#i am the worst at meter okay

[incoramsanctissimo]

I shared a poem I wrote to the family group chat and NO ONE SAID ANYTHING except my mom, so I'm putting it here too and if it's really that bad I need y'all to tell me cause I really never know 😭 like literally just say "its bad" and I won't be hurt. I just want to know.

What does it take to fix a life?

Coffee and croissants at the rising of the light,

Jam lucis orto sidere.

The taking in of the coldest air of the day

After the suffocating night.

A rectangle of paper marked Tuesday the third

Laudate Dominum de coelis.

From a long-dead saint, a few words—

From you to God, another word.

Another word, a morning meeting of the soul

Deus misereatur nostri.

A plan for dinner, a plan for breakfast

A plan to fulfill this given role.

Ut cum dies abscesserit

Preparing to bear this boulder uphill again,

But ready for the rolling down

With these measures taken to make the burden sweet.

[igotanidea]

The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader

A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.

***

“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”

“I’m holding a book…?”

Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.

Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

There were so many dangers on the way after all.

Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)

Speeding carriages.

Stones on which she might trip and fall.

Too much sun.

Too little sun.

And worst of all-

Members of the ton.

It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.

And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.

“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”

“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice

“It’s heavy.”  

“It's a 200 page novel…”

“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.

“Anthony…”

“Y/N.”

“I can hold my own book.”

“We got servants for that.  In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.

Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.

“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.

Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.

“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.

“Anthony…”

“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“

“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“

“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“

“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his  feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”

“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“

At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.

“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”

“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”

“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”

“But-“

“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”

“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.

“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.

And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.

“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.

“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.      

“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.

“Depends.” She chuckled

“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.

“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”

Anthony smirked.

“I will do that, even if you say no.”

“Then why the question?”

“Testing your knowledge.”

“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”

“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”

“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.

That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.

And now-

“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”

“Then why are you-?”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.

“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”

Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.

“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”

‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.

“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.

And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright. 

[mooniiify]

when we were young | wriothesley x reader

synopsis: their first years at the fortress of meropede were hard, but wriothesley will always find a way to take care of his girl word count: 1.2k cw: fem!reader, kinda angsty? fluff mostly, use of y/n, not proofread sorry folks notes: came to me at like 1 am last night, i'm so down bad for this man and i don't even have him in game sigh; also this is kinda the ‘what if’ version of another story that’s currently in the works hehe

She was used to the monotonous lifestyle at this point. Three years had passed since their sentencing. She could still remember as she stood next to Wriothesley in the Court of Fontaine, listening to Iudex Neuvillete announce to their seventeen-year-old selves they would be going to prison for killing their adoptive 'parents'. 

They weren't her parents. She'd only been with them for four years and never had she seen them as anything less than monsters. She wasn't sorry for taking their lives. Neither was Wriothesley. They were okay with the sentencing. 

Three years of living in banishment at the Fortress of Meropede, hundreths of meters underground, with no access to the outside world, yet she has never been happier. She liked the motonous lifestyle. She liked her job at the Fortress, she liked helping people, but most of all, she liked seeing Wriothesley at the end of the day. 

She still sometimes longed for the freedom the outside world provided, of course. But as of right now, her eyes kept glancing at the small clock on her desk, watching as the hands of the clock move seemingly slower with every minute. 

The infirmary has been mostly quiet the whole evening. She'd been stuck with the later shift, meaning she would spend most of her night waiting in case someone came in with an injury or sickness. She wasn't the only nurse, but she was the youngest, so the others always gave her the worst shifts. She couldn't complain, not when her social status was much lower. 

Her legs were crossed, the one on top swinging lightly. She let her head fall back, letting out a sigh. Was there seriously no one getting injured today? Usually there would be a lot, especially about this time. Those Pankration Ring people--

Footsteps echoed from outside right into the infirmary. Y/n stood up at that, making her way to the stairs. Just as she was about to go up to investigate, three people appeared in front of her. 

Her eyes widened as she watched two inmates basically drag Wriothesley into the infirmary, his head hanging, his messy hair covering his eyes. 

''Oh my Archons.'' Y/n immediately moved to the side, allowing the two men to walk down the stairs as safely as they cold. ''Come on, bring him to the bed.'' 

Wriothesley groaned as the two men laid him down on one of the beds, Y/n quickly moving to his side to inspect the damage. Other than a bruise, his face looked okay, but he was clutching his side. She moved to touch around his ribcage, eliciting a wince out of him when she pressed against his lower ribs. 

She looked at the two men. ''What the hell happened?''

''I'm fine,'' Wriothesley groaned from under her, holding her wrist with one of his hands. 

Y/n ignored him, waiting for the men to speak. ''It's Pankration night,'' one of them finally said. 

That was all the information she needed. Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Thank you for bringing him. I can take it from here. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening.'' 

The two men left without another word. Y/n lifted her hands over Wriothesley's body, chanelling her Hydro powers. Small streams of water appeared above Wriothesley, which she slowly lowered to his chest and the bruise on his face. She looked at his face, watching as his expression relaxed gradually the more the water healed him. 

As soon as she felt that his pain was gone, she willed for the water to disappear. Her hands fell back to her sides as she watched Wriothesley sit up, dangling his legs over the bed. Their eyes met. He gave her one of his charming smiles. ''Thank you, darling.'' 

''What were you thinking?'' Y/n crossed her arms, watching as his grin fell, realizing he was, in fact, in trouble. ''Why were you fighting again? You know how much I hate seeing you hurt.''

Wriothesley chuckled. ''You should've seen the other guy. I won!''

''This isn't funny, Wriothesley.''

''No, not funny at all, darling.''

Y/n sighed, running a hand through her hair. ''Where's your Vision? Why didn't you use it to protect yourself?''

''I can't go against a normal person with a Vision, Y/n. I can't look like a sissy. Besides, it's not fair,'' Wriothesley explained as he finally stood up. Y/n looked up in his eyes, not saying anything. Wriothesley moved his hands around her, pulling her body flush against his. ''I can handle myself without my Vision, Y/n.''

''I know you're strong, Wrio. I just . . . I hate seeing you like this.'' She raised her hands to his cheek, gently caressing them with her thumbs. His bruise was gone now, but the old scar under his eye remained. She traced it with her thumb, feeling as Wriothesley melted under her touch. ''I don't get it. Why do you insist on fighting?'' Wriothesley was quiet. Oddly quiet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. ''What is it?''

He licked his lips. ''I just . . . I thougth that maybe, if I could make extra coupons by fighting, then neither of us would have to take on as many shifts and . . . we'd have more time for each other.'' 

Y/n blinked once, twice. She felt his hands tighten around her. 

''You're the only good thing left in this world and you've been so busy here recently, I've been missing you.'' Y/n's hands dropped to his waist as one of his moved up to her face. His fingers were gentle as they ran through her hair. ''You're only here because of me. If anything, I should be making sure you're not working at all.''

Her chest felt like it was about to burst. She leaned on her tip-toes, pulling him down so their lips would meet. She felt his hand fully move to the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. His lips were warm but slightly chapped, but they were his, and she wouldn't have it any other way. 

She pulled back soon enough, watching as Wriothesley's eyes fluttered open. ''What was that for?''

''Because I love you and I hate seeing you beat yourself up for things that aren't your fault.'' Y/n pressed her hands against his chest, looking up at him with a smile. ''You have to talk to me about things like that, Wrio. I'm sure we can figure things out together, if only we can discuss it.'' 

''But I want to take care of you.''

''I know you do,'' Y/n breathed out, her smile remaining. Her stomach felt like it was doing flips. How could she be so lucky to find someone so caring as Wriothesley? ''And I appreciate that. But we have to take care of each other, Wrio. There's a reason why there's two of us in this relationship.'' 

Wriothesley hummed, slowly nodding his head. ''Okay. If you . . . really don't want me to fight, then I'll stop. We can figure this out.''

''We will.'' Y/n pulled him back down, murmuring against his lips. ''Together.'' 

i may or may not have an idea for a part 2?

[kaely1916]

ONE FOOT IN THE TOMB👣❤️

Context: during a case. Edwin steps on a bomb that destroys ghosts. Charles is far from well.

"Fuck."

"W-what happened?"

*Charles immediately panicked. Edwin almost never cursed, so whatever caused him to do it now, couldn’t be good.*

"Charles, don't move! Crystal, come closer if you’re so kind."

*Crystal approached and, following Edwin's instructions, confirmed what Edwin feared. There was a rare spore capable of consuming and killing ghosts just behind his left foot.*

"Charles, I need you to get a book from our office."

"You’re crazy if you think I’m leaving you here alone, mate."

"As long as I stay in the same position, everything will be okay. Besides, I want you as far from me as possible right now."

"🥺"

"You know what I mean."

"B-but—"

*Charles tried to get closer to Edwin.*

"NO, Charles, step back! You know how dangerous this situation is. I want you far from me if the worst case happens."

"Don’t you EVER say that again. Not when the worst case means your existence being banished."

"Charles..."

"NO, Edwin! I’m not going anywhere without you."

*Charles said, sitting on the floor a few meters away. Eventually, Crystal had to go to the office on foot, which was hours away.*

"You’re being incredibly ridiculous and stubborn."

"Yeah, yeah, sure thing, mate."

"I’M SERIOUS CHARLES!"

"SO AM I! There is no way in hell I’m leaving you alone. So shut it and bear it, because I’m staying."

*Edwin couldn’t do anything more than what Charles said, while his chest warmed from the other’s words, giving him hope that everything would end alright. But as time passed, everything worsened, and even when it shouldn’t be possible, his legs began to tremble from supporting his weight in the same position for so long.*

"Fuck... Charles, I need you to listen to me and do exactly what I say."

"Mate, I already told you that—"

"CHARLES! I can’t even feel my legs anymore... I’m not going to bear it for much longer. Please, please, PLEASE, I need to know that you are safe, that you will be okay. Please, just leave."

"...Edwin, like I already said, there is no future in where I leave you here, mate."

*Charles said in a sweet voice while walking toward Edwin, ears closed to the other’s pleads and screams. Until he was right in front of Edwin, his arms rose to embrace him in a tight hug, allowing Edwin to rest his weight against his body.*

"You are such an incorrigible nincompoop."

*Edwin said, his eyes watering as he gave up and rested his body in the other’s embrace.*

"Hehe, I haven’t heard that one in a long time... Just remember that we are together in everything, in this too."

"Quite literally right now, thanks to someone."

"What can I say? It seems like I can’t be apart from you."

"Really, Charles? You think now is the moment for your foolish flirting?"

"Oh, excuse me, Mister 'I’m confessing my love on the stairs of hell.' Besides, don’t act as if you don’t love it~"

"I don’t. I think it’s almost as horrendous as using a vegetable as an affectionate nickname."

"Pff are you still mad about me calling you ‘Pumpkin’? It’s cute, like you."

"I strongly disagree."

"Whatever you say, mate, whatever you say. Just remembe, toguether until the end of existence do us apart"

*Charles said, kissing Edwin’s head and enjoying the happiness of their embrace. Some time later, when Crystal returned with an antidote to save the situation, she found the two ghosts holding each other as if their lives depended on it. Which, to be fair, in this situation, they kind of did.*

The End~

[nkogneatho]

okay since you said yes.

toji never failed to charm women with the minimum effort. he would always notice signs of flirtatious behavior and tones that women reciprocated back. that was before me.

after he fell in love with me, he had nothing on his mind except the word "pasi". i am convinced. the smart assassin has actually incorporated himself to being stupid at times. he couldn't notice how people ogled at him when he walked looking so fine. but i did. and i hated every second of it.

look. i get it it's one thing to try and flirt with a handsome man you met at a supermarket. i mean shoot your shot girl. but it is another thing to keep on trying even after noticing the wedding ring on the man's finger. it made my blood boil. and you know the worst part? this 6'2 tall dumbfuck that i was in love with did not even dismiss her. because he is so oblivious now. he doesn't pay much attention to women other than me, let alone their playfully sweet tone. and that is what made me more mad. i scooped closer and overheard him giving stew tips to her. he said something witty along the lines that barely made me chuckle but her grazing her hand over his arm as she laughed too loud and long, made me want to kill her. get your dirty hands off my man.

before i could swoop in, toji had finally caught onto what was happening. he moved his arm away from her and looked at her with an ice cold expression laced with a little bit of disgust. i liked it. "excuse me. i gotta go find my wife." unaware i was just a few meters away from him, faced away but still peeking.

"how about we exchange numbers?" is this bitch for real? i thought. god i was already fantasizing about slamming her head into a wall.

"funny how we just met and yet you disgust me. whore yourself out to another man." he walked away as he saw me. i was a little mad earlier (a little? pfft— sure) but his coldness towards others turned me on even more. knowing he just melts for me fills my panties with wetness and short circuits my brain. fuck. i could be a titanic and he could be an iceberg but i had already melted the heck out of that iceberg before it could drown me. but...i wanted him to drown me in him. i wanted to sink deep into him.

[oneshotnewbie]

heyy!!! i don’t mean to seem eager or like i’m spamming you, but i have a second request if that’s okay! if you’re comfortable, i’d like it to be an x child!reader unless you feel the need to change it to fit your idea of the story better, or whatever makes you comfortable, in which i don’t mind.

reader is Emily Prentiss’ daughter, who is around eight or so and reader is a little daredevil. like, she climbs on things and does these little stunts that scare emily half to death, so she’s always scolding her about it? maybe one day reader ends up doing one of her little stunts and gets hurt – nothing major, just a scraped knee or something, and emily cleans her up and explains why she can’t be doing things like that because it’s dangerous and she could get hurt again? reader tearfully agrees and promises not to do it again, or just something along these lines. i hope you keep your motivation, and are doing well, you’re a wonderful writer!

thanks!! - 🍄 anon

ᕚ---ᕘ

Emily sat on a wooden park bench in front of a small playground while the first warm rays of sunlight filtered through the leaves of the trees. The sounds of children playing in the background and the happy chirping of birds formed a harmonious melody. She breathed the scent of the first blooming flowers and freshly mown grass into her nose, watching you play on the climbing frame, fueled by a childlike energy that seemed limitless.

"Honey, please be careful! And don't even think of climbing the trees, love!" She shouted to you as she stressed trying to stay calm while reading a book.

You were a little daredevil with wild curls on your head, ignoring your mother's admonitions and deftly disappearing from her sight to climb a low branch of a nearby oak tree. Your mother sighed and shook her head uncomfortably, not understanding your indomitable need to explore the world. This made Emily particularly anxious, making her heart soar every time she walked outside with you.

"Y/n y/m/n Prentiss! If you don't get down there now, there will be no ice cream for the rest of the week!" She scolded, her voice laced with a hint of concern as she finally tossed the book back into her bag, deeming it pointless to even try to read the first page of it. Emily stood up with a sigh and walked over to you, who was already sitting on the branch, looking up triumphantly and giggling happily to herself. "Oh mom, I have everything under control. Look how high I am!"

"You may have everything under control, but I'm not so sure I have it," she stood on her toe-tips, leaning on the thick trunk of the tree and reaching for your small hand. "Please come down, you little daredevil, before I have a heart attack from being anxious."

You cleverly climbed down again, jumping the last few centimeters into the arms of your mother, who was holding her arms outstretched towards you. Your eyes were still shining with excitement as you sat on her hips and wrapped your hands around her neck. "Mom, look. I'll show you something else I can do."

You wriggled out of her arms and before your mother could say anything or continue to hold you, you began attempting a shaky handstand that you seemed to have copied from the older kids on the lawn a few meters away from the playground. Emily held her breath and didn't look away from you. You swayed menacingly and her fear increased as her mind turned to the worst possible outcomes that could happen if you couldn't keep your balance. But you managed to land on your feet again and beamed proudly at your mother.

"See, Mom. I said I could do it!" You announced happily, clapping your hands together in joy. The black-haired woman couldn't help it and sighed in relief. "Yes, yes. You are really brave, my little devil. But please do me a favor and be careful. I don't want you to get seriously injured and have to go to the doctor. You hate doctors."

You nodded seriously and understandingly before running off to go on the next adventure, banishing what your mother had said to the farthest corner of your brain. Emily shook her head with a smile and thought about how much courage and desire to explore you had and where it came from in the first place. Life was like an endless playing field for you, full of possibilities, and she couldn't deny that deep down she was proud to have such an adventurous daughter.

Worried, she sat back down on the bench and tried to read her new novel once more. You continued to rage around, your energy inexhaustible. And this time, your mother had no idea that the second half of your adventure would be different.

Only minutes later, she heard a surprised, long scream followed by sobbing noises and your voice calling loudly for her. Her maternal instincts kicked in and she quickly jumped up to see what had happened. You sat on the floor, your hands clutching a scraped knee. "Y/n! What happened?" She called out worriedly as she rushed over to you.

"I fell off the wall, mom. It hurts so much!" you sobbed and she immediately knelt next to you in the sandbank to carefully examine the scraped area. Her slightly cold fingers ghosted over your injured skin and as she tried to blow the scratchy sand out of the wound, you began to cry. "Oh dear, that looks really painful. But don't worry, mommy will take care of it."

Emily stood up from her crouch and lifted you back up onto her hip. Your tearful, wet face buried itself in the black-haired girl's shoulder while your hands wrapped tightly around her neck and didn't want to let go. With you, she walked back to her seat and carefully sat down with you on her lap.

She quickly rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a disinfectant spray, zinc ointment and a plaster. As she carefully cleaned and treated your knee, she couldn't help but quietly explain to you how important it was to be careful. "You know how much I love you. Right? That's why you really need to be more careful. These small but dangerous adventures could seriously hurt you. You could hurt yourself more than you can imagine."

With tears in your eyes gently falling down your cheek, you looked up at her, simultaneously playing with a lost strand of her hair that strayed in front of your face. "But it's so much fun. I just wanted to see if I could climb it."

Emily let out a sigh as she carefully stuck the band-aid in place. "I understand it's fun, darling. But safety always comes first. You can have other fun without getting hurt. Mommy is very worried about you."

You lowered your head, rubbing your dirty and grimy hand at your eyes to wipe away the usual tears that remained. A feeling of regret washed over you. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again and if I do, I'll call you so you can hold me."

Emily gently stroked your hair and smiled comfortingly before placing a big kiss on your forehead. "This is my brave little adventurer. I know you're learning and understanding. Sometimes we just need to protect ourselves from ourselves. And since you can't do that yet, I'll do it for you."

You nodded and got up from her lap. She straightened your shirt and pants after the fall, patting them a few times to remove the dust from the sand from you before you took her hand and pulled her to the slide, where she was supposed to slide and swing with you for a few laps.

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part three)🌹

Part Two 🌹🌹

Summary: You've always been kind hearted yet admirably defiant. Or that is at least one of the ways Coriolanus Snow would describe you. Ever since grade school, you have always been on the same level as him in academics and one of his few competitors for the Plinth Prize. But as tragedy struck your family, Coriolanus thought you would fall away from his life, but instead, you got even more intertwined (not to mention the complicated past knots tying your families together).

Warnings: Terminal illness, parent death, death and brutality (it is the hunger games after all) characters may be ooc. I read the book a while ago but don't really remember much of Snows way of thinking (I mean I know its toxic and insane but yk the other things) so I will mostly be basing off the film and my own thoughts. Also I can't spell for the life of me so be prepared for bad spelling and grammar. Enjoy loves!

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what is happening. why am i doing this. why am i doing this. Coriolanus couldn't stop the parade of panicked thoughts going through his head. Each step he took was possibly another step closer to the ruin of his name and family for good. But you wouldn't tell anyone. No you wouldn't. You wouldn't right?

You weren't really in the best of states before they made it to your home, but now you seemed far to awake for his preference. If you were still in your slightly delusional state, you may not notice the cracks in his walls, the mold seeping through the ceilings, and the ever permanent stench of poverty.

You and Coriolanus have long let go hands as he let go once the realization that he was taking you to his rugged home. His hand began profusely sweating and he began walking at an increased pace due to his nerves. You were lagging behind, having to run every few meters to catch up to his long strides.

You could tell he was immensely bothered and uncomfortable with the current situation and you simply couldn't take it anymore. "It's okay Coryo, I will be fine. I really appreciate your invitation but there is no need." You say to him in the slightly chilly night air. He turns around at your words and noticed you stopped and are a bit of a ways behind him. He quickly shakes his head in disagreement and sticks his hand you toward you.

You give him a gentle smile paired with a gentle shake of your head and begin to turn around and walk home. Seeing your movement, Snow quickly rushes to your side and puts his hands on your forearms to stop you. "Really it's not that bad, I'm sure that's the worst of it and -" "I said you are coming home with me and I meant it y/n. You need one night of proper sleep." His hands still on your forearms as he turned you around in the direction of the streets leading to the Snow home.

"Will you be able to sleep?" You say quietly, barely audible. He turns to you, his handsome face confused. You take his expression as an invitation to elaborate. "This entire time you haven't said a word and seem paranoid and worried. You are fidgeting and seem to be in a battle with yourself in that head of yours. I don't wish to be a burden to you Coryo or your family. Whatever the reason may be that is worrying you, you don't need to tell me or show me. I'm going home, your gestures of kindness have been enough. You've taken care of me enough for tonight."

He stared at you for a few moments, seeming to gather his thoughts and convert them into words. No, he hasn't taken care of you enough. If he had, you wouldn't be out in the cold at who knows what hour at this point, with deep bags and a hollowed face. He wished to take care of you more now than he wished to keep his wealth (or lack there of) a secret. But then again, Coriolanus Snow couldn't just risk everything for you. He had his family and future to take care of.

But as you were waiting for him to respond, your waves of sleep deprivation hit you as you began swaying, nearly losing your balance. The boy was quick to notice and held you to steady yourself for what felt like the millionth time that night. But he wasn't complaining. He liked the feeling that he was stabilizing you. Protecting you. Saving you. And in that moment, he decided that you were worth the risk.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

The streets were empty as you and the curly blonde haired boy walked in comfortable silence. He had his arm around your waist, in fear of you falling, of course. Or that is what he would say if you objected, which you didn't. You once again were lost in your head but thinking about the moment you were in with Coriolanus made you break the silence.

"It was rebels." If Coryo was willing to trust you with whatever was waiting ahead in his home, you were willing to trust him with the truth about your mother. You felt his eyes on you but you kept your forward as you continued. "My mother's condition. The war destroyed our home so we moved with little money left. It wasn't a very big or lavish apartment but it was enough for me qnd my mom and the few staff we had left. My father was out in the districts, rebuilding his empire and wealth so we didn't see him very much. One day, my mother was moving a few objects around and the floor broke by "accidnet".

The scoff and hollowness of your voice was harshly apparent. "The floor exposed a water well, something we needed as you remember how hard it was to find clean water even years after the dark days. Everyone in the house claimed a miracle. A second one in those days." You stopped your story to gulp back emotion. Coriolanus took note as your eyes became glossy but you pushed the tears back. He wanted to stop your story if it made you uncomfortable but then again, he was trusting you with factors that made him uncomfortable, why shouldn't you do the same?

You continued "She was pregnant. I dont know if it was going to be a boy or girl, it was too early. But because of her state, we all agreed that she would have the water exclusively from the well. How they knew of her pregnancy and infiltratied our home I don't know. But about three weeks of drinking the water, she woke up in pools of blood. One from her mouth as she choked blood up but she didn't care once she saw the blood between her legs. The scream she had that day is what I hear every time she opens her mouth now in pain. That's why I threw myself into that project. I don't care about the Plinth Prize if that's what you were thinking. We all know you deserve it the most."

You wrapped up your story at the same time you both reached his home. He let go of your waist and stepped right infront of you. Both pairs of eyes looked deep into one another's. "I'm so sorry y/n. For everything and for not helping earlier. But maybe it will give you some relief that not all of us are without scars and suffering." He looked up at his once magnificent family home in shame. You followed his eyes and for the first time, took in his home. The place he ate, slept, and lived.

You noticed the deep cracks in the walls, the broken windows, and flickering lights. But even with all that, it brought a small genuine smile to your face. He trusted you. You were going to be in his home. He trusted you to be in his home. You turned your head and met his eyes with a look that made your smile vanish. He seemed upset and slightly harsh, translating to his next words.

"Why are you smiling" oh. He must think that you smiling because you were going to expose him. Once the realization hit you, you were rushing to explain. Mumbling and cutting yourself off, you explained to him that his trust brought the smile to your face. "I would never betray you Coryo. It just feels nice knowing that you trust me, I know there aren't many people on that list." You were right. The only people he truly trusted were in the shambled and barely hanging on apartment above. And you clearly trusted him with explaining the story of your mother.

He began moving towards the door, opening it up for you but you stopped infront of it and turned to him. "I know my words won't mean much and won't replace your situation, but for what it's worth, you have something most of our peers don't. Most of us had to move or renovated our apartments so much they look like a completely different one. You however, have your ancestral home. All the Snow generations have lived in the very place you do and you get to keep the tradition going. I think that's a wealth none of us can reach." You give him a shy smile with the notorious duck of your head and walked in.

He stood there for a little while, stunned. He had never thought of his breaking apartment like that before and your sincerity made his shame dissipate a slight bit. With a satisfied smile, he lead you up to his house.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

A/N: hey guys! Hope you all liked this new part!! I meant to extend into scenes into the apartment but I think I will leave it for part 4 and get this out there sooner. I hope was close enough to Croyos thought process. I know he isn't a great guy but I think in the beginning he wasn't really evil, just morally gray. So I tried to do some sort of balance idk. Anyways I'm just ranting at this point, have a great day loves❤️

@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹 @notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear 🌹

[digitaldiarystuff]

I Can’t Let You Move On

i really don’t know how i feel about this one🥺 but hope you enjoy and lmk what you think

————

pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Y/N

summary: Trent is your ex and when he sees you with your new boyfriend, his possessiveness gets the best of him

genre: angst (asshole trent which we love)

————

“I think I just saw Tyler.” Anne screamed over the loud music for you to hear.

“What?” you asked in shock. “Tyler as in…”

“Tyler as in Trent’s brother Tyler.” she clarified and your blood pressure dropped immediately with the mention of his name. You haven’t heard it in a while.

Anne looked at you with concern in her eyes and was about to say something when you were interrupted.

“Hey ladies, here are your drinks.” Jack said in a cheery manner.

Jack was your boyfriend of 2 months and it was going well, he treated you good and was head over heels for you.

And Trent… Trent Alexander Arnold was your ex. He was your first real boyfriend but sadly, his life only consisted of his football and home and you could never get him out of his shell. You tried to make your relationship more enjoyable for the both of you but your attempts were unsuccessful because Trent never liked to go out. This wasn’t enough to end a relationship of course but soon, you started feeling like he wasn’t even trying to do things you’d enjoy and his lack of effort put an end to it all. The break up was heartbreaking and petty and you haven’t spoken to him since. This was nearly a year ago and Jack came in to fill the void of Trent, though he was seriously lacking in some parts but you could never admit it to yourself.

You grabbed your drink from Jack and started looking around to see if your worst nightmare was happening, Jack and Trent coming in contact. Surely, he wouldn’t be here, right?

“I think someone’s in the VIP section. Do you want me to go over there and check?” Anne asked once you were far from Jack.

Anne always understood you better than yourself and you didn’t even have to ask her. You quickly nodded and off she went. You shouldn’t care if Trent’s here or not, you mumbled to yourself. You are not with him.

Anne quickly came back and sadly informed you that all of Trent’s mates were in the closed off section but she couldn’t see him.

“Maybe he didn’t come, you know how he is.” she tried reassuring you.

“Yeah, maybe.” you said.

“Let’s go dance.”

You grabbed Jack and pulled him into the dance floor hoping to get your mind off Trent. You didn’t even care because you were in a happy relationship and nothing can change that. Song after song you danced with Jack swaying your hips to the rhythm and he was having the time of his life while holding you close but soon, your phone started going off. It was your mom.

“I’ll be right back.” you quickly said and stepped out the club to answer. The street was quieter than usual.

“Yes mom, I’m out now but I’ll text you when I’m at home. Okay love you too.” you hung up the phone and enjoyed the chilly weather on your skin. It felt so much better than inside.

“Look who it is.” you heard a voice you could never erase from your memory. It was Trent.

You turned your head to the side and spotted the man making his way towards you. There was a wide smirk displayed on his lips. You haven’t seen or heard from him in a year and now there he was, in all his glory. He looked devastatingly handsome and as much as you hated yourself for it, you couldn’t help but check him out and he realized. This only made him smirk harder, he stood less than a meter away from you.

“Trent” you flatly said.

“I see you’re here with someone” he said nonchalantly but it sounded more like a question. You were shocked that he was going straight to the point.

“Yeah I am” you simply said not wanting to get into it. Were you trying to hide the fact that you had a boyfriend or were you mad at Trent for asking an intrusive question?

“Well, it’s going to be hard on him.” he teasingly said and you furrowed your brows. He leaned against the wall of the club while you stood straight across.

“What?”

“When you realize he’s nothing compared to what you used to have, you’ll end this little first date and poor mate will be crushed.”

You were starting to get annoyed seeing his smug face. You always knew Trent was a little full of himself but he was trying to imply your relationship will end soon which made you mad.

“Actually, he’s not my date.”

He looked your way encouraging you to finish what you were saying.

“He’s my boyfriend Trent.”

You expected him to get mad, yell or simply leave but his response was more insulting than anything. He just started laughing and it seemed genuine which made you even madder.

“It’s cute.” he said in after his laugh slowed down. “How you try to replace me with him.”

“I’m not trying to replace you, I’ve just moved on” you said but suddenly felt the need to hurt him for not taking you seriously. “And honestly, it wasn’t that hard.” you added just to spite him and it worked. Trent’s demeanor made a complete 180 and his smile disappeared.

“You’re lying to yourself Y/N and you know it.”

“No Trent I think you’re lying to yourself, you thought I could never get over you but all it took was a few dates with different guys. I found the one I’m looking for.” you knew you were being mean but he deserved it after talking to you the way that he did.

He was getting angry and you could tell, he slowly came close and stopped so there wasn’t much space between you looking into your eyes with so much intensity. You wanted to act tough and show him you really meant what you said but him being this close to you did wonders. You could feel his breath on your face and he knew you better than yourself. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and you were shaking slightly, Trent’s existence always had this effect on you.

“Keep telling yourself that.” he smirked. “Maybe it’ll come true.”

He turned away to go in but this time, you didn’t let him.

“Why are you trying to ruin this for me?” you asked with clear desperation in your voice and Trent turned back around.

“I’m not”

“Yes you are, I’m finally moving on and here you are trying to remind me you exist. What, is this just a sick game for you?” you couldn’t even comprehend his antics.

He examined your face with such an intense look and once again walked over to you in the nearly empty street. His face was humorless and even a little scary.

“No, this is not a fucking game Y/N. None of this is fun for me, believe me. You belong with me, you know you can’t move on. Maybe this makes me toxic I don’t care I can’t let you move on, you’ll always be mine and you know I’ll always be yours.”

You were too stunned to speak with his sudden confession, you didn’t expect his possessive side to come out like this but every word he muttered was being engraved in your head and deep down, you knew he was telling the truth.

You couldn’t move on, neither could he. You belonged with each other and there was nothing you could do to change that.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith knew it was coming. It would be foolish to pretend otherwise. Lance doesn’t mind his own business regularly, but this involves him directly — of course he’d interrogate Keith about it. Keith can’t blame him.

“You know what this is about,” Lance says softly, walking over to sit next to Keith on the bed. It speaks volumes to how miserable Keith must look for Lance to approach this so calmly. Lance is great in a crisis, sure, but he isn’t usually gentle about it. He’s usually very firm when he’s explaining exactly how you fucked up. (And then endlessly kind in the hours he spends helping you fix it. But that’s neither here nor there.)

Keith sighs, forcing himself to look over at Lance even though all he wants to do was crawl under his bed and die in a puddle of mortification.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Talk to me, hotshot,” Lance prods, patting Keith gently on the hip. “One second you’re growling at everyone who smiles at me, big bad Galra fangs out and everything, and now you’re running away from me. We can’t have that, Red. We’re a team, now.”

Keith swallows roughly. He wishes more than anything, right then, that Shiro was back, and he didn’t have the burden of team leader on his shoulders as well as… this.

“I talked to Kolivan, like you said,” Keith whispers. “Uh, turns out we were both wrong. Apparently I’m going through Galra puberty, and presenting as a —“ he makes a face — “as an alpha.”

Lance blinks. “An alpha? Like a… wolf?”

“Kind of?” Keith huffs miserably. “It’s sign of sexual maturity, I guess. A secondary gender. Some present as alphas, some as betas, and some as omegas.”

“Okay…” Lance says slowly, “so you’ve presented. How does being an alpha equate to you acting all bonkers?”

Keith winces. Lord above, he wants to do anything but have this horrible conversation. “The whole point of the secondary genders is to mate, basically. Um.”

Lance starts to grin, very clearly taking a good amount of pleasure in Keith’s misery, because he is the king of schadenfreude.

“Oh, I see.”

“Shut up and let me finish my explanation,” Keith says hotly, but Lance only laughs.

“As I was saying. Because the whole purpose is to mate, we gets these — things. Mating periods, called ruts or heats.”

Lance giggles. Keith smacks him.

“Stop it. It’s not funny.”

“S — sorry,” Lance says, clearly not very sorry.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Whatever. The gist of the matter is that since I have presented as an alpha, I am in my first rut, and my dumbass monkey brain has decided that you’re a picturesque omega. It feels like my brain has latched onto any and all feelings I have for you, turned the horny meter up to eleven, and went ham, so I’ve admittedly been a little jealous.”

“Oh, Keith,” Lance says, and promptly loses his shit.

So much for being Keith’s right hand. So much for having his back.

God, why is Keith so gone on this asshole again?

“This is betrayal. I’m feeling very betrayed right now.”

Lance wheezes.

“I bare my most embarrassing conundrum to you, expecting sympathy —”

He wheezes harder.

“You — you dumbass —”

“And instead,” Keith says loudly, “I get mocked about something I cannot control. You are the worst.”

“Aw, baby,” Lance coos, finally getting himself under control. And, like. Lance calls Keith ‘baby’ all the time. It shouldn’t be a big deal.

But apparently, now that he’s a stupid alpha, it is.

Keith melts, slumping completely forward into Lance, and starts basically purring.

Lance snorts. “This part of that alpha shit too?”

“I don’t know,” Keith wails, reaching blindly to grab one of Lance’s hands and place it on his head. Thankfully Lance gets the hint and starts gently playing with his hair. “I just know that I’m horny all the fucking time, I get blindingly jealous every time some jackass looks at you wrong, and I want to simultaneously whisk you away somewhere where no one can ever hurt you and bend you over the nearest fucking table. Fuck.”

“Well, that last part isn’t new,” Lance says, and Keith can hear the stupid grin in his voice. “But I assume the rest of it is your brain deciding that I am your omega, and as such, the mate you must protect if your potential children are to survive?”

“I guess so,” Keith mumbles. “Sorry.”

“‘S’okay,” Lance assures, leaning down to press a kiss to Keith’s cheek with an exaggerated ‘mwah’ noise. “It’s the sashay, I think. I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass. Mamá always told me it would attract unwanted attention.”

Keith snorts. “Once again, Mamá McClain knows everything.”

“Mhm.”

Lance is quiet for a while, running calloused hands through Keith’s hair. He’s quiet for long enough that Keith is half asleep when Lance suddenly gasps, accidentally yanking on his hair in his excitement.

“Ow, babe, Jesus shit —”

“I have a plan!” Lance announces excitedly, ignoring Keith’s complaints.

Despite himself, Keith grins.

“You always do.”

“Yep! I know how to solve your whole big bad alpha schtick. C’mon. Up you get.”

Keith would love to say it’s because of his newfound weirdo hormones that he gets up and follows Lance immediately, without question, or pause. But unfortunately he knows that he was whipped as hell before presenting as an alpha, and will remain whipped as hell long after.

“Where are we going?”

Lance turns back to face him from where he’s dragging them out of Keith’s room and down the castle’s hallway, brown eyes

twinkling with mischief.

“To the training room.”

Keith narrows his eyes. “How is that going to help? Is it — are we going to do the sparring foreplay thing again? I thought Hunk said that was forbidden after he caught us making out.”

“We’re not going to do that,” Lance says, rolling his eyes like Keith is somehow the dumbass here, “duh. Even though it was kind of fun. But you’re getting all grisly and jealous because you’re ultra-protective right now, right?”

“Yeah, I think.”

“Well, then how about I lay you out on your ass fifteen or so times in the ring, and then your hindbrain knows I’ll be perfectly fine protecting myself?”

It’s not a bad plan. Lance has always been the logical one to Keith’s rampant emotion, and this plan is no exception — if Lance were to prove that he has no problem kicking ass, then Keith doesn’t have to worry anymore! It makes perfect sense!

But Keith knows that’s not all it is. For all the alpha-protective garbage his brain is doing is annoying and probably demeaning, Keith knows it comes from a protectiveness over Lance. A desperation to keep him safe. A huge fear of anything happening to him — a valid fear, with them on the front lines. There’s nothing that’s going to dim Keith’s intense need Lance to be okay, all the time; it’s just something he’ll need to fight until his rut is over.

But… Keith will never admit it, but he kind of likes it when Lance pushes him around. Futile or not, he’s not going to object to his boyfriend, sweaty and smug, kicking his ass for a couple hours.

“Sure, Lance. Let’s try it.”

Lance’s dorky cheer makes it all worth it.

[aromantic-diaries]

I guess what makes me feel more awkward about my sex repulsion is how I feel like I'm either the "no kink at pride" group or the ace those people about when they say "think of the poor asexuals". I love the city near me's pride parade but there have been a couple times I've felt a bit uncomfortable. Like when my friend had to let me know that those nice looking dog hats and stuff a bunch of people were wearing was a kink thing and not just cool coordinated outfits. Or when some older butch lesbians handed an invite for some sort of leathery afterparty late at night. Or the times I was queueing and a couple in front of me were kissing passionately. Like good for you guys to be able to do this in public but your mouth has been in their mouth for the past minute and I am stuck half a meter away just waiting for some loaded fries. I guess it doesn't help much that mouth noises are the worst trigger of my misophonia.

Of course the personal twitter mob that lives rent free in my brain (which I think/hope is my OCD) completely ignores important details. I have no excuse for me being weirded out by the dog guys, but for the other ones I just felt uncomfortable because they were all a lot older than me and now I had to go find somewhere to discretely dispose of the invite, and hopefully it's reasonable that I don't like being stuck right behind someone loudly kissing. But my brain sees none of this and jumps immediately to "OMG YOU HATE OTHER LGBT PEOPLE! SEE YOU ARE THE DISGUSTING NAZI I'VE BEEN SAYING YOU WERE ONE SLIP AWAY FROM BECOMING!"

Also a few years ago I was on a boat tour on the Seine for a school trip and I was just trying to take photos of the buildings but a couple right behind me was making out. I wanted to complain to some of my internet friends but they were just like "you're in Paris the day after Valentine's day, let people have their fun". I don't want to be a killjoy I just really don't like being forced into close proximity with people making out.

While I don't have a solution for your problem, I can still assure you that your discomfort doesn't make you a bad person. There's this idea that has spread around in the age where every thought and opinion is put on display for all to see that you have to be okay with everything and if a harmless thing makes you uncomfortable that automatically means you're a bad person, but that's bullshit

It is true that a negative emotional reaction to something doesn't mean that the thing is immoral, but at the same time, having that reaction doesn't mean you morally oppose that thing. It is what it is. I don't like watching people kiss or hearing about their sex lives, that doesn't make me a raging homophobe and you being uncomfortable about sex doesn't mean you're a terrible person. It just means you don't like sex. You're not violently attacking people, you're just having a negative emotional reaction. You don't have to be okay with everything that makes you uncomfortable

[eoieopda]

hello, jade! 👋 congratulations on 2k followers 👏 👏 you deserve it sm!!! I'm so proud of you! 🫶 if it's okay, I would like to request something for your 2k drabblepalooza event, please. it would be a JungKook x reader e2l drabble with the trope "cuddling for warmth", please. :) (it's been hard for me to find some great fluffy fics with jk and I love everything you write, so I know it'll be good if you decide to write it ♡) thank you in advance, take care! ���

tysm, sweet bean! as i am wont to do, i went a bit left field. hope that’s okay 😵‍💫 tbh, this one was actually really difficult for me to attempt in drabble format because those things feel so opposite to me and would normally justify a lot more backstory, i think?? but i loved the challenge!! i went more with a “life decided we are enemies” kind of thing.

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader type: drabble | wc: 811 | 18+ genre: hurt/comfort, angst au: enemies to lovers(ish), organized crime summary: you didn’t plan this far ahead. you should have. cw: implied gunshot wound & blood (after the fact, not described in detail) / implied criminal enterprise / reference to threats (a hit) / a plot twist? in this economy? / ambiguous ending

Jungkook hisses as he tightens the belt around his bicep. Not far below it, invisible with the deep black of his jacket, is proof that he isn’t invincible after all. In fact, he bleeds much more freely than anyone else you’d ever met — or, more specifically, anyone else you’d ever shot.

Clipped, rather. The bullet barely grazed him.

He sits two meters away, half-slumped and wholly displeased. Between you, there’s a spent shell casing — your last — that had previously been sitting pretty in a magazine, itself nestled in a pistol once strapped snugly against your right thigh. The gun was confiscated and that thigh strap is useless now, just like the black denim underneath it; the turtleneck sweater above it; and the radiator behind you that likely hasn’t worked at any point in your lifetime.

Cold concrete nips at your ass despite your jeans and you shiver. As it saps what’s left of your body heat, makes the back of your thighs tingle until they’re numb, you do your best to squeeze yourself tighter. You can’t reduce your surface area to zero, but if you shrink as much as is physically possible, you can try your best to keep warm.

For the same reason, you can’t lean your exhausted body against the stone wall behind you, but you can crumple forward and rest against the bent knees you clutch to your chest. You can’t stop glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, either, but you can use the fallout from your ponytail as cover and pretend that you aren’t.

Suffice to say, this was not how your night was supposed to go.

“Worst fucking shot I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jungkook mutters through gritted teeth for what you imagine to be the hundredth time. His scoff is visible when it hits the air; his rage doesn’t dissipate the way his breath does. “Kim was right there and you hit me instead? Unbelievable.”

You don’t respond.

If you unclench your jaw to do so, the chattering of your teeth might reduce them to dust in your mouth.

Without your cell phone, you can’t tell how much time passes while you sit in silence. You can’t confirm your suspicion that the temperature outside has, in fact, dipped far below zero. Similarly, you can’t tell if anyone stuck around after locking you in this basement to see how long it would take for the cold to take you out — or to finish the job themselves if you beat the odds.

Jungkook huffs as he shifts in place. Now, with his back resting uncomfortably against the wall, he glares headlong at you. Unfortunately for him, looks can’t kill.

If they could, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Against your better judgment — again — you give in to the primal part of your brain that begs for self-preservation. Your muscles are stiff after so much time spent in knots, and they ache as you push yourself off the ground. Your joints protest too, clicking uncomfortably as they resettle. Wordlessly, you ignore the confusion knitting Jungkook’s brows together and cross over to him.

When you reach him, you drop into the space at his side — his good side — and lean against the arm that isn’t trying hard to clot. He doesn’t flinch or attempt to move away, either because he doesn’t have the energy or because he wants to live, too. So, you rest your head against his shoulder and your eyes drift shut as your combined warmth starts to soothe. Eventually, his cheek claims the top of your head. You have to glance up at him to confirm that this is a choice and not a sign.

Still breathing.

For now.

“Boss know how bad your aim is?”

He doesn’t because it isn’t.

You’re an expert marksman — the best of the best — and you don’t miss. Because he knows that, he now knows that your failure to take down the target wasn’t an accident; it was an illusion. Worse, it was a blatant refusal to carry out a direct order. One he gave to you because he’d wholeheartedly believed that you, more than anyone else, could be trusted.

Not like Jungkook, who isn’t the surreptitious infiltrator he thinks he is; and who still doesn’t grasp the rules or the stakes of the game he’s playing.

Who doesn’t know that the purpose of this errand wasn’t to kill a member of the Kim family; or that he was never meant to leave this warehouse with you.

Who will likely die regardless of your subtle attempt to dodge that outcome; and who — like you — didn’t plan more than two steps ahead.

Whose hatred for you and all you stood for was predetermined by circumstance; and who doesn’t know that you know.

It’s not a question when you reply.

“Boss knows you’re a badge, agent.”

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Gale’s Top Ten: Least favorite episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (as of season 5)

With Season 5 finished and my posting of my top 10 favorite episodes, it’s time I crank the meter the other way. Now some rules

1. Like always this is my personal opinion, and if you liked these episodes, that’s great. I would love to hear your reasoning

2. I will be judging them SOLELY of what was shown in the episode, not by any leaks that came out before or after. I’m solely judging on what is seen and confirmed

3. Word of warning, I will be pretty vicious with my critiques. Also profanities will be thrown.

Now before I go into them, I should give some congratulations to some episodes no longer in my bottom 10

Captain Hardrock: You are still a lame episode, but not the worst you are actually decent in comparison to some of these.

Stormy weather 2.0: Clip shows still are awful, but there are worst things

Frozer: In the grand scheme of things this episode really wasn’t important and there are worst character writing

___________________________________________

10.Sole Crusher

Revisiting this, it really isn’t a good episode for ML. I don’t know what was more Shoehorned in, Zoe’s character arc of replacing Chloé or the lucky charm.

It also makes little sense that Marinette would be the one pushing for Zoe considering her experience with Chloé and her family (especially after Season 5 revealed her trauma).

Now Zoe isn’t a bad character, but she will always be seen as the replacement Good bee, and she deserves better writing.

Honestly it could be argued Queen banana should be here, but that episode is too much of a s***post that I get more enjoyment out of it. This is trying to play this straight and it don’t feel right.

9. Qilin

This episode has a some things going for it, great akuma design, decent action. But it also has a ton going against it. It’s in a series of episodes I like to call “Thomas’ gets political” and I will tell you this, he sucks at it.

I would try and explain further but I am aware I would butcher the topic, all that should be said is, racism tackled poorly and Marinette says she will pay for a ticket that her mother didn’t deserve to get in the first place.

Also the animation looks off in the episode, it just looks so bleh. 

8. Migration

Remember that whole reveal that Luka knows both Ladybug’s and chat noir’s identities and how he kept that to himself?

Well that FINALLY gets addressed. And are Ladybug and chat noir mad at him? No. No consequences for him.

The whole episode acts like he is such an important character but this is one of 2 episodes he’s in where he has more than 2 lines.

Then he gets to travel the world with his dad because monarch found out he knows.

Kagami got akumatized twice and she knew Ladybug’s identity, step up your game Luka.

Also the fake out with Rose was bulls*** and everyone knows it.

Also the entire episode had everyone but Luka lacking brain cells.

I don’t rank it lower because while it annoyed me greatly, there are worse offenders on the list.

7. Animaestro

Astruc complains for 22 minutes that nobody cares about him anymore.

Also Marinette teams up with her bully which after watching Derision, WOULD BE THE LAST thing she would do.

This is the worst example of the Creator calling out the audience, There are other episodes like this but this one is the least entertaining. And if the ending of season 5 is concerned. “I’ve seen your writing, so I can FUCKING CRITIQUE IT YOU ARROGANT PIECE OF…”

Okay, I’m calm. Point being. It’s his call out the critics episode and it sucks

6. Furious Fu

I HATE Su Han.

He is a worse version of Fu in every stretch of the imagination.

The episode where Su han shows up and starts making demands is stupid. The only thing he has going for him is his fighting style which he never teaches the two people that could have needed it!

The episode isn’t lower because despite Su Han’s impact, he really doesn’t do much and he is just there to be a nag later on. Also Fu’s akuma looks dope as hell and gave Fu some slack.

5. Feast

So remember how Su han showed up in the last episode. Well he and all the other guardians were gone for over 100 years because they lost to a 4 Foot blue dog made by a hungry child.

This episode isn’t as bad as the others as a stand alone, but knowing the lore makes it sound so completely stupid. Like Fu was HAUNTED by his past and we find out it was because he was hungry when training and the guardians COULDNT handle that? All trained to fight miraculous users should they go rogue, couldn’t beat ONE DOG. The mysterious order is incompetent as heck.

It’s just so stupid. Also Fu was acting irrational af over all this didn’t help.

4.Reflekdoll

I want everyone to know how massive this is, Reflekdoll is no longer my least favorite episode.

For anyone that follows me, my SEETHING hatred of this episode is well documented.

I won’t go on about how the tropes were horribly done or ignored, how off the banter was, or even how stupid everyone is this episode. Because I’ve discussed it in length.

I will simply say, Thank God there is Passion, so if people want a GOOD kwami swap episode they can watch that one.

3. Miracle Queen

I’ve talked about this episode to death on here. But really the only flaws with it are the last half of the episode.

The drama of the first half is great. But the ass pull of a memory wipe, the clear degradation of Chloé’s character, and just the simple giving up of Hawkmoth, he could have easily still won if he pushed a bit longer. The ending was depressing but also a clear example of how the writers put themselves in a corner with no way out.

The only thing that makes it worse is Fu’s replacement (Su han) ends up being a worse teacher.

Also considering how they spent season 4 quickly getting Marinette and Adrien out of the relationships with the love rivals, even they realize it was a dumb call.

__________________________________________

2. Ephemeral

Hey, let’s make an episode to explain why Adrien can NEVER know his father is the villain.

This episode is the go to justification of the writers on why Adrien will always be sidelined. It was also the unofficial reveal of the sentimonster theory before it was said pretty much outright in season 5.

The worst akuma design. Marinette gaslighting, gate keeping chat noir at its worst.

Gabriel wins and gets his wish.

And none of it mattered and no one remembers it except I think Sass. So it was pretty much pointless.

Not even the ladrien and cute reveal could save it.

And don’t even get me started on how pointless and avoidable it is.

It’s almost funny because despite how pointless this was, it’s still better than number 1.

1. Re-creation

So many cool concepts, great designs. Marinette dropping a piano on Gabriel. So many great things. But it also had some flaws, like having Adrien sidelined, and the focus on heroes from the specials for practically no reason. But all of that could be forgivable if the ending lands…

It really shows how an AWFUL ending can fuck up everything.

Imagine having 5 seasons of fighting to stop a villain from getting the miraculous to make the wish only for him to WIN! Yes he wins. He gets to make the wish, you know the wish that was said should NEVER be used. Of all the stupid, asinine, Shark Jumping BULL SHIT. Who the fuck APPROVED THIS HORSE SHIT?!

So he gets his wish, and he gets a statue HONORING HIM. What the fuck? Adrien, who was ABUSED now sees his abuser as a hero and EVERYONE THAT KNOWS THE TRUTH IN HIS LIFE IS HIDING THE TRUTH FROM HIM. Nathalie, Marinette, Felix, Kagami. Even PLAGG!

And the whole utopia crap, everything is just perfect now, because the villain got what he wanted.

That’s a great lessons for kids! (Blatant Sarcasm)

But let’s really dig in, the ending left a LOT of things vague. And hilariously ALL OF THE POTENTIAL OUTCOMES ARE SHIT.

1. Emilie was revived and Nathalie got healed.

So Gabriel gets everything he wanted from the wish, justifying everything he did and he gets treated like a hero and another person hiding the truth from Adrien. Marinette knows everything that brought this about and is keeping that from Adrien, but is justified slightly because it could encourage Adrien to try and get his father back with a wish. Also brings up the question of who took Emile’s place.

2. Only Nathalie was healed.

Gabriel ended up with Emilie like he wanted, gets treated like a martyr, Adrien is technically an orphan, Marinette is knowingly lying to him about his father and Adrien continues to get Gaslit.

3. Emilie is revived, Nathalie is healed, and memories were altered

Gabriel’s wish basically shaped EVERYTHING how he wanted, meaning he is still in control of Adrien’s life even in death. Even his own wife. So while this removes Marinette covering for him intentionally, it just means Gabriel was so much worse.

4. Nathalie’s healed and memories altered

Gabriel gets to be with Emile and has shaped Adrien’s life even in death. Everyone basically puppeteer by him as he died. Sure he’s dead but he also retconned for his redemption, which is bullshit.

Now there are people that defend this ending/potential ending.

I’m sorry but, unless they revive Gabriel and he gets exposed, Adrien finds out the truth, and he gets held accountable for his actions. I can’t feasibly imagine this ending being good.

The writing staff aren’t going to do Anything about this, they are just going to move on to Lila as the main villain and say the Agreste plotline is over.

If they Do, do something, I’ll happily take back my words and alter my view of the episode but right now.

It’s one of the WORST season finale’s I’ve seen in my life.

[empresskadia]

I am honored that I got a meme for my submission, and that I got someone else to be as flustered as I was when I imagined the pinkie promise. But, it is time for Round 2! Hear me out:

Linda-058 loves having a competition at the firing range with her s/o. It doesn't particularly matter what weapon you use, but she's a sucker for the sniper rifle. If you can keep up with her and try firing from unorthodox positions, she will practically have hearts in her eyes. Once, you had hit a headshot on one of the targets from 150 meters from a somersault and she nearly told you she loved you right there.

-

Kelly-087 loves to link her arm with her partner's. Being the fastest Spartan-II, she often forgets to slow down, relax, and just enjoy the little things so it kind of forces her to slow down and take it in. The first time you did this, it was in the park on the Infinity, and the way the light illuminated you and the way you looked at her made her fall in love all over again. Maybe slowing down every once in a while isn't the worst thing.

-

Cal-141 is by far the most physically affectionate of all the Spartans. If she's not holding your hand then she's thinking about it, and her favorite way to sleep is with her head to your chest while she's hugging you. The sound of your heartbeat lulls her, and she feels safe with you enough to be vulnerable. And if you run your fingers through her hair? She's out like a light.

-

Sarah Palmer is near-impossible to fluster. This woman was an ODST, and while she loves you in ways she can't put into words, she is immune to most of your attempts at flirtation. The one and only time you've successfully flustered her to the point she couldn't speak, you had simply asked if you could kiss her while addressing her by her rank. Something about "May I kiss you, Commander?" made her brain shut off.

The pinkie promise is the cutest thing ever. I feel like Naomi-010 would also be into it like Cal.

'Hear me out' is this blogs meme now because you know I will hear you out and love every minute of it and want more.

ROUND 2, you are spoiling me. This is my post-workout meal, thank you. [I was seriously responding to this at the gym, I couldn't wait.]

Linda and her partner go on shooting range dates, it's canon. And if you propose a sniper rifle for shooting that day to her as the chosen weapon, yes, she will marry you. During missions, the both of you will figure out who can make the most shots from unorthodox that Fred's like 'Why are we here? Those two will get this mission done before we blink.'

This for Kelly is seriously the cutest thing, especially if her partner does it to slow her down and enjoy things. Sometimes you have to live slowly and Kelly's never had to do that for herself or someone before, but watching her partner literally glow while calmly strolling, just clicks something in her mind.

Cal's partner is her safe space. You hold her hand after a mission and she knows everything is okay. She sometimes thinks of Maria-062 and how her sister-in-arms wanted to retire with a family one day and Cal starts thinking about just waking up every day together during retirement. Just having a soft morning with her partner keeps her spirits up for days.

This. This for Sarah. You are a genius and I'm fangirling at this thought. Just flirtatiously calling her Commander after this gets her almost everytime. Her cheeks will go a pale pink but that's the only reaction you will get from her now unless she's had a drink or two and then she sticks her tongue out at her partner. Roland has never let her live this down.

[rageprufrock]

am i going to watch a whole show (mysterious lotus casebook) just so i can read your fic about it? yes. Am I also indefinitely suspended in a state of melancholy yearning for your vaguely-promised addition to Whittled Down by Another War? also yes. May sleep continue to elude you.

You know what? Ask and ye shall receive at least some of it, which I have written so far. Happy reading.

The first guy Porsche ever fools around with is a Korean tourist on vacation who shoots his shot in broken Thai. He's all smooth skin and silver-blond hair, wearing skintight jeans and a billowy pearl shirt; Porsche thinks he looks iridescent in the pink light of Hum Bar, between his light hair and light contacts, and he knows, objectively, that the guy is prettier than half the girls in the room tonight.

Because Porsche is sort of an asshole, he doesn't really catch the guy's name—Taemin? Jimin? something like that?—but he does remember thinking that it might be worth figuring out what the big deal was, and holding up his cigarettes, saying, "My break's in 15 minutes." It's a decision he makes out of pure curiosity without any influence from recent social factors, new acquaintances, members of the Bangkok underworld, or their specific tendencies to walk around with their tits hanging out of their designer shirts.

It's nice, because it's almost never not nice when someone is nice enough to put their mouth on your dick, but Porsche thinks—vague with formless disappointment—that it's only nice. Out of good hookup etiquette, Porsche offers and performs what he hopes is an acceptable handjob before giving his partner some alleyway wet wipes and a cigarette. It's a solid 6/10 experience, and he ends up dropping a few Google Maps pins for the kid for good restaurant recommendations and tells him which tourist traps to avoid if at all possible. It is the most ambivalent he has ever felt about a sexual experience, and it leaves him annoyed in a way Porsche decides not to think about.

"Are you serious?" Tem demands, when Porsche comes back from the alley. "It's not enough for you to Bogart all the hot chicks in his bar, you have to start poaching guys?"

"I'm allowed to try new things," Porsche whines.

Tem narrows his eyes. "Is this about your crush on the mafia guy?"

"This is homophobic," Porsche says, feeling a rising sense of dread, because Tem is one of his best friends, and the worst part of intimacy is being known. "And anyway it was—fine. It was extremely okay. It was no big deal. Turns out I'm still just straight."

"You are a complete fucking clown is what you are," Tem says to him, which turns out to be only the third-meanest thing Tem calls him that night.

The second time Porsche hooks up with a guy, he's actually Thai, which allows for improved communication but provides stunningly little benefit otherwise. King is a solid six inches shorter than Porsche, with glossy black hair and beestung lips, wearing a mesh shirt and cut up shorts. He leans over the bar with a flattering interest and the type of confidence that looks sexy on anybody, hooks one finger into the place where Porsche's shirt button is fighting for its life, and asks if he's interested in going somewhere private after his shift.

Porsche means to say, "Oh, no, thank you, but I'm not interested."

What Porsche actually says is, "Okay. Do you have a place?" and feels Tem's glare searing into his organs from a distance of 10 meters.

The situation isn't improved when, as he's begging off closing, Yok glowers at him like a disapproving parent and asks, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know," Porsche says, honest. "I mean—what the hell am I ever doing?"

"Oh my God," Yok mutters. "Just—don't get pregnant."

Porsche doesn't get pregnant, but he does get pushed backward onto the creaky mattress of a dingy little apartment so that King can mouth at his dick until he's all the way hard and roll on a condom. Porsche likes to think he's polite in bed, so he tries to like, help, or whatever, but King seems to take Porsche's attempts to participate as adorable but misguided, even if he does say, "sure, if you want to try," when Porsche asks to help finger him open. It's shockingly different and shockingly the same, dipping his fingers into the hot clutch of someone's body, so weird if you think about it too much, but so immediate and close in the moment. The warm weight of another person, the smell of King's hair, the little huffs and noises he makes—those are all so good—and Porsche likes making people feel good, likes when he does something right and King says, "oh, yes, there, there." It takes him out of his own head and plunges him back into the moment, back into a stranger's apartment and a stranger's bed, back to the moment at hand where King is perched in his lap, notching the head of Porsche's cock into the slick, hot furl of his hole and sliding down, down, down.

It's good, in a way that's nothing like it's been with all the women he's fucked against alley walls, and Porsche feels sparks behind the eyes when King holds him down, takes what he needs. It's rough and a little raw, and King leaves a mean little brand of dull fingernail bruises on Porsche's thigh, from where he leaned back to get the angle how he liked and rode Porsche into the sunset.

"Not bad for your first time," King says after, just wandering around scrubbing between his legs with a towel in a way Porsche is certain no woman would be caught dead doing. "You want anything? Water? I have some watermelon?"

"Uh," Porsche says, still wearing a t-shirt, no pants and the used condom, lying on top of King's sheets like a fucking idiot. "No, I'm good?"

"Great, well, it was great hanging out tonight," King says, all business, hands Porsche his jeans and tosses him out on his freshly fucked ass.

"What the fuck," Porsche hisses, to himself, to the unfeeling universe, into the visor of his motorcycle helmet as he steers himself home, feeling knock-kneed and akimbo, run through with so much weirdness it's like he's 13 all over again.

"Well you can stop worrying, I'm definitely straight," Porsche reports the next day, when Tem traps him in the newly installed walk-in fridge and threatens him with a muddler.

Tem looks like he's in physical pain. "Please explain."

"Well I had actual butt sex with a guy—"

"Holy shit," Tem whispers.

"—and it was, I mean. It was whatever? It was good, I guess?" Porsche says, struggling, because it was good and bad and weird and near what he wanted but so far away he'd been angry showering that night, scrubbing under his pits and around his groin. It's like biting into a strawberry to find it tasteless after he's wondered for decades, saved for years, and now he feels embarrassed and pissed about it, still hungry.

"You guess?" Tem asks, sounding increasingly hysterical.

"It was just okay!" Porsche yells. "Like extremely, totally just okay! Like what is even the big deal if that's all it was? It was fine! He was super pretty and I couldn't even get into it so what's the point?"

Tem puts down the muddler but only so he can cover his face with both hands. It leaves Porsche standing there feeling humiliated and getting colder and colder for a long time before Tem says through his fingers, "Porsche, do you want me to tell you what I think?"

Porsche met Tem back in kindergarten, because when all their classmates had been comparing who had the fewest teeth, he and Tem had tied. When Porsche was too scared to go to the boy's bathroom because Jom started a rumor that it was haunted, Tem had kept watch when Porsche had gone to go take a shit in the bushes behind the gym. Tem helps Porsche sweep up his parents' graves, helps Chay with his homework; he knows where the junk drawer in Porsche's house is, where to find the extra toilet paper, the batteries, all of Porsche's hidden hopes.

Porsche absolutely does not want to know what Tem thinks.

"No, I'm good," Porsche babbles, shoulderchecks Tem out of the way, and flees into the front of house before throwing himself at every ravening group of drunk women available for the rest of the night, terrified Tem's going to reveal some truth of the universe Porsche isn't ready to hear yet.



The problem—well, one of the problems—is that Porsche still wants to talk about it. It keeps bubbling up under his skin like an itch, always on the tip of his tongue, but Tem's moved on from trying to give him tough love to giving Porsche tender looks, like Porsche has a terminal case of being a fucking moron and only six months to live. So the point is Porsche has this weird impulse, this jitter, and he can't talk to Tem about it, which means he can't talk to Jom about it, because Jom will just text Tem and Tem will come after Porsche like a surface to air missile. There are no circumstances under which Porsche could talk to Chay about it. Porsche briefly hallucinates talking to Kinn about it, the next time Kinn comes to the bar in his tailored trousers to drink too many Old Fashioneds, and it feels like someone threw a molotov cocktail into Porsche's stomach, so that's right out. Anyway, the point is, for lots of reasons, most of them bad, Porsche's go-to friend for questions about gay sex ends up being Big.

"Hey, we're friends," Porsche says. "Can I ask you about doing it with guys?"

"We're not friends," Big says with absolute conviction and a look on his face like he just watched Porsche murder a basket of kittens.

"So like—how did you know?" Porsche goes on, ignoring him. "That you were into dudes?"

Big stares over Porsche's shoulder, at the wall of liquor behind him, and appears to be suffering the worst possible torment and extremis.

"I'm just asking because like, sex feels good in general right?" Porsche barrels on, because Big can't ignore him forever. Kinn had banished him to the bar so that he could have what looks like the most classic I Hate Being Your Older Brother phone call of all time in a booth four feet away, so there's nowhere Big can go and nothing he can do. "Like how do you know if it's good because you're into dudes, or just friction?"

"You're how old?" Big snaps, breaking. "How can you not know this? Also—how do you know I'm even into men?"

"I have eyes," Porsche says. "I use them to watch you staring at Kinn."

"I'm a bodyguard," Big says. "It's literally my job to stare at Khun Kinn."

"You better hang onto that bodyguard job, because you're a shit actor," Porsche says. "Come on, seriously. I need help. Like gay help."

Big turns away from the wall of liquor so that he can stare at Kinn some more. "I wish I could drink on the job," he says, like Porsche is slowly killing him, and then before Porsche can argue his point anymore, Kinn ends his call and ambles back over.

"That was my cue," Kinn says, indicating his phone and glancing at Big.

"I'll call for the car immediately," Big says, and fucking disappears, dust clouds in his wake, as far away from Porsche and his unanswered question as possible, the dick.

Even worse, it leaves Porsche in the harrowing position of being unsupervised and subjected to all of Kinn's concentrated attention: those dark eyes huge and hungry and thoughtful, staring and staring. It makes Porsche's heart hurt; it makes him shy; it makes him duck his head, nervous, and to scrub at the spotless counter with a rag and ask, "Do you have time for one more? For the road?" too softly, too—everything.

"Not tonight," Kinn tells him. His smile looks a little glassy, too brittle and polished and polite; this isn't the Kinn that Porsche likes best, where he's wrinkled and bitchy and rude, entirely present. "But thank you."

"Of course," Porsche says, feeling hot, feeling lost. "Have a good night."

Kinn leaves Porsche a 500% tip. "You too, Porsche."

It's a lot later, and only into the forgiving dark of his bedroom, that Porsche curls up on his side and stares out his window and whispers, "Be safe." Worse than any secret Tem knows, worse than anything Big could say, that he has to grit his teeth against the words every time Kinn walks away is the worst, most exposing truth of all.

Porsche figures that now that he's ticked those two homosexual boxes, he's done with this weird little experiment. This assumption holds true until he finds himself in the alleyway behind Hum Bar again, only this time his knees hurt, bone grinding against the wet cement paving through his polyester work pants as he stares up at some guy who'd followed Porsche out during his break. Kinn's been a no-show at the bar for more than a month: there hasn't been anything in the newspapers, there hasn't been anything in the society pages, there hasn't been anything on the police scanners. Porsche blames this radio silence for the series of poor decisions he makes that night, beginning with taking two fortifying shots three-quarters of the way through his shift, and concluding with getting facefucked less than 10 meters away from a bunch of trash cans.

Long after tonight's random gay interlude disappears, Tem finds Porsche sitting on a stack of palettes in the back, letting his cigarette burn down to the filter.

"What the fuck," Tem says. "What happened to you? Are you okay? Are you crying?"

Porsche scrubs at his face. "No," he lies, because he'd definitely been crying earlier, choking on dick, and his mouth feels bruised, swollen. He's afraid to see what he looks like right now, if he would look as obvious as he feels: used up, if just anybody could see him and know immediately how much he likes how his throat hurts, the way he keeps sweeping his tongue over his teeth, chasing the bitter salt taste of cum in his mouth.

Tem's face goes through all five stages of grief before he swings back to anger, shoves at Porsche until there's enough room on the palette to sit on his right, and steals his cigarette.

[kybercrystals94]

When Fears Are Faced

By KyberCrystals94

Read here on Ao3!

Bad Things Happen Bingo | Prompt: Facing their phobia

Rating: G

Words: 721

Summary: Hunter faces his greatest fear… [[this story might make more sense if you’ve read Where Fears Are Born (by me!) & Phobia (by @just-here-with-my-thoughts) first!]]

(This story takes place mid season 1)

TW: Arachnophobia (you might wanna skip this little story if you have issues with spiders…)

It isn’t fair.

None of this is fair.

Tech is the one who suggested swim lessons in the first place, so, really, he should be the one standing here compromising. That would be fair. That would be reasonable. But instead, somehow, someway, Tech is standing a dozen meters away and half a step behind Wrecker’s bulking, trembling form. At least the cowards have the decency to look sympathetic.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Hunter asks, forcing a gruffness into his voice to hide the way it wants to pitch an octave.

“Yes, Hunter, it’s perfectly harmless,” Echo says. Hunter isn’t looking at the cyborg’s face, but he can practically hear the eye roll.

“It’s true,” Tech calls from his safe distance, “I double checked the data myself.”

Shut up, Tech, Hunter wants to retort, but he bites his tongue. You’re doing this for the kid. If she can handle it…you can handle it.

“And look how cute it is!” Omega croons, holding her cupped hands up for Hunter’s horrified inspection, “It’s fuzzy!” Hunter does not look at it, averting his eyes. Omega pulls her hands back, and gently strokes the demon with her pinky. “Do you think it likes this, Echo? Me petting it?”

“Arachnids do not register affectionate gestures in the same way that traditionally domesticated creatures do,” Tech offers, voice carrying on the gentle breeze that has picked up.

Hunter grits his teeth. “If you know so much about them, why don’t you come over here and do this?” he asks.

“That was not the agreement.”

Omega smiles up at Hunter with the sweetest, most affectionate show of teeth he’s ever seen. “I promise it won’t hurt you,” she says.

Hunter wants to crawl out of his skin. He wants to call this whole thing off. He wants to knock Tech and Wrecker’s heads together for getting him into this mess. Instead, he tries so hard to smile back at his little sister. “Okay,” he says, “if I hold the spider—”

“—for thirty seconds—” Echo puts in quickly.

Hunter shoots him a look but turns his focus back to Omega. “If I hold the spider for thirty seconds,” he emphasizes for Echo’s benefit, “then you’ll let us teach you how to swim, right?”

Omega nods eagerly. “If you face your fear, I’ll face mine!” She bounces on her toes, so excited.

This isn’t fair!

Hunter wrings his hands together nervously. This is one of the worst moments of my life.

“Are you ready?” Omega asks.

No! Hunter holds out his hand. “As I’ll ever be.”

Wrecker and Tech lean in from their safe distance.

Omega drops the spider in Hunter’s hand.

Hunter can’t ever hope to try and deny the pathetic creak of his voice when the eight-legged monster scrambles confusedly across his palm. It finally settles near the base of his fingers, perching with its legs drawn up. He might as well be holding literal flame.

“Awww,” Omega lilts joyfully, “it likes you, Hunter!”

“How much longer?” he asks Echo.

Echo is watching his chrono. “It’s only been five seconds.”

“No it hasn’t!” Hunter protests.

“Now ten.”

Hunter’s muscles feel taut as Omega’s bow string. He might be shaking a little, but he isn’t sure if he actually is, or if it’s just his vision going a little foggy.

“You are doing so good, Hunter!” Omega says encouragingly, touching his arm. “I am so proud of you!”

This is kriffing humiliating. A little kid is telling a full-grown man that she’s proud of him for holding a karking bug!

“Twenty seconds.”

“You’re over halfway there, Hunter! Just a few more seconds.”

“Five, four, three, two, one…Done!”

Omega snatches the spider out of Hunter’s hand before he can hurl it across the meadow (and maybe directly in Tech and Wrecker’s direction). “You did it!”

Hunter has to lock his knees to keep himself upright. He can feel the cool beading of sweat across his brow. He wipes his hand harshly against his pant leg, trying to get the feeling of spider legs off his skin.

Omega trots over to a nearby tree and lets the spider crawl off her hand and onto the bark. She watches it until it climbs out of her reach before she skips back to Hunter. “I’m ready for my swim lesson!”

END

I dedicate this story to @just-here-with-my-thoughts! Thanks for the fun idea…I hope it lives up to your expectations 😂

Tag List: @isthereanechoinhere96 @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69

✨Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List!✨

[famina]

Late night walk

*TRIGGER WARNING* This one is serious ! Since it involves the Vigilante, the story starts with a troubling encounter that could get uncomfortable for some. If it is your case, please skip to "=============THIS SING DOWN BELOW=============" Thanks. I hope you like it !!

There are no stars out tonight, the sky is a dark purple mass. Only the million of streetlights and neon signs lighten your path. Cities glow at night. The darkness hides all the dirtiness and let’s shine the rest.

As you walk along the pavement you breath in the night city air ! It’s cold and a bit metallic. You were out with some friends and what was supposed to be a little get together ended way later than anyone expected ! But you don’t care, you don’t work tomorrow. All you’ve got to do now is return home and sleep. But the night was so fun that you want to stretch it out a bit longer. You decide to take a detour by the park just for fun ! You think it should look magical on a night like this.

And you were right ! The warm yellow lights of the old streetlamps reflect on the fountains water and gives it a enchanting look. It’s just you, alone, in your own glowing kingdom.

Sundenly, a clank sound ! You turn around to see a person in the distance. You almost forgot you were in a public place and start to come back to reality.

“Hey!” Says the stranger. You don’t respond.

“I said HEY ! What a…What.cha doing here !?” You start to make your way out of the park.

“Wait ! I said WAIT !” They start to chase you. You are now running; you don’t really know where. You are not familiar with this part of town.

You end up corned in a little alley way and the stranger is still approaching.

“C’mon ! Why you..T’fuck is wrong with you..” The stranger is now very close.

“S-Stay away please !!” You say to them but to no avail.

“Hey ! I-I’m not bad…see !?” They make a gesture to show themselves as if that was a reassuring answer. They were clearly not sober. You don’t know what to do and start panicking.

“P-Please…Leave me alone !”

“Oh ! No ! No ! Ssshhhh…’s okay !” They get uncomfortably close. You froze up ! You close your eyes tightly and get ready for the worst.

================HERE YOU GO, ENJOY !===============

Then in an instant, you hear the wind whistling and the body of the stranger is forcefully pushed away. You open your eyes to discover a young man has interposed himself between you two and kicked the assailant a good 3 meter back.

Your pursuer is stumbling back up. “HEY !” they scream to the young man “T’HECK D’YOU WANT !!??”

“I believe this person told you to not approach them !”

With difficulty, the assailant gets back to their feet and seems to get ready to punch him.

“I do not want to harm you !” Said the man “But I must warn you that I WILL defend myself if need be !” At these words, the young men place himself in a combat position, he seemed to have experience in fighting.

To that, the stranger lost all confidence and turned away. “Whateveryoufuck…Idon’teven…” And so they left while still mumbling insults along the way.

You calm down a bit. The young man seems to do so too. He turns around to look at you :

“Are you hurt in any way ?”

“W-wha ? N-No !”

“Good…” He then turns around and is about to make an exit.

“W-Wait !” You stop him !

“Hm ?” He seems genuinely surprised at your action.

“Well hm…thank you I guess.”

“Don’t mention it. It is my duty !”

“Oh…….is that so….” You think to yourself that maybe you exchanged one weirdo for another. “W-well…” You start “..H-Here ! As thanks, I could give you-..”

“No!” The man stops you sharply “I never take from others ! I’m not a thief nor am I a beggar.”

“O-oh….I see..s-sorry..”

“Don’t be…I-I’m sorry for my strong reaction…” He backs away shyly.

“D-Don’t worry about it.” You say with a smile.

“Well I should be going now.” He starts walking with a determined walk when “AAAAH !!” He sundenly feels to the ground clutching his abdomen.

“W-WHAT’S WRONG ! A-Are you hurt ?!” You run to him, worried.

“N-No…this is nothing…I’m simply..AaaaAAAArgh !!”

GGRRRRRRrrrrrrRRRROOOOOooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooWWwwwwwwwl

“Han ??”

The young man is red as a tomato and tries to hide his face in his collar. “I’m….a bit hungry…..That’s all…”

GGGGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwl

“You sound a more than a BIT hungry.”

“It’s…not as bad as it sound…It’s fine really…I’ll just…hmm” He tries to stand up and run away but he fells back to the gound after tree steps.

“H-Hey !!” You run to him again . “You shouldn’t do that ! You’re clearly too weak to run at the moment.”

“My…..bad…” He seems VERY lightheaded now.

“Alright, let’s get something to eat, okay ?”

“I-I don’t need-..”

gggGGGGGggggGrrrrRRRRrrrrrOOOOooooooowls…

“Mmmh…”

He’s stomach disagrees and so do you. “Come on ! Up we go !” You put him on your shoulders and start walking. Since he seems good in a fight, you’re surprised to find out how light he is. That’s not good. “Don’t worry, I know a good pizza place near by ! I’ll take you there.”

“I can’t….”

“Yes you can !”

“…Got…no…money..”

“Oh…Well I’ll be treating then ! It’ll be my thanks for earlier !”

“N-No ! I don’t take from others ! I refuse to-“

GRRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOWWWLS

“Hm-mmmh…” He’s overflowing with embarrassment.

“Well if you don’t want to die you’ll have to accepte. Besides, your not taking, I AM OFFERING ! So no more complaining, got it ?”

“………………………………………..got it…….”

“Good !”

You make your way to the pizza place ! It’s one of those open 24/7 restaurant. It’s not the fanciest place but the pizza is good and it’s the perfect place for late night snacks. There’s only one person behind the counter and they’re not paid enough to pay attention to you until you place an order. You put the young hero on a chair and take the plastic menu.

“So, what do you want ?”

“………………….” The hero has turned his face away. He’s clearly uneasy about you buying him food. But you can’t just leave him be.

“…If you don’t tell me I’ll just take an all-dressed !”

“…………………”

“Alright ! All-dressed it is !” You stand up to go order when the young men pulls on your shirt to stop you. You turn around. He’s still hiding his face in his collar.

He shyly says : “C-could you…ask for no peppers…..p-please…?”

You laugh a bit : “ Yeah ! Sure thing !”

You go order the pizza and return to your seat while you wait for it to be done. After a little while, you hear a certain sound.

Grrrrrooooooooan….

“O-oh !?...” The young hero turns red again. “S-Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize ! It’s perfectly norm-“

GRRRRROOOOOOooooooowl…

He get’s even redder and hides as he can under his bangs and collar. “Sorry…”

This continued for a little while and your companion seems more and more uncomfortable so you decide to break the ice to distrack him from his hunger while you wait.

“So, my name is (Y/N), what’s yours ??”

“O-oh..I don’t use my real name when I’m on duty.. sorry..”

“Oh okay…so, what should I call you ?”

“You can call me the Hero or the Vigilante…if you want..”

“You don’t even have a hero name ?!”

“I….haven’t settle on one yet….”

“I see…So..hm..Vigilante..Do you, do this sort of things every night ?”

“What sort of thing ?”

“Swooping in and beating the bad guys ?”

“Well, yes ! I do this most nights.”

“Really ? When do you sleep ?”

“During the day…But that’s not always possible. After all…Crime never sleeps !..”

You suspect he wanted to sound cool. But you can’t help your self to laugh.

“H-Hey ! That’s not…mmmh..” He pouts. You then notice that he has deep dark circles under his eyes and that stops your laughter.

“Well it’s not healthy. You should sleep 8 hours a day you know ?!”

“I-I know…”

“And you should try to eat more properly too ! You seem pretty strong but depriving your body of food for a long time is not good !”

“I….I’ll try…”

Now you feel like you’re moralizing him. “sigh Sorry it’s just…You seem very nice. And I think you should try to take better care for yourself ! That’s all.”

“Y-You think I’m nice ?!”

“Well…yeah ? Is that odd ?”

“Well…it’s just…people usually think I’m a weirdo….” He slumps his head down. This surprise you, sure he’s not…the most normal person you’ve met but he clearly means well. Does he get a hard time even tho he’s trying to do good ?

“H-hmm..” He perks his head back up. “T-thank you…By the way…for the food…”

“Oh ! No problem !” You smile at him and your pretty sure he smiles back from under his collar.

The pizza finally arrives at your table. The vigilante suddenly gets all excite like a little dog. He thanks the worker who brought it about 5 times and then is about to take a piece when he suddenly stops.

“O-Oh ! H-hmm…M-my bad…You paid for it. Y-you should serve yourself first…”

“Oh no no !” You say. “I’m not hungry ! I ordered it for you ! Take it all !”

“R-Really ?..” He looks at you with surprise. You reassure him by nodding and smiling. He starts beaming with joy and starts eating the pizza with vigor. You are happy to see him enjoying a good meal. You have a feeling he doesn’t often do so.

In a few minutes the whole pizza has disappeared. The vigilante breaths a sigh of relief. “This was…really really good. Thanks again….I-I’ll repay you of course !”

“Oh ! So you do have money ?”

“N…no…Well, not now…But hmmm…one day ?” He looks at you with an awkward unsure smile. You smile back.

“It’s a promise then.”

And so, you make your way home. The vigilante insists to walk you home like the gentleman that he is. It IS getting very late so you actually enjoy the reassuring company. You wish each other goodnight and you make the Vigilante promise to go straight to bed after this. And you make your way to your bed. One day he’ll pay you back, huh ? Well…let’s hope this day comes soon so you can chat with him again.