#(FEEEEEEEEELS BAD

[heylinfanclub]

My Brother, Bearer of BAD NEWS: So Uncle Scott might be dying soon (sends picture of intubated uncle)

Me: great cool cool cool. Maybe that’s why he failed to zoom me last time we planned it. Hhhhhfffffff. Well he’s in California so there’s nnnnething I can do.

[ashennightingale]

google search how do i stop wasting every single moment of my one wild and precious life

[meowmeowriley]

Well. I am now going crazy over Soap showing the team a picture of him holding a brace of fat, fluffy rabbits on his family's farm. The cuts are so clean there's hardly any blood staining their fur, and he's holding them so proudly, big wide smile on his face. And Ghost has some Feeeeeeeeelings about it does he want to hide from that sharp grin? does he want to be one of those rabbits, limp in Johnny's hand? would Johnny enjoy him as much as them?)

excuse me while i scream

😑 I hate you. I hate you, because I love this. (I don't actually hate you, anon, I could never ❤) I hadn't planned on going anywhere with this buuuuutttt.....

The subject of family came up, as it often does, but being on base and between missions, the men of the 141 could share photos.

Price showed the team pictures of himself as a boy, fishing with his dad. Some of him as an adult, more fishing. They'd all dismissed the boonie hat as being part of his wardrobe simply because he'd been issued it, but he hadn't. His grandfather had been issued the hat, and he'd worn it. And Price's father had worn it. And now him. The Price name had a legacy, stored in that hat.

Gaz shared photos of himself as a teen, his sisters, himself with his girlfriend. She was a shifter, though he didn't specify her species at first. She had gorgeous silky black hair, beautiful bronze skin. He said they'd met in Brazil, where she was from, and he was crazy about her. As he flipped through his camera roll on his phone, selfie after selfie of the two, each was more adorable than the last. She clung to Gaz, hung off him in nearly every picture. In some, her eyes were more black, than others. Sometimes she had black claws instead of fingernails.

"Why won't ye tell us, Gaz?"

"I don't want to have to hate you, mate."

"Tell us, and I'll tell you what I am." Ghost piped up from behind everyone.

Price's eyes went wide. He had no clue, though the other two thought he did. It had been erased from his file before they'd ever met, and he'd been denied any time he'd asked. Soap had nearly begged him, on multiple occasions. Gaz took the bait. "She's a spider shifter."

"What the fuuuuck?" Soap whispered. It earned him a smack from Gaz.

"Fuck off, Soap. Go on then, Ghost."

He smiled beneath his mask. "Well I never said when I'd tell you." He was smug, sue him. It earned him a laugh from Price, a groan from his sergeants. Soap took his turn next.

He had a photo album. Clearly well loved. Spoke of his family fondly. "Ah'm one of six, so there's plenty of picture." He was proud of his large family. Showed off pictures of tired yet happy parents, fields and a little farm house. Picture of his siblings. And then he saw it. A picture of a young man, unmistakably Johnny, even though his eyes were too narrow to see the brilliant blue, his enormous toothy smile gave him away. the young teen held a brace of rabbits, both tied by their rear legs together. Bloody noses the only real sign of their demise, other than the fact that they were held upside down by a kid.

It wasn't really a surprise, Soap had been vocal since the task force had been formed about his love for rabbits, that he'd grown up with meat rabbits, that he loved the taste. His mother had even sent him a care package on multiple occasions with rabbit stew, which he immediately tore into. He'd offer to share with the rest of the team. Nobody noticed that all but Ghost accepted.

Soap's voice was muffled. Ghost barely made out something about it being his first time, and he was proud. One of the rabbits had a light grey pelt. Light grey interspersed with white and black, similar to that of some wild rabbits. It could easily be a smaller version of himself. It could be him. The feeling churning within himself, he couldn't place. He wanted to thump, to warn the others, there's danger here... But... That could be him. And would it really be so bad? If it were Johnny to string him up as such?

The page turned.

Ghost started.

He hadn't realized the others were still talking. He couldn't hear them. How long had it been? It was then he realized he'd gone tharn. Instinct had taken over, and like many of his kin he'd frozen in the face of danger. That had never happened to him before. But then again, the danger had never been so tempting.

As the second youngest of twelve, Simon had known from a young age he was different than his siblings. He was off. He had a screw loose. It was always blamed on his father, he and Tommy having a different one to the rest. But Tommy turned out okay. Simon joined the army. In the army his twisted nature suited their needs just fine.

Soap finished up.

All turned to Ghost.

His hands clenched around the book he had stored in the long pocket of his jumper. It was special. A copy of Watership Down, his favorite book as a child and the thing his mother blamed for his desire to serve, but this one was different. When he'd signed up, his eldest sister had gone to the bookshop and bought this one, then had it rebound with photo slots at the end of it. His favorite story, and his favorite people. It contained photos of his family. His mother, eleven siblings, and numerous niblings. Himself. With so many, it was nearly impossible to take a photo where no one was shifted. And it was actually impossible to get one without at least partial shifts.

He swallowed down the instinct to run, and removed his hands from his pocket.

[whentherewerebicycles]

I don’t know how I feeeeeeeeel I’m just jittery and unable to settleeeeeeeeeeee 26 hours of waiting to go bleh. liz & alex are househunting all morning and early afternoon. I need a project to distract myself but also I just kind of want to mindlessly scroll and let myself float in this weird bleh state of limbo. but let’s see how about this:

9-10:30 mindlessly scroll or maybe read fic

10:30-11:30 maybe walk the dogs and listen to a hockey podcast or idk maybe not or go for a short run or something idk

11:30-1 hang out with liz/alex on their break

1-2 shower/get ready

2-6ish hang out… maybe go to the lake… idk

6:30 dinner with everyone + my sister

watch the bear

blah blah that should kill the day and then tomorrow I’ll just have to kill time from like 6am to 10:30am 🫠🫠🫠

gonna talk out some stuff behind the cut

here are the possible outcomes tomorrow:

everything looks fine and my doctor confirms the pregnancy is still viable

doctor determines the pregnancy is ectopic and counsels taking meds to end things

doctor determines the pregnancy is located in the uterus but isn’t developing normally (blighted ovum or missed miscarriage or something else) and counsels a D&C or waiting to miscarry or further testing

doctor can’t make a determination and schedules me for further bloodwork and/or ultrasounds once I’m further along

I decided I wanted to go on my own because I don’t want to feel responsible for managing or responding to someone else’s reaction on top of my own… if it’s bad news I want time to process it by myself before I have to talk to anybody. I am going to walk to the appt tomorrow morning and if it’s bad news I’ll probably want to go on a long walk around the neighborhood to be by myself with my feelings for a while. liz and alex have a couple other viewings scheduled shortly after so I can just wander around till they leave and then go back to the house to be alone for an hour or two. there was a period of time earlier in the week where I thought I wouldn’t get too upset again because I did so much pre-grieving last week when I got the first results back and I felt kinda hollowed out by that, but unfortunately five days of renewed hope and hopeful planning has kinda erased all that pre-grieving and now I think I’ll just be really, really sad again. like I’m already crying about it now and we’re still 26 hours out from any new information. I just want this baby to make it! I just want this to be it! but I know there’s a decent chance things won’t work out. I’m seven weeks tomorrow and still so very firmly in “it’s way too early // the risk of things not working out is still way too high” territory. I just wish I could fast forward to tomorrow morning. it feels like the first IUI cycle where I hadn’t yet accustomed myself to waiting or learned how to stop calendar watching and so every single second just seemed to drag by impossibly slowly. aghhhhhh okay. I just feel like I would feel more if I was really pregnant instead of just intermittently queasy and irritable. but I felt exactly like this last weekend when I was convinced my symptoms were gone and it turned out my HCG levels were busy tripling in that time. so idk idk. just want this day to PASS

[monicaaaaatje]

People, I've just gotten on the Ranger's apprentice bandwagon and MAN my head is spinning with ideas for prompts

A Willys pregnancy fanfic. Just sweet fluff, Will being anxious while she's in labor and then that sweet moment when he gets to meet his kid for the first time.

A Willys pregnancy fanfic in which Alyss has a high risk pregnancy, has probably pregnancy poisoning and Will is dying on the inside.

The day Halt dies of old age.

Will being on the road with Maddie, they fall into a new adventure and he falls in love again, but he's struggling because he feels guilty towards Alyss.

Grandpa Halt. Just that. Just that.

Cassandra's coronation.

Some weird fucked up adventure about magical creatures/being attacking Araluen and it is this bad that even the retired rangers get out of hiding to help out a bit. In the end, lots of trauma.

Will having Horace's back will Cassandra is in labor.

The feeeeeeeeels

[super-rangers]

I’m back from reading chapter 3!

I’ve also just learned that tumblr has an hourly ask limit. I’ve been on this godforsaken webbed site for 13 years. How did i not know this? Lmao anyway im condensing things from here on out so im sorry if the asks are getting longer😂

Starting with the mall scene! I LOVE that Damien and Regina hung out and both were like “yeah let’s not discuss any drama”

Damien so clearly tried to clue Regina in during their trip and I love that for him. “When two people have STRONG FEELINGS for each other” asjsksks Regina open your eyes!!! He tried so hard i think he gave up and honestly hasn’t pushed Regina on the feeeeeeeeelings issue since

While he hasn’t pushed Regina much since this scene, i highly doubt he’s let up with Janis. Do you think Janis has admitted her feelings to Damien (or to herself for that matter) or is Damien just picking up on what is clearly a painfully obvious crush

lol I had no idea there was an ask limit either!!

for them to get along at all at that point, there couldn't be any discussion of drama - clean slate in the mall only 😅

Damian at that point knows that Janis is down bad for Regina, but he's not so sure about Regina herself,,,her being dense about it doesn't help anything lol

Janis has definitely already told Damian about her feelings. It probably came up in a discussion early on about why she's so fixated on Regina. Damian tried to get her to move on, but at this point he's given up on that ever happening

[sarayoonc]

Sara reached for an apple slice and popped it into her mouth while Hyun Woo interacted with her son. It kept her from saying anything, it kept her from showing her discomfort in this situation. No... discomfort wasn't exactly the word she would use to describe how she felt... but how would you call it when your husband blindsided you with divorce papers while planning your baby's nursery and now, five years later, he'd suddenly showed up in your life again wanting to be close to the child? There must exist a word to describe how she was feeling, right? Still, she kept said word in the back of her throat, choosing to find some sweet release in painting time with her son instead of in Hyun Woo's presence there.

"Eomma says it's about the feeeeeeeeeling." Her son's words, as dragged as she would make it so whenever speaking that, as well as his small hand pressed onto her chest, right above her heart, were enough to make her smile again. To pull her attention back to the present and to the little boy who was her everything. "That's right, Hanbin-ah. It's not about talent, right?" Sara asked with both her words and using ASL, always using them both whenever around her little one. To which, he replied with yes in Korean. And, as if her mind had been playing tricks on her, she overheard Hyun Woo talking about the similarities between mother and son, earning him a look from her, as if trying to decipher whether he had meant it as a bad thing or a good one. When it came to Hyun Woo, she couldn't possibly know.

"He does." She nodded fingers brushing gently along the little boy's short hair. "But he looks like you... and that's the hard part." Since Hanbin wasn't as fluent in Korean as both parents were, Sara gave it a try, saying that line in Hyun Woo's mother language, not to raise suspicion from her—from their son. "Have you been fairing alright around these parts, Hyun Woo-ssi?" She asked, as an attempt to keep things peaceful between them. Peaceful, didn't mean friendly. / @hyunwooxseong

His arrival at Wilmington had been both a surprise to Sarang and himself. For years he had been watching his family from afar. His family. How strange to still think of them as something that belonged to him when he had cut all ties years ago. When the woman that he called his wife only regarded him with suspicion. And the son that he had never met did not even know of his existence. Did not even know that the man he was meeting was none other than his own father. His family. How presumptuous to even think of them in such a way.  He had been watching the family that could have been his. That would have been his had he made different choices when they mattered the most. But as in the first time when he ambushed Sarang with divorce, his emotion fueled his sudden arrival in Wilmington as well.

And so, he landed at her doorstep, unannounced. After years of separation and the second promise he made to her broken along with the first, he had all but expected her to chase him out of her town. Instead, she had allowed him to meet the boy that brought him to this city after many years. And pictures, recordings, they did not do justice to the warmth that radiated from their son. Hyun Woo could have never anticipated how well meeting him for the first time would have gone. And since then, he had jumped at every opportunity he got. And he was equally grateful that Sarang allowed him to partake in activities that she would certainly not want him to be a part of. The warmth that he had once felt from her, he now felt from their son.

As he approached the picnic blanket that they had set up, Hyun Woo immediately broke into a wide smile at the sight of Hanbin and the flash of recognition that crossed his son’s eyes. He did not know his identity. But he knew him. And that was already more than Hyun Woo ever imagined a few years back when he first started to receive reports on the whereabouts and wellbeing of his son. He’d relegated himself to a life of watching from afar. Now, he was instead being dragged along with Hanbin. “Hanbin-ah, be careful. I’m coming, I’m following you.” He kept with the boy’s pace and they covered the distance in a few short strides.

His eyes went from the enthusiastic and lively boy to Sarang. His smile did not falter, but it softened slightly. From excitement to gratitude. “I appreciated the invitation. Thank you for allowing me to join,” he responded with the same honorifics that she used, taking a seat beside their son. “But Hanbin-ah,” he began as the boy offered him a pad of his own and paint. “I'm not very good at painting,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, observing the pads between both mother and son. “He takes after you,” Hyun Woo vocalized, unaware it was aloud while observing Hanbin who had resumed his artwork. // @sarayoonc

[animalinvestigator]

soon i am a casket. thank god

[livelaughlovekill]

damn I'm gonna binge the fuck out of my partners' blogs once my internet is fixed and I can view images c

[mgs3pe]

healthy coping mechanisms are great but god if i don’t want to just smoke a giant fucking joint rn i can’t do this anxiety thing lmao

[vantogh]

Duele

Me dolió en el alma saber que era la última aquí con esperanza, me dolió en el pecho tener tantos sentimientos de los que dices, terminarán en nada.

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Summary: Ladybug shows up to return his lucky charm. Adrien should've put on something other than a towel. (Ladrien identity reveal fic)

Word Count: 2600

XXX

“When you walk away, you don’t hear me say, pleeeeeease, oh baaaaaaaaaby, don’t go!”  he sang over the spray of the shower.  The acoustics in his bathroom made his voice bearable.  He knew his singing wasn’t the greatest, but there was nothing like being able to let lose and caterwaul in the comfort of a warm bubblebath.

“Simple and clean is the waaaaay that you’re making me feeeeeeeeel tonight, it’s hard to let it go—” 

“Hey, kid—don’t scream, it’s just me—”

Adrien swallowed his shout as he dove under the bathwater.  Soap went up his nose, and he coughed it back out.

“Plagg!  What did I tell you about barging in while I’m in the shower?”  He hugged his knees and scowled.

The kwami lounged on top of a bubble, his paws crossed behind his head.

“Relax, I’m thousands of years old.  I’ve seen plenty of naked Chat Noirs before.  And keep your voice down.”

“What?  Is there an akuma?  Plagg, claws—!”

Plagg flew up to his face, pressing a tiny paw to his lips.  “Shhh!  You’d be better off with her seeing you naked than suited up!”

Wait.  Her?

“Why didn’t you tell me someone was here?”  he hissed.

Plagg rolled his eyes.  “I was trying to.  Someone was too busy screaming and hiding in a pile of bubbles to listen.”

“Who is it?”

“Oh, no one important.  Just your little lovebug.”  He grinned.

“Ladybug?” 

Oops.  He probably shouldn’t have shouted that.

“Oh, uh—I’m sorry!”  Her unmistakable voice filtered through the door.  “I can come back later if this is a bad time!”

“N-no!  It’s never a bad time to see you!”  Even if he did want to just sink into the bathwater and drown at the thought of her hearing his wailing earlier.  “Just give me a second!”

Plagg cackled as Adrien turned off the shower and hastily wrapped a black towel around his waist.

“Oh no,” he groaned, scanning the empty counter.  “I didn’t bring my pajamas in.”  From now on he’d always keep a change of clothes on him, just in case Ladybug ever decided to drop in.  

“Eh, it’s not like she’ll complain at seeing you in a towel.”  Plagg shrugged.

Adrien flushed from head to toe.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t like he had much of a choice.  If Ladybug was here, it had to be for something important.

Making sure his towel was tied securely, he cracked open the door.

“Ladybug?”

“A-Adrien!”  She leaped back from his bed.  Had she been… sniffing his pillow?  Ugh, Plagg must have left his Camembert to ferment under there again.  She probably thought he was a disgusting slob.  He could only hope she’d catch a whiff of his freshly-showered scent and change her mind.

“Do you mind passing me my clothes?”  he asked with a nervous grin.

“Oh, er—yes, of course!  Clothes!  That’s what people wear after showering…”

Was she okay?  He couldn’t remember ever seeing her so flustered.

Before he could tell her where his pajamas were, she was rummaging in his dresser...  and then she was pulling out his red-and-black-spotted underwear. 

Was drowning in the bathtub still an option?

“Nevermind!”  He stepped out from behind the door.  “I’ll just, uh, wear this towel.  It’s more comfortable anyway.”

She dropped his underwear back in the drawer.  “Er, if you insist!”  She grinned widely.

For a moment they just stood there, staring at each other, while Adrien slowly died inside.  Then he noticed her eyes flicker to something on his shoulder.

“Huh?”  He tried to turn his neck at angle to see whatever it was.  He’d just showered; what could be stuck to him?

“Let me,” Ladybug said, rushing forward to brush off his shoulder.  A red rose petal drifted to the ground.

“Oh, haha, where did that come from?”  He ruffled his wet hair.  There was no way he’d admit that he enjoyed bathing in rosewater.  She’d think he was just a snobby rich boy for sure.

(Even if at least half the reason was so that he could smell nice for her.)

He cleared his throat loudly.  “So, um, what can I do for you?”

“Right!”  She smacked her face, and then she flipped open her yo-yo. “I just noticed that you left this behind at your photoshoot when the akuma attacked today…”

She pulled out a red string of pink, blue, and green beads.

“My lucky charm!”  He nearly dropped his towel in his rush to take the charm.  “Thank you so much, my—Ladybug.  I don’t know how I lost it.  This charm is so special to me.”

He cradled it to his chest in relief.  Though at least part of it was probably silly superstition, he always felt better with the charm on him.  

“R-really?”  Her face reddened.  “Why’s that?”

“A really good friend of mine gave it to me.  I always take it to my photoshoots for a bit of extra luck.”  He rubbed the beads between his fingers.  He didn’t have any pockets to put the charm in, so he tied it around his wrist.  “But… how did you know it was mine?”

“Oh!  I must have… ah… seen it fall out of your pocket?”  She ruffled the back of her hair, disheveling her pigtails.

He leaned in closer.  Why did her nervous face look familiar?  His Lady usually seemed so composed.

“Are you lying?”  He grinned, a bit of his Chat slipping out.  

“What?  Psh, no.  It’s not like I know you in real life or anything—that would be crazy!  I’m just—I’m a fan of fashion, so I might have been watching your totoshoot glosely before that akuma attacked—”

“Totoshoot?”  His brow furrowed.

“Exactly, the grotoshoot.  So—you’re charming, I mean—you’ve got your charm back, so I should put a shirt on—I mean—YOU should put a shirt on, and pants, and underwater—underwear!  Which I’m not going to touch again, so.  So I’ll—BYE!”

Adrien should’ve cut off her ramble sooner.  But each garbled word out of her mouth felt so familiar. He couldn’t help trying to place it.

“Wait, Marinette!”  He grabbed her wrist before she could unhook her yo-yo.

“What?  Is something else wrong?  Or did I just sound like such an idiot you don’t trust me to protect Paris anymore—”

His heart sped up as he enfolded her spazzing hands in his.  Marinette.  That’s who her frantic stammering had reminded him of.  And she’d responded to his slip without missing a beat.

“Of course not, my—Marinette.  I’ll always trust you.”

Her eyes blew wide beneath her mask.

“Wha… what did you just call me…?” 

“Marinette,” he repeated, the name sweet in his mouth.  “You’re Marinette.”

“N-no, of course I’m not!  Marinette’s waaaay too clumsy to be a superhero, psh.”

“You gave her the mouse miraculous.  You obviously didn’t think so.”  He smirked and crossed his arms.  The beads on his charm clinked together in her stunned silence.

“You—what—nobody knows about that!  Nobody except—Chat?”

Oh.  Crap.

“Hehe.  Oops?”

She smacked her forehead again.

“Careful, bugaboo, I wouldn’t want you to hurt your mewtiful face.”  He grinned against the rising panic.  Why did he say that?  Why was his gut instinct to pun in times of emotional crisis?  Ladybug knew his identity!  And from the blue-screening look on her face, she wasn’t thrilled about it.

“Oh yeah, you’re Chat Noir alright.”  She groaned and pressed the heels of her palms to her forehead.  “I can’t believe I’ve been staring at Chat Noir’s chest!”

“You—you were?”  He giggled hysterically.  “Like, staring because it’s a nice chest?  Or because it’s just kind of there and I should really put a shirt on because this is weird, isn’t it—?”

“Adrien, your chest is more than nice.  But it might be a good idea for you to put on a shirt before I drool all over your floor.”

They both locked eyes, equally shocked that she’d said that.

“I—you wouldn’t happen to have a bathtub I could drown in, would you?”  she croaked out.

He laughed.  “Not a chance, bugaboo.”   

“Maybe he could kill you with his singing instead,” Plagg said from where he was hovering by the bathroom door.

Adrien and Ladybug both jumped.  Of course Plagg had overheard all of that.  Adrien found himself turning the same color as his Lady’s suit.

“Excuse you, Adrien has a wonderful singing voice,” she said with a pout.

“I—I do?”  He blinked.  “You���re sure you actually heard me?” 

Chloé had always made fun of his voice.  His father wouldn’t let him audition for voice acting positions with singing roles.  Even Plagg, who had an… interesting voice himself, could hardly stand Adrien’s singing.

“Of course I did!  I mean, um… what’s the answer that makes me sound the least weird?”

He laughed, shaking so hard the towel almost fell off.  Again.  He tucked the corner of it more securely against his waist.  He should really go ahead and get dressed, but he was afraid Ladybug—Marinette!—would disappear the second he took his eyes off of her.

“I’m the one standing here in a towel, and you think you’re weird?”

At that, she laughed back.  “I’m the one who didn’t let you get dressed!”

“I’m the one who didn’t let you get my clothes because I was too embarrassed about you seeing my Ladybug underwear!”

She collapsed back in his computer chair cackling.  Both of them were redder than her suit by that point.

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are both disgustingly in love.  Unless you’re going to smooch my kid while he’s practically naked, you should let him get dressed.”

“In—love?”  Adrien squeaked out.  “Ladybug?  In love—me?”

“Can dish it but can’t take it, huh?”  She stood and smirked while leaning into his space. 

He licked his dry lips.  If Marinette wanted to play that game, he wasn’t going to back down now.

“I can take it,” he said quietly, his lips centimeters from hers.  “As long as it’s you doing the dishing.”

“The only dish I want is a nice dish of camembert,” Plagg complained.  But for now, Adrien ignored him.

“Hmm.  Let’s see about that.”  Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, leaving tingling trails where her suit brushed bare skin.  He was going to pay for procrastinating getting dressed.  If he was unraveling already, there was no way he could handle whatever else she planned to throw at him.

Her lips brushed his.  It was just the faintest touch, but it set his heart pounding.

“Is this okay?”  She asked quietly, her voice suddenly turning shy.  “I know we always joke together, but if this is too weird, or—”

“Marinette.”  It came out as a rasp.  “If you don’t kiss me right now, I might actually die.”

Her laugh fanned out across his collarbone.  “Well, we can’t have that.”

She kissed him.  Really kissed him, her lips interlocking with his, hands roaming down his bare back, and oh man he was wrong.  He might have died if she didn’t kiss him, but he was definitely going to die now that she did.

He held her tighter, tilting his head to allow her better access.

To think that just minutes ago, he hadn’t known his Lady was Marinette, or that she was in love with him.  And now this.

He finally pulled back, needing to breathe before he melted into a vaguely Adrien-colored puddle.  Another jolt of ecstasy shot through him when Marinette continued to chase his lips.  She pouted when he laughed.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who might die without kisses,” he teased.

“If you’re trying to embarrass me, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that,” she said even though her face was still bright red.  “You already heard me say totoshoot.  And you saw me sniff your pillow!”

“That’s just today.  Don’t forget the time you kissed me while I was pretending to be a statue.”

Her eyes widened, and she pushed him back.  His chest felt cold where she was no longer pressed to him.

“Too soon?”  He asked, though he couldn’t help grinning.  He should’ve known she was in love with him.  Why else would she have acted like that?

“It will always be too soon.  I vote we pretend that never happened.”

“But Marinette, don’t you want to be molded together in the plaster of destiny?”  He batted his eyes innocently.

She dropped her head into her hands, hiding the adorable blush there.  “That’s it.  I’m leaving.”

“But I thought we were going to be entwined for eternity!”

She looked torn between laughing and punching him.  He would’ve welcomed either.

“It sounds like someone doesn’t want any more kisses.”  She crossed her arms instead, turning her back to him.

“Nooooo, Marinette!  Anything but that!”  He draped himself over her back, arms dangling over her shoulders.  “I hope I didn’t upset you.  I just think hindsight made it hilarious, but I’ll shut up if you really want me to.”

“I don’t think you could shut up if you tried.  But that’s okay.  I love you just the way you are.”  She pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Warmth spread through him from head to toe.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.  You think I’d make out with just any shirtless guy?”

“Hmmm.  I guess you have a point.”  His hands played with the string of her yo-yo around her waist.  “But I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to prove it again.”

She took hold of one of his hands, spinning him so they were face to face again.  “Go put on some clothes so I don’t have to worry about knocking your towel off, and then we’ll see.”

He blushed again.  He’d better get used to that though.  If he got any more kisses from Marinette, the color of her suit would rub off on him permanently.

“I can live with that.”

He dug out his pajamas—including his Ladybug underwear—and darted into the bathroom.  

“Are you happy now?”  Plagg asked.  It took a second for Adrien to spot him, snuggled up in one of Adrien’s black hand towels next to the sink. “I sure heard a lot of gross smooching noises back there.  You think I can use this to plug my ears?”

The kwami held up a q-tip and snapped it in half.

Adrien cast a glance back at the door, where he heard Marinette giggling on the other side.

“Could you keep your voice down?”  He hissed.  “And no, don’t do that.  You’ll hurt yourself.”  He took the broken q-tip and tossed it in the trash.

“You better get me some real earplugs if you’re gonna keep this up, then.”

“Done,” Adrien said while pulling his shirt on over his head.  “I’ll do that and get you that special sprucewood cheese if you leave us alone for the next hour.”

“Deal!  Good luck, loverboy!”  Plagg waved.  “I think you’re forgetting something, though.”

“Huh?”  Adrien’s hand was already on the doorknob, but he turned around and saw his pants still lying on the counter.  That would’ve been awkward.  “Thanks, Plagg.  I’m kind of surprised you didn’t let me just embarrass myself though.”

“Nah.  You can do that plenty well on your own.”  The kwami grinned.  “I still think she’s lying about your singing voice.  You could scare off akumas with that.”

Adrien stuck out his tongue.  It didn’t matter what Plagg thought.

On the other side of the door, Marinette was waiting.  And no matter how embarrassing he was, she still loved him.

[insanegirl-xo]

This broke ass bitch is going to be making a bad financial decision

I can feeeeeeeeel it in my bones.

[strictly-confectional]

feeeeeeeeel like shit dont know what to do about it bad when i need attention bc idk how to express that i do and its not anyones like. idk. job or anything but boy im bad at being on my own and ive exhausted a lot of like... solo stuff i feel like doing rn but. idk.

[10minalltoowell]

The way "mad woman" and "i did something bad" make me feeeeeeeeel

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

And last but certainly not least on @monotonous-minutia’s list, Act II of Le nozze di Figaro in 50 lines! Thanks!! ❤️

Countess Almaviva: My husband’s cheating on me so Love just give me some relief or let me diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie thanks

Susanna: That creepy count was trying to make “a business proposition” to me. Some business proposition, trying to make me sleep with him. Anyway, why is he so upset about you supposedly cheating if he’s the one cheating?

Countess: Because he’s a dude. Screw the patriarchy tbh.

*Figaro enters.*

Figaro: I HAVE AN IDEA let’s get the Count to think that the Countess is having an affair (so that he’ll be distracted) and let’s dress up Cherubino as a girl because META anyway and get the Count to think he’s Susanna so we can catch him red-handed!

Susanna and Countess: despite our initial reservations which are well-founded this isn’t a bad idea tbh

*He leaves and Cherubino comes in.*

Cherubino: I LOVE THE COUNTESS AND I’M GONNA MISS HER AND OH COUNTESS YOU’RE GONNA MISS ME BY MY HAIR YOU’RE GONNA MISS ME EVERYWHERE OH YOU’RE GONNA MISS ME WHEN I’M GONE

Countess: Good song there, but can you sing the one you wrote?

Cherubino: Okaaaaaay. ‘I have a lot of weird feeeeeeeeelings...I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS I WANT YOU TO SHOW MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE’

Susanna: Good job (just like with everything else you do)! Now, Figaro told you-

Cherubino: Everything. Here’s my commission.

Countess: welp they forgot the seal so it’s not official anyway let’s give you a makeover (and shut the door because people are only down with onstage cross-dressing in this day and age, unfortunately)!

Susanna: Chin up- no, down! Move a little this way, now that way, look straight ahead OKAY STOP BEING SO CUTE

*She leaves.*

Countess: Now, Cherubino, why do you have my ribbon?

Cherubino: Well I cut my arm and cuts heal better when they’re bandaged with pretty ladies’ ribbons. It’s a law, don’t you know?

Countess: Here, let me bandage it up. And have courage! Don’t be like all the other men. Be good and sensible-

*There is a knock on the door.*

Count Almaviva: WHY IS THE DOOR SHUT women should have no right to any sort of privacy or autonomy lol

Countess: oh no I’M JUST TRYING ON SOME CLOTHES AND SO WAS SUSANNA JUST NOW HOLD ON A SEC geez. Men.

*Cherubino hides in the closet and the Countess opens the door, letting the Count in.*

Count: What’s this paper- *a noise comes from the closet* YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE A LOVER BECAUSE JEALOUS BARITONE HUSBAND LOGIC WHO IS IT

Countess: Relax it’s just...Susanna trying on her wedding dress. Don’t go in. Looks like you’re incredibly upset. Meanwhile, I am calm, cool, and collected. Take a hint, would ya? Don’t cause such a ruckus.

Count: Very well. There’s one way to settle this. I’ll get tools and force the door. And you’re coming with me.

Countess: ugggggggggh fiiiiiiiiiiiine

*The Count and Countess leave and the Count locks the door behind him.*

Susanna: CHERUBINO OPEN UP IT’S JUST SUSANNA RELAX

Cherubino: *running over to the window* I’M GONNA JUMP not to kill myself don’t worry but I would die for her and I’m jumping out to protect her!!!!

*He jumps out the window and runs off.*

Susanna: Wow, what a fast runner! Now let’s go spice things up a bit.

*Susanna hides in the closet as the Count and Countess come back.*

Countess: FIIIIIIIIIINE THIS WAS ALL A TRICK TO TEST YOU AND CHERUBINO IS THE ONE IN THERE AND HE’S DRESSED AS A GIRL I AM INNOCENT

Count: ugggggggh not that stupid page again uggggggggggh no wonder about the intrigue set up in this note it was totally foreshadowing and you are SO GUILTY BECAUSE THAT IS OBVIOUSLY THE LOGICAL CONCLUSION TO MAKE

*The Count opens the closet door to find-*

Count and Countess: SUSANNA?!?!?!?!?! WHAT IS GOING ON HERE

Susanna: *whispering* Hey, Countess, before you ask, Cherubino is okay.

Countess and Susanna: YOU ARE A CRUEL FOOLISH MAN UNDESERVING OF PITY

*Figaro casually strolls in.*

Figaro: Hey, let’s have the wedding now!

Count: Actually, before we do, *he shows Figaro the letter* do you know who wrote this?

Figaro: I don’t and despite the fact it seems you have evidence to the contrary, I’ll go ahead and continue as if nothing has happened because why not

Susanna and the Countess: Ix-nay on-hay the-hay an-play; the-yay ig-jay is-hay up-hay.

Figaro: ...You know I don’t speak Italian. Anyway, let’s have the wedding now!

Count: Oh, ‘let’s have the wedding now’, you say? Come on out, Marcellina!

*Antonio runs in instead because apparently Marcellina has never seen any reality shows and doesn’t know that means she has to enter.*

Antonio: SOME LITTLE PERSON JUST JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW AND BROKE ONE OF MY FLOWERPOTS

Figaro: I DID IT and before you ask people look little when they jump we all know this it’s a scientific law

Antonio: WHAT ABOUT THESE PAPERS

*Figaro takes the commission.*

Figaro: Oh. Uh...Cherubino asked me to get the seal on it.

*Marcellina just now got her cue and runs in with Bartolo and Basilio.*

Marcellina: LISTEN TO US WE HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY

Count: Finally! They’re here!

Figaro: You’re all big stupidheads because I can’t come up with a better insult.

Marcellina: FIGARO SIGNED A CONTRACT SAYING HE HAD TO MARRY ME AND I FULLY INTEND ON CARRYING THAT OUT

Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess: wait WHAT

Bartolo: HE SAID THAT IF HE DIDN’T REPAY HIS DEBTS HE HAD TO MARRY HER AND WELL HE HASN’T PAID UP SO HE HAS TO MARRY HER

Basilio: I CAN ATTEST TO THAT

Figaro: WELL THAT’S BECAUSE THE ECONOMY SUCKS AND WE’RE BARELY GETTING PAID AND INTEREST IS SO HIGH SCREW YOU

Count: Okay let’s look at the contract and work this out I obviously don’t have an ulterior motive

Figaro, Susanna, and the Countess: THIS IS THE WORST DAY EVER

Marcellina, Bartolo, and Basilio: THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER