#and it’s only gonna get worse as the winter goes on

[pandamugger]

i love heated blanket,,,,,

[kariachi]

Ben moves to South Dakota, Kevin and Julie just sit back and wait for the inevitable "dear fucking god it's cold and snowy up here".

They are not disappointed.

They never actually say they told him so, but he does get regular "How's the weather out there" messages.

Kevin gets him a snowblower for his birthday. Doesn't build one because damnit he warned him the weather was gonna be shit, but is a loving friend and buys him one.

[toytulini]

"thing that can not be found when you think from a cars perspective" nah cos you can actually see through the windshield right after a fresh snow and its often quite pretty right after it snows, and the car keeps the cold out, snow driving is literally fine once you get decent snow tires, the worst part is Other Dumbass Drivers Behaving Dangerously, which is like. a bog standard downside of driving or existing near roads.

no, my hate of snow stems well before I ever started driving, my hate of snow stems from having to clear it off of shit. all around bad time. hate it. want nothing to do with that ever again. dont like learing off the car either, but its not nearly as bad as shoveling out our front steps as a child

[icarusredwings]

What is the puppy Logan lore?🥺🙏

IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED totally unprompted.

Tw: impure regression, past abuse, slight mention of pet play, death, non ethical, and ethical cannibalism(?)

Special thanks to: @stucky-just-stucky and others

This is ALL consentual, btw. Cause consent is cool and sexy kids.

SO ANYWAY.

Puppy Logan, right?

We all know that Logan is dog coded, gaurd dog, yes, but also puppy. Except he swaps between wolf, puppy, and kitten. He was raised with wolves in most comics, so it makes a ton of sense for him to have more wolf like behaviors than say - idk. A golden? He's not a golden. And he's not for first-time owners. He needs an experienced, patiant, and preferably regenerative owner.

So his head would be lowered a lot, he would correct Puppins like the "alpha" of their little pack, he'd howl and expect Wade or Mary to awnser, he's going to make a den, he's gonna try to hide his bones under the carpet, he's going to be tense and slow, big and kind of clumsy, big pawed fucker loves the snow but the metal in his bones makes him too cold to pull a husky. Aka, sleep in a loaf out in a blizzard. He'd love to do that again, but his metal won't let him. If it was just bone, Wade would never be able to get him to come home from the woods during winter.

This goes back to the puppins thing, but wolves are PACK animals. He NEEDS his pack and HATES being alone. He likes to try to play with other people if theyre chill and even other dogs who are considered "too rough" with other dogs, though sometimes Wade gets scared his claws will come out if his prey drive activates. For the most part, even regressed Logan is extremely gentle with small things (except rabbits. R.I.P. all rabbits logan sees when regressed. They're GONE, sweetheart. Rabbit heaven.) And while this does inclue laura and gabby, bassically any of his X-Kits, only a few can handle his rough play style. This is why it's important for his owner to be able to regenerate, or you can't play with him to his full needs.

He has two collars. The first one is a simple, literal blue dog collar. But the red one is more kinky and says bad dog on its tag, but the other one just says "Logan"

Well, the thing im cooking is that sometimes the blue one is involved with Logans impure regression, Logan being kind of skittish and territorial.

Ie. Growling at Puppins and trying to steal her food, stealing her bed, not letting puppins to sit on Wades lap, etc

Sometimes, in the blue one, he's more "Play with me" puppy. Sometimes hes "Ill bite your fucking hand off" puppy.

Because of this, He's still learning his recall in his blue collar, so he's sometimes not allowed off leash in the woods without a tracker, but He is in his red one cause hes more big that way.

But it's Logans choice what color he wears on what day. It's NOT just a collar.

It's unwritten consent bassically AND how he needs handled. If logan is conscious and acting like a bad dog on purpose, Wade can "punish" him. If Blue Collar logan is being "bad," he doesn't mean it, and he needs to be gentle with him.

Depends on what he's doing for how Wade handles it. Sometimes, he has to break out the ... AHEM ... BB words.... (bad boy) COUGH

But in all honesty? Wade raises him like a normal puppy plus a lot more words, explanations, etc.

"Oh, No baby, you can't eat puppins food- er Logan sweetheart thats dog-"

"Grrrr"

"Okay, Okay I understand. I know Grrr but thats literal dog food are you sure you wanna-"

"...bleh"

"Yeah, thought so- Why are you eating it again!? Logan! No! Comere big boy. Comere. That's a good puppy. Here you want this?" *Gets the ham out of the fridge and wiggles it so his husband stops eating dog food*

Its not even the fact that he wants to eat dog food its just the fact hes stubborn and has eaten worse... Hence why theres bowls in the kitchen on the floor that say "Logan" on them and sometimes get filled with meat or cereal, cause if not he'll just subconsciously get in the trash or eat puppins food and then get a tummy ache for obvious reasons.

Logan flucuates between kitten and puppy all the time since wolverines are bassically cat dogs. So if hes just sitting there, Wade will go for the head or his cheeks, if hes up laying on his lap, he'll pet down his back and give him a scratch on the chin.

He's practically nonverbal too.

Can he talk? Yes. Does he often? Nope.

Body language is Wade's best friend when he's this way. It's quite obvious, though, with how vocal he is, between the snarls, the chittering, purrs, growls, hissing, groans, and grunts.

Play time (Pure regression) Logan is much more wiggly and obedient, will play fetch and do tricks for treats, and simply wants loved and praised.

Rescue (impure regression) Logan is skittish, snappy, and honestly just wants left alone with his things.

Play time Logan is playing tug with puppins and putting his ball in Al's hand while asleep and nudging her to throw it.

Rescue Logan is laying at Wades feet chewing a bone and snapping at his hand if he tries to touch him when he has food or puppins come near them.

Red collar logan by now is humping Wade's leg and has gotten into the fridge to eat half the chicken.

Play time logan barks and howls, btw. It terrifies the neighbors.

Petre and agere isn't all fun and cuddles. Sometimes, it invovles being alone and trying to sort out your memories/ do therapy.

Just like ive explained, 'rescue' Logan lounges around thinking about stuff and because of all the bad thoughts and most likely bad dreams or ideas revolving his abuse and stryker, he just chills out, naps, lays his head on wades lap, chews his ball, not much. Imagine an older abused dog. This is Logan's impure regression.

#inhisfeels

Meanwhile, he's a happy, energetic 6 month old puppy during pure 'play time' regression.

Blue collar Logan doesn't do on leash walks. He's terrified of them both rescue and play time Logan. Play time logan will yelp and whimper as if you're hurting him and immediately lay flat on the ground and rescue logan will bite you before you can even clip it on.

Red collar Logan will let you leash him though. For.. reasons..

It's from his younger days when he wasn't given food, had to steal food, etc. You have to remember that Logan ran away from home pretty young and was used to being able to hunt food whenever he wanted until the military and yk he lived in al the wars as well as the great depression so food is a must. He has to scarf it down before someone else takes it.

Rescue Logan is also extremely food agressive but play time Logan is still being trained that its okay if Wade is next to him when he eats and if he pets him while he eats logans hips wiggle a bit. He's learning stuff like "wait" and "easy" and "roll over" etc.

Literally pure regression Logan:

I HC that he was "punished" by starving him in the army but because he's "the runt" victor gave him some of his food too but in return victor would lecture him about how humans always will treat him badly.

He also lived with wolves, and in the pack, the dad wolf always ate first, then the mom, then the strongest kid. Well, since Logan was one of their pups, he would fight for his place in the pack, therefore fighting literal wolves to eat when new pups were born and said pups grew and tried to show their dominance by taking his food but Logan wouldn't let them (obviously).

Wade will ultimatly "fix" this issue by feeding Logan in the kitchen with his own bowl and teaching Mary never to go near his bowls.

Eventually, Logan will learn that Wades presence is good because he's being the "Pack leader" by defending his food FOR him. Aka less aggression, and I personally always ADD food to the shelter dog' food bowls if for any reason I have to be near them when eating. (I've worked shelter for a decade)

So eventually, rescue Logan will learn that Wade= more food, not take away.

Play time logan has already learned this and will wiggle if wade pets his head when he's eating but WILL still bite if he catches wade taking food AWAY from him. Meanwhile rescue Logan will immediately start growling if you're too close.

He didn't show Wade his puppy side until after they were dating a while. There were always signs, but Logan didn't fully tell him or let himself slip until he trusted him not to make fun of him. His little puppy self is still learning that Wade can be trusted around food - Mary, not so much.

Mary is really bad about taking food that isn't hers cause Wade keeps feeding her human scraps off his plate, so she thinks she can do that to Logan too, which AT WORST ends up with logan shoving her over and standing over her while snarling in her face or putting a "paw" on her to "correct" her puppy misdeeds.

Wade gets scared when this happens, but in reality, correction without a nip is VERY good for food agressive pups.

Althea only found out recently.

She would probably go to "pet the new dog" and be like, "What the!? Wade what the fuck! This is logan! Ugh you better not be naked! I don't wanna be apart of what ever nastiness you have going on!!" Lmao. Unironically this was Play time Logan so he's just sitting here with his head cocked, ball in his mouth like "why the fuck isn't this lady throwing my ball??"

Also- Vanessa doesn't know. Laura doesn't know. Gabby knows on accident, but thankfully, she thought he was just being silly and pretending, Morph knows, Kurt doesn't know, but he's aware of how animalistic Logan is. Jean knows slightly, Scott doesn't know, Storm doesn't know, Beast doesn't know.

Charles knew...

He's the one that told Logan "what was wrong with him," though. Cause Logan thought it was wrong, and he was a freak for sometimes snapping at his students/ teammates and wanting to crawl around and chew on Jean's shoes and steal Ororo's sweater to lay with.

It's why some nights Logan ended up curled up at the end of Charles' bed and would start barking out the window when Erik tried to come in. The idea of Erik setting him outside the door and locking it only for Logan to sit there, blink, and process what just happened is so funny. This is clearly exaggerated but its a silly thought.

Logan would never trust the person who told the other x men ever again, and since Charles is dead, that only leaves Jean, Morph, and Wade to snitch.

Further clarification:

So pure "Play time" regression is like Wade when he's a kid and he's at the park and he's giggling playing, coloring, watching my little pony etc.

Impure regression is when the truama forces you to be little, so like when Wade felt like logan abandoned him, so he became small at peters' house in that one ficlet "Notes"

Logan's "impure" regression would be caused by him thinking about bad thoughts, stress, or something that triggered him to regress. Triggered regression is also "forced" regression and sometimes can be through positive association.

Like when Wade saw that toy shop and went all squeaky and lit up. "Kitty!!"

"Yeah. I see bub, but we have to catch our train."

"Eeehh!! Kitty!"

"Kiddo we don't have-"

And he sees his innocent and excited he is and groans "im gonna regret this. You can get ONE toy."

*proceeds to walk out with an entire bag cause Wade is spoiled*

He likes meat, cereal, whole mik, those scooby snack treats, raw bones, cooked bones, and bones. It doesn't really matter as long as there's meat to rip off. He likes pretzel sticks and bread sticks, too. His favorite is when Wade gives him raw meat or hell, People's legs.

General ideas:

When he yawns really big, he shows all his teeth and makes the squeak noise then shakes his head.

Wade makes dog safe cookies shaped like dog bones for Puppins and Logan.

Litsen my boys are NOT above cannibalism and if theyre already dead, Logan was taught not to waste by the natives. So who is he to judge?

"Look what I got! Its a super ultra bloody femur with meat bits still on it"

"Eww... wade.. you cant just-"

"Aw.. you dont want it?"

"........ gimme the fucking leg"

No but I did say that Logans puppy regression is CRAZY when he sees a fresh untouched snowy forest and that Wade would have to call for him for like 10 minutes until Logan comes trotting back with a deer leg in his mouth.

@nuggetpool-hi mentioned how Logan would probably like chewing on Wade's disgarded limbs because of some weird subconsious desire to devour his loved ones and how they would stink like wade.

"Now im inside you peanut"

".....I'm going to fucking stab you if you keep saying that."

Wade no, let this man gnaw on his bone on the living room floor in PEACE. Even Mary is side eyeing you for that comment.

And then @whiskeyandcigarsmoke replied, saying that Wade would tell him it was time to go home, and he'd hide in the den that he dug out because he wouldn't wanna go home.

I can see them older and married and if Logan is mad at Wade wade just picks up a stick outside.

"You want it? Huh? You want it?"

"Wade... No... Im still mad at you!"

"WADE- stop"

"You wanna get it big boy?"

"Ggggrrr..."

And Logan would stand there for a second, growling with his arms crossed.

"Ooohh yes you do! Oh yes you do GO GET IT"

"You cant... just.." but his eyes keep going back to the stick.

"Go on! Go get it! Go get it for me! Suchba good boy!"

And Logan finally sighs, grumbling under his breath as he goes to get the fucking stick.

"Yeah hes my good boy."

Even better if logan is fishing and someone compliments his skill.

And you see this old mans head SNAP to him, Glare, and then get beat red. Poor guy can't beat the "good boy" allegations..

Extra:

I feel a huge part of red collar Logan's relationship with Wade is:

Logan: *SNARLS in his face*

Wade: Mornin Wolvie!

Logan: *Stabs him in the stomach*

Wade: Hot.

Logan, mentally: Wtf? Why isn't he scared of me? 🤨 wait.. He's not scared of me 🥹 omg

[peachhcs]

mundane moments

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

some mundane moments between samy & will on facetime as she gets ready for a night out

1.5k words

au masterlist

the vibration from samy's phone made the small area of her desk shake underneath her elbows that were propped up in front of her tiny silver mirror, delicate hands applying the last of her mascara. she flipped the device over, a grin spreading across her pink lips seeing her boyfriend's contact flash across the screen. the girl immediately answered, propping her phone up against whatever was in front of her as will's face appeared. 

"hi will, what's up?" samy continued grinning, checking the last of her eyelashes to make sure she didn't miss a spot. her lack of attention caused her to miss the smile spreading across will's own lips and the flush coating his cheeks. 

he was glad gabe wasn't in the room or else he'd start chirping at him for being so grossly in love. 

"hi pretty girl," the blonde said making samy's own cheeks shed a light pink. he never failed to make her blush whenever that nickname left his lips.

"hi will!" hannah exclaimed, popping into frame for a second.

"hey will!!" bailey also yelled from across the room. samy's friends loved saying hi to will whenever he was on facetime. the boy chuckled, "hey guys."

"we're going out. hannah convinced me to head to this frat with her and bails," the brunette rolled her eyes slightly as she eyed hannah a few feet away. the other girl shrugged, "what? you said you wanted to go out more."

"i know, i know. okay, i need your opinion on what bag i should bring," samy pushed herself out of her desk chair and backed up so will could see her entire outfit while grabbing the two different purses from her bed.

she posed a few times with each bag, but the only thing will could focus on was how good she looked. her slightly too short black skirt and plunging v-neck top had the blonde a bit breathless and red. he wasn't even paying attention to her purses anymore.

"he's not even paying attention, hughes. i told you your outfit would distract him," hannah snickered when no response came from will.

that snapped the boy back into reality as he embarrassingly cleared his throat. samy flushed—loving how she had an effect on him even through a screen. "i bet he wasn't even paying attention to the purses. go with the black one, it goes with everything," bailey commented.

"hey, i was...sort of. black is cute," will attempted to defend himself. his weak effort made the girls laugh instead.

"you're so cute. i miss you," samy crawled back into her desk chair, bringing the camera closer to her face. her lips sparked in the light, showing off her sparkly lip-gloss that will's kissed off those lips so many times in the summer.

"i miss you too. wish you were here or i was there," the blonde said, sadness creeping into his voice.

long distance was hard. with their busy schedules, the two hardly saw one another since they started college. practices and games always got in the way and it wasn't like they could just up and leave without some harsh remarks from their coaches. will desperately missed his girl. there wasn't a time when he wasn't thinking about her—and that was saying a lot considering all he's ever thought about was hockey. he missed her especially when she looked as good she did and will wouldn't be there to have his arm securely around her waist so everyone knew she was his.

"i know. feels like it's been ages since i've seen you," samy frowned as well.

it was even worse because they wouldn't even be spending winter break together—or at least not all of it. will just recently got called up to play on the usa world juniors team with gabe, ryan, fowler, drew, and aram. that meant they'd all be spending their holiday in sweden and while will was extremely grateful for the opportunity, he probably wasn't gonna see samy at all unless she flew out with him. that was a big ask that will knew he couldn't make because he knew how much she loved spending the holidays with her family in michigan.

"maybe i'll get some downtime or something. or i'll just sneak off for a weekend," will chuckled, trying to lighten the mood because he hated when samy was sad.

"i know your coach would bench you for the next five games," samy teased a little as she touched up some of her foundation and powder.

"it's worth it if i get to see you," the blonde shrugged. samy rolled her eyes again, but will would seriously drop everything for her if she asked.

"okay, final look. what do you think?" samy held the phone close to her face so her boyfriend could see her entire makeup look. will couldn't help but take a screenshot, admiring her pretty face and pretty lips and wanting to have a picture to stare at for later. 

"you look beautiful," will said making the girl blush again. he prided himself in the fact that he could still make her blush miles away. 

"and the outfit? too much? too little?" she stood back up so will could see her entire outfit again.

he took another screenshot, face reddening into a deep blush. the short skirts were will's kryptonite and he absolutely adored it when samy wore them. he unashamedly checked her out through the screen, getting distracted once more. she looked so hot and while will swore he wasn't the jealous type, there was a pinch in his stomach thinking about all the guys that would look at his girl the way he was looking at her now. especially in a frat.

"you lost him again," hannah laughed seeing will's longing stare through the screen.

"s-sorry. you look incredible," will flushed when he snapped back into reality again.

"you're so adorable. i love you," samy smiled.

"i love you more," will smiled back.

"i'll text you, yeah? talk to you later," the brunette kissed her phone. will did the same back and they said their goodbyes for now. two minutes later, hannah and bailey both got texts from will.

will look out for her tn for me have fun :)

the girls both smiled, already knowing that will was the one.

—

a little habit will picked up was staying up until he knew samy made it back home safely whenever she went out. sometimes they'd call, sometimes they wouldn't, but either way, will had his eyes on her location as the time ticked closer to one in the morning. he told himself it wasn't a controlling thing, but more of a protective thing because he'd never forgive himself if he went to bed and his girl didn't make it home safely. 

will knew he'd definitely feel drowsy when he had to wake up in six hours for practice, but it was all worth it for his girlfriend's safety and well-being. he watched as her little icon finally made it into her dorm building—a wave of relief filling the boy's chest. before he could shut his phone off for the night, it began buzzing in his hand and samy's name came up on the screen. will immediately answered, smiling when he saw her pretty face a second later. 

"hi beautiful. make it home?" will wondered, trying to whisper as best as he could so he didn't wake gabe up. 

"yup. were you stalking my location?" the girl teased some, shutting her door and shuffling towards her desk. 

will never explicitly told her he watched her location when she went out, but samy picked it up fairly quickly when will was always awake when she called late at night. the blonde's face flushed as he shuffled into the bathroom to speak a little more freely without disturbing gabe. 

"maybe. did you have fun?" the boy wondered, leaning against the counter and fighting the sleep creeping into his system. 

"it was fine. frats are frats. would've been more fun if you were with me," the girl giggled as she began taking off her makeup. 

will smiled some. samy always got giggly when she had a few drinks in her. 

"maybe next time i visit you can bring me along," the boy chuckled. 

"obviously. eth and mark already have an itinerary made out when you come and visit," that made both of the teenagers laugh. "how was your night, though? what did you do?" samy shifted the focus to will. he flushed a little. she never failed to ask about him at any given moment. 

"nothing special. hung out with lean and gabe. we didn't feel like going out," will explained briefly. 

"would've been me if hannah didn't drag me out," samy laughed. 

the two sat in comfortable silence as will watched samy get herself ready for bed. it wasn't until another five minutes when the brunette finally crawled into bed, giving a tired smile to will. the boy returned her gentle smile with one of his own as he made his way back into his own bed. 

"i miss you, will. come visit me soon," the girl mumbled, sleep laced in her voice.

"i miss you too, pretty girl. hopefully i'll see you soon," will said a bit sadly. samy only managed another smile before completely falling asleep a moment later. 

the blonde smiled, blowing a soft kiss to the screen and finally shutting his phone off for the night.  

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter ten

[ chapter ten — 5.5k words ] [ masterlist ] [ prev chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine ] you don't open the letter. richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn

handcuffs, bus, metal detector, strip search. three pairs of socks, toothbrush, toothpaste. everything stolen by your cellmate as soon as you arrive, except what you’re wearing. entire jail segregated to hell. you claimed by the italians, who were expecting you. instructions are simple: stick to the bottom bunk, keep your mouth shut, and you’ll make it. this is jail, not prison.

nothing and no one can touch you when you’re like this, sunk deep inside yourself. your throat is still hoarse from shouting last night, but that’s incidental, not important. nothing is important.

you don’t want to be here, so you’re not. 

you’re standing on the corner with half a pack in your jacket pocket, and he’s not there—you can’t see him right now, not even in your head—but he’s on his way. the winter sinks cold so deep into you that your forehead starts to hurt. if you stand here much longer, you’re going to get a runny nose. you’re itching for a cigarette. you don’t want to smoke without him. 

a lot of people want your attention.

julie, you’ve got mail. who’s this, your man? is he trying to get you back? put a price on it, maybe you can finally get us something from commissary. 

julie, the feds are not playing around. it looks like there’s charges related to human trafficking coming down the pipeline, and they’re trying to tie you to it. i’m doing my best with your defense, but if you don’t want to cooperate, i can’t guarantee—do you hear me? 

julie, when she comes through, we’re gonna take her back here. if you see a guard coming, just keep your mouth shut and kick the dryer, okay?

a lot of people want your attention, but nobody gets it. you can survive this, put one foot in front of the other, only as long as you can stand partly sheltered by the angle of your apartment building, and listen to the wind rushing past. waiting and safe, as long as he never arrives.

the snitch gets carried out on a stretcher.

the lawyer leaves unsatisfied.

you don’t open the letter.

.

.

.

it’s much worse at night. but still, sometimes, you can sleep.

.

.

.

lunch here has a queasy familiarity. it feels like barracks or school. you sit at a long table and corresponding bench with the italians, wondering if all this sodium is gonna worsen your perpetual low-grade headache, squeezing peanut butter from its plastic packet directly into your mouth, not bothering with the bread. 

behind you, you pick out the word doctor in somebody else’s conversation. thinking that it might have something to do with you, you turn and glance over your shoulder, just in time to catch a woman saying, too loudly, no i’m fine. you think her words sound a bit slurred. you’re fifty percent sure her name is aja. 

you’re sweating, says her friend, a woman with box braids whose name you’ve never learned.  she sounds exasperated. did you take something? when she gets no answer, her voice gains a note of urgency. hey. did you take something?

aja, leaning hunched forward on the table, mumbles no.

relieved, her friend says, then just eat your lunch.

i don’t...aja blinks. goes to lift one baby carrot to her mouth, looks at it, then stops. is car warning, she explains.

in the back of your brain, something stirs.

by now, you’ve been noticed by the other women at that table, and they’re staring daggers back. they’re almost all black women, just like all the women at yours are almost all white—and your stare is violating rules more important than the law. 

beside you, your cellmate janine has caught on too. she smacks your arm a little harder than she needs to, annoyed that she has to reiterate a fundamental lesson. mind your business. but you can still hear aja muttering out a slow explanation of increasingly jumbled words, and that’s all you care to hear.

it’s like there was a heavy weighted blanket keeping you down and separate from life, and that’s suddenly lifted. you can see and hear. there are words floating to the surface, and next steps, and you’re on the move, standing up. 

every woman sitting at aja’s table is up on their feet in five seconds flat, except for aja and her friend, though the friend gives you a look that could cut glass. you can hear everyone from your table getting up behind you, too. 

what’s your problem? says one of the women standing opposite.

i’m a doctor. you’re not even looking at her, but when she says, sure you are, there’s enough menace in it to stop you in your tracks. then janine has an iron grip on your arm, trying to drag you away. it’s too late. when you said you’re a doctor, you believed it, and with that the world has come into focus with perfect clarity. the rest doesn’t matter.

is she diabetic? you say.

janine hisses in your ear stupid fucking bitch fast and low and you can see a flicker of movement to your right, another woman from your side coming for you, so you wrestle free from janine and dart a few steps forward. as quick and smooth as if you’d planned it, a woman from aja’s side steps behind you, between you and your own table. she’s taller than you by about six inches. she says, yeah, she’s diabetic. 

permission enough. you sit down on the other side of aja. up close, she’s sweating and wearing a concerned expression, like she’s forgotten where she left her phone. you can hear the guards shouting, getting closer. you ignore them.

don’t touch her, the friend snaps.

who’s gonna take her pulse, then? keeping a careful eye on the friend, you reach for aja’s arm. nobody stops you. aja herself looks at you with vague suspicion in her golden brown eyes, but she’s not all there enough to resist. once you get your fingers on her wrist and find her pulse, you don’t bother counting it for a full thirty seconds, that’s how fast her heartbeat is going. 

at this point, the outside world has gotten too loud, too insistent, and you can feel the moment about to break. 

she needs sugar now, you say to the friend. or she’ll end up in a coma.

got it, she says, and then the guards are on you. with shouts and shoves, they break up the gathering, end lunch ten minutes early. with a yank of your shirt, you’re returned to your group. 

what the fuck is wrong with you, janine hisses, but you barely hear her. you’re still thinking on your patient, trying to get a look. you think you see the friend reaching for somebody else’s tray—to get a packet of strawberry jam, maybe—but you can’t be sure.

.

.

.

it makes no sense. your head throbs. if janine’s threats are even half true, you’re in for more trouble than you know how to handle, and you didn’t know how to handle your troubles before. but somehow, once you’re in the laundry room, it happens. 

you realize that you like it all. the strong smell of detergent, the sun coming in golden through the high windows built too thin for jumpers, the way you have to lean forward and really push against the weight of hundreds of t-shirts in the hamper trolley. even the finicky machine quitting mid-cycle only amuses you, because you know the trick to starting it up again: thump it in the right spot a couple times, hear it rumble back to work. it’s not until one of the guards passes by you that you hear, the fuck are you smiling about? and you realize you were smiling at all. you stop at once.

the thing is: you fucking did it. at dinner, you’ll see aja sitting at that same table, eating and talking clearly. she’ll be fine. you did that. you never thought you’d get this again, but it seems not everything is over. there is still a little life in you, enough to save hers.

not everything is over, and for once you can think about the letter tucked into your bra without it burning you. 

you don’t imagine it contains forgiveness—hope isn’t the same as delusion—but there could still be something in it that you would want to keep. richie could never respect your decision to leave. loyalty is what he’s cared about most, the one value he’s managed to cling onto by the skin of his teeth. but he might at least understand. 

times past, he has understood you far better than you expected, and strangely enough, you’ve understood him too. he might understand you now. stranger things have happened.

you won’t read the letter, of course. but you’ll keep that possibility with you, the one thing you have left to hold.

.

.

.

hey doc, come here. look at this. 

janine is calling to you from across the laundry room, beckoning you towards the back corner where the security cameras don’t quite reach. you hesitate. you’re not stupid. that’s exactly the spot they once made you stand guard, and given how publicly you ignored all orders today, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was janine’s turn to stand watch and your turn to take the beating. it’s been a while since you’ve done that. you’re probably rusty. ah, fuck it.

you leave the bin of stained shirts where it is and walk over, rounding the corner to find two women waiting for you. one you recognize immediately as an enforcer, blonde and tall and glaring ferociously at you. the other, slight and silver-haired, is the leader. 

do you know why you’re here? she says. calm, even pleasant, like a schoolteacher. 

i have a guess, you say.

so the leader explains. she takes her time with it, uses so many words, but the long and short of it is: you have been living an easy life. they have been taking care of you, and you’ve repaid them with nothing but trouble. angie—the massive woman leaning on the far wall, the enforcer—burned herself today in the kitchen, on purpose, badly enough that she got sent to the infirmary. sure enough, there’s a bandage around the enforcer’s left forearm. aja was supposed to also be in the infirmary, unconscious.

why angie and aja would need to be in the infirmary together, with aja unconscious, is obvious. the leader doesn’t need to explain that part. 

interfering is a crime. interfering in someone else’s murder is a crime whose punishment you can’t afford.

i didn’t know, you say. on hearing your thin voice, you realize your mistake. times like these, you’re supposed to keep your mouth shut. matter of fact, almost always, you’re supposed to keep your mouth shut. 

i’ve been told you have a letter on you, the leader says. let me see it.

you say nothing. she motions to the enforcer.

in your second tremendously stupid choice of the day, you fight back. you duck one punch only to get your ears rung by another, square in the left eye. after that, she deals with you easily, with the advantages of height, weight, reach, and the knowledge that this might be her one chance to get you back. she hates you and she fights like it, like she might just kill you and call it an accident. it’s all you can do to keep quiet, not yell for help. 

in under a minute, she’s back to the leader with your letter in her hand, snatched from your bra. the sound of your own heavy breathing is so unsteady, it’s almost as bad as crying. your eye has already begun to swell up. 

we have a problem, the leader says. if you can’t follow the most basic instructions, how can we trust you? and if we can’t trust you, what can we do? 

in the silence, you realize: they have everything now.

you need to prove that we can trust you. you have no idea how you could possibly do that, and then she adds, tell me about what you did for linda.

this time, you think it through before you open your mouth. 

you know what she’s asking about, of course. it’s the only thing you’ve ever done for your boss’s wife directly, and you were told to keep it secret, too. an iud for her daughter-in-law, along with a fake fertility treatment. what a woman would do to convince the people closest to her that she wants children, when she doesn’t. you know what those men are like.

i don’t know what you’re talking about, you finally say. if you have a problem with linda, go settle it with her. 

the enforcer starts forward, but the leader stops her. i’ll give you the night to think about it, she says, as undisturbed as ever. but first, i want you to tell me the list of things we could do if you turn out to not be trustworthy. i need to make sure that you know.

you need to get these women away from you so badly now that it’s almost easy to talk. 

you could kill me. you say that first because you doubt they’d bother with that much effort. or make my life miserable. you could keep that letter. you could talk to your boss and work it so i get stuck in here for a ten-year stretch. 

and other than that?

i don’t know.

we could make it so you never work as a doctor again.

does she know?

her pale green eyes give nothing away, and the longer you stare at her, desperately trying to pierce her pitiless calm, the more you feel you’re only exposing yourself. eventually, you give up. it doesn’t matter if she knows. the carusos know. if they expose you, the best years of your life, spent in hard work and little else, they’ll be gone. the worst years of your life, spent in restless loneliness and little else, they’ll be gone too. if that bomb drops, there’s no point to any of it. a decade of your life, best and worst, all for nothing. every second of every day. everyone you pushed away. 

i’m in jail, you manage to say. i don’t think i’ll get work as a doctor ever again.

i’m just the messenger, the leader says. see you tomorrow.

.

.

.

that night, you wait for janine to snore, then you bury your face in the pillow and discover that you’re wound too tight to even cry. the pillow smells like old socks. you turn over and stare up at the bunk bed above you instead. 

it’s not a choice, it’s just pure dread. in this place, you have nobody else. if the italians drop you, you’ll be as easily extinguished as the slugs that little boys like to sprinkle with salt, but it’ll take much longer, however long they make your sentence. your lawyer said the feds were trying to pin human trafficking on you. maybe they’ll succeed. it’s life or hell, that’s the point. life or hell isn’t a choice.

you will tell them what they want to know. they will pass it back up the chain to old caruso, who in turn will figure out that alessandra has been fooling him all along with that combination of iud and fake fertility treatment. wronged the family, in his eyes. maybe, given the raid that came not long after, it will be considered a sign that she knew the end was coming and helped it along.

maybe she did snitch. you don’t know. does the truth matter? this man looked at his own wounded son and said, he should be dead. not helping death along was his idea of fatherhood. but he had considered it, you know. this is the man you’re going to deliver your patient to, the man who has you by the throat.

when you first learned about the hippocratic oath, you found it romantic in the only way you could bear: do no harm. not be kind or even do good, not change the world or save the day, and certainly nothing as lushly irrational as love. something possible and real. a solid foundation. first, do no harm. 

alessandra might never know that you’re the one who gave her up.

that’s your patient, you remember a veteran surgeon saying to another resident. you can’t exactly remember what made him say it, some disrespect, but the viciousness of his voice left an impression on you. the unspoken seemed obvious. they’re the patient, you’re the doctor. they let you cut them wide open and put your hands inside them, so you better be prepared to show some fucking respect. surgeons always have a reputation for ego, so maybe it had nothing to do with treating the patient well, maybe it was a pure ego thing. but it felt, and still feels, like a personal claim. you violate your own patient and you might as well be a leafless tree, an unloving father.

you think over the leader’s words, trying to find yourself some loophole. relive each word as best you can while sniffing back snot because you have no tissues. but all you find is that the letter is gone now too, and with that, you tighten your jaw and refuse to let yourself start crying, because this time if you lose it, you’ll be lost.

the laundry room sunlight feels like it fell on your face years ago. that hope is gone. richie would not understand you abandoning your patient, and you wouldn’t want him to. you don’t even want him living in the same country as this fucking place. 

why didn’t you open that letter when you had the chance? if it’s not understanding, it’s probably rage, and you want that.  you would willingly read in excruciating detail just how fucked up it is that you caused his best friend’s death and then wormed your way so deep into his life that you could see him up close fighting the grief like a fish against the hook. you’d take that. if he tells you to go fuck yourself, fair enough. as long as it’s his words. that letter is the last of him, and you want it. 

that letter is the last of him because once you give up alessandra, there’s no coming back. once you give up alessandra, you’re not just a legal liability, not just a burden, but a genuine honest to god piece of shit twice over. you were a piece of shit already, but this?

you only realize you had hope now that you’re losing it. you only know you want to be a doctor once your license is on the line; you only know you were going to go back to him now that the door is receding many more years into the distance. there’s some life left in you, yeah. that’s not a good thing.

.

.

.

when you get up out of bed the next morning to meet your fate, your left eye has swollen up so badly you can barely see out of it. you face the morning, the sudden harsh overheads turning on, with half vision and a desperate, helpless longing to be numb. the numbness doesn’t return, though the leader does. 

she sits next to you at breakfast. there’s no enforcer this time. apparently you’re not enough of a threat.

well? she says.

you should’ve cried last night; maybe then you wouldn’t feel such an intense urge to cry now. stupid. you say nothing. you want to pick at the lumps of rubbery scrambled egg on your tray, but you only stare at them.

this is your chance. she doesn’t say it like a threat. she says it like a friend. you sure you have nothing to tell me?

it’s happening, you can feel it happening, but you can barely process. she thinks your silence is a no. she thinks she’s being denied. and you know you need to tell her what she wants to hear, but the guilt of it is so heavy that your mouth stays closed. you’re terrified of her. of yourself. you know what will happen once you crack and open your mouth and let your patient down: your life will be over. and you have no idea of exactly what will happen if you don’t open your mouth, but your imagination can fill in those blanks a thousand different ways. 

you’re just fucking scared in all directions, and what it amounts to is this: you keep your mouth shut.

after what feels like hours, the leader speaks.

okay, she says. i’ll pass it on. 

she gets up from the table. around you, women are eating and joking and squabbling as usual. it doesn’t feel like you made a decision. it doesn’t feel like the end of anything. it just feels like you’re waiting for the next punch to land.

.

.

.

days go by and you’re still tensed, waiting for that punch. nothing seems to change, but it’s cold comfort. and there’s no comfort in the moral victory, either—discovering that you have a single principle left doesn’t make you feel any better when all your energy goes into keeping your guard up. every dull hour, every dull meal could be taken away from you at any moment. the afternoon light in the laundry room is still beautiful. somebody should try to hurt you, and soon. if they don’t, you’re just going to lose it.

and then there she is. the enforcer, sitting on your bed, when you come back from the laundry room smelling of bleach from the white shirts. the burn on her arm is still bandaged. in full light, she looks even bigger. dirty blonde hair swept back in a ponytail, grey eyes hateful. 

when she takes out that blue envelope, your chest tightens. you can tell that she enjoys the look on her face, but it doesn’t last long. it’s strange. she tosses the letter with a dismissive gesture, and it lands on the floor between you.

congratulations. she still hates you, that much is clear—but she’s no longer enjoying herself, and that’s vital. that’s a good sign.

yeah? you say.

jack says you pass. 

she shoves past you hard on her way out. it’s all you can do not to snatch up the letter from the ground, to try and look as though you have some kind of control. 

.

.

.

> dear julie, 

> i don’t know if you remember me, but you dated my best friend mikey a while ago. when i found out you got arrested, i talked to tina about it. she said you helped him till the day he died, and you’re the one who got us narcan.

> that sounds about right to me. i heard negative things about you once, but i never believed them. some things only come around once in a while, like a leap year. (which doesn’t have 365 days, it has 366.) one of those rare things is a friend who’s there when you need them. you have to recognize them when you see them. i think i recognize you now.

> this is just me saying that we haven’t forgotten you. tina says hi, and i’ll come visit, if you’ve got the time to spare. i’m guessing you’re pretty bored in there, and i can honk my horn and take a pie to the face as well as the next guy. 

> yours,

> richie

.

.

.

yeah, that’s him. 

you know it’s him on the first reread, because you can see all the tightness falling away as he writes, from the cramped propriety and false casualness in the first sentences to the dear clown stupidity of the last. you know it’s him on the second reread, because he’s lying in his own way, trying to fit in with what you wanted, pretending he’s just the friend of your ex, not admitting to knowing you. you’re crying. you’ve waited a long time to cry. that’s incidental. 

it’s only on the fifth reread that you snag on the part about the leap year. it’s the weirdest part, the parentheses. long after you have the letter half-memorized and tucked away in your bra, after dinner and lights out, you’re thinking on it. you fall asleep to the question and wake up the next morning with the answer. 

i’d bet my life that there was a sig p365 in his hand when they found him.

some things only come around once in a while, like a leap year. (which doesn’t have 365 days, it has 366.)

what if it wasn’t you?

no, you’ve been inside for less than two months and you’re already detaching from reality. that’s probably what’s happening here. but you can practically feel the warmth coming off the page, and that’s all that matters. 

your nose is practically fountaining snot, and without kleenex, you just wipe it on your sleeve and read the letter again.

it’s only hours later that you stop obsessing over the letter for long enough to truly realize what has happened. you’re going to be okay. 

.

.

.

the days pass quiet now. your swelled eye heals up slowly, until one morning you have full vision again. just as before, all you do is sleep, eat, work, and keep to yourself. nothing has changed. 

nothing has changed on the surface.

.

.

.

you think about alessandra all the time, because of course you do. 

just because old caruso couldn’t get you to flip on her doesn’t mean she’s safe, and yet you think about her the way you think about aja, the way you think about a gap-toothed surgery patient from way back in your residency sometimes. the thing that made you text your bosses begging for news about the carbon monoxide poisoning patients. that’s still in you. 

you know you can’t actually save anyone in a way that lasts—any and all work can be undone in an car-crash instant, and sometimes is—but still. one of your patients has to make it, or else what’s the point?

eventually you stop seeing aja around, but you don’t hear any talk about her getting killed, so you figure: that’s the one. that’s the one you got to save. it makes no sense, you know, but you have this feeling that if you get to save anyone, you only get to save one. so you try to prepare for the news that alessandra is gone. 

but when the news comes of a death in that family, it’s not the one you expected.

you stare at your lawyer, shocked. wait, so old caruso is dead?

suicide, she says matter of factly. hung himself in his cell. 

the fuck? so do we think that… you trail off, mindful of the cameras, even if they’re technically supposed to be turned off for lawyer consultations. you believe he’s dead, but you don’t believe for a second that he actually killed himself. 

your lawyer shrugs. who knows. all that matters is that apparently there’s an informer of some sort that’s turned over a bunch of shit—cellphone records, emails—and they’re willing to give an affidavit that you were threatened. there’s a couple pretty graphic and specific examples. for example, allegedly, after the first surgery you performed in the easystop basement, the oldest of caruso’s sons put his hand in the semi-coagulated blood and—

he’s dead now, you feel obligated to say. it’s whatever. you remember it well, though you wish you didn’t.

she’s admirably noncommittal, your lawyer. it would be nice if it wasn’t so annoying. which one is dead now?

most of them, i guess. the father’s dead, the oldest son is dead, and the youngest son will probably never be the same despite your best efforts. considering those numbers, it’s nothing short of a miracle that jack, the middle son, has apparently decided to spare you. you kept your mouth shut on behalf of his wife, but right now there’s such a tangle of complications and so few actual facts available to you that you can’t begin to guess what’s truly happening behind the scenes. you can only be grateful that you haven’t been hurt worse. 

your lawyer is considering you with shrewd eyes. after a second, she says, if i can get you a plea deal, will you take it? 

i can’t testify, you say automatically.

i know. i think i can get a deal without testimony included.

wait, really? 

she gives you a look, as if to say, catch up, dummy.

how many years? you say.

months, possibly. we’ll see.

you hardly know what to say to that. cool, you say, feebly.

you’ve kept your mouth shut, so they’re taking it easy on you, that’s the bottom line. it feels like a copout to escape the worst punishments on the basis that you were coerced, even if that’s true, because you feel like you probably deserve worse. but fuck, you’ll take mercy from anywhere right now, right and wrong and dignity be damned.

i’ll let you know. your lawyer gets up to go, but just as you’re about to call for the guard, she stops short. oh, one last thing. your landlady finally agreed that you don’t need to pay her rent for the past two months.

lovely.

she threw out all of your belongings that the cops didn’t take.

can’t say i’m surprised. it still hurts, but it’s a hurt dwarfed by the immense relief of an imminent plea deal. i’d sue, but we both know my retainer’s gonna run out too soon for that.

she did forward your mail to me, though. 

my mail? what is it, a dollar fifty off a personal pan pizza?

one postcard from your mom and her boyfriend and his family. one interview request for a doctoral residency program in indiana. 

you don’t know which of those is weirder. the residency applications you mostly did in a period of loneliness and boredom. they were an exercise in desperation daydreaming, not meant to touch real life, and you never even imagined a person reading the papers you submitted. getting a response, a good response, is as strange as a character stepping off a page. and your mom having a boyfriend is no surprise, but a boyfriend with a family? the world’s ended, yeah, but is the world ending?

can you forward those to me? you say.

they’re already in the mail. you should get them within the next two weeks.

when your lawyer leaves, you’re still sitting there. the guard has to call your name twice before you get up.

what a fucking week.

.

.

.

if you’re gonna get out in months, then…

.

.

.

you earn seventy-two cents per day working in the laundry. the first time you go to the commissary, you buy a stamp, an envelope, and a blank card. then you smuggle detergent out of the laundry room so you can bribe janine into letting you borrow her pen.

you have richie’s letter memorized, but you read it again anyway. then you stare at the blank white space of the card. 

what is there to say? well, fucking everything, but there isn’t much you can say with the inevitable prison guard reading it all too. that cuts you off from saying most things, and then dignity wants you to shut up about the rest. sorry i thought my life was over and tore you to pieces about it. turns out my life isn’t over, can we be friends again?

thing is, if you write him a letter, he’ll write back, even if it’s to tell you to fuck off. and honestly at this point, you’d give up a lot more than dignity for that. so here fucking goes.

> dear richie,

> thank you for writing. i’m not good company right now and i can’t really write letters, but maybe we can get coffee sometime when i’m out?

> yours,

> julie

the yours gives you away, but you have so little else to offer. and besides, he started it.

it’s disciplined. that’s what you’re trying to tell yourself. it’s disciplined and concise and it gets across exactly as much as he needs to know and jesus fucking christ that short note looks absolutely pitiful in the comparatively vast white space of the card. 

so you make an addition.

> p.s. tear the bottom off for eva.

as best as you can, you draw the horses from memory. arched necks, white and dark patches on their coats, as close to the style of the girl who loved horses as you can. and then one girl with a superhero’s mask and a cape, holding up an apple so the tallest horse can eat it. you don’t draw well, but you don’t have the pen long enough to try a do-over. there’s a small chance you’ll make her smile, and that’s all you want. 

lick envelope, peel stamp, and send.

[ next chapter pending ] [ masterlist ]

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a huge thank you to all readers.

taglist: @garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc, @beingalive1, @eternallyvenus, @cerial-junkie, @jackierose902109, @shinebright2000, @scorpiolystoned, @fancyvoidtragedy, @justficsandstuff, @fromirkwood, @gills-lounge, @lostfleurs, @spicydonut25— if anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, let me know!

[themculibrary]

Bucky/Clint Road Trip Fics Masterlist

Americana is for Lovers (ao3) - ccbytheseashore M, 8k

Summary: Please tell me you are still alive, read Steve's text.

In Virginia, Bucky replied.

The hell are you doing in Virginia?

Would you believe me if I said trying to find a foam sculpture of Stonehenge?

Tony said to make sure his car comes back in once piece. Please don't shoot each other.

Clint and Bucky set off on an adventure to find an infamous work of Americana history, but find literally everything else (including love) instead.

Aw, Blood, No (ao3) - Reremouse (TheBelfry) M, 19k

Summary: Being turned into a vampire was never part of Clint “Mr. Actual Ray of Human Sunshine (sometimes)” Barton’s life plan. But they say life is what happens while you’re making other plans, and when an Avengers mission to take out a Hydra base goes disastrously wrong, Clint comes out of the fray undead.

Unfortunately for Clint, SHIELD has guidelines to deal with agents who have been turned into vampires: bring them in, or take them out. Fortunately, Bucky is both well-versed in vampires (Hydra—what are you going to do?) and evading SHIELD. Fortunately, Bucky is both well-versed in vampires (Hydra—what are you going to do?) and evading SHIELD.

And sometimes “I’m your hostage. Get moving,” is the way Bucky says “I love you.”

blank passivity (i'm hiding my shit-eating grin) (ao3) - WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN T, 21k

Summary: Upon being handed a mission that includes a tiny car, a cross-country roadtrip, and also, oh yeah, the Winter Soldier, Clint can honestly say that he's not having a great time. Adding in the fact that Barnes doesn't even want to talk to him has Clint preparing himself for the longest drive of his life.

(Clint is also pretty sure that Captain America hates him, but that's neither here nor there.)

OR

If I had a nickel for every time [Bucky took a picture with a beaver], I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice -Dr. Doofenshmirtz

crying wolf out to the moon (ao3) - shatteredhourglass T, 3k

Summary: Clint decides it's a good idea to drag Bucky on a road trip on the day of the full moon. Bucky's too weak for Clint to deny him anything, even if it is in fact, a goddamn terrible idea.

drive ‘n whine (ao3) - hawksonfire G, 1k

Summary: Bucky’s been stuck in the Tower for too long, so Clint does something about it.

Liminal Spaces (ao3) - thepartyresponsible M, 20k

Summary: “Clint,” Steve says, and it’s that same no-bullshit, do-or-die, I really, really mean it voice he used to trot out in the last few innings of close games in high school. “Bucky’s not gonna fly. He’s not going to drive himself. He can’t— I need you to drive him here.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Clint says, and hangs up.

Runaways (ao3) - madetobeworthy G, 1k

Summary: Sometimes Bucky needs to be gone, and sometimes Clint goes with him. They don't need to speak, just listen to the radio as the car devours the miles ahead of them.

see the stars come out of the sky (ao3) - veryrach M, 11k

Summary: “Arrested, yeah, I remember. How the hell do you have ten grand in cash - no, you know what, don’t tell me, forget I asked,” Clint says resignedly. “So let me get this straight. You want me to drive all the way out to Niagara Falls, pick up what I’m sure is a totally legit random bag of cash from somewhere, use it to bail you out, and drive all the way back.”

In which Bucky helps Clint help Barney. There’s a road trip, slightly inept fumbling of the emotional and physical varieties, and a bit with a dog.

the search for clint (ao3) - pherryt G, 2k

Summary: It’s a long road Bucky’s on, and he can only hope Clint is at the end of it.

The Start of Something (ao3) - kookykoi T, 1k

Summary: Bucky had the bright idea of going on a road trip. Clint had the brighter idea of going with him.

worse than a motel 6 (ao3) - spiralsystem T, 7k

Summary: Nat and Clint are assigned to take down the remaining Hydra bases on the outskirts of civilization, the ones that the others clearly don’t have time for. Oh well, road trip for Clint! Until Nat, Clint, and the one person Clint Really wanted to avoid, run into each other at the shadiest motel Clint has ever seen.

you’re my best friend (ao3) - pherryt G, 9k

Summary: Clint and Bucky need to go on a road trip to get to their next mission which Clint figures is the best way to get to know Bucky even better. It goes better than planned!

[white-poppie]

Healing ★ ft. jjk men (Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Toji)

synopsis: how the jjk men help you heal from your fears and worries

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

The way your heart jumps to your throat at Geto-sama cursing out some damn 'monkey' is almost pitiful. Its cruel, the way he is gritting his teeth, the way his voice booms in the echoing chambers

Suguru's rage, its not even directed at you. But his voice is a bit too loud for your liking. Till it overpowers any other voice in your surroundings and sends your mind into an overdrive.

A numbing buzz echoes in the cortex of your brain and you feel a familiar heat behind your eyes.

It claws at you, your bottom lip trembling in the storm you get caught until a soft warmth holds your shoulders.

You look in front, met by scrunched eyebrows, that furrow in concern, pale lips parted in concern.

"Angel?" the storm says, his breath caught in his lungs. But he's cruel alright? Relentless, but the storm calms. He turns into soft gusts around you. Suguru cups your face in his hands, thumb caressing the apple of your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asks quietly and you nod softly.

"What happened? You zoned for quite a bit there, scared me there, angel."

""s nothing, I just got a little startled when you...spoke a little loudly." you say and his eyes soften, pale lips pressing on your temple.

"Sorry angel, I should've been more careful around you, it's my fault, but you gotta know my anger could never be directed towards you," he murmurs, brushing his hand through your hair.

A storm indeed, but Suguru is your breeze on an autumn afternoon.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

You listen intently to Satoru as you both sit on the dinner table. He goes on about his day, the way he was a pain in the ass for the higher-ups again. You chuckle and take a sip from the glass next to your plate, but your fingers lose their grip on the glass as it falls down, shards scattering on the marbled floor. Your eyes widen and silence crashes down in the living area, your breathing fastens and you don't even dare look back at Gojo.

"I am sorry- I am so sorry, I'll clean it up." You say letting out a rictus laugh as you lean down to haphazardly pick up the glass shards, your hands trembling like having just come from the shower on a winter day.

Bending down you pick up the shards with your bare fingers and Satoru's eyebrows furrow at your behaviour.

"Y/N, sweetheart you are gonna prick yourself with those shards." He says but his words cease to travel the vacuum you have built around yourself.

Gojo kneels to your level and grabs your wrist, feeling your erratic pulse under his fingers, the shiver of your limbs, you look similar to a dog under a firework show and his chest hurts.

"Sweetheart relax, you'll hurt yourself," he says softly, terrified, even more than you possibly. He is so scared of scaring you. He is so scared of making it worse. You take in a sharp breath and nod lightly.

"Let me get the dust-pan and broom this," he whisper softly, leaving you between the constellation of the shards, your thoughts, coiled into an unforgiving a ball, only broken when he walks back, kneeling beside you, gently dusting the pieces into the pan as he looks at you with a smile.

"There, all done," he says and searches into your eyes for a reaction. The faint cinkle in them shouts, 'you are not mad at me?' It’s so obvious from the watery look on your face.

“I am not mad, sweetheart, I could never be mad at you” He affirms and smiles. His hands, move to brush your hair gently, reaffirming it.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

You hate this. You hate how stupid this scanning ticket-check system makes you feel. It makes you feel like a boomer, a hobo if you might as you struggle with getting the scan done. Its not even then fact you can't operate it. You can easily operate it, but there's people behind you, waiting, groaning all the the while your hands tremble in mortification.

Beep. Denied

Beep. Denied.

Beep. Denied again

It was never ending, the machine kept on denying your effort and you could swear you heard someone in the line behind you groan.

"Here, let me," a voice interjects and you look up at Nanami, his eyes softening at the sight of your flushed face as he gently takes the ticket from you and gets it scanned...oh so it was this way. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment, wanting to cry out of anxiety.

You feel Nanami's arm against your lower back as it curls around your waist, walking a few steps ahead with you, his embrace blocking any extraneous factors that trouble you.

"You okay, love?" he inquires softly, his thumb rubbing circles on your spine.

"I feel stuped Ken'" you mumble your voice cracking.

“You are one of the smartest people I know, y/n” he coos slightly, “you just got overwhelmed, even the best of us get overwhelmed sometimes and that’s alright.” He says, caressing your shoulder gently.

“There’s a lot of things you can do that I can’t.”

“Like?”

“Hmmm….like being this effortlessly cute all the time.” He chuckles and kisses your forehead.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji Fushiguro was one of those men who had not an ounce of gentleness in them. Those hunter eyes of his that never softened at anything. Its not his fault, its just the way he looks. He can't help it.

The thing about Toji is that he snores while sleeping and yet somehow even with those deep snores, his sleep is restless.

So when he grumbles and opens his eyes to your dry sobs, scrunched eyebrows and spasmodic body. He jolts awaken.

The thing with Toji is that he hates his sleep being disturbed, but what he hates even more is seeing you in despair, seeing you suffer like that.

"Y/N, wake up, you are having a nightmare," he says, softly nudging you with his scarred hands. You jolt awake and turn to him, your eyes blurry, your cheeks wet, and your lips parted for an aborted sob.

Toji's heart drops to his stomach at the visual. He sits up straight and his arms instantly come up to pull you to his chest.

"Ssh, what did you dream about baby?" he asks, letting you nuzzle into him and get comfortable as his hands softly caress your back, his warm palm running up and down, heating your cold body.

You sigh against his chest and shake your head, "Just had a dream that you left me..." You say and he sighs, resting his chin on your head

"Such stupid dreams my baby has," he says calmly, his deep voice rumbling in a low purr. "How could I ever leave you?"

© white-poppie 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

"Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!! [Synopsis: Read full synopsis HERE ... The year is 1759, London. Shakespeare’s new estate is set on fire by Reverend Francis Gastrell. History repeats itself, 250 years later when Luna Gastrell stands in turmoil due to her ancestry taking a sinister turn. A ploy of vengeance, illusions, betrayals, blooming romance and morally conflicting measures, and the cards lie in favour of none.] I am a 16-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! It's okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future!

Also Check out: L'appel du vide (✔️) (Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! With no memories of what transpired two days before his death, you team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband? )

— JUJUTSU KAISEN - Fanfictions

TAGS: @akumicchi, @rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @cleaningfairylevi, @buttercupspotify, @euphoricbi @ynjimenez

﹒ Taglist   (lmk in the comments in case you wanna be added and the link doesn't work!)

[ottpopfic]

He can't do this, and now he's wrecked everything here too, Leo turns on his heel and books it out of the house.

“Leo! Where are you going?!” Piper calls after him as the screen door slams, but it doesn't matter.

He just runs, and keeps running, just mindless sprinting as fast and as far as he can go. He's going to keep going, just like always, until he collapses in a new place with a new start like all the times before. Or he would if he didn't hear Piper call after him

“Leo Stop!”

Its charms speak, magic the only thing able to push past the need to get the fuck out of there. His legs lock mid-stride, momentum overbalancing him as he careens ass over tea kettle into the dead cattails. He still feels the need to run, the need to go, but he can't move his limbs with the spell on him. He ends up just laying on his back, looking up at the gray winter sky and screaming himself raw into the empty air

“Jesus Christ” Piper pants when she finally catches up to him, hands on her knees as she sucks wind “How are you so fast with those short little legs”

“Fuck you” he yells back trying to kick to no avail “Let me go!”

“Are you gonna run if I do?”

“You don't need me here” he continues to yell, but he's sounding more choked then he would ever admit “I'm just making everything worse like always, let me go!”

“Of course I don't need you dumb ass, but I sure as shit want you, get back in the goddamn house”

“You can't make me” he screams like a tantruming child

“Yes I fucking can!” Piper yells back, one hand still on her knee as she continues to try and catch her breath, the other pointing back the way they came “Get Back In The House!”

Leo goes, she can make him after all

“Never run off on me like that again” Piper berates him once they are both back inside, shoving him down onto the couch “you didn't even grab a coat!”

“A coat!?” he shouts hackles raised “That's all you care about?”

“Shut the fuck up” she scolds, finger in his face “Stop being an asshole I know what you're doing”

“What!? What am I doing?”

“You're trying to pick a fight to make me push you away” she reprimands “It's not gonna work dickhead all you are doing is scaring the shit out of me!”

“Exactly” he cries, half needing the fight, half wanting to curl up in a corner and die “I'm just making everything worse, I brought the shit here with me, I need to go!”

“No” Piper cuts him off “No shut up, I'm done doing this we’re watching Moana”

“What?!”

Piper beelines for the remote “SHUT UP WE’RE WATCHING MOANA”

They watch Moana, it's as good as the last three times Leo has seen it, one of the ones Georgie always requests for movie night. At the Way Station they have an old but reliable projector that's been tinkered into near sentience, casting its light on the wall that holds the building's liminal space. It makes Leo a little homesick, too bad he can never go back

They end up with Leo curled up against one arm of the couch with Piper laid out across the rest, her head on Leo’s shoulder and her arms around his waist like she's trying to hold him down. It's nice, to be held, it feels like a long time since he's been held. Even when he and Cal cuddled, alone or during the movie nights, it was always Leo doing the holding. And it felt stiff, awkward. He would get hugs from Georgie and Jo and Emmi, but they never held him, he never let them

“I lied” Piper murmurs eventually into the still

“Hmm?”

“Earlier when I said I didn't need you,” she confesses, eyes on the singing crab “I lied. I do need you”

Leo heaves a huge sigh and rests his head on top of hers, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her back “I need you too Beauty Queen”

They watch Ponyo next, and then Thumbelina, and then somewhere in the middle of The Princess Bride Mr. McClean comes home. Leo gets roped into helping with dinner, it feels good to do something with his hands, he's starting to feel the prickling in his fingers as his creation calls to him asking to be finished. He pointedly ignores the feeling

[yeetusthemighty]

So I got a little insane about Ninjago when I stayed up too late one night

[this is copy-pasted from my notes app]

So I was listening to lysergide daydream and then Christmas kids came along and I was reading a Ninjago fic when it happened and and what if they were normal. And ok? And like just were friends. Hanging out. Doing stupid bullshit together. And then like what if that’s what they all want at some level. What if they daydream about going on stupid camping trips and accidentally falling in the lake. What if they daydream about going to their favorite noodle restaurant and challenging each other to see who can eat the most bowls before throwing up?

What if Jay and Nya wish they could go watch a bad movie together and go to a greasy diner after? What if Zane and Pixal want to be able to do the same without getting weird looks everywhere they go? What if Lloyd wants to go to a normal school where he is rewarded for good behavior, and have his only worry be how he is going to finish an essay and science project by Friday? What if Cole wants to be able to go hiking in the woods and camp under the stars for a few nights, just because? What if Kai wants to spend a night out in Ninjago city where he doesn’t have to look down every alleyway he passes?

What if Lloyd finds a postcard in the rubble of a fallen building during the latest attack and longs so desperately that he and his friends could be the people in that photo that he keeps that postcard under his pillow every night after? What if Zane tries to join his friends outside one winter to enjoy the snow but has to lock himself in the basement of the monastery for hours afterward reminding himself of where he is? What if Jay can’t bring himself to go into antique stores because once he went to buy an old radio that his parents would’ve loved but one of the lamps in there looked a little too familiar, so he had to run out without it? What if Nya wants to go back to her favorite meditation spot at a waterfall but she can’t stand the sound of running water anymore because underneath it she can still hear those faint whispers calling her back home? What if Cole dreads when he goes to honor his mom on each Day of the Departed because every time he feels a little bit of himself silp away, and he is afraid that one day the last of him will go too? What if Kai doesn’t fully enjoy using his elemental powers anymore because something is different about them after he watched Aspheera use them to burn Ninjago city to the ground? What if Pixal realized that none of the nindroids shes ever met were able to live normally, so she secretly built another nindroid to give them that chance, but they were destroyed when the spider bombs went off, and that crushed her more than any of the ninja will ever know.

What if. 

What if. 

What if.

What if Zane can’t bring himself to go back to the crossroads because during his lookalike contest he realized that there were no Formlings, no ice fishers? Not even one of those helmets he can instantly recognize? And somehow the lack of anything there is so much worse than seeing them again ever was. Because it gives him a gut punch that leaves him hollow for days after. Because he knows that they know. That the things he did will forever be immortalized in the stories that they tell for generations to come. And that he sees the same hollow fear in Fritz’s eyes too?

Ugh ugh ugh 

Sopping. 

I’m gonna design them to cope.

Timestamp: 2:40AM

Never let me listen to songs at 2:00 in the morning ever again [this will happen again]

Erryck I don’t know if this is comprehensible or not but but like do you understand???

None of them are mentally well but they pretend they don’t care because none of them know how to cope with the loss of their chance at life.

[woso-dreamzzz]

I'm gonna add to the Gremlin hcs for her asthma, based on my own situation which sucked lmao

One day they try to dictate how many puffs of her inhaler she gets, trying to say she's only allowed so many when her doctor upped her dosage after the rough winter months making her asthma worse

It's actually unbelievable how many times this happens, teachers think they know better and are always right 😂😂

Gremlin makes eye contact with teachers as she goes over the puff limit they've given her and then pulls the 'well, I don't think my cousin, the Head Girl (Chook) would be happy that you're harming my education'

[99hook]

What if HOOK and Y/N are friends and they get snowed in at a cabin or hotel and they can’t leave. Then the power goes out from the storm and he has to keep her warm when it gets too cold without electricity 🥺

i hope you enjoy it babes!

———

You had to turn the volume up several times just to hear the movie you were watching thanks to the heavy winds kicking it up a couple notches outside.

Through the window you could see thick snow starting to pile higher on the ground, so much so that it was reaching the top of the tires on Tyler’s car parked out front.

Just as soon as you were about to nudge his shoulder and point it out to him, pitch darkness suddenly surrounded you.

Silence filled the living room for a couple moments before you heard him sigh. You could barely see his silhouette in the darkness but you felt his eyes on you. He shifted around a bit before a golden flame illuminated his face.

“Guess we should light some candles.” He says as he holds the lighter out and gets up from the couch. “Did you see any around here earlier?”

You got off the couch and walked around the coffee table, doing your best to focus your eyes in the pitch dark, but you heard him say, “Here” from behind you.

You turned around and reached a hand out, grabbing an extended lighter and sparking the flame. You then set out to find some candles and thankfully came across some in one of the bathrooms, decorated all around the bathtub.

You grabbed four, assuming it would be enough and brought them back into the living room where Tyler was still searching the same spot as if they were going to miraculously appear on the shelves.

“Found some” You said, placing them down on the table and lighting them. It served very little use but it was at least illuminating the small section of the couch that the two of you were sitting on.

You settled back down against the cushions and clutched a blanket under your chin. It was already starting to feel a lot colder without the heat running through the vents.

It was awkwardly silent for a couple moments before Tyler spoke again, only when he looked over and saw the blanket covering the lower half of your face.

“Are you cold?” He asks, scanning the living room and finding more blankets folded up in a basket in the corner. He gets up to grab them, unfolding them and draping one over your legs while he keeps the other one for himself.

“I hope the power comes back on soon. We were getting to the good part of that movie.” He chuckles.

“I thought you said you’ve seen it a hundred times.” You teased. The golden glow of the candlelight put a sparkle in his eyes when he looked at you.

“But you haven’t.” He pointed out.

It was then that he looked out the window and saw his car nearly submerged in the snow. His head fell back against the cushions with another sigh.

“I was gonna say we could go sit in my car if it gets too cold in here but it looks like it’s buried.”

“Yeah, It’s okay. It’s- it’s not that cold.”

He heard the trembling of your voice and looked over at you again, this time with a bit of concern that you could see even in the dimly lit candlelight.

“Are you still cold?” He asks, and even though you shake your head he can practically see you shaking underneath the blankets.

“Here” He says, giving you his blanket.

“No, keep it. I’m fine, just anemic.” You tried to laugh it off, but the chill in the air was getting worse by the minute and the snowstorm didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

“I’m good. This is nothing compared to New York in the winter.” He says, draping his blanket over the others laying on top of you.

You eyed him for a moment to make sure, but he showed no signs of being cold, which made you wonder if he was just conditioned from growing up up north or if you were just wimpy for being spoiled with warm weather nearly all year round back home.

“How long do you think this storms gonna last?” You asked.

He shrugged as he turned his attention back out the window. “No idea, but we might as well get used to it for now, cause it doesn’t look like it’s letting up at all.”

You curled up under the blankets and tried to keep the warmth stored enough to not shiver, but it wasn’t easy.

After about an hour and a half, it felt like all the heat in that house was gone.

“I feel like we’re stuck inside an igloo.” You said, cupping your hands over your mouth to store warm breaths.

Tyler chuckled, his arms crossed over his chest but he still didn’t seem nearly as cold as you were. Either that or he was just way better at hiding it.

“Igloo is a little dramatic. It’s cold, but not that cold.” He said, lolling his head to the side to shoot you a pointed look.

“It’s actually freezing.”

“I mean, it’s only gonna get colder until the power comes back on, so maybe-“ but he trails off when he’s about to finish that sentence.

“Maybe…?” You tried to encourage him.

“Maybe we should get under the blankets together. Body heat, y’know?”

You blinked twice, unsure if you heard him right.

“It doesn’t have to be weird. We just need to stay warm and it’s only gonna get colder in here.” He shrugs. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

You didn’t think about it long before you nodded at him, unwrapping the blankets from around you and holding them up, allowing him to move closer and get underneath them with you.

He looked like he was a bit surprised that you agreed. He moved slow at first, until you said, “Hurry up, I’m losing heat.”

You noticed his lips tipping up in a smile as he got under the blankets with you. You slid over to allow him some room and the couch being as narrow as it was made it difficult for the two of you, so he wrapped one arm around your shoulders and guided you down to his chest.

You laid on top of him, and immediately realized how warm he was. Your legs tangled up under the blankets and he wrapped his other arm around you, holding you as close as he could to keep you as warm as possible.

“Better?” He asks with a satisfied smirk. Glancing up, even in the diminishing light, you swore you saw a shade of pink dust his cheeks.

“Mhm” You nuzzled your face into his hoodie, realizing how much you liked the scent of his cologne embedded in the fabric.

He could hear the sleepiness in your voice and looked down to see your eyes fluttering. He leaned up slightly and blew the candles out before he laid back down.

You peered your eyes open to the pitch darkness but the sound of his soft breathing was already pulling you closer to sleep.

You felt his fingers lightly twirling the ends of your hair, something he probably did subconsciously.

“Thanks for being my personal heater.” You mumbled, feeling his chest rise and fall with a slight chuckle before his arms tightened around you.

“Anytime.”

[fenikorg-talks]

so i was thinking of zosan, again, and I remember a folklore story we got here in my country that every child knows and surprisingly no one knows what the name of the story is. when my father told me this story when I was little he named it "the girl and the last leaf" so I'm gonna go with that.

the story goes around this girl who's sick (they always change the sickness, pneumonia, cancer, anemia, etc) in plain fall and is always looking out the window. from the window of the hospital room she can see a tree that's getting brown, and when winter hits, she declares that she's gonna die when the tree lets its last leaf fall. she gets worse and worse and the tree keeps letting leaves fall. at some point she meets a painter in the building across the hospital (the meeting is changed, too, depending on who tells the story, idk why) and she askes for painting lessons. the painter tells her he will go to Europe and will come back in spring, but she's sad because she will be dead by then. the day that there's only one leaf in the tree she goes to sleep ready to die, just to wake up at the song of birds and a ray of sun through her window. The leaf is still there. The painter comes back and invites her to his home, and the mother, looking at the window, sees the tree completely naked, but doesn't tell her daughter. when they returned to the hospital the doctors say the girl is healed, and the mother looked again at the tree, still with a leaf left. turns out the leaf was painted in the painter's building wall by him, giving the girl the hope she searched for.

and, like always, i had to make it zosan. so what I'm getting at is: sanji is the sick girl and zoro is the painter. just saying that I'm 100% sure zoro would do anything to make sanji feel better whether he likes him romantically or platonically

that's it, thanks for reading my ranting

[nex-is-sleeping]

First meeting...

A Shadow x reader fic

I may actually make this a series- let me know if you want it to be !! But for now, a little oneshot.

"What is so bad about him ?" You ask the blue hedgehog in front of you. "First of all he's a faker. Have you seen him ? He's totally trying to copy me ! And second he's a huge part pooper, I bet he's never had fun in his life, hah !" Sonic joked. You had went out in the forest earlier today and saw a cave, you nearly went in before Sonic had stopped you "I can take care of myself, Sonic !" "Oh yeah ? How about that time Egghead captured you ?" Jested the  azure hedgehog. "That was once. Plus, you're no better yourself ! You're literally a danger magnet." "Well," Sonic chuckles "Danger is my middle name" You rolled your eyes and chortled. "Alright, alright, I gotta go, Y/n, I promised Knux I'd watch the Master Emerald while he goes out with Rouge. See ya !" And he raced off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

You really wondered about what was in that cave. But Sonic said it was no good because of that Shadow. But then again, what harm could he really do ? You fixed up your fur/hair, and set off into the forest. God, you thought it was earlier. You looked at your watch. Oh, right it's winter. It's only 6:57. You walked through the night, looking at the stars. You didn't know much about them, but hell where they beautiful. You looked Infront of you to find yourself infront of the vast cave from earlier, a light accompanied with some crackling inside. Let's just hope he's in a good mood. You thought as you took the first step into the cave. Wind rushed outside as the rain began and thunder clapped. You jumped in surprise. You slowly walked down, getting closer to the light. You tried your best not to make a sound. Maybe this was a bad idea ? No ! It's just Shadow. He couldn't be any stronger than Sonic. You finally face the fire. You look around... Nothing. Maybe Sonic was wrong ? Maybe he lived in a different cave !a Great. You hate rain, you couldn't leave now. You turn around to sit, but you're met with a face inches from yours.

You yelp and stumble back. You look him up and down. His coat is a jet black, with red streaks running through his quills. On top of his chest is a white puff of fur. His hands are gloved, with gold cuffs. Finally, his eyes. They're crimson and seem to be studying you, finally he speaks "Who are you, and what are you doing here ?" His voice is deep, smooth, and firm. You could only assume this was Shadow. Shadow The Hedgehog. You shook at the break of the silence. You didn't know what to say. It'd be weird if you said you where here for him. You didn't answer. "I asked you, who are you, and what are you doing here ?" He spoke louder, firmer. Shadow was mad that his personal space was invaded, worse, is that it's someone he didn't know. "I-" You cleared your throat to help you sound confident. "I am Y/n L/n. I came for..." You paused. What do you say ? You're train of thought was cut off by the jet black hedgehog infront of you. "Well ? Answer or get out." He demanded. You looked towards the cave entrance, immediately reminded of the thunderstorm. "You're not gonna let me go out in a lighting storm, right ?" You nervously laughed.  Shadow looked at you, and then the cave entrance and thought for a moment. "Fine." You mentally cheered.  You turned around to see the fire behind you, along with a red sleeping bag. That's all there was in this cave. You almost felt sorry for the hedgehog. But, then again, living like this was his choice.

You sat down on the ground, the fire's warmth welcoming you. Shadow studied you some more They didn't tell me why they are here. Why ? And why would they be in this part of Green Hills in the first place ? He thought. You saw Shadow ruthlessly staring you down. It intimidated you almost. "Shadow ?" Shadow fumbled at the break of silence. "How do you know my name ?" Oh shit. How where you supposed to tell him ? Ugh, screw it "I heard of you from one of my friends." "Who ?" "His name is Sonic, Sonic the hedgehog." Shadow groaned at the sound of the blue hedgehog's name. "Don't listen to a word he says, he's just a faker. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Shadow The Hedgehog, otherwise know as The Ultimate Life Form." He clenched his fist infront of him. You slightly cringed at the action. You yawned and looked at your watch, 10:28PM. "Woah, okay ! So, I'm going to go to sleep, alright, Shadow ?" He nodded with a hum. You laid down, using your hand as a pillow. You finally fell asleep.

Shadow looked at you, a smile intruding on his face. He stepped outside, and climbed up onto the roof. He sat down, water droplets wetting his quills. He looked at the moon, remembering his best friend, Maria. If she saw him now, what would she think of him ? Shadow let his feet hang off of the overhang as he laid in the memory of her. He smiled as he thought about the fun times they had on the ARK. How she'd teach him all about the stars, and how she was the first to suggest the streaks in his quills. Suddenly lightning clapped, making a sound too familiar to him. Those great memories he was once basking in became not so great. Shadow remembered leaving his friend, her dying. Tears rose in his eyes. He quickly climbed down the rocky cave and went inside.

The hedgehog went into a corner, slowly rocking himself back and forth, breathing heavily. He tried not to wake you, but failed in doing so. "Shadow..?" You awoke after only about 10 minutes of sleep. You heard quiet sobbing from the other side of the cave. You quickly got up, the tiredness leaving you, and went to comfort the near stranger. "Shadow ?? What's wrong ???" You questioned, but was met with nothing. Instead, you hugged him. Shadow's eyes widened. He couldn't remember the last time someone had hugged him like this. He didn't care that he didn't know you now. He sobbed into your shoulder "I miss her. So, so -hic- much" you rubbed his back. You had no idea who he was talking about, but consoled him anyways. Soon enough, he was asleep in your arms. The hedgehog had cried himself to sleep. You looked at him as he slept in your arms. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to leave him like this ? You stayed, and Shadow subconsciously held onto you like there was no tomorrow. And soon enough, you fell asleep to the sounds of the rain...

[gallusrostromegalus]

What are Loly and Menoly gonna be like? In the anime&manga they didn't seem to do much besides beating Orihime up and then getting beaten in turn.

Well, until last week I did not know they had canonical names, and I cannot reliably spell "melony" so in the fic they've been renamed Cici (the black haired one with pigtails) and Vivi (the blonde with the pixie cut) , which is much cuter and fits with Aizen's weird double letter thing.

In the fic, they're aware that working for Ulquiorra is UGH, like- so lame. I mean he's kinda cute in a wet kitten sorta way but then he opens his mouth and says the dumbest shit you've ever heard in you life and you also live with Grimmjow so that's a low bar but there he goes, whining about emotions again. Like- we have, like? Prozac? Gin specifically brought you prozac from the human world boss. For you. Specifically. Complaining about being sad and then refusing to do anything about it is like, turbo-lame, you know?

(I may have also given them valley girl accents.)

But anyway, Hime-chan is like, SO COOL. She smuggled like, a ton of stuff in from the human world without Aizen noticing! ...And like half her closet but it was like? Subterfuge? Aizen got sooooo distracted by her wearing like twenty layers of clothes it totally never occurred to him that she might have stuff in the pockets so she brought all kinds of like, candy and nail polish- look how sparkly it is!! Okay, she did also bring her homework and she's kind of a dork but like? That's part of like? The charm? She's so earnest it's kinda sweet and you feel bad, you know?

Anyway, she's totes generous too! Like once she worked out that she wasn't gonna freeze to death, she said that if there was anything we liked we could like, totally have it? And she's sooo smart about like, color-matching- I'm a winter, but Vivi is totally an autumn, and there's a trick to picking out the right pinks and OH-EM-GEE! She totally knows how to tailor clothes too because uh- she's a little overburdened in the chesticular department, you know? Yeah, you know- Anyway, that's where this wicked cool outfit came from!

So like anyway, the thing I came down here for is that Hime-chan is also like, SUPER-GREAT at cooking which is really awesome because the only other person here who knows how to cook is Mr. Tousen and as you know the culinary situation is DIRE- Vivi says that yesterday, she saw Gin just like. Unhinge his jaw and swallow a raw chicken whole. He. Didn't. Even. Take. The. Feathers. Off. And worse? Last week I saw Aizen eating slices of white bread with nothing but mayonnaise.

They weren't even toasted.

So like, understandably, Mr. Tousen is like, MEGA-DEPRESSED and stopped eating which is super-sad so Hime-chan is gonna throw like, a kitchen party to see if we can get him to eat and then she was like- "we should totally invite the other girls!" Because I guess that's what humans are like, but she's really sweet and and she's so smart and she's gonna make like- what did she call them? Oh yeah! Guava-and-bleu cheese macarons! I don't know what they actually like, are? But it'll be good! C'mon it's gonna be cool and fun and there's gonna be a guava please say you'll come?

Tier Harribel, who has been doing an excellent impression of a granite cliff face this whole conversation: ...

Cici: *^*

Tier: ...okay.

Cici: OHEMGEEEEEEYYYAAAY! THIS IS GONNA BE SO MUCH FUN THANK YOU OKAY I'LL SEE YOU AT LIKE SIXISH? BYEEE!

Franceska: ...dude, what?

Tier: I have no idea, but I am extremely bored and actually borderline curious about this 'guava' thing.

[kaminocasey]

25 Days of Life Day: Day 9 - Life Day Pranks with Delta Squad

Summary: You and Scorch play a prank on Boss, it doesn't go well.

Pairing: (Sorta) Delta Squad x gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Implied that they're all into the reader, Grumpy!Boss, Rude!Vau mentioned, slight angst

A/N: I KNOW this is SO late lol. BUT the urge to do a part two eventually is SO strong. Anyway, it's still the holiday season at least, and I'm going to take the course of the winter to do these so maybe it'll help with my seasonal depression? Idk anywayyyy here we go.

You and Scorch have spent all day wrapping the ship as a little prank just for Boss. Sev had said if you pranked him, him being Sev, he’d kill you. But he had slightly smiled when he said it, so you knew he wasn’t serious. You’re Sev’s only soft spot. But Boss… Boss is a hardass. You’ve never even seen the man smile. 

“A little higher.” You call up to Scorch as he hovers over the ship with his jetpack.

“Got it, cyar’ika.” Scorch calls back down to you as he flies up a bit higher and tapes the final piece of wrapping paper over the top. 

It was perhaps the greatest prank any squad has ever come up with. And you’ve seen the goofy pranks of the 501st. They’re pretty good… but this? Classic.

“Boss is gonna kill you, you know.” Sev’s deep voice purrs to you as Scorch lands.

You and Scorch glance at each other with a grin and both say, “Worth it.” 

Sev just shakes his head and joins Fixer on the crates. You and Scorch attempt to find something else to keep you busy until Boss comes back from whatever he’s doing. 

An hour later, Boss comes walking into the hangar, his helmet in one hand and looking down at the datapad in the other. And he nearly drops both when he looks up at the ship. 

“HAPPY LIFE DAY, BOSS!” You grin.

“Take it down. Now.” Boss stares at you. 

Your grin falters slightly and Sev notices. Nonetheless, you try to keep your cool. 

“Oh, come on Sarge. It’s-” Scorch starts but Boss silences him with a glare.

“Defacing GAR property is your idea of a prank?” He stares down at you, angrily.

“I think if it’s able to be taken down, it doesn’t count as defacing, right?” You start, crossing your arms.

Honestly, he’s taking it worse than you expected, which is almost a little embarrassing. You’d expected him to just roll his eyes and shake his head. Dammit… Sev is going to give you such a hard time. 

“Maybe if you spent as much time working on your medical skills as you do these silly pranks with Scorch, you’d-” Boss starts to fire off but Sev steps in between the two of you, backing his brother up.

“Go get something to eat, Boss. We’ll clean this up.” Sev mumbles and you look at him, wide-eyed.

You’ve never been yelled at by Boss before. In fact, this broodiness seems a little out of character even for him. 

But still, you can’t help that your feelings are hurt. And you definitely can’t help the lump in your throat or the slight tremble of your bottom lip. You don’t notice the hard stare that Sev is giving the sergeant as you go and start to pull the wrap down off the ship. And you also don’t notice the disapproving shake of Fixer’s head as Boss walks past him. 

See, what you don’t realize is all of these Delta lads really care for you in their own way. Especially Sev, who more than cares about you, but doesn’t know how to tell you. 

“Lemme help, cyar’ika...” Sev murmurs as he ignites his jetpack and flies up to the top of the ship, ripping the wrapping paper down until it all falls over you, making you laugh. 

He smiles down at you, bright teeth and all. Something you don’t see often. But he loves the sound of your laugh. They all do. 

Fixer and Scorch come and scoop all of the paper and toss it into a bin across the hangar. 

“Don’t let Boss’ grumpy ass get you down.” Sev tells you.

“You’re one to talk.” Scorch teases as he walks by.

Sev’s middle finger goes up, making Scorch crack up. You laugh with him, but then realize that you’ve seen Boss this grumpy before. When Vau chewed him out really bad and made him feel lesser than. 

“Oh…” You murmur. “I’ll catch you guys at dinner. I gotta go do something.”

“Alright.” Sev nods, watching you walk briskly toward the barracks. 

When you reach your barracks, the doors slide open and you find Boss standing over the desk by the window overlooking the Kaminoan Sea. He’s looking down at his data pad, but slightly lifts his head when the doors open, barely acknowledging you.

“Are you okay?” You approach him, slowly. 

He grunts out a ‘yeah’ and you know you should leave it at that, that you shouldn’t meddle. He’s never been forthcoming with his emotions before, why would he now?

“Whatever Vau said to you today… doesn’t define you, Boss… You’re… a really great leader. I wouldn’t rather follow anyone else.” You look down at your feet. “I know he’s unnecessarily hard on you. But you’re better than him.” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He murmurs.

When you look up, he’s turned around looking down at you. You go warm under his stare, probably from embarrassment from earlier. 

You shrug, standing your ground, though. “What I said is still true.”

His eyebrows go up ever so slightly. You’ve made it weird, you realize that now. 

“Anyway… I just… wanted to tell you that.” You murmur and start to turn to leave.

“I’m… sorry about earlier.” He tells you, making you pause to look at him again. 

He’s looking at you with a softness, an almost sheepishness. 

“Thanks.” You smile, softly. 

He nods. “You’re a great medic… Wouldn’t rather have anyone else stitch me up.”

Your chest tightens at his kind words. Two times today he’s been uncharacteristic. 

“Let’s eat.” You nod to the door.

He looks back at his holopad. 

“Doctor’s orders.” You smile, making his chest tighten. 

“Sure thing, Doc.” He smiles slightly for the first time since you’ve known him and you feel like it could be a Life Day miracle.

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