Hello, You Are Very Cool :0

Hello, you are very cool :0

I hope you're having a wonderful day! (/gen)

Thank you! This is so kind I'm gonna cry! (/pos)

I really like your writing and hope you're having a great day as well <3

Hey guys! i’ve been really busy so my ask box is full of prompts for me to write, which is good but also a bit overwhelming so i’m going to close it and work on answering prompts over the next few days if i have time :] i’ll reopen them soon and thanks for understanding :]]

howdy! For the ask prompts can you please write 1 with Giant!Shlatt and Tiny!Quackity? -⭐️

Hi! Sorry that this one is so short! I don't watch Schlatt so all I really know is from like DSMP lore and stuff LOL

So he's not going to be the kindest, so be aware. (As I'm typing this I have NO CLUE what I'm doing or where I'm going LMAO lets goooooo!)

Prompt from here!

Warnings for language, rough handling, threats, fear Word Count ~850

------Yes Sir------

To be completely honest, this was not Alex Quackity's brightest moment. He'd thought that he'd just hide out in this building until the storm outside was over, and he'd be fine.

He was wrong. The ram hybrid found him, and they were currently staring at each other, frozen and unmoving.

Not that Quackity could really go anywhere anyway. He was cornered.

Like, literally, he was on the floor in the corner of the room, his exit effective blocked by the hybrid. There was no way he'd be able to get behind the nearby bookshelf, the giant being would be too fast.

That didn't mean that he didn't try, though.

But the moment he tried to move that way, the hybrid had crossed the room and crouched in front of the tiny duck hybrid, eyeing him with a smirk. The movement combined with that intense gaze made Quackity scramble back, flinching harshly as his back met the wall.

"You're - uh - you're..." The ram hybrid seemed to be processing what he was seeing, and his brain seemed to buffer for a moment before he added a simple obvious, "small."

Nervous, impulsive laughter bubbled out of Quackity. "Yeah, no shit. I almost forgot." His heart was pounding, and his attempt at covering his nerves with.. whatever that just was was a failure. His voice quavered, his body wracked with intense shaking.

If anything, the human only looked more amuse now, his smirk growing even wider and more predatory. Something unsettling settled over Quackity at the gaze, his feathers ruffling up instinctively.

"You just keep getting better and better." The hybrid was speaking, but it sounded oddly like a threat.

And then there was a hand that shot out and wrapped around him before he could even think about moving. He yelped and squirmed, trying to push at the fingers wrapped tightly around him.

He felt sick as he was moved without his will, wind whipping past him. He felt dizzy and he was lifted and carried over to the hybrid's desk. The movement halted, and Quackity looked up at the face above him, which seemed to be considering something.

"Don't move." The voice reverberated oddly through his body, and Quackity honestly wasn't thinking much as he was shifted again.

As soon as his feet hit solid ground, his body was moving, stumbling and trying to bolt away from the threat. He didn't make it far, a shriek escaping him as that tight grip was around him again, yanking him back into the air. And right in front of the massive stubbled face.

"I said," the hybrid tsked, "don't. Move." He opened a drawer, rummaging around for a moment before he paused, looking back to the tiny being in his grip. "And I know you can understand me, which means that you're just being a little shit." His voice was dangerously even, and Quackity pushed as the grip around him with trembling arms, wings flapping uselessly behind him. That predatory gaze locked on his wings, smirk terrifyingly cold. "If you don't behave for me, I might just have to..."

He trailed off, and Quackity's heart thrummed quickly against his rib cage. He threw desperate hits at the thick skin around him, face wet with tears, though he could tell that his struggles meant absolutely nothing. But he fell absolutely still as those disgusting fingers pinched his wings, wide eyes shooting up to cold, dark ones.

The ram hybrid said nothing, just raising a brow, but Quackity got the message loud and clear.

"I-I'll be good. I'm sorry." His voice was thick and it shook, but the grip on his precious wings stayed.

"Mmmmm. I think I'm going to need a bit more from you." Quackity shuddered as those fingers rubbed uncomfortably against his feathers. "I need you to not talk back, try to run, and maybe a few other things down the line. Or," the rubbing stopped, and Quackity gasped as the pressure increased a bit. "you'll have to learn your lesson. Understood?"

"Yes!"

"Yes?" The ram hybrid tilted his head, curves horns glinting as lightning flashed in the distance. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir." And even though it sounded forced (mostly because it was) it seemed to satisfy him enough because the grip on his wings let up, and Quackity slumped a bit with relief.

"Schlatt?" A voice called from beyond the locked door, making both of their eye snap over to it. "We have policies to discuss. The meeting is in a few minutes, remember?"

"I'll be there!" Quackity flinched at the shout that his captor gave in return. The footsteps faded as the person walked away. "And you... Hm," he rummaged through his drawer again before pulling out a jar and struggling for a moment to remove the lid, "in you go then, hm?"

And then Quackity was dumped unceremoniously into the glass prison. His body ached from the rough grip and he winced. Yeah, that's going to leave some bruises alright.

The door clicked closed as his Schlatt left, and Quackity flinched at the loud sound it created. Quackity curled into himself, crying softly and hoping that this wouldn't be his forever.

hey everyone! i’m working on typing prompts on my laptop but i won’t be able to post them quite yet.

i currently have no wifi, so i’m using the data on my phone to type this haha. i write the best on my computer so i’m using a word doc, but yeah.

i should be able to start posting the prompts soon, but i wanted to let y’all know :}

happy Pride month everyone! you’re all incredibly valid and i live you all so much!!! this will be my first Pride fully out so i’m very excited for it :]

I’ve been super busy with work and family stuff, but i should be getting through to some prompts soon! i might combine a couple just to make it a bit easier on me but idk yet

see you soon and

happy Pride!

For the Borrower Sapnap and George Prompt after George gets injured for their chance encounter with Dream. How would Sapnap go ask him for help?

(I love your work it’s so refreshing to find G/T aus for slowly growing fandoms)

Aw, thank you! I’m really glad you like my AUs <3

Fun fact, this was actually the first g/t AU I wrote for this fandom, so it holds a special place in my heart! I came up with the Giant!Dream AU a few days after this one, and I’d thought about g/t AUs for a while, but this was the first one I actually wrote for.

I was gonna have a detailed explanation of how George got caught, but this is a super accurate description honestly lol:

George was curious about Dream’s computer, he fell and hit his head. Dream untangled him from the cords and Sapnap ran in and argued with Dream before stabbing him because he wouldn’t let George go. The borrowers left (Dream caught Sapnap too but let them both go; he just wanted to stop them from leaving because George was hurt, but they both freaked out and now he feels super guilty about it) and now Sap wants to pack up and leave, but George doesn't want to leave their home. Sapnap knows they can't leave while George is hurt, though. At first Sapnap thinks George is kinda off balance and stumbling because he hurt his leg, but he checks it out and learns that George actually hit his head.

(Warnings for concussion and discussion of side effects under the cut. Also, this is a LONG post.)

Sapnap has no clue what to do; it's not like he's had any medical training. He can't even really remember the human word for this type of head injury. George had seemed fine, but now that his adrenaline's fading it's clear that he's kinda struggling. Mostly some confusion, loss of balance, and fatigue. He's almost acting loopy.

It's not an emergency situation, but it's serious enough. And the human knows that they're in his house. That just makes a bad situation worse. Sap makes George go to sleep and hopes he'll feel better in the morning. He is, but not by much. Not enough that Sap would risk moving out of the house. Sapnap realizes that he needs to find a way to help with George's injury.

"We could use his computer, borrow his phone." George giggles, rubbing at his face. "Borrowing. Not stealing. We can 'ctually use that word since we'll give it back, right?"

Sapnap sighs. "Dude, you literally got this injury trying to use his computer. If he caught us messing with his phone? After he's given us a warning, and when you can't run? We'd be screwed."

"Mhmmm," George mumbles, head dropping into his hands. "But. . .dunno, maybe he'd be nice. He said he'd help."

Sapnap gives him the most disbelieving look he can muster.

In the end, though, it's either sit around and do nothing, use the phone without permission, or go to Dream for help. Sapnap eventually decides that the phone is the least risky option, because he has no clue what will happen if they don't figure out how to treat George's wound and he does not trust the human.

The problem is that Sapnap doesn't really know how to use Dream's phone; yes, George knows how to use the internet and even figured out Dream's passcode, but that means George will have to come with him. This makes things even riskier because George is having trouble walking, let alone running or climbing, but they don’t really have any other options.

Sapnap keeps an eye out; later that day, Dream leaves his phone on the table when he goes back to his room. Sapnap gives him a few minutes, just in case he comes back for it, then quickly drags George along with him and helps him climb. They both have minimal gear to keep from being too heavy since Sapnap's basically carrying George up the rope; they've even left most of their weapons behind.

There are some things on the table that can be used to hide behind--a napkin holder, a cup, a few books--but none of them are great for cover and Sapnap's pretty sure that Dream would still be able to see them. He has George unlock the phone and show him how to use the web browser (it's a long process; George struggles to remember the passcode and keeps repeating stuff Sapnap has already done) and then he makes George lean against the napkin holder and rest while he searches.

But then, because their luck is shit, Dream shows up.

---

Warnings for concussion (+ discussion of side effects, including vomiting), self-depreciative talk (George referring to his color-blindness in a negative way), past improper use of medication

Word count: 5,406 words

---

Dream isn’t sure what he was expecting to find when he realized that he’d left his phone on the table, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The little guy--shit, Dream doesn’t know this one’s name, he only knows that the possibly injured one was named George--stares up at him with wide eyes, taking a step away from Dream’s phone like he’s trying to pretend he wasn’t using it. He doesn’t pull out his tiny knife this time, which Dream is thankful for; his knuckles still sting where he’d been slashed with that weapon yesterday. 

“Um. . .what are you doing with my phone?” Dream asks, brows furrowing. It doesn’t make any sense. The tiny guys had been so freaked out yesterday, why would they risk messing with his stuff again? Not that Dream’s going to hurt them for it, of course, but they certainly seemed to think he would. 

I’m not exactly a fan of them messing with my phone and computer, though. They could break something, and I also don’t really want them just. . .reading my personal texts or looking at my photos or whatever they’re doing. It’s CREEPY.

The tiny’s shoulders hunch, but he clenches his fists and refuses to break eye contact with Dream. “. . .nothing.”

Dream frowns, reaching for his phone. The tiny stumbles back, startled, and Dream falters and makes sure to keep his movements slow as he picks up his phone.

“You were searching stuff about. . .head injuries?” Dream asks, squinting at the search history. The tiny stiffens and doesn’t seem to know how to answer the question. “Why- wait, did your friend hit his head, is that what happened?”

He was stumbling, I thought he must’ve hurt his leg or something. But maybe he did-

The tiny suddenly takes another step back, glancing to the side for a second before returning his focus to Dream. Dream follows the tiny’s gaze and realizes that he was looking over at the napkin holder, seeming almost frantic. 

Could it be. . .

Dream rests his hand on top of the napkin holder, carefully sliding it to the side. The tiny spits out a curse, moving forward like he’s planning on lunging for Dream’s hand, but they both freeze when a small shape stumbles into view.

Yep, that’s George.

Dream stares down at the tiny, feeling like his mind is spinning in circles because George looks awful. Yesterday, George had seemed a bit weak, but Dream had just assumed it was because he was all shaken up from the accidental scare. Now, though, it’s obvious he isn’t doing too great. 

George sways slightly, blinking up at Dream, face pale and somehow managing to look smaller than he did before. He doesn’t try to move away from Dream, doesn’t jump back in surprise or freeze like the other tiny did.

There’s no fear in his gaze. Dream knows that’s a bad thing, because the tiny was terrified yesterday; he must be really out of it.

Fuck, did he hit his head that badly when he fell? Or. . .or did I somehow do something to make it worse?

The other tiny suddenly moves closer, standing between George and Dream, staring up at him like he’s daring Dream to do something. 

Dream can see that the tiny’s hands are trembling; he makes sure to keep his own hands still, not wanting to stress them out any further.

“Were you trying to figure out how to help your friend?” Dream eventually asks, doing his best to keep his voice quiet, but the tiny still flinches. “I could help you.”

I don’t know much about concussions, but. . .I know you’re supposed to REST. George clearly isn’t doing that; why would his friend drag him around the house with an injury like this?

The tiny almost seems to puff up, planting his feet more firmly on the table. George slowly reaches for him, wrapping his fingers around his friend’s wrist as he blinks up at Dream, still looking eerily calm about the whole situation.

“No,” the tiny blurts out, rotating his arm so he can gently hold George’s hand, their fingers lacing together. “We can’t- what would you want in exchange for that? We don’t have anything to give you. We already promised to leave.”

Dream falters, closing his mouth. Oh, they’re expecting me to ask for something in return. . .would they be MORE suspicious if I said I didn’t want anything? That this is just a genuine offer of help?

“I just wanna help,” Dream says, lowering his hands. “I- it was my fault he got hurt; well, I guess technically it wasn’t, but I certainly didn’t make things any better. Let me do this as- as an apology to you guys, I guess.”

The tiny frowns at him, not looking at all reassured by his words. “Bullshit. You just want to have an-”

“We could. . .” George’s words are quiet, but his tiny friend immediately falls silent, turning to look at George. It takes George a minute to piece together the words, frowning down at the table as he thinks.

"We could give him his stuff back," George mutters, making a gesture like he's wrapping something around his arm. His tiny friend looks confused for a second before his eyes suddenly widen and he hisses for George to shut up; George either doesn’t hear the words or doesn’t understand them, because he continues. "The rope, the. . .the cord thing. The headbuds, 's that the word?"

"My earbuds?" Dream asks, remembering the cheap set for his phone that had disappeared a few weeks ago. George gives Dream a weak grin; his tiny friend, on the other hand, is watching Dream with fearful eyes, clearly worried that Dream’ll be upset that they took his shitty headphones. "Sure, you could give those back, that sounds fair."

The tiny instantly seems to relax, letting out a quiet huff of air. “Oh. Okay. So. . .we’ll go get those for you, trade that to you? And you’ll fix George?”

“I’ll do everything I can to help,” Dream says, glancing over at George again. “Head injuries. . .they’re hard to fix, I don’t know how much I can do. But I’ll tell you everything I know about them, and I’ll give you anything that could help.”

The tiny nods, adjusting his hold on George, getting George’s arm over his shoulder and helping him take a step back. “Alright. We'll go get those, and then we'll come back and-"

"Wait, wait, hold on. You're taking George with you?" Dream asks, squinting at the two of them. "He can barely stand, there's no way he'll make it there and back without hurting himself. He should be resting, not climbing all over the place."

Actually, they don’t even have to leave right now. I don't need the earbuds; he could always go and get them later. Dream opens his mouth to add that but the tiny stiffens, scowling up at him before interrupting.

"You're saying he can't come with me?" He hisses, hands clenching into fists.

"I'm saying that if he goes with you, he's gonna get himself hurt. People with concussions need to rest," Dream stresses. "He could stay here with me while you get the earbuds? Or I could carry him closer to where you guys live so he doesn't have to walk too far, I guess, but I don't know where that is. Plus, that seems kinda pointless because I’d just have to bring him back here a few minutes later to treat his injury."

The tiny stares up at Dream; Dream wonders what he’s thinking, because it looks like his mind’s racing.

What’s worrying him? What can I do to reassure him, to help prove that I don’t mean any harm?

Eventually, the tiny slowly shakes his head. “I- you can’t- no. You can’t carry him.”

"Actually, he could c'rry me," George chirps, staring up at Dream. 

"No." His tiny friend lets out a sound that’s practically a growl, tightening his grip on George’s hand and shaking his head again. "No, because you'd still have to walk through the walls. I think. . .maybe at the end, when you're all done and ready to go to bed, he can carry us. Maybe. But for this first trip? He doesn't need to touch us."

“Well, I guess he’s staying here with me, then?” Dream asks. “I could. . .I’ll figure out his symptoms, use this time to learn how to help him feel better. That way we’ll already know what to do by the time you get back. Okay?”

The tiny shudders, glancing between George and Dream for a moment, but eventually he takes a step back.

"Oka- yeah, I guess so. I'll get the earbuds." The tiny moves over to the edge of the table, and Dream realizes that there’s a small rope there, leading all the way to the ground. "I'll be back soon. Dream, you so much as look at him wrong and I'll put your headphones somewhere you'll never find them. And don’t you fucking touch him, either.”

The tiny says these words with false bravery; he makes eye contact with Dream as he speaks, scowling the whole time, but Dream can see how his fingers are trembling. 

Dream chooses not to say anything about the desperate threat; he just nods. The tiny gives George one last nervous look, then turns around and slides down the rope, moving so quickly that Dream’s worried he might slip and fall.

He doesn’t. He runs across the floor, glancing back at Dream once before disappearing behind the fridge.

Dream, meanwhile, is stunned into stillness for a minute. He’s. . .not really sure what to do, now that the uninjured tiny’s gone. If he’s being honest, he feels a bit nervous about being alone with George. 

He blinks down at George, and George blinks back. The tiny’s goggles are pushed up onto his forehead, which makes it easy for Dream to see how much he's squinting. 

"Okay." Dream lets out a breath and picks his phone back up. Just. . .act like this is a friend with a concussion, I guess. Ignore the fact that he’s tiny enough that you could kill him by accident. "Okay. Why don't I, um, list some symptoms? And you let me know which ones you have so we know how serious this is?"

George nods, taking a few wobbly steps in Dream's direction; Dream practically holds his breath the entire time, glad his hands are out of reach. It's like watching a baby bird try to walk; he looks so fragile right now, and Dream’s honestly too scared to even think about touching him.

"Can I. . .see you use it?” The tiny eventually asks, words slightly slurred; his voice is weak enough that Dream has to lean a bit closer to hear him better. “The- the phone? I wanna see it."

"Um." Dream wants nothing more than to say yes--he can see how George's eyes are practically shining with excitement, even though they're unfocused--but he forces himself to shake his head. "No, it'll hurt your eyes. Make you feel worse."

George reaches up and tugs at his goggles, trying to cover his eyes with them but struggling too much to get a good grip on them, so he gives up. They're made out of tinted glass, almost like sunglasses. "These'll, they. . .they protect my eyes. Make them work right, y'know? B'cause I don't see right. I can look at the phone."

He doesn't see right? Maybe he has poor eyesight and uses them like glasses? Dream pushes down his questions, deciding to wait to ask them; it doesn't seem like George has any kind of filter right now, and he doesn't want to learn something that he's not supposed to. "Sorry, you can't. You need to rest."

George frowns, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at his feet. The second Dream starts scrolling through the website, though, he perks back up and starts inching closer again.

"George." Dream considers moving to the couch so he can do this, but he really doesn't want to risk leaving the injured tiny alone. What if he tries to follow and falls off the table or something? "You can't."

"You're so mean," George grumbles; Dream stares at him, too startled to say anything. He thinks he might laugh, actually. "You didn't let me use your c'mputer, and now I can't use th' phone. You're a dick."

Dream sputters, forcing down his laughter as George looks up at him with an unamused expression. "I'm sorry. Maybe next time, okay?"

“Next time?" George tilts his head to the side, then nods, sitting down so quickly that Dream thought he fell over at first. Maybe he did. "When will next time be?"

"I don't know, tomorrow? It's up to your friend, probably." Dream says, saving a few screenshots with tips onto his phone so he can come back to them easily.

George's brows furrow, the movement so small that Dream can hardly pick up on it. "What friend?"

Dream blinks. Oh fuck. Oh god, did he lose his memory? "The. . .the guy who brought you here? Uh, with the white thing tied around his head?"

"Oh, Sapnap." George nods, looking proud of himself. "No, 's not my friend. He's also a dick. He said we have'ta leave."

Dream opens his mouth to ask but quickly stops himself. I really hope that's not true. Did I spook them that badly? Will this be enough to convince them that I'm fine with them sticking around? Instead, he just says, "Wow. Sounds like you meet a lot of mean people."

"You aren't mean!" George blurts out.

Dream chuckles, because George sounded so offended. "Dude, you literally called me mean, like, less than a minute ago."

"Yeah, but 's not true. You're scary and tall and you have. . .have, like, hands. You covered Sapnap with your hands. But you aren't mean." George says. "You didn't squish him. You aren't mean."

Dream goes still, staring down at George. He has no idea what to say to all of that. It kinda hurts, hearing that they find him scary. That George still thinks he's scary even when loopy like this. But George is saying he isn't mean, so it's probably meant to be a compliment. "Thanks?"

"Welcome." George gives a sharp little nod, then winces. "You said you would read."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I." Dream mutters, scrolling through the symptoms. Most of them he can spot himself, but. . . "Did you guys happen to check your eyes, see if your pupils dilated?"

George frowns. "My eyes are right here."

"Yep, they are. Did you guys shine a light in them?" George stares at him blankly; Dream takes that as a no. I could try to do it, but I don't think I'd be able to see. And my flashlight might be enough to really hurt his eyes. I'll wait for the other guy--Sapnap?--to get back. "Have you been sick?"

"I'm not sick, I have a fuckin' consclussion." George pouts up at Dream; Dream does his best not to react to the mispronunciation of the word. "If I was sick I would be sleeping."

"Sorry, I guess sick wasn't the right word to use here. Did you throw up at all? Did you fall unconscious?" Dream asks. It takes George a second to process the questions, but he eventually shakes his head. Dream decides to ask 'Sapnap' the same questions, just to make sure.

"Okay. How did you sleep last- did you sleep last night? Like, through the night? Did he wake you up at all?" Dream frowns, making a mental note to remind them to do that.

George nods his head. "He snores. But I slept a lot. He made me wake up one time to drink some water and talk."

"Okay, that's good. He should check on you tonight too, okay? I'll remind him, don't worry about remembering that." Dream looks at the other symptoms; George seems to have headaches, balance issues, vision issues, fatigue and maybe some memory issues. Absolutely a concussion. I'm not a doctor, but that seems pretty obvious. "Do you want some water?"

"I remember everything." George mumbles, tapping his fingers on the table. "Everything, everything. I can tell him."

"Do you want some water?" Dream repeats, a bit more firmly this time. George twitches and looks up at him.

"You don't have our cups, though. And Sapnap won't tell you where the house is. I could tell you where the house is." George blurts out, rising to his feet. He's unsteady, but standing without needing help.

"No, don't worry about that. I guess I could bring you over to the sink? Or-" Dream looks at the cabinet where he stores most of his dishes, trying to remember what he has. "I could get a bowl or something? I don't think I have one small enough for you, sorry, but you could use your hands?"

"Hands." George repeats, then nods.

"Sure." Dream moves to go grab a bowl, but suddenly George is walking over to him and he feels like his whole body locks up. "Um, what?"

George reaches forward, brushing his fingers across the back of Dream's hand, carefully avoiding the shallow cut Sapnap had left on Dream’s knuckles the day before. "I don't really like hands."

"Okay?" Dream whispers, trying to keep from twitching at the feather-light touches. It's hard, but he’s determined to keep his hand still. "That's fine?"

"But I don't not like them either." George adds, saying it like he's stating the obvious. "What's with yours?"

"What's. . .with my hands?" Dream asks, trying to piece together what George is saying. "I mean, they're hands? What else is there?"

"You're very still. You aren't normally still. When I watch you, you always move and talk. Are you sick too?" George asks, looking up at Dream with wide, worried eyes.

"I'm not sick," Dream hurries to reassure George, before mentally doing a double-take. When he WATCHES me? "When you watch me? Like, uh, like you were doing yesterday by my computer?"

"Yesterday was stupid, Sapnap was stupid. Self-sacrificing, gonna get h'mself squished. I didn't even have my bow." George frowns, looking put out for a second before brightening again. "I liked watching you more before."

"Before," Dream repeats, doing his best to keep his voice level. He's been fine with the fact that these guys have been hanging around for a bit, but the main thing that bugs him is the lack of privacy, because they just keep going through his personal stuff like his phone. And now apparently they just. . .watch him, too? What the hell?

"Yeah!" George chirps, patting Dream’s hand. "Weeks and weeks. Your voice is always loud, I can hear you and know when to look."

Weeks? Sapnap had said they hadn't been here long, he said they were just passing through. Was he lying, then? If so, what else were they lying about?

Dream squints at George; he doesn't seem to be capable of lying right now, not with the concussion affecting him like this, which means that Sapnap must have been lying. 

I mean, it's not like they could be doing anything sinister, right? What's the worst they can do with whatever they see? It’s not like they can tell anybody. Who knows, maybe they don't even know any better. Still, I REALLY don't like that, though.

"Why do you watch me?" Dream decides to ask, figuring he might as well try and get the truth from someone.

George blinks at him, looking horribly confused. "Because you're a human?"

Dream's hand twitches as he fights the urge to drum his fingers on the table; George doesn't seem to notice. "But why? Is it just so you can, like, figure out my schedule? Learn how to avoid me or something?"

"That why Sapnap does," George says, speaking slowly, like he's trying to explain something to a child. "Sometimes me too, but I like the typing thing you do, so I watch that just because I want too even though it makes Sapnap grumpy."

"The typing thing." Dream says. He literally just sits in my room and watches me use my computer? How did I not notice him before? "Do you mean coding?"

"I think so?" George chews on his lip as he thinks. "It's a lot 'f words that aren't really words but you talk when you do it, so I understand more."

"Do you do this a lot?" Dream asks.

George shrugs. "Maybe? Dunno. Wanna build things like your c'mputer, that's why I took your headbuds. Sorry."

"It's okay, I don't really care about the earbuds," Dream reassures him, letting some of the tension bleed out of his body. They aren't purposefully trying to invade your privacy. Calm down. It's okay. TALK to them first and explain why this is a problem, instead of jumping to conclusions and getting upset.

It's hard to stay mad at George, who is currently staring up at him with wide eyes. The tiny guy lets out a little sniffle and wipes at his face with his sleeve.

Oh fuck, oh no, what did I do?

"Hey, hold on, it's okay," Dream murmurs, wishing he could try and hold the tiny in a gentle hug to comfort him. He feels a warm tear drip onto his hand. Shit. "What's wrong?"

"I broke them," George whimpers, shoulders hunching. He still has a hand on top of Dream's hand; Dream can just barely feel his fingers flex when he clenches his fist. "I wanted to see how they worked so I took them apart and used some wires, but now you want them back and you'll be mad-"

"Easy there, calm down." Dream lifts his free hand up, very gently brushing a finger against George's arm. He doesn't lean into the touch, but he doesn't pull away, either. "I promise I'm not mad."

"But you wanna trade me for them and they're broken," George insists. "It's not a fair trade if one thing's broken."

"Wh- it's not a trade," Dream promises, pulling his finger away since it doesn't seem to be helping. "I'm not gonna keep you, don't worry."

"You aren't?" George whines, somehow looking even more panicked. "Then what- where- are you getting rid-"

Shit. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm saying you can go back to Sapnap, okay? It's fine that the headphones were broken. Sapnap wasn't trading them for you, he was trading them for information. Okay?"

"I'm broken." George mumbles, looking like he made the greatest discovery as he grins up at Dream. "I'm broken! It's a fair trade!"

What the FUCK.

"You aren't broken. What, why- because you're hurt? Is that what you mean?" Dream asks, eyes wide as he stares down at George. "You think you're broken because you're injured?"

"Mhmm. And my eyes are bad." George taps at his goggles before wincing. "Ouch. Yeah, they're bad. I can't see as much danger. It's why I'm with Sapnap."

Not my business, not my business. Dream sighs. "Trust me, you aren't broken, and we're gonna trade back with Sapnap and everything's gonna be just fine. Alright?"

"Okay." George finally moves his hand away from Dream’s and takes a step back, glancing around. "You said Sapnap? Is he back yet?"

Dream looks at the floor, but he doesn't see any sign of the other tiny. It's been like ten minutes, how long is the trip? "Not yet, but he'll be here soon."

George sits back down, burying his face in his hands. "My head hurts."

"I'm sorry." Dream moves his hand, planning to use it to shield George from the kitchen lights, but the tiny flinches at the movement and Dream lowers his hand again.

"Oh, wait, I said I'd get you water, didn't I? Sorry." Dream slides his phone into his pocket; George, as tired as he is, still lifts his head to watch the movement. "You still want it?"

"Don't really want anything," George grumbles, rubbing at his eyes.

"Well, I can get you some easily. And-" Dream pauses, words cutting off when he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns and sees Sapnap, making his way across the floor, half-carrying and half-dragging the earbuds behind himself. He freezes when he notices Dream watching.

Dream takes a step back to give him some space, and Sapnap gives Dream a nod before standing on his tiptoes, clearly trying to see onto the table.

"Sapnap's here," Dream murmurs; George sits upright, looking like he's about to sprint for the edge, but he wobbles and fall back down.

"Sapnap!" George yelps, sounding rather cheery. Dream can see how Sapnap instantly relaxes once he hears his friend’s voice. "Is my bow still lost?"

“Sorry, Gogy, didn't have time to grab it." Sapnap drops the tangled bundle of earbud cords onto the ground, shooting a nervous glance up at Dream. He seems. . .really antsy, actually. Even more antsy than when he'd left George behind in the first place.

He's carrying more stuff on his back than he was earlier, too. Dream squints at him but can't quite tell what new stuff he has; it's mostly hidden away in some kind of makeshift rucksack.

"There you go." Sapnap kicks at the earbuds, then takes a couple of steps to the side so he can grab the rope leading up to the table. He seems torn between climbing up it and waiting for something. Dream isn't quite sure what.

Dream sinks into a crouch and picks up the earbuds. George. . .was underselling the damage, honestly. Much of the rubber sheath has been cut away to allow access to the insides, and Dream can see where George has pulled out wires and cut them. No way in hell these things still work.

He runs his thumb over the biggest section of damage, then looks over at Sapnap. The tiny goes completely, utterly still, hands gripping the rope so tightly that his knuckles start to pale.

He must be worried about making an unfair trade, too.

Does. . .does he think I’m going to be MAD that they’re broken?

"Did you get any use out of these?" Dream asks, in an effort to ease the tension. "George mentioned that he'd taken them apart already; were you guys able to make anything out of them?"

Sapnap slowly shakes his head, moving his leg around until the rope's partly wrapped around it. His voice is quiet when he eventually speaks. "No, he was just learning."

"Like with my computer?" Dream asks; Sapnap stiffens again. "He-"

"No!" Sapnap blurts out, gaze flicking up like he's checking to see if George is watching. "No, he wouldn't break your computer like that. He was just looking. He knows better than to mess with stuff you still use."

"Okay." Dream debates offering Sapnap a hand but decides against it. He stands up, but he must do it too suddenly, because Sapnap lets out a quiet, startled noise. "I'm gonna put these in my room."

Dream retreats, giving the two of them a minute together and hopefully letting Sapnap climb without being scared that Dream will grab him.

When he returns, Sapnap is kneeling in front of a sitting George with his face buried in his friend’s hair. Dream is pretty sure that he's whispering something. When he notices Dream, he springs to his feet and crosses his arms.

"So how do we fix him?" Sapnap asks, once Dream is back at the table. "How do I help him stop hurting?"

"There's not really much we can do," Dream admits. Sapnap scowls at him, somehow managing to be intimidating. "There's medicine to help with the pain, but. . .I don't know if that would work with you guys."

Sapnap opens his mouth, but George pipes up first. "Medicine? That's fun. But very very hard, we have to count a lot. Sapnap got really sick once."

Dream frowns. "I. . .really don't think we should do that. It could be dangerous."

"Fair." Sapnap nods his head, glancing over to George. "But that's just pain medicine? What about not-sick medicine? So that he can walk and think right?"

"There isn't a special type of medicine for a concussion; well, maybe, but if there is, I don't have it. Honestly, the best thing for him to do is rest," Dream explains.

Sapnap takes a step forward, jabbing a finger in Dream's direction. "That's what he's been doing! But he wakes up with horrible noises and he keeps forgetting that he even woke up in the first place! Resting isn’t helping, and he’s getting worse."

"But he hasn't been resting, you literally dragged him across the house to use my phone," Dream points out, tapping a finger against the table.

"Don't you fucking tell me what to do," Sapnap growls, shifting his weight side to side like he wants to pace. "He was resting all day before that. And we needed to figure out how to help him; I don't know how to use your stupid phone."

"I offered my help, you could've come to me," Dream shoots back. "That's what you're doing now, isn't it? Next time just do that from the start."

"Next time?" Sapnap shouts, taking a step forward. "What do you-"

"I just meant that next time something happens, you guys can come to me, okay?"

George sighs, tucking his face into his elbow. "How many next times do we have left?"

Dream blinks at him, struggling to parse that vaguely ominous sentence. Sapnap barks out a laugh. "Shut up, George."

"Hey," George whines, grabbing onto Sapnap's arm. "I didn't do it."

Sapnap whirls around to snap at George and Dream leans forward. "Hey, quit it, Sapnap. He's hurt-"

"Yeah, he is!" Sapnap rounds on Dream, moving closer until he's less than a foot away. "And you know whose fucking fault that is? Yours. Your offers of help don't mean shit when you're just trying to ease your guilty feelings! You could've let us go a lot earlier, but no, you were curious."

Dream gapes at him. "I-"

"You didn't have to catch me, did you?” Sapnap practically spits the words. “Tell yourself it was because you were making sure we weren't hurt all you want, but you could've just let us go, you-"

George shoves at Sapnap's shoulder, too weak to knock him off balance. "Stop! Sapnap, this isn't helping anything!"

"You're soft for humans, George." Sapnap growls, not looking him in the eyes. "But there's a time and a place for that, and this is not one of them."

Dream scowls, forcing himself not to clench his fists. "And now is not the time for this, either. We need to focus on George."

"His own fuckin' mess," Sapnap snarls, but he backs off, brushing a hand against George's arm briefly before he starts to pace along the edge of the table.

Dream lets out a frustrated huff of air, doing his best to calm himself before turning his attention back to George. The tiny blinks at him, eyes still foggy, but he looks a bit nervous now.

“Okay.” Dream makes sure to keep his voice calm, even. “Why don’t we just. . .go through this list of treatments, then figure things out from there.”

He reopens the tabs on his phone, studying the list of possible treatments. Some of them seem straightforward, but a lot of them (especially the medicine) seem too risky to try with the tinies. 

“Sapnap, I’m gonna go through this,” Dream explains. Sapnap scowls but stops pacing, finally paying attention to him. “I need you to tell me which of these you can do on your own, and which ones you’ll need my help with.”

At the end of the day, there’s not much I can do for a concussion, but. . .I’m sure I could help in other ways.

Do they have enough food? Do they have a safe place to sleep? I could certainly help with all of those.

The tricky part is convincing Sapnap to LET me help, though. . .hopefully as he spends more time with me, he’ll start to understand that I genuinely just want to help them.

---

I’m gonna end this here, because otherwise I’ll never stop writing and I already took WAY too long to answer this ask lol

This is now officially the longest g/t scene I’ve EVER posted, for any fandom, officially beating my old DBH g/t fic (individual parts of it, at least, but not the entire series.) I’m very happy with this, and it is special to me because this is one of my oldest mcyt g/t aus. 

Thank you for your patience! I’m gonna work on the next asks now, which are about MerGeorge noms and the infamous “George incident” from my Giant Dream au :) Those will also be longer pieces of writing, but hopefully I can work on those a bit more quickly than I did with this one.