#i've worked on this for like 6 hours non-stop

[squircatlies]

God put me on this earth to be funny and off-putting. And I'm all out of funny.

Anyway, I don't know what kind of au this is, but to me post-canon billford is them pointing at each other, saying "he's like a pet to me" and both of them are lying. They're exploding each other with their minds while making out. They make themselves and everyone around them miserable. They've both been through therapy and they're still like this.

Stan wishes so hard there were slurs for triangles.

Honestly, I think Ford would never actually get back with Bill even if he redeemed himself and changed his ways. He's had enough of Bill's bullshit and I support that. But I also think it's the funniest shit he could possibly do.

[kelsh]

A (somewhat) accurate process of Mike rotting after he got scooped because I'm literally obsessed with the stages of decomposition and I've been curious about it since seeing that cutscene in SL.

disclaimer!!! I did not use gore photos or non-con photos of the deceased, my references were pigs or medical literature

Close-ups below + decomp timeline:

Stage 1 - Immediately after to a couple hours since death, Pallor Mortis (paling of skin) and Algor Mortis (gradual loss of body heat) occurs. Livor Mortis (pooling of blood to extremities) begins to set in.

Stage 2 - A couple hours to a couple days after Michael's death, Livor Mortis has become fixed, giving the lowest extremities on his body (hands, feet) a purplish hue. Rigor Mortis (stiffening of muscles) occurs and fades after a few days. Autolysis (destruction of cells by the self) causes loosening of skin, fluids released gives it a sheen. Eyes start to cloud.

Stage 3 - A couple days to almost a week since his death. He should be bloating like a balloon but the giant fucking hole in his stomach from the scooper releases all gases (he stinks.) Ennard puppeting his body made it hard for flies to land but they eventually got there and the maggots have hatched. Continued decay of his flesh turns him greenish and makes his skin slough off. Liquefied meat seeps from his orifices. Eyes are fully clouded.

Stage 4 - A week to a couple weeks since the scooper. Bro is experiencing premature male pattern baldness. He's all squishy and slimy from the body fluid and rotting. Exposed parts become a purplish-black colour and the maggots are graduating to further life stages. Eyeballs cave in, get eaten, or in Michael's case, pop out.

Stage 5 - A couple weeks to a month since bro's death. The last chunks of his hair are holding on by a miracle. Most of his outer flesh is eaten away and is almost entirely a purplish-black. Maggots have mostly turned into flies and left for college.

Stage 6 - Ennard realizes they can't stay in a zombie anymore and decides to dip. Leaves Michael a fresh set of eyes as a "sorry" gift. His rotting has thankfully stopped but it'll take a while for him to regenerate. Or not. I have no idea how remnant works. For now, he's basically a sack of rotted flesh and exposed bone. Bald.

This entire post is essentially-

[arabellaawrites]

infrunami | cl16

[ drabble ]

by which, she loved him too early, he loved her too late

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: none

a/n: hello everyone! this is my first fic ever and I'm so happy with how this turned out! I hope it was an enjoyable experience and I hope there wasn't any element that was unpleasant or unenjoyable for yall! I'm aware that it lacks dialogue and everything is past paced and doesn't have much room for detail! I swear I'm working on that and once I've perfected that art, I hope my writing will be more enchanted etc! alright enough yapping. enjoy the fic!

back then, you and arthur hated watching charles kart. the idea that you both needed to sit under the scorching monegasque sun for afew hours was never exciting but at least you get to watch arthur’s older brother, charles, kart. you’ve always fancied charles ever since arthur introduced you to him at the playground.

he was 3 years older then you and was the exact opposite of arthur, he was matured, well mannered and wasn't childish like you both were. that's what you love so much about him.

until he started going around europe to join racing series, when Arthur broke the news to you, you acted like it wasn't a big deal. you'll still get to see him on the television or during family holidays, right?. but that also means you'll be seeing him once a week or every few months, eventually a week turned into a month, a month turned into a year until suddenly you wont be seeing him at all which broke heart.

soon it was arthur who left you to follow in charles footsteps, racing across europe, joining f4 and achieving great things. unlike Charles, Arthur still kept in contact with you, constantly inviting you to his races and you both still enjoyed each others company, f4 soon turned into f3 and nothing has changed you still admired Charles from afar and Arthur would constantly ask "do you still have a crush on Charles?" or the occasional "y/n you have to let go" but you never did, Charles was your first love and you wanted him and only him.

every night you sleep in bed, tossing and turning, with arthurs voice continuously replaying in your head, but he was right you do have to let go.

when Charles first debuted for formula 1 for haas was when he first reached out to you in years with no contact. inviting you to join the paddock, to see him race in the pinnacle of motorsport, you were above and beyond the moon. strutting down the paddock next to Pascale and Arthur towards the hospitaly while also trying not to pay focus on the ever lasting sounds of camera shutters and kept your composure.

it has been years since then now Charles was in his 6 years in formula 1 and you have never been prouder, seeing him through his ups and down, supporting him through out all the hardships that this sport had caused him.

you often found yourself in and out of college trying to balance study with the constant travel to different races to support your best boys, Arthur and Charles. which alway lead you to end up in his, Charles, driver room before a race reassuring that he'll be fine and his team wont let him down again.

"your the best, y/n" he smiles before suiting up, making you stunned in place with a subtle blush spread across your face as you took his compliment.

barcelona 2023, and you just arrived at the Ferrari hospitality per usual, greeting the staff and Ferrari mechanics as your make your way inside until you bumped into someone making you tumble back as the mysterious man reaches for your waist, holding you steady, you smiled at him and apologized which made him smile back and that's where thing took off.

ever since that day you took has been seeing each other non stop and with that it ruined you and Charles relationship, plans were often cancelled, phone calls were usually ignored and text messages were left unopened. this took a toll on Charles, he's new profound feelings for you was too strong and by the time he realized that he has fallen, it was too late.

"mate please!"

Charles begged to Arthur over the phone, trying to figure out what his feelings were and was trying to piece in the clues in himself. he was frustrated, angry and confused he loved you but it was too late.

while you were living your best life, you had a partner in bed, your home always had that comfortable warm presence of your new boyfriend everything felt perfect, he was everything you ever wanted.

he was also everything Charles ever wanted to be, your man.

until one rainy Tuesday afternoon where everything went downhill, you just came home from them store and was welcome home by the repetitive sound of feminine moans that rang threw out the house. your groceries dropped to the floor followed by the sound of glass in your bag smashing which made the moans stop and your boyfriend ran out to where you were standing. "please I can explain this-" he frantically said while holding on to you as you tried to push him away, "I-ive heard enough! just leave and get your stuff while your at it!" tears swell your eyes as you tried to swallow the horrid sensation in your throat and pushed him away before running back into the rain and in your car. you broke down in heavy tears, your heart ache with hurt and sorrow as you try to make way to Charles place.

"y/n- who did this to you..?"

Charles said as he watches you stand in the rain, mascara running down your face and your clothes all soaking wet, without hesitation he pulled you inside and wrapped a towel around you,

" he cheated on me! how could he-"

you sobs onto him, "he was my-" hiccups "he was my everything and he just!"

you weeped into his chest as he held you tight and tried to calm you down. eventually you stopped crying and lifted your head from his chest

"cha.." you called out to him as he stroked your head and then looking down on you.

"know that I've-" you were cut off "yes I've known...I was an idiot, y/n...I realized too late. I really did love you...I was.." he sighed and looked down at her, "give me another chance, y/n.."

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[multifandomimagines999]

May I get mark sloan x reader please? Like reader has been on call for like three days straight and is super exhausted. And while charting, reader falls asleep standing up and Mark props them up and takes them to an on call room and makes sure they get some rest ? Thank you so much !

Exhaustion, Mark Sloan x reader

Summary: An exhausted reader collapsed and her boyfriend comes to her rescue...then it all makes sense

Warnings: Fluff, Exhaustion, overworking, throwing up

Note: I tweaked it a bit @theichabbieclub but I hope you still like it! I'm just getting back into this.

"You look like crap," commented Alex as we walked down the hallway.

"Oh thanks. I feel like it too," you admitted, "I've been working a double because we're short staffed on the peds floor as you know. So I've been bouncing around non-stop. I'm exhausted."

"And crabby. Clearly you haven't been able to screw your secret boyfriend too."

"Shut it Karev!" you growled, slapping him in the arm, "I am never going to tell you who it is if you keep making comments like that."

"Fine," he grumbled, "I've gotta get to the Nic-U. What have they got you covering today?"

"I've got a marathon surgery with Robbins, Shepherd, and Sloan on a 6 year old girl with a facial tumor."

"Damn that's rad. Good luck."

"Thanks."

You went into the surgery with a clear head, ready to save this little girl's life. We began and about two hours into it, Mark showed up to help work on the facial reconstruction and repair. His portion of the surgery took about three to four hours. 

"Alright...I'm done here. She's all yours to finish up with."

"Take my tool," you whispered to Avery, suddenly not feeling well.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

He took it and then immediately everything went black.

3rd POV

"Dr. (Y/L/N)!" yelled Robbins as her resident's body hit the floor.

"That's why she handed me her tool," Jackson realized.

"Can someone please check on them please?" asked Arizona as she continued working.

"I got it!" Mark announced before rushing over to her side. 

Their relationship was still a secret, so he tried his best to hide his romantic concern in the moment. He scooped her up as carried her out of the OR to an empty gurney. He took her to a private room and began examining her. 

--------

You woke up to a flashlight shining in your eyes and a hand on your forehead. As the darkness disappeared, you saw that the flashlight belonged to Mark. You groaned as your head pulsed with pain.

"What happened?" you asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You might want to tell me... You passed out in the OR. I hooked you up to an IV because from the looks of it you're severely dehydrated."

"Mark I-" you were interrupted by a horrible feeling in your gut.

You jerked up, reaching for the bucket before puking. When you were done emptying you stomach, you collapsed back on the bed. You suddenly felt sweaty with hair plastered against your forehead. 

"Dr. Sloan, I may know what's wrong?" Karev jogged in, out of breath, "I heard the news about (Y/F/N). Three of the peds kids just came down with the flu. All three kids were your patients that you've been dealing with during this double shift. And with you being so overworked, your immune system was weaker, so combined with the dehydration, you got sick."

"Well shit."

"Looks like I have my diagnoses," Mark replied, and you just glared at him.

"I hate you right now."

"I know."

"Wait a minute?" Karev questioned, stepping in the room and shutting the door, "Sloan's your secret boyfriend?!"

"You tell anybody, I will kill you. You understand me Alex? I will make sure every girl in this hospital knows what a man whore you are and you will never get laid again. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah, calm your panties. I'll let Bailey know you're so sick with the flu that you can't drive and that I asked Dr. Sloan to take care of you since he's already been exposed. Okay?"

"Thank you Alex."

"Yeah whatever."

***

You laid on the couch with Mark, all cuddled up in sweats and his shirt. While you were hot to the touch, you yourself were feeling cold. Your body ached and your head was still throbbing. You rested your head in his lap while he played with your hair soothingly.

"How are you feeling babe?" he asked, looking down at you.

"Like shit," you admitted, making him chuckle.

"Well you still look cute if that makes you feel any better."

"A little."

"Mark please. You shouldn't see me like this. We've only been together for three months."

"(Y/F/N), we slept together before we started dating and on the first date we talked about our deep dark issues. I think it's okay if I see you with the flu. Now let me please be there for you."

"Fair point."

Anytime you felt you were going to be sick, he was there, holding your hair back and assuring you soothingly. Anything he could do to help you, he wanted to.

Mark held your hair back as another round came up. God this was hell. Physical and emotional hell. When he walked out to go grab something, you laid down on the cool tile. He came back in with a water bottle and some crackers along with a smile.

"What? The tile is nice and cold."

He helped pull you up so you were sitting up against the cabinets, "You know you need to drink to re-hydrate. And these crackers might help."

Your hair was a mess as he brushed it out and sat beside you. He rubbed your back lovingly until your eyes felt heavy and all you wanted to do was sleep.

"Alright. Lets get you to bed," he spoke, sweeping you into his arms.

He placed you into bed and disappeared before coming back with a fresh garbage can. After placing it beside the bed, he climbed in next to you.

"Mark, you don't have to stay with me. You could get sick and-"

"I'm not leaving unless you need me to get something."

"What about work?"

"I'll call in. You're more important."

A smile crossed your face as you rolled over, resting your head on his chest. His arm snaked around you, one around your waist and the other stroked your hair. Finally, you were feeling a little bit better.

"Try to sleep. I'll still be here."

"Thank you," you mumbled sleepily, "I love you."

"I love you too."

[whispering-ways]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡ i like you (too much) - part 2 ♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

♡ summary: you just joined a new high school and you're hoping to make a bunch of new friends. unfortunately, you're paired up with Katsuki and he seems to despise you. nevertheless, you're determined to make it work. little do you know that you're first interaction would lead to a wonderful friendship and possibly even more.

♡ pairing: bakugo katsuki x reader

♡ tags: no warnings, just fluff :) but the next couple of parts may or may not have some smut ;)

♡ notes: hi besties! here's part 2 to the first chapter. i should have more time to work on this story and a bunch of other fics since I've officially graduated! i hope you guys like this chapter and let me know if yall want more :) the pink text is the readers texts and the orange is Katsuki.

You heard the alarm on your phone ring, waking you up for the morning. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand to turn it off. You rub your eyes, tired from having to wake up so early the last couple of days. The bus at your new high school came around 6:45, which meant that you had to wake up at at least 5:35 am to get ready. A part of you liked getting up so early; it made you feel on top of things, a true it girl. But the rest of you ached to just swaddle yourself in your plush blankets and sink right back into bed. You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a bit. 

After you splash your face with some water you stare into the mirror, taking notice of your dark circles. “Damn I might need to start using an eye cream or something soon, waking up so early is not doing justice to my skin,” you said out loud. As soon as you said it though, you knew that was a lie. You knew in your heart that the only reason why you were so tired every morning is because you spent every night texting Katsuki. 

By now you figured that he was definitely a night owl but unfortunately, you weren’t. You had always been the type of girl to sleep early, prioritizing your 8 hours of sleep. But if there was one person who could make you disregard your routine, it’d be Katsuki. Over the last couple of days, you both had gotten closer. You’d been talking at school and texting each other seemingly non-stop and you’d say a decent friendship had formed between you two. Something about his texts made your stomach fill with butterflies and you couldn’t help getting excited every time you saw a notification from him pop up on your phone. 

You spent nights staying awake texting Katsuki till 1, 2 3 in the morning. Even when your eyelids felt like they could no longer remain open, you’d do your best to stay awake to not miss a single text. Was it a bit much? Yes. Should you be putting a guy before your beauty sleep? Probably not. Did you still do it anyway? Absolutely. It’s not like you didn’t text him in the day, but after school, he barely texted you besides the occasional response after a couple of hours. He just seemed to come alive in the night. That’s when you’d get your near-instantaneous responses and true conversations. So if talking to him meant staying up at night, you were willing to do it. 

You’d done a good job so far of staying awake in class; after all, you didn’t want to miss out on notes. But after a couple of days, your exhaustion had just gotten to you.. You were tired, the lecture seemed to go on an on forever, the teacher’s monotonous voice, it was the typical recipe for drifting off. With your head in your hands, you felt your eyes start to blink slowly as they got heavier by the moment. Before you knew it, you felt your eyelids close. You didn’t know how long you were asleep. But your teacher’s voice immediately brought you back to reality.

“(Y/N), could you tell me what the answer is to Question 3?” the teacher said, her voice startling you awake. Your face burned with embarrassment as you flipped through your notes to find some way to solve the question. As you couldn’t find any way out of the situation, your shame grew and grew. All of a sudden you felt a sharp nudge to your arm coming from beside you. You turn to see Kastuki clearing his throat, and pushing his worksheet towards you. At first, you’re confused but then the pieces clicked in your head once you saw him pointing to the same question the teacher was asking you about.

“(Y/N)? Answer the question please, we don’t have all day.” your teacher said, her tone getting more frustrated. 

“Uhhhh...2?” you answer hesitantly, glancing quickly towards Katsuki’s paper to make sure you said the right number.

“Oh, yes, that’s correct. Next time, still pay attention to the lecture,” the teacher said, moving on with her presentation.

“Thank you so much, you saved my ass just there.” you whisper to Katsuki. “I would’ve gotten laughed at for sure if I got that wrong.”

“You don’t need to thank me, that’s what friends are for, stupid,” he replied with a smile. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d never really seen his smile, it was just downright adorable; surprising for someone who looked so intimidating. You were so wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t catch yourself staring. “What, something on my face or some shit?”

“Uhh...no, nothing at all, you’re all peaches and cream.” 

He chuckled in response and turned around, leaving you to your thoughts.

“Peaches and cream?? Who even says something like that anymore?? Stupid, stupid me and stupid, stupid thing to say and now he probably thinks I’m weird and strange and ー” your thoughts were cut off by the sound of the bell releasing everyone to go to lunch. You started packing up your laptop and your notes, glad that there were no more chances to get embarrassed by the teacher again, at least for the next hour. 

You feel yet another nudge, and you turn towards Katsuki. “Hey do you wanna share lunch with me? I don’t know if you’ve got a lunch packed already but like I accidentally packed two sandwiches and I’m on a cut and I only wanna eat one sandwich, and I don’t wanna waste any damn food. So like if you want you can have the other one or something,’ he says.

“Yes! I mean, yes that would be nice thank you so much, what kind of sandwich?” you reply trying to not sound too happy at the offer. 

“Well I don’t really know what it's fucking called, but there’s some grilled chicken, lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and I think some spicy mayo in it. That sound good to you?”

Your mouth watered just thinking about it. “Yeah dude, that sounds great, thanks again! I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick, and then do you wanna meet up at the cafeteria?”

“Nah, I'll just wait for you. Plus I don’t want you getting lost or anything trying to find me.” Katsuki replied walking towards the bathroom. You thank him internally; you had no clue where the bathroom was anyways. After a couple moments, you both get to the bathroom. As you head inside, Katsuki leans on the wall of lockers nearby, plopping his backpack down on the floor. 

He double checks to see whether you’ve truly gone inside and puts his face in his hands. He was hoping you didn’t notice how red he was on the way to the bathroom. “I didn’t think it’d actually work, holy shit,” Katsuki thought to himself over and over again. If truth be told, Katsuki didn’t make any extra sandwiches.

That morning Katsuki got up early to make lunch for school, not because he was a morning person, but because of a small detail you mentioned last night. You both were having your usual nightly talk when the topic got to food. 

“Yeah I like to cook a lot honestly! I haven’t really made anything recently, but hopefully I can get more into it soon.” 

It surprised Katsuki honestly, he never took you as someone who’d like to cook. 

“Oh word, that’s cool, any reason why you like it tho?”

“Yeah, I mean like I guess its just my love language? I love to cook and just make people happy through food :) I usually cook for my family a lot.”

“That’s honestly pretty fucking kind of you. Who cooks for you?

“Ah, I mean its just me cooking at home, so no one really lol.”

“Damn, its gotta be tiring cooking all the time tho”

“Yeah sometimes, but yk like I said its my love language so I don’t mind. But thats why I just get food from the cafeteria, its just tiring most times to cook for everyone and do lunch lol”

Katsuki read your text and laid his head back on his pillow, arm across his face as he stared up at the ceiling. His stomach filled with excitement. Just like that, an idea brewed in his head. He wasn’t a good cook by any means whatsoever. Besides making a mean microwaveable ramen, he didn’t know how to make much but he was gonna do his best to make lunch for the both of you tomorrow morning. You fell asleep soon after that, but his idea kept running in his mind for the rest of the night. 

He spent the rest of the night scrolling through TikToks, trying to figure out some sort of recipe that was easy but something you’d like. And that’s when he had his eureka moment. There was grilled chicken in his fridge and he was sure there had to be some topping in there too; he could make grilled chicken sandwiches. All he could hope for at that point was whether it’d be good or not. 

The next morning he woke up determined to make you the best fucking sandwich you’d ever had. 30 minutes later and he accomplished his goal. As he drove to school, he hoped you’d like it when he realized he forgot a vital part of his plan. “How the fuck am I gonna tell her about lunch?” 

He wracked his brain for any more ideas. Katsuki didn’t want to come across too strong, but you just deserved something nice. Finally, he settled on telling you that he just had an extra sandwich. After all, honesty was the best policy and he technically did have an extra. He honestly thought you’d refuse or have some sort of lunch with you already. But when you said yes, he was absolutely elated. He tried his best to cover his enthusiasm, but now it was written all over Katsuki’s face.  The grin hadn’t left his face since you both started walking to the bathroom.

The soft tug to his jacket sleeve brought him out of his thoughts. “Hey, thanks for waiting! Do you wanna maybe go to the library instead to eat? The cafeteria is always so fucking noisy and I’ll barely be able to hear you talk,” you ask.

“She wants to hear me talk; she wants to hear me talk,” Katsuki thought gleefully. “Yeah sure, I don’t mind,” he replied, trying to play cool.

After walking to the library, you both find a quiet spot in the back. You and Katsuki sit down, side by side, before he pulled out two small plastic bags from his backpack. He passed you a sandwich and waited anxiously for your reaction.

You look at him quizzically. “Why the fuck is he just staring at me and not eating at all?” you thought before taking a bite. Your eyes widened and you looked up at Katsuki.

“What? What? Is it bad or something? You don’t gotta fucking eat it if its that bad,” he says.

“No, Katsuki, its perfect! It's really really good!” you reply, diving back in for another bite. You skipped breakfast and your stomach had been grumbling all throughout class and this was just the perfect fix.

“I’m glad you like it. I made it myself,” Katsuki said with pride, a smile stretched across his face yet again. How could he not smile when you looked so precious?

“Are you for real? That is so sweet of you! Kastuki, I’m for real touched you thought of little old me, you sat leaning over to wrap him in a hug.

Katsuki’s whole face turns red, hypersensitive to your touch. If he knew making you a sandwich would get you close to him, he would've made you lunch way sooner. 

You break away and continue eating your sandwich as Katsuki starts to eat his. You’re so engrossed in your meal that you don’t notice Katsuki staring at you, still red and stomach filled with butterflies.

When you got home, you immediately went to your room, thoughts of lunch on your mind that had nothing to do with being hungry and everything to do with a certain blonde. “He made me lunch. Like from scratch. Like who does that?? As if he’s already not cute enough, now I’ve got him cooking for me,” you thought. 

That’s when a thought quickly crossed your head. “Does he maybe like me?” It only took you a few moments with that idea to make you absolutely flushed. “There’s like no way, right? I’m me and he’s so cool, and plus I’m just being delulu because there’s literally no way. Exactly, there’s no way he likes me right?” you say to yourself. 

You tried your best to focus on your homework for the rest of the night, trying to get thoughts of Katsuki out of your head. But every so often thoughts of that darling smile or his piercing eyes or how he smelt like burnt caramel when you hugged him kept creeping into your mind. It didn’t help that he was texting you too. With every single thought and text, the feeling in your stomach just got stronger and stronger. It was a weird mix of butterflies, anxiety, and giddiness and God you loved it so much. You gave up on your homework and laid on your bed, starting to drift into your usual daydream. 

You closed your eyes, curling up into your blankets. You imagined Katsuki’s arm coming from behind you, wrapping around your stomach and pulling you close to his bare chest. His arm slide up your arm, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Just as he kissed the top of your head, you heard a voice call out, bringing you back to reality abruptly. 

“(Y/N)! Come down for dinner honey!” your mom yelled. You let out a sigh; you were so close to the exciting part of the dream too. 

"Coming, Mama!" you cheerfully replied as you quickly slipped on some cozy slippers for comfort. As you finished getting ready, your thoughts wandered, wishing your daydreams were real life. With a sigh, you brushed off those feelings, "I'm just being silly. I know he'll never see me in that light."

Meanwhile, on the other side of your street, Katsuki was having some day dreams of his own. He still hadn’t been able to get you off his mind. It was like whole world around him gained color the second you walked into his mind. All he could think about after lunch was how it felt to have you so close to him. His thoughts were filled what how it felt to have your arms around him. You were so much warmer than he imagined. And thinking about how your chest slightly pressed into his bicep sent him into overdrive. 

With all his heart, he wished he could’ve hugged you back, even if it was just for a second. He engraved every detail of your embrace in his memory, filing them away in his memory. Katsuki hoped that one day he’d be able to sweep you into his arms and hold you close. But until then, thoughts and daydreams would have to do.

[the-guilty-writer]

Big Day, Huh?

Request from anon: Can you do a Spencer daughter reader where she has autism, like she always needs his help (can she be young like kid age)?

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader (child)

Summary: Spencer's autistic daughter has an eventful morning at the BAU.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I've never written a young child before so I hope this is okay.

CW: autistic reader going non verbal, eating habits, overwhelmed

---

You sat under your dad's desk, off in your own little world, as you tried to take apart one of his pens in a manner that would let you put it back together.

You had the day off school, but your usual nanny was away on vacation so you got to spend the day with your dad at the office.

You took the metro every day with him to get you to school, but the ride to Quantico was about twice as long as your ride to school. Spencer had told you that ahead of time so you could keep track on your wrist watch. He was thankful that watching the clock go by had kept you occupied and calm at the same time. When your normal schedule was disrupted you didn't like it, but making things as predictable as possible in unpredictable situations helped you cope.

Just like your dad, you liked numbers. He told you how many metro stops it would be (12), how many blocks you'd have to walk (3), how many security checks you'd go through (2- the metal detector for you and a search of your bag), and how many floors the elevator old climb (6) to get to the BAU.

The bullpen was already busy by the time the two of you arrived, Spencer holding your hand so you stayed close. To get away from the busy visual of the office, you'd found refuge under his desk.

“You can tap my knee if you need anything, okay?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, you nodded in response. He helped you pull out your noise canceling headphones and then one of your stuffed animals- the kind with beads in it so you could play with the way the weight changed depending on how you placed it. You started with balancing it on your head, and then in your hand, and eventually your dad's shoe.

At the time that you would normally switch from reading time to math class you had asked your dad for something new to do.

“What about this puzzle?” He pulled a small sliding puzzle from your bag.

“No. Teacher gives us things not from our bag to do.”

Spencer hadn't considered this before, but it was true. During reading time you got something from your bag and during math time the teacher gave you handouts. So he'd given you a sheet of paper with some simple equations and a pen, purposefully making the problems easy so you wouldn't get frustrated.

After you had “turned in your work” your dad let you keep the pen. You'd always liked to take things apart and then put them back together and pens were no different. Spencer secretly hoped one day it would be something more cool, like a spectroscopy machine or a space shuttle, but pens were a good place to start.

Once you had taken the cap off the top, the spring easily fell out and then the ink. You were careful to line each of the pieces up on the floor to keep them orderly. Once you put the pen back together you clicked it a few times just to make sure it was working correctly before starting the process over again.

You checked your watch- it was nearly time for lunch. You tapped your dad on the knee. He scooted his chair back so he could look at you under the desk.

“Hey, what is it?” he asked.

“It’s lunch time,” you told him.

Spencer thought quickly- technically his lunch break wasn’t for another two hours, but it wasn’t worth waiting if it meant you’d have a stomach ache later which could possibly lead to a meltdown.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go eat lunch.”

You took your lunch box out of your bag and crawled out from underneath the desk. It was even busier now than it was this morning. You started to grind your teeth and clench your fists, feeling something you couldn’t quite pinpoint boil inside you. Your dad noticed immediately.

“(Y/N),” he cooed. “Can I carry you to the lunch room?”

You nodded and Spencer picked you up. As soon as you were in his arms, he wrapped his limbs around you tightly, providing you with a calming pressure. You buried your head in his shoulder and closed your eyes, reducing the amount of visual input your brain was receiving. The familiar smell of your dad’s shirt was calming and you balled your fists in the fabric, holding onto him tight as he carried you to the conference room.

Once the two of you were inside, he shut the door. Unless there was a case, the room would be empty other than the two of you. He helped you climb up into one of the chairs and unpack your lunch. You ate the same thing every day- a bag of apple slices, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with the crust cut off, banana chips, and some crackers. Everything was perfectly portioned as always. You ate each of them one at a time, never switching between foods but always finishing one before starting on another.

Spencer worked on files as you ate, keeping any crime scene photos carefully concealed from your line of vision. He knew after this it would be your normal rest time, and since change always made you tired, he hoped you might even take a nap.

Once you were finished eating, Spencer helped you clean up your lunch area. He closed up the files he was working on and thought about where you could possibly have rest time. You asked him to carry you back through the bullpen, to which he gladly obliged, and put your lunchbox away in your bag.

You yawned, clearly tired and a bit overwhelmed. “Rest time,” you told your dad.

“Do you want me to carry you again?” he asked.

You lifted your arms towards him, asking to be picked up. He carried you down the hall towards JJ’s office. There was a large leather chair in the corner of her office that you could curl up in for a little while, but by the time he reached her office door, you were already fast asleep in his arms.

“JJ?” Spencer said softly so he didn’t wake you.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ replied. She smiled when she saw you asleep in his arms. “Big day, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you mind if we sit in the chair for a little bit? Just so she can get some rest?”

“Of course. Make yourself at home.”

Spencer walked over to the chair and sat down on it carefully. You stirred a bit in his arms but didn’t wake up. JJ closed the door to reduce the amount of sound in the room. Spencer kept you cradled in his grasp, feeling the softness of your breath against his shoulder and the gentle rise and fall of your tiny diaphragm against his body.

“You’re a great dad, Spence,” JJ told him. “She’s lucky to have you.”

Spencer smiled a bit. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He began to feel himself relax. You were in a deep sleep now and the room was quiet other than the soft scratching of JJ’s pen against paper. He closed his eyes, telling himself that it would only be a minute, but before he knew it he was asleep too.

[emo-trash101]

Guys I don't know if you can tell but slow burn is actually not my strong suit

Home is Where the Heart is

Pt 4

Daisuke x Male! Reader

Pronouns: second person, implied male

Word count: 1k+

TW: People going insane, Jimmy, murder/death, general mouthwashing stuff, internalized homophobia (this is just generally for the whole series)

Day 64

It took a whole day of coming up with a good excuse as to why your door was now broken, and sufficient begging to get Swansea to come fix it. The second part was probably because he knew he would have to bring Daisuke along with, and that Daisuke would likely spend the whole time talking to you.

Swansea never was stupid, and you know that just as well as everyone else. But the way he talked about you and Daisuke's friendship, like it was something more than just that, it made you think he was stupid. You weren't gay, and you knew it, why couldn't anyone else?

But that led you to where you are now, sitting on your bed silently while Daisuke is talking to you about how far he is in the game he's playing currently (even though by this point he's played through it 4-5 times at least), and Swansea grumbling at Daisuke to pay attention and actually do his work.

"Hey, lay off him a little bit." You say halfheartedly, trying your best not to notice the way Daisuke's face lights up when you defend him. "I will the second he actually does some work." Swansea says, somehow being passive aggressive and just aggressive at the same time.

Either way, Daisuke looks at you, a smile on his face. "Thanks!" He whispers, trying to be hushed, but you both know that his concept of volume control is completely and utterly non-existent. You nod, trying your best to not make eye contact with him again.

It hurts to look him in the face, this feeling boiling up inside of you. You honestly can't tell if it's anger, or anxiety, or any other common emotion. But it exists. And you hate it.

It takes about another half an hour for them both to finish fixing the door. There's obviously still a dent within the door, but it looks at least more usable than it was an hour and a half ago. "Thanks Swansea." You say, him mumbling a half-assed 'yer welcome' before marching out of the room. His footsteps slowly fading away.

Daisuke stands there, a look on his face like he has something he wants to ask or say. "You can spit it out" you say, your voice coming out more harsh than you expected. His eyes widen slightly in shock before he sighs, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. I've just been wondering," he stops for a second, looking at you leaning against the wall next to your bed, "Are you...doing okay?"

His face looks unusually filled with worry, a look that you decide doesn't suit him at all. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be okay?" You look at him, feigning confidence. It feels weird, being this concerned about someone being concerned about you, but you try your best to ignore it. "I dunno, you just seem, off. And like, I totally get it if your social battery is plummeting, sometimes I get like that too and it is definitely not awesome."

He continues on for a minute or two, but stops when he notices you just looking at him. You're not saying anything, just looking at him, caringly. His face reddens slightly "Sorry, just long story short, I just want to make sure my friend is okay." He says, and you feel a slight sting at the word 'friend'. You knew you were friends, but hearing him say it, like it's a concrete thing happening, it hurts, and it's terrible.

"Yeah...I appreciate it." You say, and Daisuke smiles softly. And things feel less confusing for a minute. You aren't worried that people have their own incorrect opinions on you. You were here right now, and you were looking at your friend.

Friend.

Day 70

You couldn't sleep the night after they fixed your door. Or the night after that. It's been 6 whole days you haven't been able to sleep, and tonight is no exception.

You sit up on your bed, your feet planted on the hard ground beneath you. The ship always feels chillier at night, but it's hard to tell if it's just because of the placebo effect or if it's actually cold.

So now, like every other night, you stand up and leave your room. It's easier to think and walk at the same time instead of staying stagnant. It makes you feel nervous.

You slide a thin jacket over your larger T-shirt, sighing softly at the comfort it's warmth brings you. You step out of the room, checking to see if anyone else is wandering around before making your way to the lounging area. Maybe being somewhere else might help with clearing your mind.

You walk carefully, wincing when a step sounds particularly louder, and before you know it, you're standing at the entrance of the lounge room. As you reach to open the door, you hear some rustling inside of it.

You silently debate just not going in there before you decide that maybe at least having some company might be nice. You open the door, and low and behold, Daisuke is standing behind the counter, 2 sugar packets sitting on the counter, and one open in his hands. "It isn't what it looks like, I swear!" He almost shouts, placing the open sugar packet on the counter and raising his hands defensively.

"Oh so you aren't stealing 3 packets of sugar right now?" You ask rhetorically, chuckling softly. His head drops in defeat, sighing, "yeah...I guess it is." His sad reaction almost makes you laugh even harder.

You walk closer to him, carefully closing the door to the lounge, "Don't worry, I won't tell" you say, leaning against a nearby counter. He says an excited thanks before lifting up the sugar packet, mentioning random topics between each taste of sugar.

It almost felt good listening to him enjoy himself, not like the other times where you feel like you're about to go into cardiac arrest or something. This feels real, and grounded. Before you realize it, you've gone brain dead again, just staring at him as he talks.

"Earth to (name)?" He says, grabbing you by the shoulder. "Y-yeah? Shit sorry I zoned out" it feels like you've been doing that a lot lately, but then again a lot has been on your mind, "what were you saying?". He looks at you, his eyes containing something different in them.

You had been paying a lot of attention to his eyes recently, you sometimes could convince yourself it was on accident, but now you rely on it to tell you what he's thinking. But now? You couldn't even tell. "I just wanted to know if you wanted some." He said, offering the bag to you, a kind smile on his face. "Oh...yeah thanks." You say, dipping your finger into the bag and licking the sweet dust off of it.

You could say what happened next wasn't real, or was just a dream, but you know better.

After you lick the sugar from your finger, you look up at him, muttering a small thank you. What annoys you is that he's just tall enough that you need to look up to really make eye contact with him. You wanted to say something, anything. Maybe thank him for being such a good friend, or ask him how long he'd been sneaking the sugar, but your brain seems to be unable to actually form a coherent thought.

But it's not like he isn't looking at you either, actually his face is much closer than you remember it being when you thanked him. Have you really been in your thoughts this much that you didn't even notice him leaning down.

Had you focused on this detail any longer you would've probably missed the feeling of his lips making contact with yours. It was insanely unexpected, and confusing and everything.

It ends just as fast as it started, and before he can even fully pull away from you you step back, dropping the sugar as a result. You don't even have the energy to look down at the mess you definitely just caused.

You touch your lips, almost as if you'd be able to feel the ghosting of his on them. "You...you kissed me!" You say, more in shock than anything.

More thoughts than you can process are running through your head that you can't even tell if he says anything. 'why did he do that?', 'how did I not realize he liked guys?', 'when did he start liking me?'

'why did it feel so good?'

"Shit I'm sorry I thought...I thought you wanted it too and it just seemed like the right moment and-" he continues profusely apologizing, and even if he doesn't, you notice the tears pricking at his eyes.

You can't even listen, or do anything. Your natural instincts kick in and you just leave.

You rush out of the lounge as fast and quietly as you can, almost throwing yourself back into your room before you close the door. That shouldn't have happened, you guys are just friends, you and him are nothing more, you shouldn't be.

You slide down against your door, frantically grabbing at your jacket to try and ground yourself. You didn't like him. You can't like him, not like that. It feels almost like you're not even the one saying that to yourself anymore, it sounds more like your father than anything.

As you look up at the ceiling, and close your eyes, your body shaking from anxiety and shock, only one thing truly crosses your mind.

You like him.

You like a boy.

I'm beginning to think I have a weird addiction to ominous endings with weird one sentence paragraphs, but it's probably fine.

Make sure you drink water and eat food!

Last and Next

[nanamikentoseyebags]

You're once in any lifetime

will you be mine for eternity?

pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader

content: fluff, comfort, kisses and jokes, proposal, snippets of domestic life with the strongest

a/n: dear anon, thank you so much for this wonderful request i've been giggling the entire time while working on it! hope you like it 💛

6 hours. 6 hours of non-stop shopping, winding through narrow streets and searching for something interesting, beautiful and delicious. In that exact order. That was the usual weekend routine for Gojo Satoru, aka the World's Strongest, aka a little kid who apparently had one main dream in life: to buy up everything that caught his eye.

It was supposed to be a quiet and peaceful Sunday morning, that rare moment when one could behold a truly great wonder –sleeping Satoru, wrapped in a green fuzzy blanket, with his snow-white hair tousled, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, and a trickle of saliva from his open mouth that had already dripped onto the pillow. Not everyone was lucky enough to see him in his own habitat, appearing so defenseless and vulnerable, like a red-listed animal in need of protection and care. He never lost the opportunity to remind you that you were the lucky one to wake up to see such a marvelous sight in front of you as him.

But today the day didn't start so wonderfully, or to be more precise, not it the slightest so: being literally torn out of the realm of sleep by his icy hands, which shamelessly encircled your ankles and were eagerly pulling you off the bed with an unprecedented force for the defenseless and vulnerable, you cried out in surprise feeling the coldness that came over your body in a wave.

"Satoru!" you managed to grab the headboard at the last moment, and now you were trying to wrench your leg from his icy grasp, "what the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm waking you up," a pearly white smile shone on the face of the unscrupulous intruder of your sleep, "time to get up, sleepyhead, otherwise we'll sleep through all the fun," sky-blue eyes glimmered with lights of mischief and in a second his fingers were already tickling your feet.

You squealed, yanking your legs furiously, desperately hoping to get out of his tenacious grip and kick him so he'd never think of waking you up like that ever again. Well, the plan worked. To your own surprise the Strongest was defeated by a precise kick of your heel right in his ribs, and making the sound of a dying whale, he jumped up from the bed, holding his side.

"Did you take karate classes while I was away?" he exhaled, rubbing the injured spot.

"Yeah, got my black belt for just such occasions," you finally sat up on the bed, tucking your legs under the blanket and smoothing back your sleep-tangled hair, "and what fun could we possibly have slept through, huh?"

Satoru's painful grimace was immediately replaced by his usual bright smile, as if he hadn't been pretending to be a wounded warrior a second ago, "shopping!" echoed loudly throughout the apartment, making you cringe.

"Well what is the fun in that," you mumbled, rubbing your eyes and stretching, "my dreams were quite fun until you disturbed them."

"Don't be so booooring," he sang, "besides, everything's already waiting for you" Satoru pulled out two hangers from behind his back, on which two prepared and ironed outfits for today were waiting in the wings. Looking at his beaming face, it was hard to tell him no, and he knew it perfectly well.

And for 6 hours straight, you looped through ornate streets decorated with colorful storefronts, filled with hundreds of people rushing about their business. You could barely feel your feet, somewhere in the back of your mind regretting that you had agreed to this adventure at all, knowing that Satoru certainly wouldn't get tired until he found the very sweets he remembered nothing about but had once tasted somewhere.

To be honest, you had other plans that required a more relaxed and peaceful ambience, but the sheer joy of Satoru put all thoughts on the back burner, replacing them with a pleasant tingle in your chest that made your heart beat faster every time he turned his ruffled, snow-white head to make sure you were holding on tightly to his big hand with your little fingers as he led you through the crowd of people.

Such small but so meaningful details never passed you by, and each time you were convinced that you could never have found a better man than this tall, annoying, but so beloved dummy.

"'Wanna get some cotton candy, sweets?" Gojo led you out onto a less crowded street, now walking beside you and swinging your intertwined hands.

"I would love some,"you smiled, nodding, inwardly pleased that the shopping seemed to be coming to an end.

"Gimme a sec," you walked over to a small wagon where he bought a huge cotton candy bar, so huge that it completely covered your face as you began to chew it, "fank you," you murmured, savouring the sweetness on your tongue.

"You're felcome," he mimicked you, nibbling off a couple bits and putting them in his mouth, making you giggle and nudge him lightly with your shoulder.

You wandered quietly along the embankment, listening to the sound of the gentle waves, feeling the breeze lightly ruffling your hair. You were silent, genuinely enjoying each other's company, talking only with your eyes and smiling involuntarily, as if these six years that you had been together had never happened and you both had just met. The sun was slowly slipping toward sunset, letting itself stare at you at least a little longer, gently stroking your smiling faces with its golden rays. You stopped at the small fence separating the promenade from the water and quietly watched the sky sink into the boundless embrace of the sea, merging into a one pastel-colored expanse, going far, far away, to a place where we had never been.

"Look," a sudden loud voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you flinch and turn in the direction Satoru was pointing his finger at.

"What's there?" you squinted, looking into the distance and trying to see anything, "I don't..." you turned back, seeing a sight that rendered you speechless.

Satoru was on one knee, his glasses no longer covering his magical eyes that were darting across your surprised face, but resting on his head, in his large palm lay a velvet box with a neat ring adorned with little stones shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

"Y/n..." something that sounded like a quiet croak escaped his lips, causing him to cough, his already flushed cheeks turning scarlet before he continued, "will you marry me?"

You covered your mouth with your hand, struggling to hold back the laughter that burst out of you.

"What are you doing?" Satoru tilted his head, "are you laughing at me?" he gasped, pretending to be hurt by your reaction, "when I'm kneeling here in front of you?"

"No, no, no, no," you shook your head, clearing your throat softly and pulling a small velvet box out of your purse, "I thought you wouldn't ask, so... uh...," you laughed harder, seeing his already large eyes widen.

"So, will you marry me, Satoru gojo," you uttered, trying to calm down and holding out a delicate golden band.

"I think so," he grinned, graciously holding out his hand so you could slip the ring onto his finger, "and what will your decision be, dear Y/n"

"More likely yes than no" you giggled, feeling the pleasant coldness of the gold metal on your finger at the same second.

Satoru reached up, pulling you closer to him and with the loudest mwah possible, smacking your lips, "looks like you're stuck with me for eternity, sweets," he smirked contentedly, taking your face in his hands and pinching your cheeks.

"Looks like it, but I'm ashamed to admit it, I don't seem to mind," you giggled, poking his nose and engaging him in the most tender kiss, promising for eternity with every movement of your lips.

thank you so much for reading 💛 comments and reblogs are always appreciated ✨

tags: @rossithepixie @a-nuisance-called-sam @the-mom-friend-dot-com @vagabond-umlaut

[aching-tummies]

Calling stomach-whisperers!

Day 3 of my stomach being a mess?

With the academic semester over, I've been trying to devote more time to crafting. Some friends have commissioned me for cosplay items and I've got a backlog of my own stuff that needs mending or re-making, so I've been working on that now that I don't have papers to write or exams to study for.

Considering how bloated and upset my stomach was yesterday, I decided to give it a break today. I had a light breakfast of the same tossed noodles I made yesterday (leftovers, honestly--I made 2 portions and put 1 in the fridge). I've also been drinking an absurd amount of tea (just leaves in water) in hopes that keeping myself hydrated would flush whatever's upsetting my guts.

I've been working in my crafting room since 10AM or so. Finished the noodles around 11:30AM and have been downing mugs of tea non-stop. It's roughly 5PM now and I've probably had close to a litre of tea throughout the day.

My stomach has not stopped gurgling the entire day. It's still the same "foam" sensation--like…imagine the toothpaste foam you get if you use a ridiculous amount of the stuff--now imagine your intestines completely filled with that foam. That's how it feels to me--foamy. Like someone decided that my guts exist to create milk-foam endlessly.

I took a break from crafting, sat back, and put a stethoscope over my intestines to see how rowdy they were. Dear GOD I've never heard it quite so vocal in my entire life. I spent at least 90 minutes sitting there with the stethoscope in and there was literally never silent for more than 10 seconds. Ear-shattering crescendos, soft, foamy rumbles, pitiful whines, sickly, wet gurgles. Even as I type this, I still feel a near-constant fluttering in my guts as it howls.

It doesn't hurt (much) and I don't feel sick--my guts are just extremely vocal an extremely squirmy and active. As much as I love this, it's super embarrassing (and I'm alone!) that my guts have been this constantly noisy for going on 6 hours now.

Desperately wishing for a partner to mess with my belly--maybe squeeze it and work the upset out? Put your ear to it? Tell me what's going on in there 'cuz I have adult responsibilities to do tomorrow (bank meeting)…If my guts are still this gurgle-y tomorrow, I'm going to die of embarrassment!

So…what would you do if you were here? Stomach-whisperers, care to tell me what's going on inside of me?

[vickytaa]

Until I found you

Summery: You moved from Boston to LA, leaving your best friends behind. A normal day, you were working as always when..

Words: 2.4k

___________________☆__________________

This week has been so stressful. At work, my boss has been a dick and giving me extra hours. The people that came to the Caffè are such disrespectful with everyone, also with the people who work there, like me.

University, it's been hard, I had to stay awake a couple of nights studying for exams.

My family, fortunately, had been so mindful and helping me with everything they could from Boston.

They call me anytime they can and even text me every day just to see how I am.

I miss them so much. Being apart from them it's just so hurtful, and I am just waiting for December so I can go back home.

Xavier, my boyfriend, has been a bit distant. He knows how stressed I am, but he doesn't understand that what I want for him is to be with me now, instead of leaving me alone.

He just doesn't notice.

Monday

6:30 am

I woke up after sleeping only 2 hours because the night before I kept awake studying quimic, half dead.

I start slowly to open my eyes as I extend my arm to turn off the phone alarm.

Another spectacular day, Monday.

I sit up in bed with little effort while I try to wake me up completely.

I grabbed my cell phone to see if Xavier had sent me any messages cause, yesterday he hadn't come home.

We've been living together for a year, and every time we weren't sleeping there, we would make sure to tell the other.

'He might have forgotten,' I thought.

I get out of bed and walk to the bathroom. What will happen today?

I began to take off my clothes lazily and open the hot water for it to start getting warm, and surprisingly, there wasn't hot water.

'Great'

The day just started.

After bathing with ice water, I changed into work clothes, grabbed my keys, and got into the car.

On my way to the Caffè, 'Remember you - by dominurmom' started playing on the radio, and nostalgia hit.

I've always liked music a lot, but this song made me remember all those amazing moments with my childhood best friend, Nick.

He was the best person on earth, and time was air when I was with him. The laughs were natural, and the holidays with him and his brothers were unforgettable.

I haven't seen him for years, but I knew that if we saw each other again, It would be like before.

I didn't remember why we distanced ourselves because we were inseparable, but the distance killed when it's about relationships.

Leaving him to come to LA was the hardest decision of my life because he wasn't part of my life. He was my life.

When I left, I cried a whole month non-stop. My heart hurt every time it beat.

But it was the best for my future, or that's what I thought.

That song made me remember him because we used to love singing it every time we went camping with his brothers.

I missed them.

And I knew it, my body felt it too, my eyes started to fill with happy tears while I remembered us together laughing.

When I arrived, I didn't know whether to get out of the car. Is this what I always wanted?

I shaked my head to remove that thought of my mind and keep going.

4:25 pm

I was finishing my turn when I started taking someone's order.

"Good evening. What would you like to get today?" I repeated for the 53rd time in the day.

"Our friendship back"

I was shocked, I thought he might have confused me with an old friend, but when I looked up to see who it was, there he was, Nick Sturniolo. My best friend from infancy. A huge smile appeared on his face while our connected eyes started to fill up with tears.

The only thing I did was run into his arms and hug him.

It was like having that part of me that was missing again. A void is now filled.

"Oh my god, where have you been? I've missed you a lot, " I said, super excited. "I've been living for a couple of months here with my brothers, we moved to LA"

"Ohh, that's great, and what about your dream about being youtubers?" I asked.

I already knew that they started a while ago making videos, but I never had the courage to search them, I couldn't look at them after leaving them alone.

"It's fantastic, we already hit 6 million subscribers," He said happily.

"What? That incredible!" I stopped just to take a breath,

"It's a cute surprise to see you around. It's been years." I said while smiling from end to end.

When my turn finished, I went out to accompany Nick to his house, just to get to know it, and also to greet his brothers.

I enjoyed the journey as if it were something I had been waiting for for years, singing our favorite songs again in the car, at full volume with Nick.

When we arrived I couldn't stop laughing, we had been remembering hundreds of memories together.

As I entered the house, I saw Chris and Matt sitting on the sofa. A big smile formed in their faces. They couldn’t believe it; they haven’t seen me in years.

I opened my arms as they ran towards me. I hugged them while I laughed of their faces.

While I was trying to get away a bit to take a breath, I said: “you should have seen your faces”

“This was an unexpected surprise” Matt said, still without letting me go.

“Yes, but the best one” Chris added.

When they let me go, they both looked at me, and I smiled until my cheeks started to hurt.

After a while, we started chatting about our life nowadays, but suddenly I saw it. My most favorite board game was kept on the shelf.

“And do you remember when our math teacher told us to - “Chris was telling us when I interrupted him “Oh my god, I can’t believe it! This is our Monopoly game” I screamed with excitement.

I turned around to see Nick smiling at me. He knew that was my favorite game, and he had saved it all these years.

“Its... it’s the real one? Like, ours?” I asked while little tears of emotion were forming in my eyes.

Nick nodded with his head.

I ran to grab it and started opening it to play while the guys were sitting on the couch around the coffee table.

The three of them were staring at me while I was jumping with excitement.

It was a game that transported me years back when we used to stay up all night playing it.

We played for hours until we finished, and I obviously won, I’ve always been the best one, even when we were kids.

When I noticed the time, I saw it was a bit late, so I said goodnight to the boys, and Matt decided to walk me to the door.

In an attempt to break the silence, Matt said “Hey... uhm.. do you remember our first kiss?”. That was unexpected.

Yes, I remembered it. Every time I saw Xavier or felt his lips on mine ones, all I could think of was Matt.

A day before my departure, Matt and I, 13 years old child, lost in each other’s gaze, without knowing what it meant. Looking at each other, he came closer and let fall his sweet lips on mine with unforgettable delicacy and softness.

Our first and only kiss.

It was magic, like a promise, like a ' I don’t want you to go'.

I saw his blue eyes as I approached the door. A pain began to arise in my chest, I wanted to feel the magic again, but Xavier was waiting for me at home.

“I will tell my boyfriend that I got back together with you again, have driven him crazy with so many stories about you” I said. I knew it hurt him to hear the word *Boyfriend* but it was the harsh truth.

His head looked down but came back to look at me “Goodnight, Y/n” Matt said. “Goodnight Matt” I said and smiled at him. I didn’t want to go, really, but it was what I must do.

Our eyes didn’t let go for about 2 minutes until I decided to turn around and start my way home.

I could feel his gaze on me. Taking the blame, I sat on the car, and when I turned my head to look at him again, he was already gone. The door was closed. I understood him, and immediately I left.

When I arrived home, all that I wanted was to lay in bed and sleep, but clearly that’s not what happened.

I opened the door, and the first thing I saw was Xavier standing in the kitchen. He looked like he had been waiting for a long time.

“Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for ages” His tone assured me that he had drunk a lot.

“With some old friends” I said, clearly upset.

I saw him with challenging eyes. His lips parted, but before he could start whining, I asked, “Where were you last night?". He looked at me and shut his mouth with anger.

Ours was not enough, and we both knew it, but none of us wanted to take charge and broke up with the other.

“With my friend Jess. Much more pretty and friendly than you” he said.

I couldn’t believe him.

“Oh, yes?” I asked. He nodded, and I asked again. “So why are you with me and not with her now?”

“Because I wanted to come here to end up with you. Our relationship was over a long time ago. We don’t have the same connection as in the beginning. You are helpless on housework, and you are not as pretty as before. You were careless about your body.”

Wow, I didn’t see that one coming.

His last words echoed over and over in my head as I tried to stay upright.

“She is always pretty for me; she always makes everything for me to feel good.”

I looked at him dead in the eyes while trying to understand his words.

The air that kept me alive began to get stuck in my throat. A knot of fury and disappointment began to form in my belly.

“And I don’t want you to be mad just that you really need to make yourself pretty again. Like when you used to do it.”

How could he be so rude and careless?

My legs started to wobble. Since I was a teenager, I have dealt with all kinds of anxiety attacks but none as strong as this one.

The only thing I could think of was to escape from there or stay, and he leaves from there.

I needed to say something, I was frozen, but the only thing I said was “Go away”

He knew what he said hurt me, and seeing how much he hurt me or just a part hurt him too, but it was the truth.

He looked at me and started walking in my direction, like he was going to hug me or something. When he was standing next to me, I could smell his stinky alcohol breath. He looked up and down and made his way to the door.

A deep silence invaded the walls of my apartment. My heart beat with pain.

Despite this, I would no longer have to deal with Xavier every time he came home drunk.

I was speechless.

I sat on the couch trying to calm down my tears, but it was impossible, my hands were shaking as I try to catch my breath.

Why me?

I knew I wasn’t the best girlfriend, nor the most pretty, but why did he say it like that? Couldn’t he be more mindful and calmer?

Tying to calm down, filing repeatedly.

I felt useless.

The main thing on my head were his last words replaying over and over.

3:44 am

I knocked the door a few times, without waiting for an answer.

I waited for a couple of minutes before turning around to go back to the car when suddenly I hear the door open.

“Y/n? What are you doing here at- “Matt stopped talking as he saw my red eyes because of how much I cried the last few hours.

He moved a little to let me in, and as I walked inside, he squeezed my shoulder trying to get me comfortable.

“How do you feel?” He asked. A simple question that Xavier never asked me before, he never cared, and I didn’t see it.

“Xavier broke up with me. He said I haven’t worked on my body because I was to focus on other things. I am not as pretty as I used to be” While tears came down through my cheeks.

“And you believe him” It wasn’t a question; it was more of an affirmation. And he was right, I believed Xavier.

My eyes went to the floor, I couldn’t deny it.

“You know, when I was a child, I used to believe that I wouldn’t see the most beautiful girl in the world because she would be a top model from Europe, and that was until I found you” Matt confessed.

When I crossed our gazes again, they were filled with an inexplicable shine.

Our click.

“And since our first kiss, you haven’t left my mind” He added.

“You neither mine” I said.

He placed his forehead against mine and he wrap my face with his big hands, without stopping looking me straight in the eyes.

It was just the two of us, no one else.

We both felt like waiting years for this moment to repeat, but now with knew information of what it was. Love.

The magic we felt when we were teenagers revived.

His lips softly placed on mines.

☆☆☆

Dear diary:

It’s been a couple of months since Matt and I kissed again after our first kiss. Nowadays we are together and very, very happy.

I love him with everything I am, and I am deeply in love with him since I met him, because without knowing, he is the only one who takes my breath away every time he is nearby.

I will stick some pics of him to remember.

___________________☆__________________

Heeyyyy, did you like it??

:)))

[gregorygerwitz]

Crochet Commissions!

For those who don't know me, I'm Alex (she/they), and I started the year off with Covid. Because I had to take two weeks off work, I'm really hurting for money right now, so I'm opening up a limited number of slots for crochet commissions to try to fill in that financial gap.

ALL of the materials I use are machine washer/dryer safe

Pictures of my recent work and prices are below. Including: stuffed animals, dice bags, holiday stockings, blankets. As well as: shipping info, custom request info.

For further questions or to request a commission: message me here or email me at crochetbyalex@outlook.com

When I did my poll, most people voted for stuffed animals, and I recently finished a few that I can show my skills with. The blue penguin is my latest finished piece, with the purple penguin the first thing I ever crocheted side-by-side for comparison of how much I've learned in the last ~7 months. The mouse is technically unfinished because the eyes aren't embroidered yet, but I made it in about a day and a half, for timeline purposes.

I also just finished the above dice bag octopus about an hour ago for my roommate, which took about three hours of non-stop work (I turned on a movie and got through the stitches pretty quick). I can make them in any color you want, with either the plastic safety eyes or embroidered eyes. Most of these can be entirely customizable, just let me know what you're thinking and I'll see what I can do!

Dice bags: $10 + $5 domestic (US) shipping Stuffed animals: $15 + $5 domestic (US) shipping optional crinkle filling (washer/dryer safe): + $2 (stuffed animals only)

10 slots total (4 REMAINING)

I don't have any pictures of any of the hats or scarves I've made because it's been a few years, but I made some stockings for the apartment for Christmas last month, and that's one of my most recent projects. The green one was the last one I made, and probably the most accurate to what my capabilities are now.

If you'd like a stocking for Christmas 2024, let me know! I have an unlimited number of slots for them as the holiday is far enough away that the time crunch isn't so rough.

Hats: $20 + $5 domestic (US) shipping Scarves: $30 + $5 domestic (US) shipping Holiday stocking: $24 + $5 domestic (US) shipping

5 total wearable (hats/scarves) slots

The least popular item in my poll was the blankets, which I understand. And I'm only going to open one slot for them at a time because they take so long and so much yarn to make. The wave pattern (both blankets pictured above) is my favorite to do, but I have patterns for most simple designs, or I can likely easily google it and put it together for you. Prices are based on the time and materials these take to make, but because they're so much more expensive than the smaller items above, domestic (US) shipping is free.

Baby blanket (top left): $50 Throw blanket/afghan: $100 Full size (length shown in bottom picture): $200

1 blanket slot (0 REMAINING)

Custom requests:

If there's a pattern you've found on Etsy/Pinterest/etc that you want made, contact me by using the contact information above. We can discuss prices or my ability to accomplish that for you. ***patterns must be CROCHET patterns as I do not knit (yet)*** 5 custom slots total

International shipping:

Let me know when you request a commission where you are located, as shipping prices vary wildly from country to country. I'll go over the actual cost with you before you commit to the commission and make sure the price works for both of us.

Current open slots:

Stuffed animals and dice bags: 1. [FILLED] 2. [FILLED] 3. [FILLED] 4. [FILLED] 5. [FILLED] 6. [FILLED] 7. [OPEN] 8. [OPEN] 9. [OPEN] 10. [OPEN]

Wearables: 1. [OPEN] 2. [OPEN] 3. [OPEN] 4. [OPEN] 5. [OPEN]

Stockings: [NO LIMIT]

Blankets: 1. [FILLED]

Custom requests: 1. [OPEN] 2. [OPEN] 3. [OPEN] 4. [OPEN] 5. [OPEN]

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #19

Riddle's Extremely Specific FOP Problems

Just came from looking at screenshots I'd saved of Dev, like these ones from "A New Dev-elopment":

I don't think I've said this yet, but the funny thing about Dev is that his hair reminds me of how I draw Happy Peppy Gary, who's been one of my main doodle muses since 2016. They both have ginger spikes:

This week I actually redesigned Gary's hair by letting it grow longer and more curly in the back, so I'll keep Dev's short in the back and only spiky in the front.

They have different skin and eye colors, etc., but it is funny that like, 6(?) years ago, I put Gary in a zipper hoodie.

I do a lot of traditional art, and I'm really gonna have to do a sketchpage nailing their designs down so they look different in pencil.

My current Gary design does have a spiral in his hair since I do that for all my witches, and I don't think that'll ever come up for Dev, especially if Dale Dimm really is Dev's ancestor - the one person who's extremely UNlikely to be a witch - so... there's that.

Some old Gary sketches where he IS in his Learnatorium clothes:

I feel like I could redraw any of these poses with Dev, lol. The freckles do a ton of heavy lifting here.

....... I've been writing Ed Leadly and Gary as rivals for YEARS and this is once again adding a cruel layer of irony to my "Ed Leadly as Dev's grandpa" situation.

Every time I see this kid, I see My Boy in him.

They are the same person to me...

The Haunting of Wells House

I like how Marcus keeps calling his daughter Hazelnut. It's cute. I'm glad to see him ready to hunt the "apartment ghost" he's been after since Episode 1.

Hooray for Cosmo and Wanda acting like neighbors!

I feel like they shouldn't be giving a horror movie to a child if they haven't seen it themselves and then walk back to their room, especially since their line of work is about trauma recovery (or at least... helping kids avoid hurt). They should know better than that.

I'm so glad you can see into their apartment from the hall. Literally nothing stops you or hides their magic stuff. You can just do it...

Marcus sniffing the video while fancy dinner music plays is my everything. They're BOTH silly.

I like how Cosmo and Wanda poofed up a TV for the apartment and included cobwebs and spiders on it. I guess that makes sense; they were giving Hazel a horror movie.

Ooh, ghostly lightning spirit of the actress trapped in the video?

Hazel has learned nothing from her last experience of wishing to be part of a TV show. She's 10.

Wait, so... Cosmo and Wanda can hear Hazel's casual wish from across the hall? And poof over?

Uh, maybe we don't tell that to Dev, who just flipped out last episode when Peri didn't show up despite Dev whisper-calling for him when Vicky was putting him to work...

She... Also, I can't believe Marcus left his daughter under a heavy machine for 4 hours.

So far, our only canon fairy death fits the OG series' implied canon that only non-magical items can kill Fairies [i.e. "magic doesn't affect magic" from "Abra-catastrophe"], so I like that.

I don't have much to say. Pepper seems interesting I suppose, and I can probably have her be a friend of Blonda's in 'fic.

I enjoy Jorgen grumpily cleaning up magic messes. That feels right.

... Unclear if Jorgen is keeping a bunch of fairies locked in the basement or if he just has a shelf full of similar-looking items.

[bruh-anator3000]

CAT-astrophic

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A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

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You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

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Check out my Masterlist!

[mercurygray]

For the build-a-fic prompt list: can I request 6, Q, 𓆉/𓅨 for Fred or 12, B, 𓃓 for Cordelia, please? Thank you!

--lestweforget5

Thanks for the prompt @lestweforget5! I've had this idea in my head for a while regarding the Shot Down AU, which you can read the first part of here. I just needed a little nudge (and a day off) to get it down on paper.

12: “try and eat, if you can. it’ll make you feel better.” B: grief 𓃓 : at work, far later than you should be

Trigger warnings: A non-graphic conversation discussing a (possible) sexual assault.

If she was younger, she'd have tried to hide under this blanket they'd given her, if she could. But hiding wasn't going to help much here, even if the fear was just the same as when you were five. Worse, even. She knew how bad it was - and she had a pretty good idea of how much worse it could get.

Cord pulled the wool closer around her shoulders, still trying to take everything in. The last week had been a bit of a blur, too many split second decisions and faces and changes of scenery and none of it anything that made sense. And finally a leather chair in a nicely appointed office, and a well-turned out officer with beautifully combed hair, offering her a cigarette and asking, with a smile, the same question everyone kept asking every single time they saw her - what is a nice American girl like you doing here?

Here - a field near the Weser river, a police station, with a sergeant making urgent calls to his superiors, wondering what to do, the polished office of the Luftwaffe adjutant, being presented a beautiful open silver cigarette case, a prisoner of war camp for downed American airmen. And everywhere she went, everyone staring in a way she could never hope to hide from.

The car had dropped her at the front gate, one of the guards opening the door for her like this was a state dinner and not a stalag. (The officer in the front seat was still smiling. She was going to hate that smile forever.)

A familiar voice from along the fence. "Callaway? Cord Callaway? Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing here?"

She hadn't known whether to collapse or cry. One familiar thing was all she needed, even if it wasn't the familiar thing she longed for. (It had been silly, to think he'd be here. It was a big war.) "Same thing as you, Crank."

Some wiseass along the fence line straightened up. "Is that a girl?"

"Christ almighty." Crank read the crowd and quickly grabbed her arm, quickly throwing his hat over her head. "Let's get you out of here."

Here - a small bunk room with an unfinished wooden table, several benches, and a small stove giving off very little heat, surrounded by men she had, until an hour ago, only been able to hope she'd see again. The curtains were drawn and Benny DeMarco was fussing with a pot of water on the stove trying to make a cup of tea and everyone was silently shuffling around trying to take up as little space as possible.

Everyone except Bucky, anyway.

She didn't know what she'd been expecting, or if she'd even been expecting anything at all. But he'd come breezing in asking about new arrivals, his temple swollen and purple, stopped cold when he saw her, and then turned on his heel and walked straight back out. The last time she'd seen him had been in a hotel room in Knightsbridge, naked and smiling at her across a pair of very flat pillows, begging one last kiss, joking that it should have been him that was leaving for work, that he'd find something to do with himself until she came back, that his train was a late one and they'd have time for dinner.

They didn't have time for dinner. After work had never come - only a note about something coming up, and an earlier train, and now, again, she had so many questions. Why did you leave why didn't you stay what happened to your face Bucky what have they done to you does it hurt why won't you speak to me look at me stay with me where are you going God what have I done.

Another group of faces appeared in the door, and Cord stood up on instinct, seeing the silver eagle on a garrison cap and the way the others followed him into the room, her arm snapping just so.

"At ease." He almost looked impressed. "I'm Colonel Clark - I'm the ranking officer here. I'm here to welcome you to Stalag Luft Three."

"Lieutenant Cordelia Callaway, sir."

Clark nodded and looked around at the others. "Usually we get a little bit more advance notice when there are new arrivals expected, but I think given the circumstances they may have wanted a surprise. I think these gentlemen all know that usually you'd start in the leadership block for processing."

"I thought it'd be better to get her straight inside, sir," Crank said, standing up. "Before the others started something."

Colonel Clark nodded. "Probably wise. I understand you all know each other."

"That's right, sir." That was Gale. "She's one of our traffic control officers, back at home."

"That may be, but it doesn't explain what she was doing on a plane." Clark's patience sounded thin.

"She was a pilot before the war, sir, a derby - "

"-And is she going to speak for herself at some point here, or are you gentlemen just going to keep talking for her? I assume she has her own voice." Clark fixed Cordelia with a clear-eyed gaze, and when he spoke again, directly to her this time, his voice was softer. "I seem to recall there was a Callaway at Wright Patterson for some time. An engineer in their advanced aeronautics research division. Had a daughter who also flew some speed tests."

"That was me, sir. Wilson Callaway is my father."

"They're not stupid, so I assume they asked you about all that already."

Cord swallowed, remembering the long, long wait in the cell, the whispers outside the door. You're not on any of the flight rosters for the plane you were found with, Miss Callaway. How are we to know you are not a spy? There is an article in the Dayton paper about a Cordelia Callaway joining up, and how her father is proud. I am to assume this is you. We are aware of Wilson Callaway's work on alloys - his latest paper was a triumph. A shame it could not be published as it should have been in the better scientific journals. I wonder what kind of father lets his daughter do such dangerous work. But then girls are more expendable than boys.

"Yes, sir." She could feel the temperature in the room drop the same way it dropped when someone talked about classified intelligence sources or Norden bombsights. "I …haven't been involved in my father's research for a while now. Anything I know is old news."

"Do you want to tell me what you were thinking assigning yourself to a gunner position on a bombing run when the official policy is that women don't fly combat missions?"

"I wasn't, sir." The truth, cold and real. "Thinking. And I wasn't tail gunning." That was true, too, and it felt important that he know that. The Germans hadn't been interested in that. "I was front seat. A man was sick and got sent in, and Jacobs didn't want to fly with the guy they were going to send instead. And I wanted to do something, sir." Her voice hitched. "Ten days ago, all my friends were dead."

Clark nodded. "Did anyone touch you during interrogation? Sexually advance or assault you in any way?"

"Jesus, Colonel." Demarco's voice was biting.

"I have to ask so it can be reported to the proper authorities, Captain, " Clark shot back, "And I need to be direct. If something has happened the Red Cross and the Army will want to know." His voice came back down a level. "Please answer the question, Lieutenant."

Everyone was still staring, but no one knew where to look. Cord swallowed and looked the senior officer square in the eye. "No one touched me, Colonel, or assaulted me." A couple of them touched themselves, but not me. I don't speak German but I know what a dirty joke sounds like. And I think by now I know the word for whore. "The worst they did directly is to not address me by my rank, even though I was wearing insignia. And they talked about taking away my uniform, but decided against it. I think it was too much work to find me a skirt."

"They don't think much of women in trousers here," Clark allowed. "Well, I don't have to tell you you've put us in one hell of a position, Lieutenant. There isn't a procedure for this, or accommodation. The Army might have gotten facilities for you but what I have here I have to share among a thousand men. There is no privacy, no guarantee of safety, and no locked doors. When they left you at that gate they made their position on the subject pretty clear - they don't care."

"We've got her, sir." Gale's voice was all calm waters. How did he do that so well?

Clark nodded and glanced around the room. "I'll have a runner come back later to fill out a card for the Red Cross, so your father will be notified. And we'll get you a cup, utensils, see what we can do about some warmer clothes. The others can fill you in on food and sleeping arrangements and the latrine rotation."

He and his group left, and the room seemed to sigh. Cord still didn't want to look at anyone, the question itself still invasive, vulnerable. Did anyone touch you? Were you assaulted?

"Someone say there was a baseball game later?" DeMarco's voice sounded too bright, and the others were too quick to join him, almost the entire room shuffling back outside until it was just her and one other person. (They had been exchanging glances, above her head, a silent consensus that she needed to be alone.) A hunk of what might have been bread appeared at her elbow, grayish-brown and uninviting. "Eat something," Gale suggested, once the room was empty. "You'll feel better. They do that to everyone who comes in."

"Ask about being raped?"

"Well, that …is a new one," Gale allowed. Cord was all tension and coil, angry, frightened, still trying to fight and also to hide. I'm an officer and I know how this works, Gale. I listened to Red's lectures even when I knew I wouldn't need them. I know I'm supposed to be able to tell the Colonel the last disposition of the war in England. I know I'm supposed to have news, that he's supposed to ask me if I learned anything while I was outside, if I had any papers with me, if they learned anything from what I said. But he hardly asked me anything.

And the man who said he loved me didn't ask me anything at all. Maybe he'd forgotten that, the way he'd whispered into her hair as she was falling asleep- I love you so much. But she hadn't forgotten. Hell, it was half the reason she was here. "Gale, what happened to Bucky?"

He took a breath. "I'll let him tell you," he said, as casual as he could be. "There's some tea, here, if you -"

"He's not going to tell me, he wouldn't even look at me." Wouldn't even stay in the same damn room.

The pilot sighed. "Give him time, Cord. It's…a lot to take in. It'll take a few days. Right now he's…angry."

"Angry at me."

"He was angry when he got here," Gale assured her. "He's angry at himself. He's good at that - you know that." He glanced at the stove, moved the kettle off to the side. "We'll make it work, Cord. You know we will. Now eat that, and when you're done eating I'll… give you a tour."

When they returned from their walk the room had changed - games put away and plates out on the table for dinner. At one place there was a knitted cap, laid out carefully, like a talisman. "Bucky thought you could use that," Frank offered, glancing over the top of his book. "Until we can cut your hair, anyway. Said you could have his bunk, too - 'cause it's got a view of the door."

Cord traced the lines of the knitting, and glanced over at the bunk she'd been told earlier was Bucky's, the wooden frame just those few precious inches longer than the rest. The blanket she'd been using earlier was already there, neatly folded. The man himself, of course, was nowhere in sight. How small the world gets - a knitted hat, a hotel bed. Why do you think I got into that plane, Bucky? It was the only way I could say I love you back.

[nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx]

Helpless part 43, however much we fear the truth we must face it

Hi, I guess I'm doing this now...? Will gave it to me with the second Heartstopper book, I don't really know what I'm doing but I guess I'm meant to write down my thoughts sooooo..... I hate myself, I wish I was dead, I'm a freak, I can't even fucking eat for fucks sake what the fuck is wrong with me, the only good part if my life right now is Will an he's bound to leave soon enough. Fuck I wish I had a fag on me but I already know I won't get away with that in the infirmary, it's not that bad but it makes me feel so fucking useless, maybe if I shadow travelled back to my cabin I could get some, Will would fucking murder me but I might do it.

Here is a list of reasons I hate myself because that seems fucking productive:

1. I'm a fag that deserves to burn in Hell

2. I'm dependent on drugs before I can drive (legally)

3. I can't fucking eat like a normal fucking person

4. I hurt everyone I touch

5. I'm a fucking twig

6. I can't even use my fucking powers now that's how pathetic I've gotten

7. I'm a freak

8. I nearly betrayed everyone

9. I'm a shit brother to Hazel

10. I managed to make my own sister hate me

11. I'm a demigod

12. I can't just be fucking happy for once

13. I over think every fucking thing

14. I need my fucking mouth washed out with soap

15. The Catholic Church

I could say more but I don't think I have time for that, I'm gonna go and think about how I can kill myself while locked up in this place

Fuck is my only thought right now, kill me (PLEASE)

Bianca, mi dispiace, mi dispiace di essere quella di cui hai sempre dovuto prenderti cura, quella che hai praticamente cresciuto solo per riaverla. Vorrei essere morto al posto di te, ogni singolo giorno lo vorrei, vorrei poter essere buono come un fratello maggiore che eri per me per Hazel. Vorrei non essere una fottuta delusione, vorrei che tu non dovessi unirti alla Caccia per allontanarti da me. Spero che ti sia piaciuto essere rinato. Mi dispiace tanto per tutto.

Putain, je n’ai pas écrit en français depuis un certain temps, alors voyons si je me souviens encore comment le faire, si mon orthographe est décente, c’est seulement parce que j’ai passé environ une heure à écrire ces conneries, donc vous devriez toujours être déçu. Qu’est-ce que j’écris ? Aucune putain d’idée, mais j’ai déjà lu Heartstopper trois fois aujourd’hui et je pense que c’est trop gay, même pour moi, de le lire plus que cela en moins de cinq heures. Kayla est venue avec de la nourriture plus tôt, aucune idée de l’endroit où se trouve Will et je n’ai toujours pas mangé de merde parce que c’est à quel point je suis inutile.

I really wish I had a smoke right now, but I know I can't, I feel so fucking stressed for too many fucking reasons and my heads been pounding for hours, Kayla gave me a panadol a few hours ago but that did fucking nothing so yeah struggling to not hit my head repeatedly on a wall out of pain. I don't know why but I can't stop thinking about those nights when I was what, twelve? Probably because of the nightmares, I'm fucking useless aren't I? I couldn't even stop it from happening to Hazel, I'm fucking pathetic. Gods I can't wait to get out of this place, I love Will but I don't know how much longer I can take of this place. The bright lights shining into your eyes so much it gives you a headache, the scent of rubbing alcohol filling the room, the plain white walls that feel trapping, everything feels wrong. I know why I'm here, no one trust's me alone, the part they forgot to mention is that I'd be better off dead. I already know Leo, Piper and Jason talked shit about me on the Argo II, I know they all wanted to leave me in that jar, I know that to Percy and Annabeth I'm nothing more than a burden, I fucking hate myself and so do they so why can't they just let me fucking die?

***

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Guys the bold means it’s written, was gonna do underline but that doesn’t work in tumblr xx