did the right thing, finding a dry place to wait out this rain. Otherwise you might've gotten sicker," Sonic told him. "You did a good job. Such a good job, little bro."

"Good?" Tails tilted his head up, half-lidded eyes trying so hard to focus on him. "M'good?"

"Yeah, you're good," Sonic chuckled softly. "The best."

"An' can I come home now?" Tails asked, voice cracking as it started to rise—just like it always did when he panicked. "Please? I did good, I wanna go home—"

His chest rattled with a harsh coughing fit. Sonic hurried to prop him up in an attempt to clear his airways. He shushed him again as he rubbed his back, his mind speeding through all the context clues he'd been given. The coat and the toy plane left in the woods. The fresh footprints leading to this cabin, which apparently wasn't Tails's home if he was asking to go home…

Because he'd been good.

Because he thought he couldn't go home until he was good.

Every time Sonic told Tails to wait somewhere when they were younger… every time Tails acted like he was never going to come back…

He'd suspected then, of course, but now?

Tails was a baby. A genius baby, but a baby all the same. How could he have possibly gotten it into his head that he'd be left alone somewhere unless he was good if someone hadn't put it there first?

Tails sniffled and coughed again, nuzzling against Sonic's shoulder. "Wanna go home…"

"Soon, bud," Sonic whispered to him, the soft weight of him against his chest the only thing keeping the fury from building in his heart. "You'll be home soon, I promise. And you'll be warm and fed and looked after whenever you're feeling sick… and you'll be loved. You hear me? You'll be loved so much, you won't be able to stand it." Sonic shook his head, thinking back to the little brother he knew, who'd shrug away from his touch with an eye roll or an embarrassed laugh, only to come running back for a hug or words of reassurance when Sonic least expected it. "So hold onto that for me, okay? Hold on 'til I come get you."

Tails's forehead was still burning up as he pressed his own brow to it, squeezing his eyes shut as he pretended like this kid wasn't breaking his heart apart with the magnitude of his rumbly little purrs quaking in his chest.

The little guy fell asleep not long after that, wheezy breaths tickling his fur as Sonic sat with him on the floor of the dusty old cabin. Though it had been a while—and his legs were itching to run as his mind raced and his body insisted that it was trapped—he settled into the old habit of keeping watch over his little brother as easily as breaking in a pair of running shoes. A little painful at first, sure, a little pinchy in the heel or the toes, but soon enough he'd be one with the wind and didn't have to second guess a single step.

As he carefully shifted Tails to a more comfortable sleeping position, Sonic caught a glimpse of his wrist communicator. He fought back a wince. Whoops. Silver.

Trying to keep as quiet as he could, he called his friend. "Any news?" Silver asked, not needing to wonder who was calling him.

"Ah… about that…" Sonic flicked his gaze down at the sleeping fox kit cradled in his arm. "Kinda got distracted."

"Sonic," Silver sighed.

"I know, I know. My bad. But uh… I've got my hands full at the moment. Might be a minute before I can get back to helping you find… whatever it is we came here looking for."

"I don't really know myself. All I know is that it had the potential to affect your present, as well as my future," Silver sighed. "I'll keep looking. There's still a lot of ground to cover in these mountains, and I have this sense…"

"Hm?"

"Just this sense that maybe a Chaos Emerald is here."

Sonic glanced down at Tails again. "You don't say."

"Yeah. Maybe it's the reason we're here. You think we're supposed to retrieve it?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" Silver pressed.

"Just a hunch." Sonic's muzzle couldn't help curving in a fond smile as Tails nuzzled his cheek against his chest, purrs growing louder with a happy sigh. "Just keep me in the loop if anything else stands out to you and I'll catch up with you later. Stay dry."

"You too."

The call cut out and Sonic was left with only the sound of the rain on the roof and Tails's croaky breathing for company. "So that how you made it to West Side? Did the Chaos Emerald lead you there, too, little buddy?" Shaking his head with a sigh, he felt his forehead again while he brushed his bangs out of the way. "Could've tried getting our paths to cross a heck of a lot sooner, but guess I can't be too mad at 'em… no point in dwelling on what coulda been, huh?"

But the words he normally lived by tasted bitter in his mouth. About half as helpful as expired medicine.

"But you've got me now," Sonic assured him. "For however long that might be, you don't gotta worry about a thing. I'll take it from here, Tails."

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[Modern Day AU] Drunk!Lan Wangji: *fast-forwards all the way through the movie* Wei Wuxian: You can't just skip to the happy ending! Drunk!Lan Wangji: I don't have time for their problems.

When Ur Just A Funky Little Skater Punk Hedgehog

when ur just a funky little skater punk hedgehog

(idk if u can tell but only his bangs are straightened, he has braids)

Dog Man and Chief talk about romance 💐

I spent my entire day doing nothing but working on this so I hope y’all like it 🦄🦄🦄

They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
They Both Lost The Kids In The Divorce
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they both lost the kids in the divorce

Shang Qinghua thinking that Mobei Jun is inclined to kill people on the least little bit of suspicion, because every time he says "that guy's totally betraying you, my king" he doesn't even need to follow it up with much evidence or reason before Mobei's nodding and permanently divorcing that guy's head from his shoulders.

Shang Qinghua subsequently being really anxious about the prospect of anyone making accusations against him. Putting it around that maybe it's a good idea for everyone at court to just build up a pretty airtight case first, before bringing anything to Mobei Jun? And even though most of Shang Qinghua's proposals get a lot of blowback and resistance from Mobei Jun's courtiers (often just on the basis of him, the slimy human, making them) this one surprisingly sails through pretty easily? All of the demons at court are basically nodding vigorously like yeah definitely we should all be extra careful about knowing 100% that treachery is afoot before we say anything to Mobei Jun certainly all of us need to watch who we point fingers at.

Shang Qinghua finding it kind of odd later on when one of Mobei Jun's most trusted vassal lords levels an accusation against a far more expendable individual in court, and rather than killing the accused, Mobei Jun just says he'll look into it and then gives Shang Qinghua the meaningful "you'll look into it" glance.

Huh. Maybe his new policies changed Mobei Jun's own opinion on due diligence? Neat! He never realized he could wield that kind of indirect power in his king's court!

Mood

toxic codependent familial dynamics this. toxic codependent romances that. what about toxic codependent coworkers. i can’t do my job without this guy here or i’ll kill myself.

"mobei-jun's Intervention"
"mobei-jun's Intervention"
"mobei-jun's Intervention"
"mobei-jun's Intervention"
"mobei-jun's Intervention"
"mobei-jun's Intervention"
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"mobei-jun's intervention"

There's something so fucking insane about realizing this is it for them. Not only Robotnik has no one, every single version of him has no one. He was created to be hated and alone. He was never meant to be liked by anyone let alone loved.

Stone doesn't exist. I'm getting fucked up just thinking about it – Robotnik finding out about all his other selves and...and there's no Stone? Who even is Stone? And how can movie!Robotnik explain? Who isn't Stone. He's always there, he is loyal, he is equal to a whole world to him, how can he explain that to the other Robotniks if they don't know what it's like? That feeling of being able to look over your shoulder and know someone is always going to be there; that someone cared about him selflessly – someone who patched him back together after every failure even when he thought he couldn't go lower.

Only movie!Robotnik has him, I'm INSANE. There is no comfort in "they will find each other in another universe, and try again" NO. This is it. Dr. Robotnik deserved to have someone be infinitely loyal to him, because he loved him, in one singular universe. IS ANYBODY LISTENING OHMYGOD.

A random idea that I'm not ever sure I'm going to pick up and finish. AU is that everyone lives in a movie genre and the universe if governed by the rules of that genre. Bruce, fed up with being a failed lover interest, starts to adopt kids from other genres.

-----

"I don't get it," Dick says, standing at the top small set of stairs and looking down them. There's like six of them, hardly enough to actually call it a staircase. Dick could probably jump the full way down without hurting himself. It's definitely not a flight, just six steps to get from the raised dias of the bank's entry to the street. But Bruce is still hesitating at the top, staring at them like they are a snake curled up in the grass. 

The man who had assigned himself Dick's father (He doesn't need a father. He doesn't have parents. His parents are dead. Killed. For eight years, their case has gone untouched as cold as their corpses. He needs to solve it. He needs to find the killer. He has to. He has to. He has to...) drags his eyes from the stairs to Dick.

"You live in a *rom com*," Dick practically spat the words. He had been growing to hate this saturated colour, plastic world. There were too many people. None of the streets were ever empty. Movements from the corners of his eyes that his brain screamed could be someone pulling a gun, someone reached for a knife, someone passing a drug off to another, was usually just a woman dressed in LuLulemon pulling her yappy dog along. It was maddening the way that his brain wasn't built for this. He saw people doing things and his mind screamed that it was clues! It was evidence! You need to investigate it! You need. You need. You need.

But he doesn't. Because he doesn't exist here. The Graysons don't exist here. No one has been killed in this city for over 100 years apparently. The worse crime in the paper had been when Miss Betty accidentally stole cupcakes because her and Joe's orders got mixed up. They were getting married now apparently.

Dick shook his head trying to dislodge the part of him that was screaming that he was missing a clue. He tried to focus on the present. Him. Bruce. Stairs.

"This is a romantic comedy," he repeated. "It's all about love, so what's the fucking worse thing that could happen on the stairs."

"*It seems I've fallen for you*," said Bruce suddenly, his voice so devoid of emotion it startles Dick. Dick's eyes snap up to meet the other man's eyes, but Bruce is still looking at the stairs.

"That's the part of the script," he continues, his voice blank. It's disconcerting. Dick has only heard him peppy or bubbly or other words that paint him as a happy-go-lucky dog. He's never heard... this. "I fall down the stairs and I... I break something. I lay there until she's suppose to rush in. She's supposed to be a nurse or a doctor or maybe just someone with first aid training. She's supposed to treat me until the ambulance comes and I'm supposed to say *'it seems I've fallen for you'*"

Bruce finally looks at Dick and he can't even describe what's in the man's eyes. It's... he would almost call it haunted. The same glint that he has when he stares in the mirror.

"I've broken my leg from falling down stairs 48 times. I've broken one of my ankles 53 times. My left arm 18 and my right 26. Three times it's been my collarbone. One time after two flights, it was my back. I was paralyzed from the neck down. I couldn’t move a damn finger, so I just laid there in pain until the clock hit midnight and everything reset. And that’s just the staircase falls. There’s also the open manholes, the broken railings, getting hit by a car, a couple of times where a bridge gave out from under me. Any of them will do as long as I end up hurt and on the ground."

Dick stared. Coldness washed through his veins, fixing him to the spot. For the first time since he got here, fear settled into the pit of his stomach. The only thing he could think to say was: "I thought that nothing went wrong here?"

Bruce gave a harsh laugh that seemed more fitting for Dick's genre. "Everything works out if you actually have someone who wants to love you. If your love interest isn't interested or she just doesn't bother to turn up... well, the universe keeps trying to correct itself even if that means you have to lay in a crumpled, bloody heap at the bottom of stairs for a few hours."

He... he didn't know what to say. Say that he was sorry? That Bruce didn't have anyone coming to love him?

He looked back at the stairs and saw them how Bruce saw them. He tried to figure out what to say, but Bruce just turned on his heel.

"Let's go find the wheelchair ramp."

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