#(promise)

[dracula-sticky-notes]

But if we post his letters late, we can pretend the postal system is even more delayed than it actually is. Which means it is significantly less suspicious if his correspondents don’t hear from him for a month, because they can simply assume the horse riding across the continent carrying the letters was misplaced.

Or I’m just coping because I completely forgot about his letters for two weeks and I was really hoping nobody would have caught on.

I'm the flavor of neurodivergent where I am a stickler for timeline continuity. A particularly strong pet peeve of mine. Nothing pulls me out of the narrative faster than when the timeline isn't mathing properly.

Which brings me to today's Dracula entry. Gets me every year.

June 25th entry:

Last night one of my post-dated letters went to post, the first of that fatal series which is to blot out the very traces of my existence from the earth.

HOWEVER.... according to the May 19th entry:

I therefore pretended to fall in with his views, and asked him what dates I should put on the letters. He calculated a minute, and then said:— "The first should be June 12, the second June 19, and the third June 29." I know now the span of my life. God help me!

So, the letter Dracula had Jonathan post-date as June 12th FINALLY went out the evening of June 24th???? When Dracula wanted the last of those letters to go out on the 29th???

Mr. Bram Stoker, I expected better of you.... You couldn't just go back to the May 19th entry and edit the dates Dracula mentioned so they better fit the final timeline you created?

[yooo-lets-go]

Ghostsoap in Polish Army PT uniforms

[teojira]

[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]

Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.

Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!

A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!

Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.

I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.

You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.

He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.

Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.

He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.

You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.

A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.

"What the fuck-"

"Take it."

It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.

"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.

"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."

"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.

Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.

"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.

"...Thank you, Shad."

All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.

Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.

With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.

Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.

You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.

It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.

Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.

You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.

He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.

"No."

"Fuck you mean no?"

"I said no."

"....I don't listen to men."

And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.

That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.

You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.

"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"

"Shut it."

He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.

That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.

"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."

"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."

"I don't understand why I have to-"

"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."

It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.

"...."

"That's what I thought."

When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.

He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.

Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.

Whatever.

After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.

'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.

Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.

You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.

He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.

"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"

Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.

"I wasn't aware I had a time."

"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"

And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.

He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.

Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.

He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.

The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.

The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.

"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.

Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.

It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.

He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck.

You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.

Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.

A beat passes between the two of you.

"...it's good."

Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.

Disgusting.

Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.

He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.

With you, it's a little different.

You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.

Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.

The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.

It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.

His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.

You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.

Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.

Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.

"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"

You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.

"No, you're not."

He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.

The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.

Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.

It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.

A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.

Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.

He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.

[neoheros]

to this day, there are only three things in this world that kuroo tetsuro is deathly afraid of: big spiders, losing the winning point in a finals match, and worse of all, his mean and evil older sister (as he likes to call her).

now, normally, his sister doesn’t scare him at all.

normally, she’d just annoy him so much that he’d just rather pretend she doesn’t exist, and normally, seeing her at the family dinner tonight wouldn’t be so nerve wracking and horrific.

but normally, you wouldn’t have your arm in a bright pink cast, your left hand all the way up to your forearm covered in a hardened plaster.

and kuroo just knows — he knows so well — that it’ll take his sister one look at your injured hand and then he’d be a total goner.

talk about a dead man walking.

there’s a sound of a “clink” made as a plate is set in front of you.

your morning laziness as you lay contently on the couch interrupted as kuroo stands in front of the TV, arms at his hip and a wide, proud smile, donned on his face.

you blink, looking up at him and then down at the dish he set on the table.

you look warily at the plate of seemingly black and gray pancakes (?) in front of you. a small stack of the most ominous looking breakfast you’ve ever seen.

you glance up at kuroo again, still smiling proudly in front of you as he gestures to the dish.

“oh… uhm…” you feel the sweat forming on your temples, “thank you?”

were you supposed to eat this?

kuroo gives you a wider smile at your response, and he pushes the plate closer to you, prompting you to take a bite.

you can’t help the way he looks at you, all proud and happy at his accomplishment of making something that mildly resembles food, and you almost feel bad for feeling anything else but gratitude that he took the time to make you breakfast.

still though … are pancakes supposed to be gray? plus, you don’t really remember seeing any flour or baking powder in the kitchen the last time you checked… and would it really be a good idea to risk eating the world’s scariest pastry right now before the family dinner tonight?

… you pick up the fork slowly with your good hand, cursing under your breath as you recall the series of events that got you in this situation in the first place.

see, two days ago, you got into an unfortunate car accident with kuroo — something about a late night drive for ice cream and an unsuspecting duck who wasn’t taught to look both ways crossing the road.

lucky for all of you though, everyone made it out of the accident just fine — duck included — and the only real injuries sustained were a couple bruises and scratches here and there, save for the minor hairline fracture on your left arm, but it still isn’t anything too serious to fret about.

truthfully, it was the best outcome in a horrible situation, and if the worse thing you can get from an accident is a bright pink cast on for three weeks, then you’ll happily take it.

… but kuroo’s cooking?

“ehem.” he coughs, bringing you back to the predicament you find yourself in.

he’s still staring at you with that expectant smile of his, waiting for you to take a bite of his hard work.

hesitantly, you touch the fork to the pancake and you shudder as it bubbles slightly, a wheezing sound coming from it as you let the fork sink in.

no freaking way. you already almost broke your arm for pete’s sake, you’re not getting food poisoning too!

“it looks really good…” you look at him with a forced smile, “but you know the doctor said i can’t have any of … whatever this is…”

you try your best to sound as miserable as you intend to.

kuroo’s hand falls from his hip, “are you serious?”

your smile is more apologetic now, “such a shame…”

“i made this!” he exclaims, scoffing as he points to his mysterious plate of mystery, “with ingredients and shit! … for you!”

you shake your head at him wantonly, like it can’t be helped, and you thank the stars in the sky when he sighs and pushes the plate of doom away from you.

kuroo gives you a pouty look now, shoulders falling dramatically as he crashes on the empty spot on the couch, and with the TV still going on in the background, you happily welcome him in to your lazy posture, making space as he cozies up next to you.

once he settles, he turns to you, a lot less pouty now that you’re so close to him, and he says, “how’s the arm?”

“itchy.” you shrug, “but it doesn’t hurt anymore, so it’s okay.”

for a moment, there’s a flicker in the way kuroo looks that almost bothers you. eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed into a thin line, eyes sunken and worried.

its the exact same look you’ve woken up to in the past two days in the middle of the night. just suddenly jolting awake and seeing kuroo stare at you so intently. you ask him what he’s doing up and he says something about a nightmare and you kiss him goodnight and the two of you fall back asleep together with his hold on you just a little bit tighter than before.

you bump your shoulder with his, nudging him as you shake your head, “don’t look like that, i can’t have you crying on me again.”

and he scoffs, turning away, “i have never cried. i don’t cry at all. i deny all such accusations.”

(you know though that that’s a lie.

kuroo’s probably cried more in the past two days than he has all his life.

he was a teary mess as he rode with you on the ambulance to the hospital, a teary mess when the doctor said you had a fracture in your arm, and a teary mess this morning when he woke up to you in your cast).

to be honest, these past two days are probably the worst in his life. in such a short amount of time, he’s experienced such pits in his stomach that he didn’t know was possible to feel.

he still feels it sometimes when he closes his eyes, the fear and worry setting in his body as he waited in the hospital waiting room.

kuroo looks at you much softer now, gentler, and he puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “you sure you don’t need me to go with you today?”

“i’ll be fine on my own, i just need to grab a couple of things from campus,” you shake your head as you answer him, and you move in deeper to his side to bring you closer.

even the way he touches you now is lighter — like he’s deathly afraid to hurt you even more.

you turn to look at him, “but it might make me late to the dinner with your family later, maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“that’s okay,” he nods at you, and then he sighs again, as if suddenly remembering something important.

“well,” and there’s a helpless smile on his face, “it’ll give me more time to work on my “why you’re in a cast” story to my family.”

you grin, “yeah? what have you got so far?”

and he tells you, with a hint of a clipped laugh in his voice, “really big bees.”

…. “oh.”

“yeah.” kuroo grumbles, and he sinks deeper into the couch, “they’re gonna kill me.”

he turns slightly to face you, and he points, quite dramatically, “you’re gonna be a widow.”

you push him off, shaking your head in amusement as you watch his dramatization play out, “you’re such a drama queen.”

kuroo shakes his head incessantly, and he clutches his chest with both his hands, “oh, trust me, the first words my sister is gonna say to me when she sees you later in that cast is “how could you let this happen?!” followed by “waiter, may i please have a bigger knife – this one doesn’t seem to pierce my brother all the way.” and then i die.”

you look at him, incredulous, and you shove him away as you get off the couch to stride away from him.

you scoff, loudly, “has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

and kuroo nods his head, following you as he stands up too, “you did — in our vows.”

you laugh, and you push him away again when he tries to get closer to you, “so i got it right then.”

he’s less tense now, less pouty, and seemingly out of things to complain about, and in the morning silence, he pulls you in, the two of you standing in the middle of the living room floor.

kuroo touches your injured arm slightly. the tv forgotten behind him.

all his life, he’s only ever been afraid of three things: big spiders, losing the winning point in a finals match, and his evil, mean older sister yelling at him for allowing you to get hurt after she made him promise that he’d never let anything bad happen to you.

he knows now though that beyond those three, there’s something deeper in his bones that terrifies him deeply. something that scares him so much it wakes him up in the middle of the night in cold sweat. something that ruins his day and something that makes him call you out of nowhere when you’re away from him.

his biggest fear, bigger than spiders or losing matches or his mean sister, is … you.

he’s looking at you that same way again; eyes worried, lips pursed, eyebrows knit together, and you don’t miss the way his mouth trembles slightly as he stares.

“it isn’t your fault, and i dont blame you at all.” you say, and even now as he holds you, you still feel how scared he is to hurt you.

you squeeze his hand. “accidents happen.”

and you can say this all you want, but in his head, at the end of the day, he was still the one driving the car.

but he knows you, and he knows you won’t allow him to think that way, so instead, he just nods, short and clipped and he pulls you in as gentle as he can, embracing you tightly.

kuroo mutters against your neck, “my sister is still gonna kill me.”

you laugh, patting his back with your good arm, “oh, well, some things can’t be helped.”

lord help him for what you’ve done to his poor heart, for you’ve made him deathly afraid of the one thing he can’t control.

something so out of his hands that it sets deep within his bones, ruins his day, and wakes him up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, leaving him desperate and exhausted staring at you helplessly.

his worst fear that terrifies him daily … waking up without you.

[goose-in-ur-area]

[triona-tribblescore]

"Wanna ride?~"

Some more biker Angel au for the masses <3

[tsubaki94]

Dannymay25: Day 20 Pact

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

I'm from a colture that dosn't do pinky promises so when I encountered it in media it took me a while for me to understand it, but now I think it's cute.

[ethelschapel]

[ironhoshi]

I love how even more unhinged this site gets when ao3 goes down. I hope you all survive.

[carrotcakecrumble]

Uhm so someone posted the most picture picture of gerard way on here earlier so uhm i went and drew a 6ft version of it on a wall with spray paint. like what normal people do when they like something, yknow?

[candygirl33]

[gardavwar]

Smells like teen spirit

[weareravershq]

[saywhat-politics]

[alinkthroughtheages]

Prologue pt. 2

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