#i know this show is gonna be a pain to color ugh

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Megumi Fushiguro only showing his vulnerable side around you.

And it's not like he doesn't trust his friends. It just happens that he doesn't feel safe showing that side of him near them. He thinks that it makes him seem weak. And he definitely doesn't want to look weak.

He didn't even use to show his sensitive side around you at first. He never initiated cuddles, kisses or even hugs. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd wake up feeling brave and would hold your hand. Once in a blue moon.

But bear with him! It's his first relationship, so he has zero clue about what to do in this whole dating thing. He needed a patient partner, and, luckily, you were exactly that: never forced him to do anything he didn't want to do, never initiated anything without his consent first and never complained about his lack of experience. You were perfect for him.

One day, he was on his way to Jujutsu High after a difficult mission. His whole body was aching from head to toe, his head was hurting and he had some really bad cuts that were gonna scar for sure. The fight with a special curse had taken a toll on his body, even if he wasn't alone during it. And, honestly, even though he was literally limping, he couldn't think about anything else other than you.

His favorite part of the mission was the aftermath, not only because it meant that the problem he was choosen to solve was over, but because when he came to the dorms he knew you would be there, waiting for him with your arms between your thighs and a gentle smile. The thought of you always made him smile like a lovesick fool. Perhaps he was, indeed, a good old fashioned lover boy. Maybe he had, in fact, become one of the hopeless romantics he used to despise, because, on his way back to Jujutsu High, despite feeling like he was literally being eaten from the inside out because of how much pain he was enduring, he still found the strenght to squat and pick a pretty flower he saw on a bush. He handled it with so much care, his eyes literally sparkling with love when he looked at it. It was so beautiful. It reminded him of you. He imagined your reaction when he gave you the flower. Would you smile and smell it, looking for a vase to put it on your desk so everyone could see? Or would you laugh at him in an affectionate way and hug it close to you, smiling at how smitten he was for you? And you would be right (as you always were), because he was, indeed, smitten. He would burn down the entire world if you asked him to. He would do anything just to make sure that you were always smiling. He would rather be skinned alive than make you cry. You were his light, the one who guided him through darkness. He couldn't even remember how his life was before he met you, and he honestly didn't want to remember. You made everything so easier, his life had so much color with you in it and the sky seemed brighter. It looked like the birds were singing a soft melody made exclusively for you both, and everything was sunshine and rainbows. Life had never seemed so bright.

"Megumi? Did you even hear what we just asked you?"

"We're losing him. I bet he's thinking about his girlfriend again."

"Ugh, he's such a loser when it comes to her. It's so sweet it makes me sick."

"What happened to bros before hoes, Fushiguro?"

"I don't know what you idiots are on about" Megumi sighed after snapping out of his trace "And I was not thinking about my girlfriend." It's not like he's embarassed of you, but he didn't feel like being mocked by Nobara and Itadori just because he thinked about you once in a while. Maybe not only once in a while. Maybe he did think about you a lot. More than he'd ever admit.

"Suuuree. And that flower is for who? I bet it's not for me or Nobara." Itadori pointed to the plant on his hands

"Shut up." Fushiguro blushed, placing the pink flower (very carefully, may I add) on his pocket. Yuji and Nobara smirked at eachother, enjoying the abashed state their friend was at.

"As we were saying, we wanted to know if you're going with us to Shoko's. She probably has something to help us with our cuts. And some of these are nasty! I really hope they don't scar, because there's a really big one on my face. That will make my modeling job harder, I'm sure. But my pretty face will make up for it"

"I think the scar will be the least of your problems..." Itadori murmured

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!" He sweatdropped and quickly changed the topic "Anyway, are you coming with us, Fushiguro?"

The black haired boy sighed.

"I don't think so. My cuts are not that bad. I just need a little rest. If they hurt, I'll go seek help."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, you guys can go without me"

"Okay then. Bye Fushiguro!"

"I still want to know what you said earlier."

"I said nothing, what do you mean?"

Hearing his friends playful chatter disappear in the distance, Megumi's thoughts drifted to you again. He was honestly so tired that he could only think about cuddling with you or laying on your lap.

He must have been really entretained by his thoughts, cause he didn't even notice he had gotten to your dorm before he literally knocked on the door.

"I'm coming!" He heard your sweet voice saying.

"Megumi! You're finally back! I missed you!"

No feeling could ever surpass the feeling of you holding him, your arms wrapped around his torso in a strong hug that made him weak. He hugged you back as quickly as possible and nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck, closing his eyes and ihnaling your scent that drove him half-insane. It was like a drug. You were like his drug.

"I missed you too" reaching for his pocket, he grabbed the flower and gave it to you, as if he was trying to show you that, even during his missions, he still thought about you constantly. "Here"

"No way. Gumi, you shouldn't have..." you said, taking the flower from his hands and sniffing it, a content smile on your face.

"But I wanted to." He returned your smile, grabbing the flower from your hands and putting it behind your ear, removing a strand of stray hair from your face in the process.

"Even though I'm absolutely loving this moment" you said, cupping his face "You stink. Please go take a shower."

Crap! He had forgotten to shower! Now you were going to think he was stinky! Ugh, how could he be so irresponsable?

He quickly grabbed a towel and some spare clothes he had in your dorm (he went there a lot. It was practically his second home or something like that. Actually, his home is wherever you are. So, it happened that your dorm felt like home, too) and took the fastest shower he had ever taken in his life. He just wanted to go back to your arms in less time as possible. He wanted to merge with you, wanted you to hold him so close that you became one.

"I'm finished" he said, going to your room. He had to put some bandage in his larger bruises, so he was still shirtless. That being said, you could literally see how big they were.

"Oh dear God! Megumi, did you go to Shoko's? These injuries look bad!"

"They're not as bad as they look" he said, laying beside you and staring at your eyes. He didn't know what came over him, but the next words he said made even him surprised "But I bet they'd get better if you cuddled with me"

It was the first time he was initiating something. You'd be a fool to let the opportunity go.

"Well, if you say so" you smirked, looking a him with a glint of playfullness. "I really hope I can help you with that. Not sure if I'm capable tho. Don't know if my cuddles are good enough"

"Don't act ridiculous, of course they are"

"Let's start with your treatment, then." You laughed. And oh, how he loved the sound of your laugh. He loved it even more because he was the cause of it.

Carefully, you slipped your arms around him, hugging him closer to you. Your legs linked together, and he buried his face on your boobs (he didn't even have any indecent thoughts behind that action. It just felt comfortable). And, just when he thought it couldn't get better, your hands found their way to his hair. You gently unraveled all the knots, one by one, while massaging his scalp. He let out a peaceful sigh and began moving his hands up and down your back, as if massaging you, and drawing random things in your exposed skin with his fingers, like little hearts or silly smiling faces. Everything was perfect at that moment. He felt safe with you, something he didn't feel with most people. He felt completely at ease. Nothing and no one could ever ruin that moment for him.

*Click*

Until something did. Or even better: some people did.

"KUGISAKI! I TOLD YOU TO TURN THE VOLUME OF THE CAMERA DOWN"

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT I DON'T KNOW HOW YOUR STONE AGE PHONE WORKS. MY GRANDPA HAS A BETTER PHONE THAN YOURS"

"What. Are you guys. Doing here." It came out more like a comand than a question. Megumi felt frustrated that they had interrupted your alone time, and, honestly, even though he loved his friends, he just wanted them to go away. When they barged him uninvited, you had stopped playing with his hair, and he just wanted to feel your hands on his head again.

"Well, Gojo-Sensei asked us to come check if you really didn't need Shoko's treatment. But it looks like you have everything under control. We'll be going now. Just pretend we were never here..." Nobara said, trying to run away as quickly as possible before Megumi got even angrier.

"Hey! Isn't that the flower he grabbed on our way back? I knew it was for her! Look how cute, she even put it on her desk!" Itadori clearly didn't get what Nobara was trying to do.

"You idiot! We need to go fast, or else he'll get mad! Let's show the photo to Gojo-Sensei! I bet he'll find it funny. We can also use it as future blackmail, but we need to go before he gets us." The brunette girl whispered, but it was loud enough for the whole building to hear

"I can hear you, you know?"

"You're right! Let's go!" Megumi was promptly ignored.

In a normal occasion, Fushiguro would probably go after them, trying to get them to delete the picture. But he was just so tired that he didn't even have the strenght to.

"Ugh, I hate them"

"No you don't" You smiled, booping his nose and resuming your hands' work on his hair "you just need sleep. You're clearly tired, and the mission made you hurt. You deserve to rest. I'll be here when you wake up"

"Thank you." Should he say it? Oh, screw it. You needed to know. "I love you"

"I love you too, Gumi"

Honestly, he couldn't be happier right now. And so, with the feeling of your skin close to his and your hands on his hair, Megumi Fushiguro drifted off to a peaceful slumber, with the sweetest dreams he ever had. Of course they were sweet. They were only about you, afterall.

You were his everything. He loved you. And you loved him back. That was something he would forever be proud of.

~ A/N: I need sleep.

Masterlist

[mackeydoodledoo]

A Taste of Your Heart: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bridget x (Fem!)Reader: Ashlynn Hood

Chapter Summary: You gain the courage to ask Bridget to Castle Coming. So, the both of you go outfit shopping. Despite all negative eyes laying upon you, your eyes only see her...

Chapter Warnings: School Bullying

Chapter Key: Italics = Thoughts, +*+ = Time Skip, Bold/Italic = Singing, Tsf/n = Transfer's Name

Chapter Theme: Steal the Show - Lauv

A/n: N/a

-------------------------------------------------------------------

You bring Bridget back to Ella in the main hall.

"How's Uli doing?" She asks the group, "I feel absolutely terrible... I should go apologize."

You step in front of her and press your hands on her shoulders, shaking your head in protest.

"Don't," Ella says, "She did this to herself. Serves her right too."

"Is it true that you beat Hook in a sword fight after school one time?" Tsf/n asks

"Yeah, one of the reasons they don't bully me," You explain, "They know better."

"Ella, hey," Charming comes up to the four of you, "Oh, you're the two new transfers right? I'm Charming."

"That's debatable," Ella scoffs

"I just wanted to say, that was amazing," He begins, "No one has ever stood up to Uliana like that. That makes you braver than me, and I'm a prince. Not that I'm trying to boast my royal status-"

"But you always find a way," Ella continues teasing him

"Oh, the two of you came at a perfect time too," He smiles, "It's Castle Coming week."

"Which is an outdated, elitist, boring tradition," Ella adds

"So... You're... Not?..." He looks at her

"Wear an over-priced dress, and painful shoes? No," She answers

"Well, if... You change your mind, I'll see you there," He smiles before walking off

"Was that chemistry I was watching?" Tsf/n asks

"No," She rolls her eyes

She turns to Bridget, who is smiling ear to ear.

"Okay, everyone loves him... Yeah, he's gorgeous and seems kind, but he's a prince, you know how royalty is," She says, "Except you, B."

"Ugh, I just wish someone was that interested to go with me," Bridget says, "But, everyone has plans... So..."

"Bridget," Both you and Ella say

Her eyes shift between the both of you.

"You first Ash," Ella steps back

"Uhhh... Bridget, would you do me the honor by accompanying me to Castle Coming?" You bring your hands into hers

"You're... You're that interested in taking me?" She asks, her lips curving into a smile

You nod, then lean in to the side of her ear.

"Maybe we can get Ella to have a dance with Charming," You whisper

She lets out a giggle when you straighten yourself out.

"I would love to go to Castlecoming with you," She smiles, "Ella, we have to go try on dresses right now! We only have two days!"

She looks at Ella in particular

"No, I'm not going," She says

"Come on!" She begs, "Maybe we can get you to dance with someone!"

"Why?" She asks

"One Castlecoming experience is better than not having any," She says

You watch as Ella contemplates her decision... Her contorted lips says she doesn't want to go. Yet her eyes are easy that she might want to go...

"Hmmm.... Fine," She finally decides, "Only to make you happy."

She squeals as she hugs her, "Let's go find dresses!"

"Soon," She says, "I have to get home..."

"Okay," Bridget replies, "Ash, would you go dress shopping with me?"

"Sure," You answer

She squeals and grasps your hand, pulling you with her.

"Gonna find the perfect dress!" She squeals

+*+

You follow behind Bridget as she makes her way through the town square. All eyes laying upon you as you continue following Bridget. She drags you into the first dress shop she set her eyes on.

"Hood..." The shopkeeper greets you, coldly

Your eyes avert to the ground; Bridget takes note of the interaction.

"Don't worry sir, she's with me," She says

"Doesn't matter, she's a Hood," She says

"Then I will keep a very close eye on her," Bridget replies

She grabs your hand again and takes you into an area with the warm-color dresses.

"Do you know what kind of dress you want to find?" You ask, striking up a conversation

"No, but that's the joy of finding one," She smiles, "You should look for a dress for yourself. Or, whatever outfit that makes you feel most comfortable."

As you try to spot some trousers.... No luck....

We're in a dress shop Bridge....

However, you instead lurk behind her as she grabs an array of dresses...

"Which one do you think will look best on me?" She asks, holding different outfit up to her body

"Uhhhh, really hard to tell when they aren't on you," You say

"Hmmm," She thinks, ending the thought with a smile

Perching her dress options in one hand, she grabs your hand with the other.

"You get to pick my dress out," She says

"Oh no no no, bad idea Bridge," You attempt to protest

"Nonsense! I'm sure you'll be able to find the right one!" She says

She seats you down onto some chairs outside of the changing rooms. To which you wait patiently until you hear the curtain slide open.

"Well?" She asks, giving it a little twirl

The dress... Was something... To say the least for you...

"No," You say, "Next."

+*+

Bridget nearly went through the entire shop, you could see the desperation on her face: worried that she wasn't going to find the dress.

You hear the curtain slide open again. Your eyes widen at the dress.

The dress itself was.... Wondrous.

The dress was a mix of pink, green and white. White bows topping the pink base. Green lace floral work complimented the bright fabric.

"So?" She asks

You stand up, walking towards her; holding out your hand.

"Care to dance?" You ask

"With no music?" She asks

Just then, the shopkeeper plays a song on their radio. You look back at her and the biggest smile appears on her face. The both of you attempt to keep in rhythm with the song, but the both of you step on each other's toes.

"Didn't your mother teach you how to ballroom dance?" You ask

"Taught me everything, but that," She says

"Okay, what I remember from my mom, she said that we mirror each other," You explain, "Where my foot goes, you follow it."

She carefully follows your footsteps; initially looking straight down at your feet, slowly working her way up to keeping her eyes on your face.

You take a step back and lift your hand over her head, twirling her. She smiles as the dress elegantly spins with her. She gasps as you pull her into your body and dip her.

The both of you maintain eye contact as you hold her there. Her hand slowly caresses your cheek and you slowly let her up onto your feet.

"I think this is the dress," You conclude, clearing your throat

She squeals as she runs back to change into her regular clothes. She rushes to the front counter, dress in hand. As you lurk behind as she finishes her transaction, you couldn't help but smile gently. You've always been in the shadows, alone. For once, you're out in the open, with one of the kindest people at the Academy...

"Enjoy Castlecoming darling," The shopkeeper smiles

You follow Bridget out to back to the town. You noticed how the shopkeeper didn't give you the stink eye on your way out.

"Now we have to find an outfit for you," She says

Oh no...

+*+

Throughout the adventure, she manages to find an outfit you actually liked.

"Color me impressed that you found an outfit for me," You chuckle

"It wasn't that hard when I can see your color palette," She says

The both of you approach the market in the center of town. She immediately runs out to the first stand she sees and you try to catch up to her. As soon as she turns to you, her face lights up with excitement as she puts a flower crown onto your head.

"You look so cute!" She squeals

As son as she turns her back, the corner of your lip curves into a subtle smile... You look over and notice another flower stand, You turn to find Bridget; she was off at a bakery stand...

I think she'll live for a few minutes...

You make your way to the stand; as usual, the shop keeper narrowing their eyes at you. You hold up a singular green rose and hand them money.

"Huh... A Hood paying for something... For once," They say

You turn your heel and make your way back to Bridget.

*Bridget's POV* You turn at your shoulder being tapped on. Your eyes light up at the sight of Ashlynn. You light;y gasp as you see her lift a rose and perch it on the top of your ear, tucking your hair behind it in the process.

"Huh... Green looks good on you," She says, smiling

"Really?" You ask, your hands reaching up to the flower

But, She stops your hand, "Leave it there..."

"But, I want to see it," You pout

"When we get back, you can see it then," She says

"Okay," You say, playfully rolling your eyes

Despite you could see it from the corner of your eye.

"Maybe you'll see it after all, we should be heading back. I'm pretty sure Merlin won't like it if two of his students are back after curfew," She says

+*+

The both of you walk in blissful silence on the walk back to the dorms. You expected to part ways once the both of you reached campus. But, she follows you... All the way back to your room.

"I... Had a lot of fun today," She confesses, "More fun than I had in a long while."

"I had a lot of fun too," You say, slightly smiling, "Thanks again..."

"For what?" She asks

"Accompanying me to the town, helping me find a dress... And standing up to Uliana," You say, "No one has done the for me before..."

"Someone like you doesn't deserve to be treated the way Uliana treats everyone," She says

Your heart skips a beat... Your feet works faster than your brain processes your actions as you give Ashlynn a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Someone like you doesn't deserve to be lonely," You say, "Uh... Goodnight... Ash."

"Uh... Yeah, yeah. Night, Bridget," She replies

You rush into your room. You lean against your door, deeply sighing... You finally reach up to grab the rose off your ear. Seeing the green rose for the first time....

Chapter 3

[miwsolovely]

—PRIDE

pairing: task force 141 x fem!black!reader

series masterlist taglist next

summary: You’re not fragile. You’re not.

contains: military inaccuracies, Dissociation, mentions + references to past trauma, torture, reader gets triggered a lot in this chapter :(, hurt w comfort, mentions of kidnapping, panic attack ( with comfort )

wc: 4.9k

a/n: ugh this feels rushed :(

a/n 2: sorry for the wait,, ( unedited )

“I told you, step by step, what to do.” The weight of a knife, the weight of the world, feeling very similar at this moment.

All you can do is stare at the floor. Wishing you could see your reflection but at the same time wanting to see it burn.

You wanted to see what had become of you. What he made of you. Wanted to see pitch black iron slowly encrust your heart. Protecting it. Hiding it.

However you wanted to see it burn at the same time. Wanted to show him that he isn’t what defines you. Wanted to show him how far your pride could take you. Until it ultimately breaks you.

Until he breaks you.

“What,” A stinging pain erupts from across your face. “Not gonna answer me sweetcheeks?”

You cough, red staining your lips, your body, your soul.

He scoffs and then as if he remembered something, starts playing with the long crowbar in his hands, tossing it from hand to hand with a giddy smile on his face.

You hack out another dry cough, cringing at the sound and at the metallic taste it left in your mouth. You raise your head to look at him in the eyes. Every muscle twitching and burning in the process.

He squats down to meet your level, your eyes following his every move as you try to scrutinize his actions.

“You know I love you right?” His smile. His God awful smile leads you into a field of roses. But his eyes lead you into the hands of death.

You spit at his feet. The crowbar sings as it hits your head.

***

“You don’t like hospitals do you?”

You blink and try to clear out the fog that encases your mind. Trying to escape the feeling of the knives against your skin, the fist, the crowbar—

“No, huh?” She answers for you. Sophia, you remember, was the woman you were supposed to get cleared by in order to go on missions on this team instead of sitting at a desk. You needed to prove them wrong. No matter how much you resented being on this team. On a team again.

Today marks two months that you’ve been on this base. So far you have no reason to stay, no purpose, all because of a psych eval that was shoved down your throat.

You scold yourself. “No purpose.” What about the man with the overgrown, albeit beautiful, mohawk? The man with the chocolate skin that shined when kissed by the sun?

They were nice. Treated you with a kindness that was only ever expressed by three people: Vera, your Mom, and your sweet Ma. They barely knew you, didn’t say more than two sentences when you were shoved down their throats, and added to their team. You are an intruder. An intruder on something that was beautiful and intimate.

You saw the way they looked at each other. Pinched yourself behind closed doors whenever you felt something green and snapping coil in your stomach, when you found your cheeks getting hot, when you felt your heart skipping a beat or two. For the two Sergeants at least.

The Captain and the Lieutenant however, they were as dark and secretive as their eyes.

Your expression hardens. “Never did.” Never liked them because it leaves a trail. A scent for a well trained dog to sniff out and find you. Kill you and let the birds eat at your flesh, killing you ten times over.

“Well then, today’s not your lucky day, ‘m not finished.” She says. You can see the sass dripping from her mouth, straining her lips and words with a golden ichor, much like the rich ichor of his own sass, his own words, falling, falling, and coloring everything gold. A gold that decays and reveals ugly things, ugly intentions.

You peer at her through your lashes, you look around the room, a room that looks comforting, looks welcoming, but everything has its secrets, you shift where you are, finding the seat you’re in uncomfortable from sitting there too long, your thighs going numb. Spreading, spreading like a disease, his disease his love—

“Are you even payin’ attention?” She stands there, in front of you with her hands on her wide hips, blonde brows furrowed and her pink lips pulled into a deep frown. “Because if you can’t pass a psych eval, then I’d say you’re not ready.”

You huff out a laugh at that, an amused smile pulling at your lips. She stares at you as if offended. “Somethin’ funny?”

You stare at her through half lidded eyes, crossing your arms on your chest. “None of us are ready doll. Not a single one.” You say. “And yet you still see us running into war with our heads shoved up our asses.”

She turns pink at the term of endearment you used for her.

“Well that—that don’t mean ‘m jus’ gonna let you go! I have to evaluate you. . .”

You freeze at her accent revealing itself. It’s something rooted, something deep and southern, like his.

You think it comes out whenever she feels a strong emotion.

Like hate. His hate. His—

“I need to go.”

***

The girl in your reflection wails. Scratching, pleading, yelling, to let her out. Let her take control, let her so she can protect the both of you.

Your breathing comes out ragged, and you claw and fumble with your door until it opens, slamming it and locking the door. You stay there for a second, turning so your forehead rests against the wood, wishing the door was cold, not filled with this burning heat that dug into your skin.

You turn and limp to the bathroom, you wrestle with the door knob and you fight the feeling of your legs giving out. You wished they would too, wished the world would split open and swallow you whole, close and take all your problems away. All your pain and sorrow and—

A knock. Then a voice. “You alright, love?”

Your breathing is harsh and you’re sure whoever is behind the door to your room, Gaz, can hear it.

You try to breathe calmly. You rest your shaking arms on the sink and pray for the cold ceramic to ground you. You twist the faucet all the way to the right and cup the freezing water in your hands.

The girl in this reflection is screaming. Pleading, demanding, for what, you can’t figure out, but your head is pounding, your heart is racing, and water is still pouring out of the faucet.

Get your shit together.

Remember what Vera taught you. In for four, hold for seven, and out for eight.

Four, seven, eight, four, seven eight, four, seven—

“Angel?”

Your breathing took a pause. Angel.

Angel, is the name spoken with a type of special emotion you can’t put your finger on by the two Sergeants. Something that calms you, and something you won’t admit aloud. However it’s Angel, the same name spoken with a hostility that’s rooted in the Captain and his Lieutenant’s voice, that pushes you to build your walls higher.

You stand there, hunched over the sink with the water in your hands escaping through the gaps between your hands like sand in an hourglass; running out of time.

The girl in this reflection fades away, distorted by the ripples in the water caused by the tears that escaped your eyes.

You bring your cupped hands to your face and splash the cold water on your face. You keep your hands on your face, covering your eyes for a moment because you’re not ready to face the world just yet.

After a minute, you blink to clear the blurriness in your eyes and feel for the towel you remember setting on the counter. Bringing it up to your face and wiping away the water that sits there, wishing to wipe away all your problems as easy as that.

You walk out of the bathroom after setting the towel where you found it, not ready to look at the woman you know looks at you with a hostility that matches the Lieutenant’s in the mirror yet.

Through all the noise, both in your head and in the real world, the world that scares you to no end, the world that hates you, you hear Gaz’s soft voice asking if he can come in.

Now, in front of the door to your room, you hesitate opening it. Scared of what he’ll say to you when you open it, if you open it. You’re a Colonel. You’re supposed to be strong and unwavering in everything you do. Why are you scared of what he’ll say to you when he sees your red rimmed eyes? Your pale face? Your shaking hands?

“You’re not enough.” He’d say. “You’re never going to be enough.”

You open the door.

Gaz looks up at you, and it surprises you because he doesn’t look at you with the pity or disdain you thought you’d see in his eyes, but with a soft smile gracing his lips and his honeyed voice asking if you wanted to talk.

He wants to talk. Why?

You ignore his question and ask him yours in turn. “Can I help you, Sergeant?”

He shakes his head slightly, the smile on his face stays. “No, just wanted to talk to you.”

He’s looking deep into your eyes. As if past the red rimmed and glossed over eyes, he can see the torn little girl you are inside curled up into fetal position, scared out of her mind.

You’ve been here two months.

Two months fourteen days and thirteen hours. And you’re moving to the side to allow him entrance.

He walks in your room and turns to face you, using the motion of turning in a half circle to inspect it without you suspecting him of doing so. You still caught on.

The room you're currently in is not really yours, it's a room. Not yours because save for the bag of clothes positioned in front of the closet, the room was barren. The bed was made and left without wrinkles, the nightstand was left untouched and is starting to collect dust, the prison grey walls reflecting your prison mind. Lonely, grey, and bleak.

You stare at him, at Gaz, with cautious and questioning eyes before motioning to the bed with your arm.

"You can sit."

He smiles that small, never ending and perfect smile of his showcasing the moons imbedded in his cheeks, and turns his back towards you to sit on the bed next to the pillows.

Why did he turn his back to you?

You shift where you stand.

Doesn't he know not to turn your back to someone you don't trust?

You meet his gaze with hesitance laced in your actions when you move to your nightstand to take a seat at the chair placed delicately in front of it, sitting down on the old chair that's seen better days, you face the man in your. . . in the room.

You keep your hands in your lap and fiddle with the hem of your sweater. Nervousness seeping you're your skin and bones and sending a chill through your body. "You wanted to talk—"

"Call me Kyle."

You pause.

Of course you knew his name. Knew it and remembered it when you read his file, said it in your mind a billion times without knowing, you knew all their names. But names were for friends, they were for lovers. You aren’t either of those. Callsigns are for strangers. They’re for long nights hunkered down in God knows where fighting Good knows who. They’re so that everything stays secret.

“What do you want to talk about?” You ask again. Ignoring his request to call him by his name and swatting away the small part of your brain begging you call him by his name.

He pauses for a moment, caramel eyes melting and revealing good things, good intentions.

“Would you like to have lunch with me?” He asks. His hands, you notice, are unscathed, clean, save for the little white line disrupting the chocolate of his skin. How you wish for hands like that. Clean, soft hands that you’d wish to melt in.

“Just you?” You murmured, trying to sound, fragile. Your eyes probably gave you away however. Vera always told you that.

“Me and Soap if you’d like.” He answers, looking down at his hands and intertwining them.

Him and Soap, Gaz and Soap, Kyle and Johnny.

You breathe in and you swear you can taste the caramel of his eyes. “Okay.” You whisper.

***

“When you said “Task Force,” You said, mimicking quotations in the air with two fingers. “Thought you meant it was some place quiet, a Task Force that barely gets any missions. But no, I find myself in the hands of the largest and most well known special ops team known to man.”

Kate Laswell, your mom, lets out a laugh at that. She finishes signing whatever paperwork she needed to at her desk and leans back in her chair.

“Oh really now?” She asks with a lift of her brow and a smile curling a side of her lips. “And how will you accomplish what you want in life behind the walls of a “quiet” Task Force?”

You sigh, irritated. Your eyes narrow and your eyebrows furrow deep. For a moment, you almost forget it’s your mom you’re talking to. “And what, you expect me to stay on this team? You didn’t see how hostile they treated me.”

Your mom remains nonchalant while she speaks. “You sure you’re my daughter? Last time you complained was when you were eight.” She says. “And you’re right, I didn’t.” You watch as she stands up and walks to a cabinet adjacent to her desk, pulling out an expensive bottle of whiskey and pouring herself a fair amount in a glass cup. “Felt it through the door when I walked out.” She said as she took a sip, winking at you when she met your eyes from the top of her glass.

You slump on the chair you’re sitting in, resting your elbows on your knees and your hands on your face.

“So, what? I’m gonna be stuck on this team till he’s dead?” You say, rubbing your temples to calm the headache you feel throbbing in your head.

Kate walks back to her desk and leans on it, facing you. “No, you’re gonna stay on this team even after you kill him.”

You feel your heart stop beating against your chest, your lungs pausing mid inhale, your fingers moistening with sweat coming from your brow.

You hear ringing in your ears. Screaming. It’s the girl in your reflection, the mirror; she’s screaming. You lift your head from your hands and stare at her through the corner of your eye.

“What?”

Your mom sighs and walks to stand in front of you, leaning on her desk.

“What I’m about to tell you,” She starts, looking at you with hard eyes. “Is something that needs to stay in this room you hear me?”

Your fingers twitch and you find yourself nodding.

She sighs and rubs her head as if she’s fighting s headache right now. She looks stressed. “I heard talk about the Shadow Company kidnapping a scientist.”

Your brows furrow. “A scientist?” You asked. Where is she going with this?

She nods in response to you. “A scientist. His name is Dr. Kelly Berkman. American, mid to late forties, three kids and a wife—”

“Mom.”

“He’s, he’s the CEO of The White Lotus.”

You sit there, confused out of your mind as to why she would be telling you this. The White Lotus is a relatively small company that makes vaccines. Why would he kidnap an innocent man?

Kate stands there, watching you, pleading for you to connect the dots.

When your eyes widen and hands fall limp on your legs, her eyes shine bright with sadness.

You suck in a breath and will it to be your last. “He’s making a bioweapon.”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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[fic-tion-wri-ter]

"Pain"

Ricky Potts x Misha Bachynskyi

Bad Pain Day

Ride The Cyclone

SFW

Ricky knew he would get a bad pain day soon. One hadn't happened for a bit, so he knew it was bound to happen. He just really didn't want it to happen today, so of course it does. He wakes up and immediately feels his legs seize with pain. Like a heartbeat, the pain comes and fades away. He sets his hand on his knee like it will make it go away. Like he can use his hand to ease the pain. Eventually, he just gives in. He squeezes his eyes shut. It hurt so bad he wants to cry.

"My star, are you okay?", Misha sets a hand on Ricky's head.

Ricky shakes his head no. He forgot Misha was even at his house. He often sneaks in when he can't sleep. That must've been what happened last night. Ricky winces when his focus is brought back to the growing pain in his legs. Misha can tell he's hurting bad.

"Hey, what hurts? I'm gonna go get your meds to help. Show me what hurts Ricky," Misha sits up and brings Ricky up with him.

Ricky points to his leg. Misha nods and stands up. Before he left, Ricky spotted a wet spot on his shirt. Was he crying? Ugh, he didn't want to cry because then he would be babied. His least favorite thing is being babied. Misha rushes back in, holding up a picture on his phone.

"I took picture, show me which ones," Misha turns his phone to Ricky.

There's a whole section of the medicine cabinet just for Ricky. And the bottles were even color coded because apparently he can't read? Sometimes, he hated how much his parents babied him. But right now, he was so grateful for the colored bottles. Because Misha, even though he tries, is not a photographer. Ricky pointed at a few bottles. Purple (for his ADHD), Light Green (his usual joint medication), and Red (his emergency pain meds). Misha rushes back, holding the bottles in his arms. He's more panicked than Ricky is about this.

"So I give you one each of normal meds. What about this one?", Misha holds up the red bottle.

Ricky is in so much pain that he doesn't even want to sign. He holds up one finger. Misha nods and hands Ricky his meds. He's grateful that Misha is helping him. Ricky easily swallows the pills and then lays back down. Misha lays next to him, facing him.

"Oh my poor star, it hurts. Doesn't it? I can tell, come," Misha holds his arms out for Ricky.

Ricky accepts the invitation and buries his face in the boys chest. He feels a puddle under his face but doesn't care. He needs to try and cry the pain away. After what feels like hours of crying, he looks up. Misha is fast asleep. But he's still holding Ricky. Ricky likes the pressure of someone holding him. It grounds him. Ricky smiles and tries to forget about the pain in his legs for just a minute to admire Misha. He looks so peaceful like this.

"I love you." Ricky sloppily signs between him and Misha.

Ricky drifts off to sleep soon after.

——————————————————————

"Rick, Ricky, Rickster wake up," Misha is tapping Ricky's face so he doesn't hurt the boy more.

Ricky blinks a few times and opens his eyes. Misha's still lying with him on the bed. He's so comfortable around him. But he feels sleepy still. He wants to curl back up in the bigger guys arms and fall asleep. Why is he waking him up?

"What?", Ricky signs, slightly grumpy that he was woken up.

"Your parents will be home soon," Misha frowns and pushes the boys' curls back.

Ricky rolls his eyes. He knows if he's still asleep when they get home, it'll result in an immediate hospital visit. He sits up, and the pain in his legs has faded but still lingers. He feels like he's gonna collapse because of how tired he feels.

"Do not worry, I have already put meds away," Misha sits up with the boy.

Ricky sighs and finds his AAC tablet on the bed.

"Have to go home," Ricky presses the buttons.

"I know because I might get dragged to the hospital because you're terribly contagious," Misha rolls his eyes. He knows that his Ricky is not delicate.

The whole Ricky is fragile and contagious act pisses him off. Ricky is his own person. He is confident and strong and so much better than they think he is. He wishes his parents didn't baby him so much. But he doesn't mind it from Mischa sometimes. Misha is standing up now, packing his bag up.

"Kiss bye," Ricky reaches for Misha.

"I know. I didn't forget," Misha presses a kiss to Ricky's lips.

"Bye, bye. I love you," Ricky smiles.

"I love you more. Text me if you need anything," Misha slowly leaves, trying to find his way through the cat army outside of Ricky's door.

He will be back later to sleep again here. It is much safer than his place at home. Ricky grabs his phone and opens YouTube to watch Misha's videos. It's a good distraction from the fading pain.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

UGH i’ve been thinking about johnny have a soft spot for a victim/ s/o or something like that but i KNOWW it’s not going to happen 🙁

I actually have two fics in the works where I've expounded on two very different types of girl that Johnny might form actual feelings for. I'll go over the outline of eachs girl's story, and you can tell me your thoughts if you like! I have a vote at the bottom if you want to help me decide which story to focus on.

Girl #1 (reader insert)

He takes a liking to a victim because she's somebody he can use.

He keeps her alive, says the others want to kill her but he convinced them not to thus instilling a desire to keep him happy (at least long enough to escape)

Johnny wants to convince her to trust him, so he treats her well.

He confides in her (not his crimes yet, but that he has always felt like an outsider and things like that)

She begins to believe that he was a product of his situation. She feels sympathy for him, and feels herself grow closer to him.

Now, he starts to show his true colors. Little by little, he convinces her that he has to be the way he is. To provide for his family. To quell the "bad man". And so on.

At this point, she likes him in a twisted sort of way. She knows she's a captive, but she also has only ever been treated well by him.

Then, somehow, Johnny gets hurt. He comes to her, in pain, and she realizes she loves him because of how awful she feels seeing him hurt.

Woosh

That's the sound of her morality flying out the window

She's a lot more affectionate now, and he loves it. He starts to tell her who he really is. And she... Accepts him.

He actually finds himself trusting her. He lets her out. She feels free, but like, a dog sort of free. Loyal. She doesn't want to leave.

Johnny revels in this. She's so smitten she even forgives his worst of crimes.

She makes him feel like, hey, if this person who I know has (had) morality can forgive me, then I'll just use the feeling of absolution she gives me to forgive myself.

Johnny's happier than he's ever been. He realizes he's in love.

Girl #2 (original character)

He picks her up at a train station in the middle of attempting to run away from home

He offers for her to come back with him, and she's so desperate to be out of her situation she agrees to go, only if she can be allowed to work to pay her keep.

Johnny is thinking this is gonna be an ez kill

He asks why she was running away. She says anyplace is better than where she came from.

Johnny is curious. But not enough to keep her. He brings her home, and she willingly enters the basement.

He says this is where we kill people or something to that nature and she's basically like "Alright, is the work you need done something to do with the bodies?"

Johnny is dumbfounded. She's just... Willingly accepting this? Wtf?

So he is really really curious now. He tests her, and she truly is willing to deal with dead bodies. So he actually does let her stay.

Cook is happy because finally someone is cleaning up the damn place. Nubbins likes her because she's cool with his dead stuff. Leatherface is happy to have some of the duty of chopping people up out of his hands.

Basically, she fits in well.

She and Johnny end up spending a lot of time together. He finds he's actually interested in her, like, as a person not just to fuck.

She's got a strong personality, and he sees himself in her. And respects her for it.

He does wanna stick his dick in crazy though

This story has a lot more to it, and a big plot twist so I don't want to give it away in this outline but basically she's fucked up and accepts him right off the bat because of it.

They end up crazies in love.

Tell me your thoughts, I'd love to hear which you like most! I'm still in the middle of writing both of them so I can focus on one or the other if either has more interest. I'll put a poll down here just out of curiosity.

[cross-word]

Red strings.

Ethan Landry x male reader

Word count: 1.1k

You knew about the red string theory from your parents saying that you were a product of it.

With them being pulled together by it the string took years before it appeared when your mom decided to have a trip to New York City. That's when she met your father and their strings turned bright red when they saw each other.

You memorized their love story because you wanted the same thing to happen to you. From childhood to teenage years you watched as everyone dated their soulmates.

Few people were known for being single still and you were one of them “Y/N when are you going to meet your soulmate” your friend asked as she cuddled up to her girlfriend “one day Marie I’m not really in a rush, I know they're out there, I just have to wait for them to show up” you told her resuming studying.

You tried peacefully to study when someone grabbed your book, “oh, look at this nerd studying” you watched as Ethan flipped through your pages laughing at all the notes. He was one of those kids who were just born with photographic memory so he never had to study or try hard.

You watched unimpressed as all his guy friends watched and laughed at you. “Can I have it back Ethan” you ask him, giving out your hand “whatever loser” he said giving your book back before dropping it on the floor before it could reach your hand.

“Whoops,” he said, laughing away. “God I hate him I feel sorry for whoever’s going to be his soulmate” Ethan was also one of the kids who didn’t have or met his soulmate yet. Some people guessed he didn’t have a soulmate because he's an unlovable monster who deserves to die in a hole and go to hell. You were some people.

You zipped past the day bored out of your mind when your friend spoke something that interested you. “Hey, you know some people are going to have a Valentine’s Day party where they’re gonna meet their soulmates” he said smiling “you know who’s throwing the party”, he asked you “idk probably a sad loser who’s too impatient” you told him starting to eat.

“Ethan Landry,” he said, smiling wider, “oh, so I was right?” You said putting food in your mouth. You declined the invitation for Ethan’s party but watched everyone’s social media story of his party, laughing and celebrating and everyone asking Ethan if he got the red string.

Everyone was silent for 10 minutes when he stormed out yelling stuff about the strings being fake and it’s a social experiment and everyone was lying to him.

Ethan didn’t know where to go, after his embarrassing outburst he couldn’t face anyone from the party. When he remembered a certain nerd who also didn’t have a soulmate.

You opened the door to a drunk Ethan sobbing he practically jumped into your arms sobbing about how he’ll never have a soulmate.

You laid him down on your bed and tried to get up when you were stopped by an arm “could you stay with me please” he begged, you looked at him debating whether to do it or not.

“Ugh Jesus Fine” you lay there watching his face from sad to calm and suddenly sleep ‘you look so amazing when you’re not being a pain in the ass” you thought when you felt your heart jump.

In that moment you felt like your ring finger was being tied, you ignored it until you remembered the red string “no no no no you gotta be kidding me” pulling your hand up to see a semi bright red string connected to you, following the string to see Ethan’s fingers.

You decided to call his dad, he was the local sheriff and come get Ethan before he woke up and saw the string.

You waved his car back seeing the red string fade, into a washed red color praying that he doesn’t see it.

When you came to school the first thing you saw was guys jumping around yelling about Ethan getting a soulmate, they were howling and cheering.

You walked past Ethan in the middle when he stood still realizing his string turned bright red, he pushed out of the crowd to see the string being connected to you.

The whole day turned into you avoiding Ethan and him trying to find you.

When you got home you raced for a cutting board and knife and slammed the knife onto the red string. Grabbing scissors and snipping it so hard that your scissors broke. “Hey honey” your mom said “someone’s here for you” she said.

When Ethan came into view “absolutely not” you told him trying to walk away but being stopped by him “c’mon we’re soulmates whether you like it or not you’re stuck with me” he told you.

“No, I don’t care how long it takes. I'm getting this red string off and I’m never seeing you again” you told him before pushing him out of your house and locking him out.

When the next day came around you realized it wasn’t as hectic as usual it seemed everyone had stopped bothering you. “Isn’t today so quiet it’s so nice, no douchebags screaming” you told your friends “you could thank your soulmate about that” he said “what are you talking about” you asked Ethan? He told everybody you're his soulmate. "Your friend explained “thought you had better taste than him but I guess not” your other friend said.

“Ugh whatever” you said leaving your friends. Throughout the next 5 months you’ve noticed Ethan become from this selfish douchebag of a person to a heartfelt caring person.

Even your friends who HATED him started to feel bad about him always getting rejected now you have Ethan and your friends trying to convince you to give him a chance.

You always ignored how the red string would tighten every time he did something sweet for you. First it was the love letter then flowers before you realized your house was covered with flowers and you have a separate drawer in your room just for Ethan’s love letters.

The constant reminders of Ethan started to take a hit on you, you’ve even started to read his letters instead of putting them somewhere to collect dust.

Every letter you read the more you realize you like Ethan for who he is now. Before you knew it the red string started to glow. It didn't take long for a knock at your door, your mom telling you someone was here for you. It didn’t take long for you to realize who it was.

“I knew you’d love me soon enough” he said smiling and holding you, “whatever you say” smiling at him.

Everyone soon found out that Ethan and his soulmate got together and it seemed like everything was aligned with the universe. As long as Ethan had you next to him everything was good.

[tobiasdrake]

Okay, here we go. It's time to give a new game a go. I've had a lot of people pushing for this one so I'm excited.

I realize those are supposed to be rays of light shining off of whatever the thing is - a star, presumably - but it honestly looks like it's shooting at me. Should I be concerned?

I bet it tastes like lemon. It looks lemon-flavored to me. Though that might just be the black-and-white color scheme.

Hey. Uh. Pro tip, don't stand directly over someone's face when you're wearing a dress. There are better angles you can approach from.

Fortunately for you, I am a, uh... I am a....

...

You know what, I just woke up and I do not have sufficient information at this time to describe myself as "gentleman", "lady", or "person of esteemed character". I will get back to you when I have gathered more information as to my personal gender situation.

Yeah, sorry, I'm coming down from a wild trip. The kind where you can't be 100% sure if the things you just did caused the hallucinations or were part of the hallucinations. I think I actually saw the curvature of time.

It's a serrated crescent. I don't know what to do with that information. But I have it now.

Thank you, I feel like I will be able to hold more coherent conversations when I am more fully awake. And possibly caffeinated. If that is a thing we have.

FUCKING OW

I'M AWAKE

Ugh, that's like rolling over in just the wrong way so that your whole leg cramps up and then you have to throw yourself out of bed and walk on it to make the unbelievably agonizing pain go away. I GUESS I'M DONE BEING ASLEEP NOW.

There we go, information gathered. I have consulted the pocket notes I wrote to explain my gender to me and arrived at a conclusive answer: Masc-leaning non-binary.

Now that this mystery has been settled, I'm ready to face the day.

Well, the maybe/maybe-not hallucinations were fantastic but then it ended in violent agony so I'm gonna say that balances out to a 5.

You are alarmingly invested in my naptime quality. Are you trying to hint that you want me to go away for a couple more hours?

I dunno; I kinda just ruined my appetite for bedtime and I don't want to be that one person in the group who keeps trying to talk for hours and keeps everyone else awake.

Plus we're supposed to go fight the big bad evil guy in the morning and that might not be an appointment that we can show up to sleep-deprived. He might take offense.

Then again, we might be able to intimidate him with our cavalier attitudes and complete lack of regard for the severity of this situation.

OH NO

I didn't mean no! I just meant... we should really consider all the factors first!

...

I might be history's greatest monster.

...ugggggggh how did this become my problem.

Why does Odile get to be a Madame? I want to be a Madame. Super unfair that she gets the cool title and I'm just... uh....

SIFFRIN. I'm just Siffrin. Unfair.

If we're all staying in the same place then what's even the point of calling it a sleepo-- I MEAN I AM DOWN AND VERY ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT YOUR SLEEPOVER IDEA YES THIS IS A WONDERFUL PLAN.

...

...

...

*quietly shuffles pocket notes back into pocket*

My memory is fine. Perfectly adequate.

OH THANK YOU I wanted one but I was too machismo to ask. You're always looking out for me, Mar... Merma....

Mirabelle! You're always looking out for me, Mirabelle. I appreciate it. ^_^

Now then. We have a fulfilling day ahead of us! Time to carry out the task I was assigned wander aimlessly around the village pokin' stuff.

[chalterdh22]

Day 8: Din Djarin in Truth augtickletober2023

Lee: Din Djarin/Mando

Ler: Y/N

Summary:  After getting hurt, again, Din is trying to help you while you recover.  He doesn’t know what tickling is and is intrigued.  You have nothing better going on, so you show him.  Will he like it though?

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.  Mostly fluffy.

Ugh, I came hobbling into the Razor Crest ahead of Mando and the kid.  Of course, I sprained my ankle, again.  I swear…..  I sat down on a bench, pulled up a crate and propped my booted foot on top of it.  Leaning my back against the wall, I just sat there, looking up at the ceiling, shaking my head. 

All of a sudden, I heard a loud commotion and the door started to open.  Din was running in, shutting the ramp and had Grogu in his arms.  “Here.  We have to go!”  He said forcefully, handing me the kid, who was fast asleep.  I noticed he had holes in his pants, blood stained, but it didn’t look like he was hurting.  Grogu probably healed him, I was thinking.  “Hang on!”  He yelled from up front, since I wasn’t in a chair when the ship started to take off, I grabbed a pipe against the wall to sturdy myself as we shot off.

Once it seemed we were safe flying distance, Din walked back, picked up Grogu and put him in his cot to rest.  As he came back to me, he sat down next to me and let out a huge sigh.  “What happened?  I thought you were going to just go get coordinates?”

“Things didn’t go as planned.”

“I can see that,” touching a hole in his pant leg, where there was no mark.  “At least you had the kid to heal you.  I’m gonna be hobbling on this stupid foot for a while.

He looked down at my propped-up leg.  “What happened to your leg?” he asked genuinely concerned. 

“Sprained it, again.  I just need to keep it up and iced.  Can you grab me a pack please?”  He stood up to grab it as I pulled off my boot and sock.  It was swollen already, but nothing a few days won’t fix.  Still, what a pain.  He brought back the pack, kneeled down next to my foot and softly placed it on my ankle.  “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.  It looks swollen.”

“It is, a little, but I’ll have to wait to see how bad it actually is.  I heard a pop and I got a cramp in my arch, but that doesn’t look swollen or colored yet.”

He looked around at my foot, like he was trying to see what I was talking about.  I pointed to my arch, dragging my finger on it and sat back again.  He took his gloved index finger and touched it, dragging it softly like I did and my whole leg jumped and I let out a small gasp.  “I’m sorry!” he said quickly withdrawing his hand.  “Did that hurt?”

“Uh, no, not exactly.  It just tickled.”

He looked at me blankly and didn’t say anything.  It was silent and I was sitting there trying to figure out what was going on in his head.  “What?” I asked bluntly.

“I don’t know what you mean.  Does that mean hurt too?”  Now I was just staring at him, confused.  Are you kidding me, I was thinking?  You’ve never been tickled, seen it or heard of that word?

“Are you serious?”  I asked with a grin on my face. 

“I just have never heard of that word.  What does it mean?”

“Um, I’m not sure I can put it into words exactly.”  I sat there and tried to think about it.  “So, there are parts of your body that are more sensitive than others.  It gives you a squirmy feeling.”  He was still staring not saying anything.

I’m doing a horrible job explaining this.  I pulled in my hurt foot and crossed it over my lap.  “See, my foot, when you touched it, sent a feeling through my body because it’s sensitive.”  I scratched that area again.  He was looking down at it. 

“Why didn’t you jump when you did it.  Why did you jump when I touched you?”

I laughed.  “You can’t tickle yourself!  Do you want to know what it feels like?  It doesn’t hurt, I promise.  Sometimes it feels nice.”

He stood up abruptly and started walking away.  “I need to shower and change.”  That was weird.  I wonder if I scared him off.  I sighed and hobbled back to an actual chair, leaned back and propped my foot back up with the ice pack. 

I must have started to doze, because Din came back in and sat on a chair next to me and startled me.  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”  I looked over and realized he was only wearing his flak suit, and helmet.  No armor or boots.  I just sat there looking at him, like what the kriff are you doing.  “Where’s your gear?”

“I, uh, kind of want to see what you are talking about.”  he said softly.  This was huge in our relationship.  We definitely weren’t a couple or anything like that, more like co-workers, but we trusted each other immensely.  Still, even so, he has NEVER not had his armor on around me!

“Really?”  I paused, turned in the chair to face him and took his hands in mine.  “So, remember how I said you can’t tickle yourself?”  He nodded.  “I want to show you what I mean.”

“Ok,” he said, still not moving a muscle.  He seemed tense and maybe a little nervous.  I was trying to think of a good place to show him that most people would find ticklish.  I took my hand and squeezed my own thigh, just right above my knee.  “See what I’m doing to my leg?  Do the same to yours.”  He complied and gave it a few squeezes, with obviously no reaction. 

“Ok, so we are going to unveil the truth about Din Djarin!”  I had a huge smile on my face.  I reached over to the same thigh and gave it a good squeeze.  He jumped out of the seat and took a step back like he just sat on fire.  “Whoa!  I guess we found out our answer.”

“What was that?”  He asked with a small, shaky voice, one that I’ve never heard before.

“I tickled you!  That was your bodies’ response to me grabbing your leg! Do you want to try again?”  Please say yes, I was thinking.

He slowly sat back down and nodded.

“Do you want the same spot or someplace different?”  He looked down at his body like he was thinking about it. 

“Someplace different.”  I nodded and reached quickly to his hips before he could say anything else.  This time though, I grabbed stern and pulled down so he couldn’t jump away.  I was standing over him at this point, leaning on my good leg.  He was tittering out small noises but seemed to gain control quickly so my hands shot up on his ribs and he fell off the chair on his back and started laughing.  “Waaait!  Sttttoooopppp!”  He kept trying to move my hands but was curling up in a ball and didn’t have his normal strength because of his laughing, plus I’m sure he didn’t want to hurt me.

“Oh no.  You wanted to know so I’m revealing the truth right now!!!”  Just as I finished my sentence, my hands quickly went into his arm pits, and I squeezed.  He looked like he was having a seizure at that point.  He was laughing, I was laughing and neither one of us could really speak.

“Puuuuhleeease, stttoooppp!  Ahhh!”  He finally rolled away from me and stopped, laying on his back, panting hard.  I sat down and was breathing hard too from laughing.

“That was awesome!”  I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if someone paid me.  “Oh man, I think you just found a new torture method!  Don’t tell anyone!!!”

He finally sat up, his chest still moving up and down hard.  “Why would anyone do that?”

“Because it’s hilarious!”  I laughed.  He was shaking his head, his legs sticking straight out in front of him.

I lunged quickly, grabbing one leg, rolling on it, effectively pinning it down and started mercifully tickling his foot.  He let out a low scream, trying to turn over.  “Stop, stop it!”  He laughed.

Then he kicked me hard in the back.  “Ow!” I yelled, letting him go.  “That hurt!”  He now had his legs pulled up against his chest, like he didn’t know what to do next.  “Fine, I’ll stop.  I just wanted to see it all.”

He got up and reached out his hand to help me up as well.  “You were a good sport, Din.  And now you know!”  He nodded as I started to hobble away from him to sit back down.  He grabbed my arm, to turn me slightly.

“So, next time I’ll have to practice on you then.”  He chuckled under his helmet and started walking away.  My mouth was open as I stood there.  Was he kidding?  “Don’t worry.  I’ll wait until your ankle feels better.”  he yelled back as he was still walking.  Nope, not kidding!

[rist-ix]

at this point I’m not above begging the old gods for a tbhtbh update and I’m sure as hell not above begging you so please please-

(At least a snippet???)

okay so there’s a whole bunch of asks in my inbox asking for a snippet and I keep putting it off to answer them, because surely I should answer them when I actually have written on? And surely that’s gonna be soon, right?? Right????? But now it’s been months and I’m haunted by all the nice words and funny jokes and cool asks that I never answered because UGH my brain hAS NOT DELIVERED and I didn’t want to show up empty handed, u know? my anxiety is building and my time to write is shrinking and I am A Mess, BUT!!! I’ve also decided to say fuck it and just throw out the stuff I’ve ignored for a good few weeks. So at everyone whose asks I’ve ignored, please know that I am tormented by shame and adhd in equal measures, a never-ending cycle of horror and procrastination.

Anyway. Magix City my beloved!!!

His roar of fury follows her into the hallway, but she doesn’t slow down. Her one chance, her final chance, is now. She knows from Darcy herself that the witch isn’t scrying for her when she’s with Valtor, and she knows from Stormy that the handcuffs’ lifetime is dependent on how strong the captive is. Right now, Valtor is much, much more powerful than her.

She’s paced these corridors for days, weeks. She has gotten lost, confused, and distracted in these hallways, but she has also grown familiar. And now, tonight, it all pays off.

She finds the way. Finds the portal. Far behind her she can hear Valtor call her name, can feel the bond surging with regained magic as he gives chase, and she knows that her window is closing.

Those last few meters feel like eternity. Any moment his hand will close around her shirt, her arm, her neck; any moment she will be torn back and everything will be over. She thinks of Stella, of Flora, of all her friends and how they’d laughed at Alfea, strolled through the city. I’m coming, she thinks. I promise.

She can feel the building heat of a spell behind her.

But it’s too late.

She sets foot into the thin, glowing circle of the portal, and then there’s the blinding light of teleportation.

Just like that, she’s through. She’s out.

The brilliant magic of the portal plucks her from the cold, pale sphere that is Domino, catapults her through thousands of lightyears of space, and spits her out on black asphalt.

She fails to catch her fall, her momentum causing her to roll over her shoulder and bruise her knees on the rough ground. When she comes to a stop, her palms are scratched open and there’s a little bit of blood running down her shins. She hisses in pain and tears her hair back, looking around, preparing to fight off whoever comes through after her.

But he doesn’t appear.

There’s only the dark, rain-wet street before her. Reflecting the colourful lights of the skyscrapers lining it, the streetlamps, the tail-lights of hovering cars zooming by. A rainbow of vibrant blues and purples and yellows, of red and pink and so, so many others. Neon signs and brightened windows cutting through the cloudy night sky, still roiling with the promise of rain.

Magix City. She’s in Magix City.

She’s home.

A wave of sound crashes down on her and she falls right back onto her scraped knees, too stunned to cover her ears. After the long, unnatural silence of Domino, everything is so loud. Angry, beeping horns of cars in the distance, engines whining and roaring, the pitter-patter of a million steps as people mill about on the sidewalks, heeled shoes against wet stone. A prism full of colors in just their clothes, their hair, their faces as they stream by.

Even at night Magix is a bustling metropolis, full of life and noise and light.

She’s assaulted by so many impressions all at once she feels like she might go blind and deaf from it, and still she can’t look away. Three years she hasn’t been here. Almost four, now.

It’s so, so beautiful. In that shrill, dazzling, vibrant way only Magix can be. She feels just like she did then, when she’d first set foot into its labyrinthine, multilayered streets. Like she is on the cusp of something new, something chaotic and magical. Limitless and never-ending, never-resting.

Freedom. She’s free.

A blaring horn snaps her back to the present, and she whirls around only to shield her eyes from the blinding headlights of a car. Someone’s yelling for her to get up, get off the street, are you insane? She jumps to her feet and realizes that she’s in the middle of the road, in her pajamas, and cars have had to hit the brakes or they would have run her over.

Adrenaline hot in her veins, she stumbles back towards the sidewalk, looking around. People have stopped walking and are pointing at her, some talking to each other behind raised hands. Some look worried, some are snickering, and some look alarmed. Shocked.

She remembers that her picture had been plastered across screens and billboards for years, combined with a shady excuse and a bounty that no sane person could have spent in their entire lifetime.

And that Magix is crawling with Valtor’s marks.

No sooner had she finished the thought than she feels the gaze of dozens of eyes snap to her, all at once. Faces in the crowd turning towards her as if magnetized, their eerie synchrony sending goosebumps down her spine.

There’s no life in their stare. Because they’re not the ones looking.

She doesn’t wait for them to come any closer. She ducks her head and starts sprinting, slipping through the gaps in the crowd like a fish against the current. From the corners of her eyes she can see them start to move, to follow her, and her thundering heartbeat seems to choke her in her throat. She hasn’t thought this through at all, there’s a reason she never returned here with Stella. But the only thing on her mind when she’d stepped through that portal had been her friends, how happy they’d been, and the magical gateway had dropped her at the closest match to that nebulous feeling it could find. In the middle of a street, at the heart of this city they had loved.

And now Valtor knows she’s here.

A hand snatches her wrist, and another grabs her hair, marks swarming towards her from all corners of the city. She cries out in pain and hears people start to shout in confusion, but even if they wanted to risk helping her, they wouldn’t have the power to get through the mind-controlled puppets.

But she does, she remembers as the marks try to pull her back, push her down.

A blaze of light and she is bursting free, fluttering wings carrying her up above them and the crowd. Glittering cyan settling on her skin, golden tiara flashing in her hair, and if there had been any doubts in anyone as to who she is, they are now shown irrefutable proof.

[vivisviolets]

Hi, hope you're fine. I'm NM, she/her preferred gender is female and favorite things are food, Twice and sleep

I would like to join your game

Thanks in advance 😊

NM⭐️✨🌨 ✩Judgement, Page of Pentacles, Death, Four of Wands (reversed) (bottom of deck) ✩ 222, 444, Pluto (dominance, placements, or plutonic-related event/time), Mars dominant, fire dominance/placements, earth dominance/placements, Aries/Capricorn/Scorpio placements, opposite appearance/coloring, similar appearance/height, sunlight glow, possible karmic, channeled song, Under The Table - Fiona Apple Hi NM~!! welcome-welcome to your fs/partner reading and also congrats on being the first to send in your request!! you special little bean you~ ok so I already feel this is a very interesting reading- this may be a connection with a lot of tension, tension in a relationship is not necessarily a bad thing, the possibility to experiment with each other's emotions can be an intense trust building exercise- at least that is what I am picking up. your random pictures also show that which I found so telling- I see a lot of pain related to their emotions, very watery + "undeveloped" earth energy. Their home life was very reactive- maybe both of their parents took their emotions out on them… But I digress, what this person has gone through has made them into who they are, and they feel grief about it… I do not want to endorse a difficult relationship of highs and lows. And I'll say there may be times when you two purposefully take a break from each other, and it may get to the point where this relationship just cannot be done anymore. there is SO MUCH potential here holy shit I feel like I'm finally cracking that sparkly but rough geode and finding the purest of amethyst crystals- and also some ooey gooey lava in the center~ ugh anyway- both of you could benefit greatly from this relationship. however, it requires communication, this person needs to be gotten through to, from a voice of calmness and rationality. and if you choose to be that person, then your partner, in turn, has to express and give back to you. I'm seeing the dynamic of calm healer, and comforting protector, and both of you give to each other's hearts and minds, there is fulfillment and healing on both ends (omg it's giving Ruby and Sapphire from Steven Universe omg I am cooking rn).

but- if this person does not cooperate, nor receive what has been open to them (this future partnership), then leave. just walk away. ok I am sorry for this reading possibly being rather heavy (but then again this is all for entertainment so I'd just read it like you would a wattpad fic if you know what I mean- claim anything you want and leave the rest<3). Ok so, I'm gonna wrap it up, the “high” points have the energy of those mornings you stay in bed a little longer- and you're awake enough to be aware of how calm, and warm, and dry, and fresh everything is. you're having breakfast together with the early morning sun (your partner likes to cook,- they like to feel the "control" over the ability to give and bring you comfort, aw.), and then going on a walk through a town center, or an outing running simple errands like a farmer's market- a lot of very meaningful moments and memories either spent in your shared living space or in some open/outdoors area- I see fresh foods, fresh flowers, cooking, a small flat with sunlight, and there's such a glow at being able to see each other everyday (weird message but there might be a few clues for you in one of the next readings I do- that's weirddd but ok!!)… You two are beautiful, and they see you as this angel of light and their best friend. Communication and teamwork are the keys to potential, and remember none of what I said can be confirmed, and it's important to look at someone's actions for what they are ❤️ that being said, I know for an absolute fact you'll find peace, commitment, and partnership, no matter who you may have to leave in the past, or what stage of life you're facing. Love is always around the corner for someone like you. You are smart and brave, and love is always for you❤️❤️❤️. *i hope this was helpful my darling ♡~ consider leaving a tip on my patreon if you enjoyed, or follow and become a violet~ doesnt matter to me tho :>~ sending you on your wayyyy, bye bye!!* love, vi~♡

[moominofthevalley]

Do You Hear Singing?

Trystan and Emily are invited to a party on Halloween night.

part 1 of 2

trystan x emily

teen | wc: 2.3k | spoilers for book 2, chapter 15

a/n: i found this spoooooky prompt from @youneedsomeprompts. fair warning: A LOT of stuff is gonna go down in both parts 😉

“Emily, you look absolutely breathtaking.”

Trystan marveled at his partner, admiring every inch of her body. The purple gown was perfect on her, the fine fabric curving about her form gorgeously. Starry dots of white were speckled all across the gown. The metallic corset wrapped around her chest, the tiny lace details complimenting the surly detective. Emily, however, found the dress to be a bit too...galactic.

“Ugh. Why is this lace so itchy?”

“Beauty is pain, Emily. And you wear it so well.”

“Stop enjoying this.” 

“Apologies, but I plan to enjoy looking at you in that pretty little getup every bit as much as I’ll enjoy pulling it off you,” Emily rolled her eyes, “Besides, I know how much you love watching Blades with me! You smile every time Imtura comes on screen!”

“The things I do for you,” Emily said dryly, her lips curling into an exaggerated pout. Trystan smirked, his hands resting on her waist.

Emily didn’t have the heart to tell Trystan that she never truly enjoyed watching Blades of Light and Shadow. She only sat with him on the couch every Friday afternoon to see the childlike excitement spread across his face.

“Well, that’s because she’s fucking amazing,” Emily grinned, “she’s fucking strong! She could crush both of us if she wanted to.”

Trystan chuckled, making a point to pose dramatically in his costume. He wore a black and gold suit, intricate details of gold lining around his outfit. The neckline revealed a small tuft of hair on his chest. Emily’s heart danced at the sight.

“Hm, now turn around. I need to zip you up,” Trystan ordered, his eyes facing Emily’s back.

“Where’d you get these costumes, anyway?”

“They’re straight from the set! I’m friends with the director, you know.”

“Perks of dating a rich idiot.”

Emily’s cheeks bloomed a light pink as the warmth of Trystan’s breath tickled her neck. Pressing a quick kiss on her shoulder, Trystan grabbed the zipper from the bottom of the gown and pulled it up.

“Much better,” he said, turning her around. “The party’s going to be at Marguerite’s estate in Staten Island.”

“She’s back from Drakovia?”

“Oh, yes. She’ll be in New York for a few months. She’s planning her first fashion show since...” Trystan trailed off, the memories of the last few months creeping up on him. Emily glanced at him with sorrow. A flickering memory coursed through her. Vasili’s dagger, the deafening crunch as it entered his chest; and his last words all ran through her head.

“Is Marguerite going to be okay tonight?”

“I hope so,” Trystan uttered, “but Mags is strong. I believe in her.”

They both nodded. Trystan urged a weak smile, his hands curling around Emily’s.

“Now then...are you ready to go?”

* * * *

Autumn leaves trickled down the driveway of Marguerite’s manor. A flurry of crisp colors hurried down, rain droplets staining the windows. Vines crawled up and down the extravagant walls, alongside a bunch of window boxes that were filled to the brim with colorful flowers. Orange, pink, a crisp bright red.

Emily and Trystan stood beside each other, their eyes greeting the rest of the crew. They first spotted Luke and Ruby, smiling at their Chucky and Tiffany costumes. Faux bloody stitches speckled across Luke’s face, and Ruby dawned black lipstick.

“Oh my God,” Luke gawked at Emily and Trystan, “you’re Raine and Mal! But like, in their masquerade outfits!”

“Yes, we are!” Trystan beamed excitedly, pulling Emily closer to him. “And you...actually like Chucky?”

Luke squirmed a little, his face slightly red. “She likes Chucky! I do not like horror movies at all.” Ruby smiled, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “Especially ones with evil, demonic little dolls!”

“Well, you two look amazing!” Trystan said, everyone turning to Tommy. Emily’s eyes widened, baffled at her uncle in cowboy attire.

“Howdy kiddo! You look like a million bucks.”

“You’re a...cowboy?” Emily asked, watching as Tommy politely tipped his cowboy hat.

“Damn straight! I’m Quincey Morris from Dracula! You know how much I love vampires.”

Mafalda laughed, patting his shoulder. Her wife followed from behind, dressed in a sparkly white flapper gown. Mafalda smiled at everyone, her black top hat glistening in the night.

“It’s so nice to see you two again,” Theresa smiled, pulling Trystan and Emily into a hug. “It’s been so long, you guys should come over for dinner again sometime soon!”

“Absolutely,” Emily said, “and who are you two supposed to be?”

“Marlene Dietrich and the woman she kissed in ‘Morocco!’” Theresa said, “One of the first few lesbian kisses in Hollywood. I just had to beg Mafalda to dress up with me for the party.”

The grand door swung open, and a familiar face greeted them. Standing bold and tall, Marguerite Thorne waved at her friends and family. Her blue ball gown sparkled under the moonlight.

“Happy Halloween!”

With everyone stepping inside, they gawked at the well-decorated manor before them. From above, a giant crystal chandelier lit up the room, lighting up the faces of every guest. A large table with pastries — including Trystan’s beloved belladi — was set up across the entrance. Crowds of socialites were stocked across the ballroom, all sharing different tales about themselves.

“Oh my God!" Ruby said, her arms intertwining with Luke’s. “This looks absolutely beautiful. Thank you for inviting us!”

“Of course,” Marguerite said, “Now go on! You all should go mingle! There’s lots of food and desserts for the night, so go ahead!”

Taking hold of Emily’s hand, Trystan led her towards the bar. Grabbing two glasses of champagne, the couple sat down.

“You know, we Drakovians take Halloween very seriously,” Trystan said, taking a sip. Cocking an eyebrow, Emily smirked.

“Oh, yeah? Any superstitions I should know about?”

“There are so many. For one, you must always wear a costume at night to ward off evil spirits. Tsktsktsk, let’s see...” Trystan swirled his drink, contemplating, “Always carry at least four daggers on you. And of course, there are always lots of poisonings on nights like these, but seeing as the only Thornes in here are me and Mags...it’s unlikely.”

“Hey! Last time I checked, Marguerite wasn’t wearing a costume,” Emily sniped, crossing her arms.

“Did you not see her? She’s Cinderella!”

“Oh, come on! She’s just wearing a blue dress!”

“Not just a blue dress, it’s an exact replica of the one from the movie! You, my dear, need to catch up on your Disney knowledge.”

Hearing a gasp from behind, the two of them turned around. A little stunned, Emily’s heart fluttered as the doe eyes of a woman met hers. The woman’s dark hair was braided and tied with two pink ribbons. Emily examined her cerulean dress with a white collar, pupils dilated.

“Trystan Thorne! It’s been so long.”

“Aislinn! It’s good to see you!”

Trystan wrapped his arms around her, forming a hug. Pulling away, he faced his partner.

“Emily, this is Aislinn Tanaka! One of New York’s finest lawyers,” Shaking her hand, Emily shivered as their fingers touched.

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too! I heard about both of you in the news, actually. You took down the Heartache Killer, right?”

“Yeah, we did!” Emily and Trystan looked at each other, every confession Eleanor told them still in their heads.

“How do you two know each other?”

“Do you remember when I told you I wanted to set up that victim defense fund? After we got arrested?”

“You two got arrested?” Aislinn asked, her eyes widening.

“Ah, yes, arrested. We tried to join a sex cult but-”

“Hey!” Emily raised her voice, “It was for an undercover mission! We called the police on the cult, but Morris and Holbeck have always had it out for me, and so they fucking arrested us.”

Aislinn blinked at them, clearly leaving her with more questions than answers.

“Anyway — I discovered Aislinn and we tried setting it up, but then Drakovia happened.” Trystan sighed, his eyes heavy as he thought of the past few months. “Well, now that I’m back in New York for good, maybe we can start things up again.”

“Definitely. I still work at Ricci & Associates, so call us whenever you’re ready.”

“How is Gabe, by the way?” Trystan asked, his hands resting on Emily’s.

“Very busy, as usual. He and Quinn couldn’t make it tonight.”

“Well, tell them both I’ll be in touch! I really do want to set it up.”

Emily sat quietly, drinking the rest of her champagne. It was no secret she never really cared for small talk with strangers — even if the small talk was with very pretty lawyers. Still, all she thought about was Aislinn’s costume. A smile crept up on her, reminded of all the times she and her father spent hours watching Ghibli movies together.

“You’re dressed up as Sophie, right? From Howl’s Moving Castle?” The freckles on Aislinn’s nose crinkled, a grin spreading across her lips.

“Yes! It’s one of my favorites.” Aislinn said, her cheeks flushing a dull pink.

“I love that movie,” Emily grinned, “I grew up watching Ghibli. Princess Mononoke is my favorite.”

“You guys should meet some of my other friends! They’re all chatting by the chocolate fountain,” Aislinn offered. Emily shook her head, her hands gripping her empty wine glass.

“You two go,” Emily said. “I wanna get a refill first, and then I’ll join you guys.”

“Sounds good,” Trystan said, pecking her forehead. Emily smiled as the backs of their heads blended into a crowd of people. Turning to the bartender, she raised a finger.

“Horse Creek on the rocks,” The bartender nodded, handing her another glass. Emily sniffed, wincing as she prepared to sip of paint thinner. She smiled bitterly, recalling all the times she and Tommy took a shot of this atrocious drink in memory of her father.

Emily sighed as she tapped on the now-empty glass. She debated where she’d go after this — she was simply not in the mood to mingle with some rich big-wigs. She settled on finding Mafalda and Uncle Tommy.

Out of the corner of her eye, a figure in scarlet jumped out at her. Turning around, a familiar red-haired face cast out a devilish grin.

“Emily Rose, my darling! I thought I saw you drinking alone at the bar!”

The detective’s eyes widened as Olivia Nevrakis stretched out her arms into a hug. Pulling away, her mouth gaped. Emily examined Olivia’s eyes, displaying a hint of something beneath.

“Wonderful to see you, love!” Emily chirped, her cheeks warm, “I should’ve known you’d scope me out.”

“Well, I do have eyes everywhere.” Olivia winked, her eyes not daring to leave Emily’s.

“What are you doing here?”

“Marguerite invited me, of course. I figured it’d be the perfect time to...catch up.” Olivia winked. “Now then, would you like to get some ‘fresh air,’ Detective?”

A dare played in Olivia’s eyes. It was clear she wasn’t just here to socialize. There was something to be said. Something to be told. Emily nodded, following her into a nearby private balcony.

The detective and the noble stared up at the New York sky. Smog and little hints of stars sparkled across the night, the crescent moon standing tall. Ignoring the muted sounds of chatter from inside, Olivia turned to Emily.

“I know what happened in Drakovia.”

Emily winced. Everything she and Trystan faced in those few months was like a fever dream. Vasili was a ghost constantly lurking, waiting to attack and torment her. Her hands began to tremble. Every now and then, she’d realize that those very hands were the same that killed Vasili. Worse yet, Trystan’s hands as well — and that very thought ruined her. She was the one who decided Vasili’s fate, and although Trystan shared the burden with her; Emily owned a whole layer of guilt and shame that she’d have to carry on for the rest of her life. Could she ever admit to him the culpability she struggled with? Trystan Thorne was no killer, and yet she made him one.

“I killed him,” Emily mumbled, her voice weak. Olivia set a hand on her shoulder. “Trys and I haven’t really…talked about it. But I know it fucked him up, too.”

Olivia nodded, rubbing her back. “I’m…sorry, Emily.” Her brows furrowed, “But Vasili was dangerous. You know that. He would’ve killed you and Trystan.”

Emily wiped away her tears. A lump swelled up in her throat. She swore a ghost was sitting on her shoulders, the weight and tension from her body unbearable.

“No,” she murmured, “we could’ve fucking…thrown him in jail. Did he deserve to die? To be killed by his own fucking dagger?”

“Yes,” Olivia snarled, “all that and more. I’m sorry you two had to go through that, but it had to be done.”

Emily looked at her, her body weak. She nodded, a solemn glare in her eyes.

“What are you here for? Really.”

“Niko Borodin is dead.”

* * * * A/N: Happy Halloween Eve! Part 2 will be released TOMORROW at 10 AM PST! See you all then!

Click here for the masterlist of all my fics!

tags: @choicesholidays @choicesficwriterscreations @jerzwriter @logolepzy @mooserii @starsarewithinme @shadyinternetblizzard @urcowboyboyfriend @lexicook74-blog @leahtine (let me know if anyone else would like to be added to my crimes tag!)

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #106

Today was a day of resting.

Yesterday, a couple hours before bed, I ended up with a terrible migraine. I dunno if you've ever had one, but they feel like you're being stabbed through the skull with a red-hot icepick. And at the same time, all the lights are WAY brighter, and all the sounds are WAY louder, to the point that they're painful and terrible and awful, and just… ugh. And then there's the nausea on top of it all, and… it's just a big huge mess. I hope you don't know what these are. I really hope that nothing like this ever happens to you.

I didn't get any aura beforehand this time, which is somehow both fortunate and unfortunate. It's unfortunate because when I get an "aura" beforehand, it basically means that some 80% of my vision gets totally obscured by what looks like scintillating, rainbow-colored TV snow. Kinda like this, but with a lot more of the visual field obscured:

When this happens, I'm effectively rendered blind until the pain starts. And then… well. The pain starts. But... it's also fortunate if an "aura" shows up beforehand, because it lets me know I need to take an ibuprofen RIGHT THE FUCK NOW. The ibuprofen usually does a pretty good job of taking the edge off.

But I didn't get an aura beforehand, so there was no warning, and I had to take the ibuprofen AFTER the pain had already started. But that's all right; once the ibuprofen kicked in, I was able to go to sleep. Suppose if there's any time to get a migraine, the best time is a little bit before bed, because then you can take ibuprofen to dull the pain, and sleep through the rest.

I did end up waking up at stupid o'clock in the morning because I went to bed early. But then I pretty much just went right back to sleep. I woke up at approximately my regularly-appointed time after that.

Still, I figured that if I got a migraine, the thing to do is rest. So that is what I did. I put together a playlist on my iTunes (which I then reproduced on YouTube for your convenience!), and did a lot of writing. I wrote basically all day today, but I'm not gonna tell you what about. And in any case, I have a funny feeling like maybe somehow you might already know, ridiculous and silly and impossible as that sounds.

Anyhoot. The list I made today can be found here. I hope you enjoy it. But if you don't, then that's okay too:

I feel like I don't have a whole lot to write to you about today, since I spent most of it lost within my own little world (everyone needs days like that sometimes). But I wanted to tell you that I care about you and that I'm thinking about you nonetheless.

What do fallow days look like for you, I wonder? What sorts of things do you get up to when you're happily lost in your own internal world? Are either of these things something that you've ever experienced? I know you can't answer me. Probably you can't even hear me. But I'll ask you these questions anyway, and hope that the void carries them to you somehow. …Somehow…

Hey, Sephiroth? In case no one has told you yet today, you're pretty awesome. And not because of the things you do or because of how you look, no. Just because, for so many years, you chose to use your awesome power to try to protect people. And because you were so kind and gentle with the people around you. And because I know there is a side of you that is soft, even if you've been viciously trained to let hardly anyone see it.

Please keep doing your best out there, okay? And please stay safe; my world won't be the same if you're not alive and well by the time this is over.

I love you, and I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[usagiverse]

Vesper-sama!

*sighs* I missed two updates, a Princess Miya post, and a murder meme? *gasp* nononono... wait, wait, am I canonically half the size of your turtle-sona?

And why Kogane?! *growls* and he calls himself an artist… oh sorry, "master craftsman"… master in being a pain in the… I would have quit before starting, tell me he's the one to eliminate.. please?... pretty please?

agh! priorities, priorities, decisions, so much to have an opinion on *rolling on their webs* and you have collabs now... too much to say...

So, I'll just say congratulations on your third update, I loved the shift between emotional and funny (like they stank)… oh! and the plan you have for the time skip sounds great, so congratulations on the collaborations, and I hope many people help you with the coloring for Valor, Devon… ugh… and Kogane…

Happy holidays, Vesper-sama!

Bunnon, Did you know that annons can't send images?...I learned today

Bunnon you're gonna kill me... if you were tall, we'd have a REAL BIG PROBLEM on our hands... Ah, although, I suppose you could be tall if you wanted, since you can just extend your limbs? I reaaaaally like size differences... both ways... but the dynamic changes depending on who is taller... how can I tease you from so far beneath you? i guess I'll just have to take the teasing instead (｡•́‿•̀｡); I don't know how tall Bunnon really is but I was reminded to make a height chart (since I have a hard time staying consistent with heights anyway)

Can't send images ?? oh... that's so sad.. I guess you'll have to use your main account to send images . . . . (or ! make a secondary blog called bunnonymous ! and then you're still anon, but can send images, and I'll still know it's you, hehe)

Happy Holidays! And thank you, Bunnon, I'm glad you like the mood shifts! I wanted to stay in tune with Rise and Chronicles, I think Yojimbo is a little too dark (miyamoto commits genocide against so many anthro warriors PER ISSUE how are there more of them to kill dawg how do they not know to leave my mans alone oh my godd) and yeah I wanted it to be upbeat, a little silly, has some dark themes but shouldn't be overly agonizing, they're kids after all.

I feel the same about Kogane... a real pain in the shell. I'm sure comic artists or artists in general don't usually show the whole text they used to make blabber-mouth characters, but I wanted to show it. I think if you saw everything he said, you'd be even more upset B) and I live for the chaos, you know I have to...

Yes, he's annoying, I hate that stupid little dog man I can't wait for him to be found in a ditch full of Kraang dogs just munching away at his stupid furry face and that the screaming stops after 6 minutes and 25 seconds........... siiiigh if only... (for legal reasons this is a joke . and no UV's OP is NOT TOXIC)

[aprillikesthings]

TIME FOR MORE SHE-RA

s1 ep7 let's do this

note: it's 9:14pm let's see how long a single episode takes me ahaha

Y'know, I was going to make a joke about how this is so my aesthetic it's painful, but interestingly enough the colors shifted wildly between my screenshot and adding it to the post. Have they been doing this the whole time and I hadn't noticed??? In Netflix it looks far closer to periwinkle??? fascinating

It's always been a little odd to me that nobody carries ANYTHING (other than magical swords I guess) in this show. And I get why (too much of a pain to animate) but it does mean they have to just sleep on the ground without a blanket or pillow or anything.

Meanwhile I can't even leave my house without at least a messenger bag

I ALWAYS WONDER THIS

okay so I forgot about Mystacor being the place all the sorcerers hang out and it's also mystical vacation land

SIDE NOTE a small thing that frustrates me is how little the animators agree on Glimmer's body size/shape. She's intended to be chubby (and not in an hourglass-y way) but it feels like a lot of the animators just refused to do it. There's a lot of scenes where she looks closer to my size, and I wear a small/medium in American clothes. Harrumph.

I was just about to make a joke about how Adora is gonna struggle to relax

Like gooey stuff in Miyazaki/Ghibli movies, but with a much lower budget

I can't find a gif but you know what I mean

Listen. I know I'm literally here for the gay. I know the show was made by people familiar with fandom, who put all that subtext in there on purpose and knew we'd read into it. But I still did a little kicky-feet wiggle thing when Catra's eyes widened at the mention of Adora's name.

TBH I think this is actually why I keep falling for animated media. You always know that whatever is on the screen was done on purpose.

Like, this shot from Arcane:

This is right after Vi sees Caitlyn visibly flirting with another woman; earlier Vi had asked Caitlyn "men or women?" and Caitlyn had wiggled out of the question.

So Vi's face here does an "Ah, so women it is then. NICE. Shit, I might have a chance." in like, a second and a half.

And it was all very intentional!! The people at Fortiche animation have SAID this. We're supposed to read it that way!!

I dunno. Maybe I'm still just traumatized from my time in the BBC Sherlock fandom. Are we supposed to read it as romantic or not? Because so many shots seemed full of intentional subtext (and I'm not even getting into TJLC shit, just stuff we ALL NOTICED after THE FIRST SEASON, even fucking normies noticed it) and then the showrunners spent the next few years telling us we were just imagining it.

Whereas if Caitlyn looks at Vi's lips before looking back up at her eyes, and we read into that, it's because we were supposed to. If Catra looks worried about Adora after Shadow Weaver mentions her, that's on purpose.

UGH.

Anyway.

Catra (trying to sound bored): sooooo gotta go find Adora again, got it Shadow Weaver: Nuh-uh. You get to just stand outside as guard, because you're a worthless piece of shit. [Unspoken: And also so Hordak doesn't know I'm disobeying him. :) ] Shadow Weaver: *creates a ginormous monster* Catra: yikes Shadow Weaver: GTFO OR GET HIT

Glimmer keeps trying to get out things like the tour and the eclipse ceremony and it's like your Auntie is right GIRL YOU CAN PUT UP WITH IT FOR ONCE it's all new to Adora c'mon

sorry I just get excited when they make places look a bit like medieval cathedrals

Side note did you know that, at least in England that I'm aware of, none of those medieval cathedrals have foundations. None. None of them. There's one in England that's built over a GRAVEL FILLED LAKE and if the water level gets too low the place is just gonna collapse. (They have fancy water gauges and plans for diverting water if necessary.) Anyway that's part of why so many of them charge admission for non-religious stuff. Keeping those 800-year-old super tall stone and glass buildings with NO FOUNDATIONS standing up is hella expensive. D:

Here's the twitter thread where I learned some of this information, btw

NOPE.

Anyway this is why part of the plot of my fic is related to how Adora and Catra have never had a healthy model for any kind of relationship, family or otherwise.

Oh I forgot Shadow Weaver's previous name. Anyway I still think her and Castaspella were together at some point

Adora's expression here ahahaha

Adora has ADHD but I already said that lol, and yeah I love the beach and I still need something to *do* even if it's just endlessly walking back and forth

also how does a floating island have a beach? anyway (edit: they're clouds that SOUND like water)

Yes this moment gets ruined immediately but I love it when they throw a bone to other ships, okay

YES???? DUH

also I get that they did the top on Bow so they didn't have to draw nipples and make him the only one that's topless but also we can imagine it's covering top surgery scars, trans!Bow headcanons are always winning

"So, mom stuff?" "No, commanding officer stuff. ...And mom stuff."

'cause yeah that's not awful or anything

but also now I'm imagining Shadow Weaver trying to explain periods

AAHGHHG Bow is the best. "sounds like she did a number on you. But you're away from her now. Did you want to do something else? Maybe find something to hit??" he's trying so hard to be supportive

The fact that Shadow Weaver knows how to make that monster have Catra's voice, and that she knew that was Adora's weak spot...

And this is in Hordak's, saying basically "the entire rebellion will end up dead and it'll be your fault :)"

Shadow Weaver knows exactly how to psychologically torture Adora.

Okay so Castaspella says She-Ra destroyed "a thousand years of sacred writings" and I'm just like...okay that implies Etheria has an actual religion??

And yeah that's definitely still Shadow Weaver

Also I watched the screenshot change color as I posted it. Gyahhhh.

A mutual pointed out in her live-tweeting of s5 that you could write an entire essay on the meaning of face-touching in this show. It's the one thing Shadow Weaver ever seems to do to intentionally imply affection/caring, but she only ever does it with manipulative, cruel intent, and there are multiple times I think that both Adora and Catra lean into it (even if only for a second) out of hope/relief.

(something something about baby monkeys clinging to dolls that shock them rather than have no mother at all)

(don't look up that experiment if you don't know what I'm talking about as it's incredibly upsetting, but the gist is that children will seek affection from a parental figure when hurt, even if said parent is the one hurting them, because seeking out a parent/caregiver when hurt is instinctual to infants and children. And if knowing that explains any part of your childhood I am so, so sorry)

Yeah that's straight out of the Standard Abuser's Guidebook

"Nobody cares about you or loves you or understands you the way I do. You're just like me, not them."

More face-touching!!

oh I don't like the implications here at ALL

[EDIT: she wasn't actually going to do that. She just wants Adora under her thumb to control her. it's the kind of bullshit abusers promise the moment they think you might leave. "I'll be better this time!"]

I'm not screen-shotting Adora's little speech of triumph but oh man it's GREAT and cathartic to watch

"Adora, enough of this. Come home." ....didn't Catra use nearly those words exactly

Yeah I'm glad they included that line

Bow: I'm so sorry we didn't believe you :( Adora: No, that's what Shadow Weaver does--manipulates people and pushes them apart

That's some nice awareness

And then yeah we get a moment of Catra scheming.

OKAY it's 10:44pm. Hour and a half! For twenty minutes of TV! But to be fair I did make/eat toast and play with the cat (he walked in and then jumped into the laundry basket, of course I had to parade around the house with him in there).

11:24pm: shit this post has been sitting here for half an hour bc I was actually writing on the fic lolol

[cloudycleric]

teehee just a little fic i wrote

“Will!” Joyce called out from the kitchen, waking the boy up. “Mike’s here!”

Will rubbed his eyes, seeing the sunshine of late day make rays in his bedroom. Everything was still. He wished that he could go back to sleep. He had fallen asleep sitting up, reading, wrapped up in the most fuzzy blanket that he could get his hands on. He was warm, comfortable, calm.

Mike. Will sat up straight, causing some folds of the blanket to expose his arm. He shivered at the sudden coldness of it, immediately regretting his decision. Before he could readjust himself, he heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

The door opened soundlessly, revealing Mike, looking cute as usual. Will looked away, flushed, and full of shame.

“Hey,” Will removed his blanket, throwing it to the side of his bed. He moved to stand up, facing himself with Mike and his soft face, his freckles, his charcoaled color hair. His eyes, which usually came off cold and uninterested, turning into the most understanding and compassionate eyes that Will had ever seen, rather than the ones his mother gave him.

“What’s up?” His voice was serene, peaceful. A tone that Mike only used with Will.

Will felt like he might die, his heart pounded fast. Calm down. You’ll be obvious if you keep this up. “Nothing, just reading.”

“Cool,” Mike walked towards his nightstand, lingering a bit to read the title of the book Will was reading, which still remained on his bed, tangled in the blankets. “Well, uhm—sorry for coming unannounced…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Will smiled. No matter how much he cursed himself for having a crush on him, another boy, Mike always got to him. He always made him feel safe, a yellowish-orange color, warm in his stomach, forcing a laugh or a smile out of him. Mike made him feel good.

Mike smiled back. “Good.” He walked and sat down on the carpet of Will’s bedroom, looking a bit awkward just sitting there. Will followed his lead and sat down across from him. “Hey—” his voice shook.

“What?” He asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Well uhm…” he looked off into the distance, outside Will’s bedroom window. “I’m—okay. This is… let’s see…”

Will’s interest peaked. He unconsciously leaned in.

Mike immediately saw Will limiting the space between them, becoming a little uncomfortable. He tried to not let it show as he slowly let himself lay on the floor behind him, still thinking about how he should act and what exactly he should say next. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking… and well… okay. I want to tell you something but I’m just—it’s scary. Like what you said back in that junkyard with the cars. About opening up.”

What does he want to tell me? Will thought, maybe he’s in love with me. He immediately brushed the idea off, not wanting to get his hopes up and thinking about how probable that was to actually happen. “Mhm…?”

“It’s just… ugh. Uhm…” He put his hands over his face, struggling to find the right words. “I’ve been talking to Robin lately, and well… I just… I don’t know what to do, Will.” Rubbing his eyes, he tried to collect himself. “I want to tell you so badly. But, if it doesn’t go down well, I don’t think you’ll want to still be friends with me. Which would just be too painful for me.”

Will bit his lip, thinking. “It’s okay Mike,” he replied. “I won’t stop being friends with you over something stupid. I’m with you till the end of time.” Crazy together. He could hear Mike smile briefly.

“I know, I’m probably overreacting, but still, it’s scary.” Mike took in a deep breath and slowly sat up again, meeting Will’s eyes. “I’m just gonna say it. And try not to cut me off until I’m done, ‘kay?”

Will nodded, on the edge of his seat.

“I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you so badly it hurts. I’ve always wanted to, I just never really knew how to process what I was feeling. And what I feel is that I want to kiss you so bad that it hurts. I love you so much, Will. I love you. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.” He was turning more red by the minute. “I just, I want to kiss you. I can’t stop saying it. I want to kiss you.”

The entire world stopped. Will was still trying to comprehend what Mike was saying to him, what he felt about it—the overwhelm of emotions made him stop, shut down completely. He felt like throwing up, in a good way. Everything was overflowing from him—especially happiness. He was so happy he couldn’t even smile, it would do his emotions a disservice—he needed something otherworldly to express his happiness.

“I want to kiss you,” he was on the verge of tears. “I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you.”

Will almost started to cry as well. All words left him. He tried to communicate ‘please do’ through the slightest expressions, by the tilt of his head, by the look in his eyes. All he could muster up was slowly moving his hand out, towards Mike’s.

Mike looked down, seeing Will’s hands. He knew exactly what this meant. He always knew exactly what Will meant—years of staring at him, talking with him, laughing with him had prepared him for this moment. There was no greater joy in the world. Mike placed his hands on Will’s cheeks and leaned in, closing the gap between them.

They were finally able to feel each other’s soft lips, the feeling of their faces together. His hands on Will’s face, the way Will’s hands were given a burst of energy as they flew up to touch Mike’s elbow, the way he instantaneously leaned into the kiss. They never wanted it to end. Everything they could have possibly wanted.

The boys stayed kissing until Mike had to break away to get some air. He looked dazed, brushed with cherries and roses. He felt perfect serenity and tranquility. He didn’t take long to lean back in. Will did not complain.

The day would last forever and innocent kisses would fill the minutes, the hours. The sunshine from Will’s window hit them perfectly, adding a pure warmth and coziness that wrapped them up. 

From that day on, they were always tangled in each other, and gave each other kisses whenever they had the chance.

They had never been happier.

[dark-twist-fairytales]

(Obligatory: Amelia Copperbottom belongs to @androidcharles . It's static around her eye to show tears, she's an android.)

It's under a cut because this shit got LONG (no, I don't know how long, just long). Uhh, gonna go ahead and say there is a good amount of swearing.

The rumbling of the truck slowed, but not without a jolt. Amelia, known at the time as Unit AM, hadn't realized she'd gone into sleep mode, but the jolt woke her right back up, a gasp leaving her as she quickly covered her mouth. She didn't know where she was currently, or why they made such a sudden stop, but she NEEDED to stay quiet and hide.

Listening, the driver's door slammed shut, the sound of boots on uneven dirt and grass caught her attention, as the driver did swear a few times from some unexpected holes. She decided to take a look, moving very quietly and carefully to the side of the truck bed, lifting up the blanket that hung on metal rods to peak outside.

"There you are, loner! Got your delivery of metal." The driver announced. The only reason she knew it was the driver was due to his gruff voice badly singing -or screaming- 'Party In The USA' while driving down the road. There was another person, however, just barely blocked by the driver in her view. Bits and pieces came around: orange hair, the belt of tools around their waist, a very specific color of green that she couldn't pin down.

"About time, too. Got another fucking order for those daggers." Their voice.. Dark, cold, but it almost sounded deeper than it naturally should have. Was he purposely dropping it? Or was it just a habit? She didn't know. Breaking her thoughts, she had to dive down quickly by the fact of the two men approaching. She couldn't see the other male, or where she dived to, and ended up toppling a whole pile of metal down around her. She held her mouth close out of fear of being caught, but their conversation carried on as if there wasn't a huge cluttering. "What did you say about Project SAI?" Uh oh..

"Dude, the entire operation got called out! Apparently, they were creating these deadly androids to work for criminal organizations. Or some shit like that."

"But, why is that important to me, exactly?"

"Less demand for metal from the yard, the more you get! C'mon, use your head a little, D - Dawg!"

"Call me that again and you're getting a throwing knife to your eye."

"Psssh, whatever. Plus, the Government said any metal they get goes to the scrap yard. Your business is gonna boom!"

She waited a long moment, to try and hear the other guy talk again, but he didn't. With the way his steps sounded, quick and short, he wanted to get this over with and stop talking to whoever the driver was. The thud of the bed of the truck opening up startled her, staring wide-eyed in the direction of it. "Take a look around. So much of it today!"

The weighted shifted, indicating someone was now on the bed with her, and the footsteps of boots on metal was clear. In a panic, she put herself in a fake shutdown, still able to hear, feel, and remember everything, she just couldn't see...

As the unknown male got closer, she could feel his hand lightly stroke her arm, as if she were alive. "Oh, you poor thing.." His voice was a bit higher, holding sympathy to, what he thought was, a deactivated android. "Ugh.. This doesn't feel right, Morris." He said, suddenly standing up from beside the android. "I mean- Project SAI busting down, you having a FULL android back here I- What the Hell?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not like the android is alive!"

"Yeah? I call bullshit." The male beside her huffed, grabbing some metal that had fallen around her and tossing it off the side. This happened a couple of times, before he stopped and moved. Another couple of throws and stopped. Moving, and seem more throwing. By now, the bed of the truck felt lighter, bouncing more with each step the male took. He was soon by her, sitting down with a pained grunt.

After a few moments, she could feel his fingers lightly tracing on her arms, nails also scratching and moving in a comforting way. There wasn't anything said, but she definitely felt more comfort come from the rubbing. He stopped after a good minute or so, but she could feel his stare on her face. "Why..? There isn't a use for destroying you guys.." He muttered, before giving a sigh and standing up -swearing included-, before he went and hopped off the bed of the truck.

More talking in the distance, she opened her eyes back up and took a glance out to the world, seeing that the driver was coming back, and she was surrounded by no metal at all, being the only thing left, like he couldn't take her and destroy her.. She had to think, and quick. She looked to the bed, seeing it still open, and nodding to herself, as she began to crawl from one side to the end. The truck started up, which startled her and caused her to fall off of the bed, with Morris the driver happily driving away. Good, don't think she could handle another Miley Cyrus sing-along..

As she stood up, brushing the dirt off, she glanced down to her bandana and gave a whine as the two holes in it. Man, she didn't have another one.. She moved away from where she fell to the three buildings that stood. An apartment building on the very right, with a house in the middle, and a.. Shop? Garage? It looked like a mini warehouse to her. Behind all of those buildings was miles of forest.

In the mini warehouse, she noticed the same color of shoes from earlier, and could promptly assume it was the guy that had started talking to her. She quickly moved towards the building, the bottom of her UI getting a bit static-y from her 'tearing up', essentially. She stopped short, her mind beginning to run. What if this wasn't him? What if it had been someone else talking with her? Where were THEY then? How com- "Hello?"

Giving a shriek and quickly moving backwards, she hit a wall behind her, turning as far away from this male as possible. It was the same guy, only, she could ACTUALLY see him. Orange hair held back with a bright yellow headband, a bit of ash on his face, faint smell of metal and burning wood surrounded him. He quickly made it known he wasn't looking for danger, moving over and making sure the other was alright.

"Who... Who are you.. Where am I..?" Her voice came out very wavy, as she slide herself down the wall and curled up tightly out of fear.

"Hey, hey.. It's alright.." The male hummed, getting down on his knee in front of her and offering his hand. "My name is Damen Michaels.. You're in a town called 'West Mesa'." He said, which seemed to calm her wires down a bit, letting up a bit and turning towards Damen. "You came from Project SAI, yeah..? Do you have anywhere to go?"

"No.. I don't.. I'm on the run.. I'm Unit AM." She spoke, before reaching her hand to grab Damen's. Calloused and rougher than she expected, but it was assuring nonetheless.

"Well, you're in luck.. You have a place here, access to any supplies you need, without a fee." Damen spoke as he stood up, the android following his actions, before the male leaned to look around the wall, pointing to the apartment building. "It's not much, due for demolition even, but I offer it as your safe haven."

With that, he let go of her hand, turning around to the mini warehouse. "You're free to go settle yourself in. If you need anything, I'll be in here for a few hours." He said, before walking over towards the building, a subtle limp on his left side. But, she didn't go to the apartment, instead following Damen into his shop. Damen did notice her actions, but allowed her to follow, pulling up a chair for her by the open door and going to the table full of scrap metal, beginning to sort it out by metal types.

~~~~

Awaking from her sleep, Amelia felt an odd sense of missing in her chest, the memory and dream replaying in her head. She glanced to the physical clock she had, her dream simulation only lasting 3 hours, and giving a small sigh.

Leaving that day without thought, but it felt right.. Being here felt right and amazing.. But she couldn't help but think of a few what if's, allowing her mind to until her sleep mode powered back on, sending her back to the land of dreaming. The only way she could actually achieve that was by grabbing her old bandana, which was patched up by Damen with bits of blue fabric. It made it unique and special to her, but she never really wore it unless she was missing something, Earth specifically. A subtle, smokey wood smell was still on it, even after all these time (and multiple washes), but it helped ease her further into sleep.

As she gripped it tightly in her hand, practically curling around it and other things, she couldn't help but smile in blissfull relief. She was safe here, she had her dad and papa, she had the clan, she had so many friends, and Dave..

"Thank you.."