#i had a friend looked down upon and insulted over this today so i wanted to speak out about why folks are wrong abt this

[orchidbreezefc]

literal hot take: fahrenheit is better than celsius. not just for everyday use, in every context.

first off: the degrees are smaller so the system is more precise, simple as. but more importantly fahrenheit--which is older, and originally european--was designed to be intuitive to the human experience. celsius was designed to match two of the conversion points (it doesn't account for the vaporization point) of one (1) substance, and... well, that's all!

0°F is about as cold as we can stand for much time, 100°F is about as hot, and 50-60°F is comfortable (depending on the weather you're used to). it's an easily-understood system where numbers convey meaning without requiring memorization.

those figures in celsius are -17.777°C and 37.777°C. if you dont have a learning disability/dysgraphia, take a moment to imagine how hard it would be to interpret those numbers. the comfortable goldilocks temperature of 60°F becomes 15.555°C, which doesnt map to any scale we use. but people use scales of 1 to 10 to describe comfort every day! a 1 or 10 is too extreme, and so are 10°F and 100°F.

celsius saves us having to memorize two important numbers--which every american does have memorized, 32 and 212--and sacrifices the legibility of every other number on the scale! is it better to memorize two numbers and make the rest of your system intuitive, or to make those two numbers easy and need to memorize everything else?

i don't think this argument is unreasonable or difficult to grasp, but it always gets intense pushback from international folks, even friends that i know are reasonable people, who don't engage with my points and insist that the universality of celsius must mean it's better. it uncritically considers the system one was raised with as superior purely because it's familiar--which is what americans are accused of!

i get it. america sucks real bad in a vast wealth of ways you are absolutely correct to criticize. and when our systems differ they often really are worse (imperial vs metric) or are equal, which means it would be better to match the rest of the world (driving on the right, though we aren't the only country that does). this is not one of those times! popularity doesnt make something better.

you're welcome to prefer the one you're used to, and you can even argue that americans should adopt celsius because you think ease of conversion matters more than ease of use. but claiming celsius is a better system is just not true.

P.S.: if you say something on this post, i politely ask that you 1. keep a sense of proportion regarding how important this really is (i.e. not very), 2. take the time to consider and engage with my points instead of clowning on my stance without actually thinking about it in the way i described above. uncritical acceptance of local customs is supposed to be an american thing, don't bite our style!

[donatellawritings]

hola bebesita!!!! sooo curious to see how rafe's friends are towards his sweetheart latina :PPPP

all of rafe’s friends loved you — much to his jealousy-ridden dismay. they held you in a highly respectable regard, majorly due to the fact that you were rafe’s girl, and partly thanks to the fact that they each had premature crushes on you. you were always stretching your plump, gloss-smeared lips into a achingly sweet smile, always treating them with a basic kindness and warmth that they never received from rafe, despite years upon years of friendship. it also didn’t hurt that you were a sight for sore eyes, tight mini skirts and low rise yoga pants clung to your plush curves just right, cropped baby tees and skimpy shirts pushed your supple breasts up to the perfect height, and you were always dolled up — glittery shadows accenting you wispy eyelash-clad doe eyes perfectly, hair always shining and voluminous whether it was curled or tousled into a flippy blowout.

sometimes, rafe’s friends obsessively thought about just how he secured a bombshell of your likeness. i mean, sure, they knew it would be easy for rafe to secure some coked up kook with blonde hair, but you were a dream. and there were instances where they would bashfully listen as you whispered into rafe’s ear, licking over their suddenly dried lips as the sing of your slight accent peaked with certain words.

today, rafe had invited the likes of topper, kelce, and barry to tannyhill — you stood at the kitchen counter, pulling at the hem of your baby pink micro skirt, shifting your weight on your dior mules as you carried a tray of freshly assorted fruits and hors d’oeuvres atop of your french manicured hands, your swarovski tennis bracelet glinting against the sunlight as you made your way to the backyard, a smiled pulling on your glossy lips as you reached where rafe and his friends sat, placing the tray on the table, slightly bent over as the three young men stole quick glances at your off-shoulder clad chest, the swell of your breasts pushed up against your chest.

sat with his legs spread, rafe patted your inner thigh with a proud grin on his face, “thank you, princess,” he nodded, bringing your free hand to his lips, kissing your soft knuckles as you turned to him with a close-mouthed and blushing smile. your freshly blown out hair flipping over your exposed shoulder as you took your seat beside rafe, one of your legs neatly crossed over the other.

“thank you!” the three young men who sat across from you and rafe sang in unison as they jabbed toothpicks into their food of choice. your stomach bloomed with happiness as you leaned into rafe’s side with a content sigh.

wordlessly, you leaned over, stabbing a toothpick into a cube of soft mango, cupping your hand underneath the juicy fruit as you carried it towards rafe’s face, “try some, papi,” you smiled, batting your pretty lashes at rafe you smirked, lowering his arm to sit around your hip as he accepted the fruit, gently taking the toothpick from your hand, “s’so good,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows as rafe bit into the fruit, pulling you in closer to him as he nodded his head, before kissing the top of your head.

kelce huffed silently, sharing a knowing look with topper as the two young men watched the way your soft hand rested on rafe’s belt buckle. barry sat silent, stabbing his toothpick into a piece of sliced salami as your obnoxiously thin lace thong peeked from underneath your ridden up miniskirt. the three men were quickly torn from their problematic thoughts and stolen glances when rafe decided to clear his throat.

expecting a slew of insults and profanities to be hurled their way, topper, kelce, and barry were pleasantly surprised when you straightened your posture, biting down into your plump bottom lip in excitement. “uh, i just wanted to invite you guys to my birthday, m’finally turning twenty-one so i am super excited,” you beamed, your doe eyes bright with glee as rafe slid his hand up to the dip of your waist, giving it a soft squeeze of approval. “i know that rafe would want you guys there, and it would mean a lot to me if you all could come,” you sealed with a sweet smile.

“yeah, s’gonna be a fuckin’ lot of people here, but she wants to see y’guys,” rafe sighed, scratching at his buzzed hair as you jabbed your shared toothpick with rafe into a crisp red grape.

barry let out a breathy chuckle, “yeah, we’ll be there, princesa, gotta make sure that country club over here doesn’t freak the fuck out when jj and them boys get here,” he teased, sinking back into his seat as rafe scoffed in return. barry had the least of a crush on you — did he think you were drop-dead-gorgeous? absolutely, but he felt more of a need to make sure that you were comfortable around him, he’d felt a weird brotherly sense of protectiveness over you.

topper and kelce, however, they had school boy crushes on you. they found you to be so kind and adorable, maybe due to rafe’s strict demeanor towards them, they were often silent or carelessly staring at you. kelce was more reckless than topper, falling victim to many scalding lectures from rafe, due to how many times he’d been caught ogling over you. nonetheless, you remained impartial to topper and kelce, maintaining your kindness towards them.

“you two gonna keep fuckin’ starin’ at her, or are y’gonna speak up?” rafe called out, his eyes low and jaw tight as his knee began to bounce while he subconsciously dug his ring clad fist into the plush of your thigh. you silently tapped your nails against rafe’s belt buckle, causing his eyes to fall on yours as you silently pleaded for him to calm down. rafe lightly slapped the side of your thigh in acknowledgment with a roll of his eyes.

topper let out a nervous laugh, running his fingers through his hair with a forced smile, “yeah man, we’ll be there!” he laughed once more, before focusing his attention on downing the rest of his beer.

“can’t wait!” kelce added, refusing to make eye contact with neither your or rafe, an embarrassed smile now pulling on his lips.

letting out a laugh of false humor, rafe roughly grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, his eyes set directly on kelce. you let out a shocked gasp into rafe’s mouth, humming in excitement as his tongue slid across yours, both of your mouths eagerly fought to deepen the kiss, before rafe pulled away from you, leaving you dazed as he wiped your smeared lipgloss from his lips. “keep lookin’ at her and i’ll fuck her in front of you — y’can ask topper if m’being serious,” rafe swallowed, bring his bottle of beer to his lips as your eyes widened in embarrassment, your swollen and smeared lips parted in shock.

topper awkwardly shifted in his seat as barry let out an amused laugh, “shit, y’all got it bad for this girl,” he commented, taking another swig from his beer as rafe glanced at you, motioning for you to sit on his lap.

you were quick to comply, your plush ass now sat square on rafe’s bulge, his hand resting on your stomach as his chin leaned on your shoulder, “stay still,” rafe whispered, pulling down the front of your skirt as you felt him shift underneath you, “keep your legs closed, mama,” he huffed lowly, leaving your eyes widened at the feeling of rafe’s thick tip sliding into you in one fluid motion, a sharp exhale leaving your lips as you forced yourself to hold in a moan.

your eyes remained blown and bewildered as you made an awkward eye contact with kelce, your lips parting in a silent moan as rafe leaned back into the seat, remaining subtle as he raised his hips slightly, his tip lightly grazing your g-spot.

“let’s see how long it takes him to figure out that my dick is in you, right now,” rafe chuckled, the volume of his voice carrying only to your ears. rafe’s hand remained on your stomach as he brought his beer-clad hand to his lips, taking a cool and long sip.

[virune]

Oh oh story prompt!

"After a rather long day, two very tired hedgehogs find out they've been sharing a secret resting place"? Hope that makes sense, just two hedgehogs being like "oi this is my isolated sleepy spot-" LMAO

Sonic was bone-tired.

Eggman had really pulled out all the stops today. Droves upon droves of badniks, all powered by a chaos emerald that the doctor had somehow managed to get his mitts on. Then, if that weren't bad enough, he'd even brought Metal Sonic along with him, if only to add insult to injury.

It was all over now, at least: with the help of his friends - Tails' smarts, Amy's perseverance, Knuckles' strength, and Rouge's cunning, the doctor's evil plot had been sufficiently brought to an end, one destroyed badnik at a time.

"Wasn't expecting you to join the party, Rouge," Sonic had told the bat, smiling at her as she dusted off her immaculate clothes.

"Well, let's just say I happened to be in the area." Rouge's replies always seemed to be intentionally cryptic, Sonic noticed. "And besides, any chance I have to knock that rotten doctor down a peg, I'll take. He's a nuisance for all of us."

"Hah! Can't argue with that." Sonic rubbed his arm, and then reached out a hand just as Rouge was about to fly off. "Wait! I - can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Big Blue." There was a twinkle in the bat's eye, one that Sonic only usually saw when Shadow was nearby. Speaking of which…

"How come Shadow wasn't with you? Is he… on a mission?"

"That's right." Rouge's eyes seemed to glitter even more, as though she could sense his disappointment. "Very important business. I'm sure you understand."

Sonic offered a smile. "Yeah."

"Why, were you hoping to see him?"

"What - I - no! I was just curious! You two are friends, aren't you?"

Rouge's hand found a place on her hip, pinning Sonic in place with a gaze that seemed to be able to find anything it ever searched for. She had always been so incredibly perceptive - especially when it came to Sonic's little… crush.

"Of course," she said, her voice smooth and nonchalant. It made his fur stand on end. "Don't sweat it, hon. I'm sure you'll get to see him soon."

Before Sonic could babble out a flustered reply, Rouge took off at last, disappearing into the darkening sky.

Wow, was it that late already? Despite his frazzled nerves, Sonic found himself feeling tired, mouth stretching open into a generous yawn. Well, since Eggman had been taken care of, surely it couldn't hurt to grab some shut-eye.

Luckily for him, he knew a nice little spot. Somewhere quiet and undisturbed. And it wasn't too far from here - at least, not at the speed he was capable of.

And so, with a final wave goodbye to his friends, Sonic vanished up the mountain in a cobalt blue streak.

---

Someone was in his spot.

Even from up on the bank, Sonic couldn't miss the orange glow coming from the cabin windows, nor the smoke billowing from the chimney. It was getting darker still, and somebody had stumbled upon this place and made it their own.

But who?

This old cabin had been left, seemingly abandoned, up on a mountain. Surely nobody could find it under normal means. Sonic himself only found the cabin because he'd decided to take a detour from his usual running path, winding up the mountain until he was pushing open the door to look inside.

It was a nice little cabin, too. Nobody came back to claim it so Sonic decided to… well, make it his own little place, so to speak. He didn't have any qualms sleeping outside, but sometimes curling up in front of a warm fire was nice too. So what if he wanted to indulge himself from time to time? He thought he'd earned that at least, saving the world as often as he did, and as he continued to do.

So to discover that someone else had snuck in while he'd been distracted made him a little annoyed.

He didn't want to just barge in the front door - after all, if they were capable of scaling the mountain, Sonic couldn't underestimate whoever was inside. Was it Eggman? Had he found the cabin somehow? Had he followed Sonic there and set up a trap?

Whatever the case, Sonic had to be ready for a fight.

He approached as quietly as he could; stealth was never his forte, but if he wanted the upper hand, then he needed to be delicate. After all, he'd hate for his beloved cabin to get destroyed in an altercation. Maybe he could take down the intruder swiftly, or find some way to lure them out before they fought. Keeping the cabin intact was his main priority.

Sonic went to peek through the window, but he grit his teeth with some irritation to find that the curtains had been pulled shut. Damn. What now? The front door lacked any windows or mail slot. How could he get inside without being noticed?

He saw it then. On the second floor. An open window.

Hah! Had the intruder completely forgotten to close it? Sonic took a couple steps back and gauged the distance - he could probably climb up. A running jump would be too noisy. So, giving himself a moment to stretch, he braced himself against the bricks and began to ascend.

His fingers hurt, digging deep in the crevices between each brick, but he pushed on. The window was inches away now. He pushed himself up, brushing the windowsill with his fingertips and hoisting his body up. Slowly, silently, Sonic climbed through and into the bathroom.

It was dark. But it was also empty. A good sign. That meant he hadn't been caught yet. He closed the bathroom window behind him before he tried the door handle, opening it as carefully as he could to avoid making any sound. It was so uncharacteristic of Sonic to move this slowly, but he tried his best, because his favourite sleeping spot was in jeopardy.

He tiptoed along the carpet at the top of the stairs and peeked down over the railing to see if he could spot anything. The glow was brighter from here and he realised it was coming from the hearth in the living room. Someone was using up all the firewood! Oh, the nerve. If they weren't dangerous, maybe Sonic could convince them to leave.

The first step creaked under his weight and Sonic froze, expecting alarm bells to sound off, expecting a trap to spring, expecting badniks to swarm him. Anything. Instead, nothing happened. The fire crackled. The peace continued on.

OK, well, he wasn't in trouble yet. He still had time to figure out who the intruder was. Taking a deep breath, Sonic made his way down the rest of the stairs. He was standing near the doorway now. The living room was just around the corner. He could see the shadows of a figure dancing on the opposite wall; whoever they were, they'd made themselves pretty comfortable on the sofa.

Sonic squinted his eyes. As he focused harder, he realised that the silhouette looked vaguely familiar. They weren't moving - were they asleep? - but he couldn't deny that the stranger seemed to have quills that turned upwards at the end in a way that was so distinct, so unnatural for a hedgehog to have.

He inhaled again, and he caught the unmistakable scent of lavender in his nose.

It couldn't be.

He turned the corner at last.

"You!"

Shadow jolted upright, the book he'd apparently been engrossed in falling from his lap and thudding against the floor. His red eyes met Sonic's, burning brightly against the glow of the fire.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Shadow asked.

"What am I - what are you?" Sonic cried, incredulous. "This is my cabin!"

Shadow removed the green woollen blanket from his legs to stand up. "Don't be ridiculous. I found this cabin months ago."

Sonic balked. That couldn't be right. He found the cabin. He'd been coming here regularly for weeks - months, even!

"I don't understand. This is my favourite sleeping spot. I didn't think anyone else knew about this place…"

Shadow retrieved his book from the floor, dog-earing the page he was on and sitting back down. "That makes two of us."

"So, spill. How often do you come here?"

"Couple times a month. When I have a moment."

"So do I." Sonic stepped closer. "Listen, I had to deal with Eggman today. Rouge was there. Where were you?"

"Elsewhere," was all Shadow answered.

Sonic clenched his fists. He was always happy to see Shadow, although he'd never admit it, but he wasn't happy about this new discovery.

"Alright, well. I'm pretty tired, and I wanted to rest here tonight…"

Shadow stared at him. "So?"

"So!" Sonic fumbled, gesturing vaguely to the door. "Leave! So I can relax."

Instead of leaving, Shadow tilted his head to the side. "Why don't we both just stay here? I'm willing to tolerate it, if it's all the same to you."

Sonic's mouth snapped shut. His face was warm, and not because of the fire. Absolutely not. There's no way he could relax with Shadow, of all people, around. Especially not in such a… comfortable, domestic setting. It was too much for him. He'd rather run a hundred laps through a blizzard than cope with his stupid feelings.

A hand patted the empty spot on the sofa, breaking Sonic from his thoughts.

"Sit. I want to finish this chapter."

Sonic frowned, willing his heart to stop racing. He eased himself onto the sofa next to Shadow, staring straight ahead. For some reason he was afraid to look. Shadow was much too close.

"Rouge recommended this book to me." Shadow's voice was soft and deep and it all but made Sonic nearly jump out of his pelt. "I'm about halfway through now. She expects to hear my thoughts on it."

"Oh?" Sonic dared to look, then, if only because Shadow's attention was directed down at the book in his hands. He scooted closer, just a fraction, to see what the writing was like. The scent of lavender was much stronger now. "Is it good?"

"I'm enjoying it," Shadow admitted. Sonic caught the ghost of a smile on Shadow's face and decided that he liked it, and would very much like to see Shadow smile more often.

"Good," was all Sonic could say, quite hopelessly, as he willed himself to relax into the sofa cushion. His eyes drifted closed for just a moment, exhaustion setting in as he basked in the soothing warmth.

"Let's agree that this cabin is off-limits for fighting," Shadow said. His eyes didn't leave the book, but Sonic wasn't so sure he was actually reading anymore. "It's too nice to ruin."

Sonic's mouth suddenly felt dry, but he worked hard to get his voice back. "Y-yeah," he stammered out, feeling like an idiot. "I don't think either of us will wanna give it up, right?"

Shadow hummed in agreement. "We'll just have to compromise. That means sharing."

"Sharing," Sonic confirmed. Despite himself, he found himself smiling at the idea.

Basked in the firelight, he snuggled just a bit closer to Shadow, whose body was as warm as the fire. He could probably get used to this, he reckoned.

Before he knew it, Sonic fell asleep to the scent of lavender and an arm around his waist.

[itsscromp]

5 months

A story inspired by this TikTok I hope you all enjoy 😊😊 word count:1.2k

Simon woke up to the all to familiar bright lights and beeping sounds of the hospital. He groaned in pain as he felt like he couldn't move. Thankfully he was spared as you were there to dim the lights after seeing him awake.

"Hey buddy... How are you feeling ??" You asked, To which he replied to a dry cough, water please.

You gently handed him the cup of water and placed the straw into his mouth, Taking a few sips. "What... Happened ??" He asked.

You looked down for a little bit and sighed. "The entire building was rigged with explosives, We began to run out before i found out you weren't behind me. Me and soap began to move the rubble that was in the explosives... and well" You looked over at his badly broken body. Both legs were broken, One arm was broken and 5 cracked ribs.

"The doctor said you won't be back on your feet for a least 3 months"

"Fucking hell..." He sighed.

Regardless, you were happy to keep him company and help him whenever you could. 3 months came by and he was finally free of those damned casts. He could be able to move freely.

But one night, upon closer inspection when he got out of the shower. He lost a lot of muscle, and seemed to gain a little bit of weight too... "This cannot get any worse" He started to tear up, He was already self conscious about his body as it is, this was just almost insult to injury.

He tried to shrug it off for the next week, trying to squeeze in any workouts as he could. But every time someone walks past him, he would always get some form of comment. "Nice tits lieutenant" "Need a training bra ??" "Give us one squeeze please ??" He had to fight every instinct to not throw a weight at there heads... But they were right.

He stood there in his room, looking at his worthless body, His abs weren't as defined anymore. His pecs could hardly be called pecs. His biceps seemed to almost have deflated. Not to mention the pudgy sides around his waist seem to top over. As he started to tear up again, He began to repeatedly smash the mirror in front of him. he hated seeing himself like this. He did with a fucking passion.

You heard the smashed glass and rushed toward his room, Trying your best to pull him away. "Easy easy !!"

"Get off of me !!" He cried out.

"Simon relax, relax... It's just me" You gently took his hands and squeezed them gently. Looking at him in the eyes.

You could see the anger, sadness and insecurity the had, He has already been through a lot and this... This just fucking hurt him.

"Come here, let me have a look" You gently took his hand and inspected it, Just grazes, not deep cuts. So you went and got the first aid kit.

As you treated his wound, he looked down at the floor, seeing the tears fall down. "I fucking hate myself..."

"Simon... Please don't say that" You finished wrapping has bandages and looked at him.

"I do, y/n... Look at me... I'm not what I am" He started to cry a tad bit heavier.

You gently wrapped your arms around him, you knew this was hurting him badly, you didn't want to see him hurt. So later that night, you began to figure out a workout routine. One that was while excruciating, you knew this would get him back to what he once was.

The following morning, you burst into his room, blowing a whistle, and making him jolt awake. "What are we still doing sleeping around lieutenant !! Gym gear on and meet me in the gym !!" You did your best coach voice and urged him out.

Simon was a tad bit shocked when he saw you, But regardless he got his gym clothes on and soon followed you. You had set everything up. Weights, cardio, courses, and protein shakes. "For our warm up I want you to do 30 push ups"

"Y/n..."

"Don't talk back, Don't give up come on let's go !!"

He knew you meant well as he did his 30 pushups. Today you were his best friend and now his coach, You had him do a lot of things. But when it came to rest period, you brought him over to the mirror.

"I want you to take your shirt off"

He froze as you said that, But you gave him reassuring eyes knowing that it was just you two, He trusted you... So slowly he took off his shirt, He looked away from the mirror once he saw his pudgy stomach. But you gently went up to him. "You know what I see Simon ??"

He kept his eyes away from the mirror but turned to look at you, Giving you a soft look. "I see... Someone who has worked really hard today. Someone who is the strongest being that I have come to know and love. Someone who I know will work hard to see himself again. It will take time, But I know you got this Simon. Just don't beat yourself up... I know this"

You struggled for a while on your body and how you looked as well, You didn't want to see Simon sad and angry at himself.

"Yeah... Ok"

After the gym session, he went back to his room and saw that the mirror had been replaced, he didn't think much to begin with, But he took your advice in hand and went over to it. Taking his shirt off again, this time looking at himself, while yes it will be hard... "I can do this, I can... It'll take time" He said as he gently rubbed his stomach and patted it.

The training sessions continued and got harder, But you helped push Simon to his limit and to the point where he didn't know he was capable of, Downing every protein bar or shake he could, and making sure he looked at himself in the mirror after every session, to learn to love the body that he is in.

5 months later.

Simon wiped his sweat as he placed down the weights, It was hard, excruciating, and sometimes even painful, But it was all worth it, he began to workout shirtless again like he used to. Walking to the mirror with the upmost confidence, looking at himself, and flexing his biceps, he saw the snake-like veins had come back. His manly pecs have sprung back to life, he smirked as he began to pop his pecs, his Terry crews vibes were you could say... "Popping off" and his 6-pack abs have been upgraded to an 8-pack. But the smallest difference is there was the tiniest amount of pudge on his sides. but he could let that slide, all he knew was that he was happy with the way he was.

You walked into the gym and saw him looking at himself, all happy. "I knew you could do it" You smiled up at him.

"No thanks to you sergeant" He smiled and ruffled your hair, he was super thankful for you, his best friend and coach. He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. "Ok muscles don't crush me" You chuckled as did he.

Simon worked his ass off for 5 months, and it paid off big time. All thanks to you.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[vonev]

Hey there! Can you do a Miguel x spiderwoman reader where during a mission Miguel accidentally hurts you pretty badly while trying to get you out of the way of the anomaly, leaving you in a medically induced coma for a couple days while you heal? I wanna see an incredibly gentle, guilt-ridden Miggy visiting you when you wake up and treating you like you’re made of glass

Calling (just to save you, I'd give all of me)

Miguel O'Hara x reader Oneshot

Words: 6.06k (yeah i know)

Warnings: Graphics depictions of Violence, Angst, Blood and Violence.

Summary:

A mission gone wrong, some crying, more suffering, rocky relationships (emphasis on the rocky part)

And after all of it, you prevailed. With him.

Tl;dr: Miguel is a crybaby

It was a normal Tuesday night at the headquarters. 11 pm to be exact.

God knows why you stayed as long as you did—having to juggle missions upon missions the entire week because Miguel decided to loosely throw them at you.

Capturing what seemed like an endless sea of anomalies.

“You’re our most capable.” He had said, not even facing you when he once again sent you off on another job to fend for yourself. 

Trying to ask to be replaced was met with a sounding “No.” from the big guy himself, so you stopped trying altogether.

Less questions, more work.

Even if the side of your ribs were bruised from the last encounter with a previous anomaly.

Whatever. Bringing your injury up would just have you end up being demeaned and insulted like a school kid who skipped last week’s homework. At least that was what you assumed.

You grew tired of it eventually, wanting to have more than 6 hours of sleep per day and being able to actually live your life—the birthday cake for a friend sat comfortably inside the fridge of your apartment lingers on your mind as you swung through the familiar sight of the city; another rendition of New York, another variant of an anomaly. 

That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy the thrill and adrenaline that came with the job—no, you loved it. No one ever told you how fun being a superhero can be (aside from the decades of trauma you had to go through) and being able to propel yourself into the air with webs as the people below you gawked at your presence. 

The New York breeze hit your figure like a welcomed embrace, the moon winked at you behind fading beds of clouds. You continue slingshotting yourself down the streets, deja-vu splashed in your face with how eerily similar the roads were to the ones back home; shaking your head, you let out a soft sigh and relish in the cold night’s wind. 

Today’s mission: an unknown entity that plagued Earth 1610, the only information you were given via a loosely thrown together email from Miguel was that the entity could possess powers greater than we all understood—but with a limited amount of time, you would (hopefully) capture it just in time before it discovered its full potential. 

You’d think with how smart the boss-man was, he wouldn’t send a sleep-deprived Spider into such missions with how severe things could turn if everything went wrong.

“I’ll send him an email to complain later, for sure.” You promised yourself; because you were supposed to do just that days ago when tasks started rolling in for you without breaks.

Solo-tasks, might you add.

A cherry on top of the already spoiled cake, salt on the wound, a slap to the face. You grunted, and an alarm sounding from nearby caught you by surprise amidst the (somewhat) quiet of the city. In the snap of a finger, you flung yourself in a different direction, changing the tides in the waves while the wind that hit your face came to a halt once you landed on a roof belonging to a rather tall building. 

The viewing angle from above gave you a clear look into what had transpired underneath.

You squint, arms folded neatly in between your thighs as you crouched over the ledge of the building; from what you could see, nothing was amiss—everything looked to be in place. Letting out an annoyed scoff, you were about to turn on your tail before the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering into pieces hit your eardrums. 

You immediately snapped around, and panic ensued when the people on the streets started screaming, running amok like wild animals scattering away into their safe spaces. You, on the other hand, now have to clean up the mess—you had no clue where this universe’s Spiderman was, nor did anyone brief you on it.

Nonetheless you approached the bust-up shop with a wavy heart, praying to something out there that there weren’t any critically injured persons. As you stalked near the front of the shop, you could hear loud banters inside; curious, you stare into the messy excuse for an interior: broken decors, smashed up shelvings, and items sprawled out across the floor inside.

You took the opportunity and shot yourself up to the ceiling, both your soles and fingertips clutching onto the surface, cautiously crawling further into the shop. 

“Please—” a voice yelled out, “Just let me steal your ATM machine!”

Your lips part, dumbfounded.

“No! Ey! Get away from—” You finally managed to grasp the scene that played out in front of you.

The store manager was running around with a bat in his hands, and the other person that seemed to be wearing a costume with black spots, a jean jacket slung over his shoulders and a rather cute bucket hat. To your surprise, the man evaded the attack when a black hole had been summoned under the manager’s feet, causing him to fall into the portal and out of another one…

…Right above you.

You yelped at the sudden contact on your back, the manager’s weight had you both falling face first into the shards-filled floor; his body cushioned by yours.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

The man behind you rolled off, allowing you to take a step and collect yourself as you slowly stood up. Debris started filling up your senses, and the pain from having been cut by thousands of glass shards made you wince in response. You pushed it all down, needing to finish the job as soon as possible so you could flee from more missions when you go back to the headquarters.

You even considered retiring from your spot in the team.

Speaking of spots…

You peered up, eyes catching onto the odd appearance of the man in front of you, who was still attempting to find a way to escape with the ATM. If you hadn’t been as irritated and grumpy as you were, you’d have found the situation hilarious.

“You gotta let that go, big man.” He whipped his head around, eyes darting around before locking in on you. “I’m sorry, I can’t—wait, you look different from my Spiderman.” His head tilted in confusion; you only rolled your eyes in retort, not wanting to drag your already long day out. Webs shot out of your wrists, launching them toward the direction of his foot.

Watching in disbelief as another hole appeared right where his foot would’ve been, the webs flinging into the black void and you felt the substance land on your back, knocking your balance forward.

“What the,” confused, you feel around for it, your fingers finding the source, tracing the substance behind you. “How did you fucking do that?” You glared him down, seeing his stature falter and hands thrown up into the air in defense. 

“Whoa whoa, language!” He wagged a finger at you, giving you his head shake of disapproval. 

“Shut up.”

“That’s just plain rude, young lady—hold on, you’re a lady right?” Your eye twitched in annoyance. 

“Has anyone ever said you’re way too chatty?” 

He was fidgeting with his hands, looking away and feeling nervous, unsure of how to respond to your jab. Before he could get another word out, the bottom of your feet connected with his chest, sending his body back against the wall with a loud ‘thud’ watching as he fell on his backside.

“Oof.”

 He let out a soft grunt, rubbing the sore spot on his butt; right before you did a chain-attack, he caught your foot with another one of his black holes, your foot now appearing on the other side of the store and out of sight.

“That wasn’t very nice. Listen, I just need some money, let me go and—” He threw the ATM onto a pile of cans and started rolling it out of your way, pushing the huge machine as fast as he could. Pulling back your foot in time, your calf connected with his face, making him trip over the cans comically with his arms flailing in the air.

You quickly reached down to fetch your trap to secure your win.

That would be too easy, though. 

Side-stepping a portal of void that almost ate you up, you winced at the pain that shot through your ribs due to your rapid movements. Biting through the pain, you maneuvered to where his body laid and tackled him to the ground once more when he tried to stand up; from then on, it was a cat fight. With you trying to get him detained and him attempting to pry you off of him.

Suddenly, another hole manifested beneath the two of you, watching in horror as you both fell through and landed harshly on top of the rooftop you originally occupied prior; the back of your head collided into the concrete ground; a poor excuse for a cushion.

It fucking hurt.

You were pretty sure you smelled blood.

He tried to get up, but you tumbled the two of you near the ledge of the building; in the midst of all the actions, he found dominance over you when he had your upper body hanging off the ledge with his grip on the collar of your suit. Blood thumped through your eardrums along with the loud horns of traffic, your heart racing in a million miles, if anyone looked up, they'd think you were insane for getting yourself in the situation. 

Maybe you are. 

Call for backup.

It would be so easy; the gizmo hugged your wrist, just one push of a button and someone will be here—

Too late, his grip on you wavered and you plummet into the air.

Fuck.

You quickly attempt to shoot more webs to find purchase on something, anything. 

But terror washed over you the second you realized you had conveniently run out of webbing fuel—being the dumbass you were, you had completely forgotten to get it refilled before the mission at the station back in headquarters.

Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the impact; your body going limp to soften the blow.

You let out a loud yelp when something flew out of the air beside you and clashed against your body, but you don’t feel the shock at the contact—instead, the warmth of a large arm wrapped around your midsection and you feel the cold wind whiplash you.

Opening your eyes, you were (pleasantly) surprised to find that Miguel caught you just in-time, right before you could suffer any more blunt injuries. You almost cried at the sight of him, his name teased the tip of your tongue, wanting to wrap your arms around him for a hug; you pulled yourself back just in time before you could react on your impulse.

You were still mad at Miguel, you have to act like it.

Before you know it, he came to a halt around a corner into an alleyway and swung down to place you down gently on the ground, your feet now free from the feeling of being dangled in the air. His eyes flickered over your face, then down your body; his arm still pressed into your waist as he squeezed your flesh out of instinct. 

Bad move, the squeeze, no matter how gentle, pressed into your bruised rib. The pain sending a wave of shocks throughout your torso, you immediately pushed him away with a small hiss. You couldn’t see it, but hurt flashed through his eyes when you forced yourself out of his grip, his arm falling back to his side; unknowing of its purpose.

He wouldn’t willingly admit it, but the rare moments he would get to feel the heat of your body against him sent him to heaven: like that one time your shoulder pressed into his at the cafeteria, the times your naked fingers would brush over his skin, when your back used to press up on his during missions back in the days he went with you. Sinfully, he would recall that specific time your chest pushed into his torso during a stealth mission, the temptation to take you right there and then a devilish thought that circled his mind.

(Don’t ask what he had done in the shower after the mission debrief.)

That was part of the reason he had stopped frequenting jobs with you, even when you came into his office and invited him; you were met with rejections after rejections, soon enough, he noticed that you stopped trying—and the painful gnaw at his chest reminded him of your growing distant attitude with him, too. Miguel refused to let his personal life interfere with his business, and the last person he would want to hurt was you. 

Unknowingly, he had done exactly that whenever he would gradually push your presence away.

Having meals weren’t the same anymore, not when you stopped showing up to his office everyday with his favorite food like a routine, he’d eat less and less as the days passed by; without you there to continuously pester him, he found himself reverting back to his old habits—working after late hours, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, barely talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. 

He had came to the realization that somehow, long ago, your presence had become such a grounding part of his life; the gentle yet persistent reminder that he deserved love and care too, to stop hogging all the responsibilities alone and share his burden with someone who he can trust, and it all manifested into you.

Miguel recognized he royally fucked up when you both barely see each other face-to-face anymore, you stopped showing up to debriefings, the only time he’d get to remotely speak to you was when he sent you off to missions.

He knew he was harsh, yes, but he fully believed in your capability to handle yourself—but while he was relentless, he still cared. 

Hence why he arrived and interjected your mission, wanting to extend a helping hand.

“Fuck—what are you doing here?!” You shouted over the loud traffic, emotions taking control of your mind, before Miguel could protest, screams broke out from beside you both. “Shit, let’s get this over with, big man.” 

You paused, momentarily forgotten that your webbings ran out of fuel and mentally slapped yourself in the face.

As if he read your mind, he fished out a tube from behind him and threw it your way. You caught it just in time and practically rushed to throw the lid off, tipping the mouth over to allow the liquid flow into the web gadget integrated into your suit. You threw a mumbled “thanks” his way and chucked the tube out of sight.

“Come on,” you nod toward the opening of the alleyway with an arm raised and pull yourself upward with your web. 

It was supposed to be an easy job: brawl with the anomaly, win the brawl, capture it.

But this one was starting to grate your nerves—and you were sure Miguel felt the same too, you could sense the rage radiating off of his huge stature like sirens; chasing down the guy who had re-introduced himself as the Spot when you caught up with him earlier, unintentionally finding himself falling in and out of accidental portals he materialized. 

“Stop running!” Yelling, you proceeded to jump into the portal he went through, he was always barely a hair away; yet as clumsy as he was, managed to get away every single time.  

“Stop chasing me!” Spot shouted back, tripping over the back of his foot and almost falling into one of the portals entirely. 

He managed to barely swerve out of the way when Miguel lunged at him from behind, his claws swooping in the air where Spot used to be. It became a constant back-and-forth; you would shoot yourself closer to him and Miguel would come from his back, essentially cornering him, then Spot would narrowly escape; rinse and repeat. Exhaustion crept up on you eventually, nagging the back of your mind as you tapped into your adrenaline to stay awake and alerted of your surroundings. 

Miguel noticed it, too, and he went even harder—the intensity of his ferocity grew when he realized he had to end things soon before someone gets injured; he prayed to God it wouldn’t be you. 

Somehow, more portals had opened up, and all you could do was avoid falling into them; the possibility of coming face first into the asphalt roads were too high for you to take the chance. Miguel almost got caught in one; hardly dodging a portal that conjured on the wall he stuck to. But unlike you, he was willing to test out his theory, reeling his body back to prepare launching himself into the portal. And he did just that—his reward? A high-five of his face with another set of walls. 

He grunted, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you latching onto Spot’s back; desperately trying to push him down onto a solid surface. You both spun into another portal and crashed on a different rooftop, Miguel rushed over with claws ravaging the innocent bricks he crawled on; when he went up, he saw the two of you gasping for air on the ground. 

You clutched the side of your rib, an indescribable amount of pain overtook your senses; you were pretty sure your ankle was broken when it was caught on a pole. Spot got up earlier than you, and was about to speed off before he felt a large hand tugging at the back of his shirt. 

It all happened so fast: reeling in a punch, the adrenaline pumping in Miguel’s veins, Spot’s utter shock at the face of Death himself, the supposed impact of the fist with the other’s face…

…Only for the force to be directed to you in the heat of the moment when a portal happened to manifest where Spot’s face would’ve been.

It was an accident, really, an unintentional line of actions from Spot— he was way too out of it when he figured he was about to go through his final moment; his portals shot out in panic, lucky for him, it was the reason he evaded Miguel’s death fist.

Unlucky for you, the other end of the portal had been right in front of you the whole time; yet in the midst of you processing your surroundings, you hadn’t realized quicker that your senses were screaming for you to dodge out of the way.

The conclusion? You, having just been punched in your guts, falling down a building amongst the New York you shouldn’t have stepped a foot in if you knew the outcome at all. The gust of wind pumped in your ears as you fell, and fell.

No worries—you’ve got your handy-dandy webs, right? 

Oh how you wished you hadn’t been wrong.

Miguel had snatched a random refill off of his own shelf when he was about to depart, not bothering to check for its content after his recent use; just shy of a quarter, barely enough to last an average Spider’s fill an hour of webbing. In his defense, he had been distraught when Lyla popped in earlier to warn him of your vitals: most specifically your injuries. He would’ve never sent you out in the first place if he knew you suffered from broken ribs.

But all you knew was that you somehow fucked yourself over.

Panic ensued.

And now, you suffered the consequences of his actions.

“Miguel!” A call for help; he was your last hope.

The fall wasn’t a particularly long one, and you normally would breeze through the impact and pain like a champ—except you have never fell from a building with ribs that squeezed your organs tight, ankle that would most likely not support your landing even if you tried, the adrenaline you lived off of now benched on the side leaving you stranded for some form of strength to pull yourself together in the span of a few seconds.

Your shoulder hit the ground first, then your head; the harsh impact created a string of reactions to your already abused body: pain shooting up your nerves, the corners of your eyes dimming despite the bright lights flashing around you.

Unbeknownst to the three of you, policemen started showing up once someone reported a supposed break-in at the shop you investigated; the sound of blaring sirens filled your eardrums like honey whilst the flashing of red and blue assaulted your blurry sight. 

Barely able to distinguish what was happening in front, you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbow; but the more you tried, the more lights started diminishing in your vision. Breathing has never felt so difficult, either.

Miguel was a step too late when he came to you; after having realized what had occurred, he dropped Spot in an instant like a hot potato, prioritizing saving you instead of proceeding with the mission’s objective. He was aware of the policemen being present at the scene when they started noticing your slumped body in the middle of the road, crowding together to watch as you struggled to lift yourself up—they all stood and observed, no one reached out to help, none.

He was by your side right away, his one hand supporting the weight of your head while the other clutching at the hem of your mask, lifting it over your eyes.

His hand felt…wet.

As if things couldn’t possibly get worse: he watched the stiff expression on your face contorted with pain, you seemed to have recognized him as you slowly reached a weak arm out to caress his face, your thumb gently glossing over his cheekbone, your touches light like feathers. His mask concealed the despair in his features, the hues of red and blues still shone on his back as everyone else stayed aside and spectated. 

Your hand soon dropped to your side, unmoving, your head now heavier than ever in his hand.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

Miguel held your small, delicate hand into his, the tears teasing the corner of his eye as he watched your life slipped by those eyes of yours he’d grown to adore.

-

“You can’t live like this, Miguel.” 

Lyla crossed her arms over her chest, trailing Miguel’s tiny movements on the desk. His fingers delicately move across the keys on the keyboard, imputing password after password for locked files. 

“Seriously,” Lyla sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re starting to worry me.” 

“Nothing to worry about, Lyla, get me the decoded files from yesterday.” Miguel ignored her pestering, choosing to focus on his work and his work only.

That was his routine for the past 5 days or so.

After the entire slip-up in Earth 1610, Miguel had been busting his ass to hunt down the anomaly for every hour he was awake; granted, he did take care of other responsibilities too—babysitting Mayday on Monday, depatching teams to bring back more anomalies, and visiting you every day. 

And also dealing with that kid he found out to be the Spider-man from Earth-1610.

He hadn’t missed a single day of visiting you, who still laid in the hospital bed at the infirmary he cleared out for you. 

Everyday. On the clock. 5 am when he woke up, when lunchtime struck, and in the late hours of night when he should be spending on getting enough rest.

Lyla had been there through it all, watching Miguel’s tormented back every single minute he was awake as he continuously starved himself off of the bare minimums. 

Food, water, sleep, you name it all. 

And as his assistant, his well-being was her number one priority—hence the constant pestering that would be swatted away, food that went cold despite Peter having brought them in hours ago upon Lyla’s request and his growing concern for his friend in the chair. Jess’s occasional visits to check up on Miguel, wondering if the day she stepped in would be the day she would see his lifeless body on the desk with how much neglect he reflected on himself. Even the new recruits dropped in to say hello, just to see that he was doing…okay in his book: which was not okay in everyone else’s.

Everyone was worried. 

About you, of course, and him too.

The situation had clearly taken a heavy toll on him.

But Lyla understood more than anyone else that it wasn’t because of his work, his dwelling traumatic past, or how he barely had any rest for the past 120 hours. 

No one else knew of his infatuation with you except for her—and that was only because she snooped through his things, finding the little knit-knacks he kept from all those times you came and dropped it off: the tiny Miguel plushie you made when you impulsively decided to take up knitting that one time, the shirt of yours you had forgotten to take back when you visited his office at late hours, soaked from the rain outside and sneezing everywhere. 

“Hey Mig—“ sneeze. “I came to see y—“ sneeze. “I—“ and you sneezed. 

“For the love of God,” Miguel turned around, seeing your soaked clothes that cling to your body, and having to turn away for just a tiny moment to compost himself when he caught sight of your curves. 

Groaning, he pulled out one of his drawers and shuffled through and fished out a new shirt—undoubtedly his with how large it was. 

His shirt was a sight on you, fitting perfectly yet still draping over your thighs just slightly when you went to get changed. 

The image of you that night burned into his head, forever engraved in his brain. 

Then there was the polaroid picture of the two of you when you had forced Miguel to “take a selfie with me!” when you picked up a weirdly shaped camera from a thrift store in your universe (something something you saying to be smart and conserve money). “It’s called InstaX, it—here, let me show you” and snapped a picture. 

In the picture, his expression was one of annoyance, and you were squeezed against his shoulder with a toothy grin on your face. 

Lyla saw how Miguel would come back with tiny frames that he thought would frame the film perfectly, but ultimately was defeated when he decided to just stick it in-between the pages of his files labeled: Classified.

She was the only one ever to know the content inside: mostly pictures of Gabriella’s (poor) baking, first day at school, when Gabriella won her first competitive soccer match; and then there was you.

She knew how important you were to him; yet to her complete and utter confusion, Miguel always kept to himself about his little (big) crush—even though she could clearly tell you were just as interested as he was, too. 

He was the densest man you had the pleasure of knowing. 

He never made a move; and now, he might never get another chance to.

Now you were reduced to a sitting duck, once a shell of what you were; your body laid in the bed he frequented more than his own, the lively demeanor that you carried with you before turned into a tune of stable heartbeats beeping from the machinery installed next to you: the only indicator you were still alive. 

Guilt was the only thing he knew for a while; when he’d step into the shower as the cold water bit the skin of his back, like he was willingly punishing himself for allowing that incident to happen. 

Everywhere he went, whatever he did, he was only reminded of your face.

“If only I had been there sooner.”  

He’d say to himself while he peered down at your figure, not there but, there. You were barely hanging, and part of him knew that it was your determination to fight through whatever battle was going on inside your head during the coma. 

“Por favor,” his hand held yours, careful to avoid the IV’s that pricked your skin, forehead sticky with sweat after having just come back from a specifically tough mission that day.

“Concédeme este deseo.” 

He would whisper sweet-nothings to you, praying to himself at night by your bedside that you’d wake up one of these days with that smile he yearned for. And for someone to finally share the extra empanadas he would always bring in, to hope that one day, you’d get to share this joy with him. 

The joy of eating together again.

So imagine his surprise when he walked into your room tonight, and found you sat up with the metal frame supporting your back. 

You were awake.

And most importantly, you were alive. 

He had never sprinted so fast in his life; the warm pack of empanadas he brought from the cafeteria drop to the floor, the gentle ‘thud’ catching your zoned out self by complete surprise, your face softened once your gaze landed on Miguel; who was frantically patting your face and checking your vitals to confirm that yes, you are here. 

Your hand reached up to palm his that lingered on your cheek, his eyes finally settled on you, slowly taking in the fact that you were now right there in front of him. 

“Miguel,” a small knowing smile tugged at your lips, your eyes the most gentle he’d ever seen. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

He was still so afraid, so afraid that you would just slip by his fingers again; so he held onto you for dear life, fingers gripping your one cheek and hand with the others. 

“Estoy tan contenta de que estés aquí,” You whispered. 

A soft quiver of his lips; barely there—that was when the dam broke, and his tears started flowing down his sullen cheeks. 

You panicked, wondering if you had butchered your Spanish so bad you shamed him to tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry?” You tilt your head in confusion and worry. Miguel only shook his head, a small chuckle emitted from him; as if he knew what you had been thinking. 

“Don’t be sorry, silly.” He looked up at you with those earnest eyes of his; ones that melt your heart and warm your soul. You’d taken a liking to him early on; though you weren’t sure when it started, only where it started: during a mission, when the two of you grew physically close, so close.

His breaths fanning down your face, your breathing grew heavy with each and every second; that was when you knew you were in too deep. 

You would know it’d take heaven and hell to pull you apart from this man. 

There he kneeled, lips on the back of your hand as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, enjoying the way hues of red spread out on your cheeks. 

There was no way of escaping it now: the pent up tension of a confession teasing the air around you both, and soon, one of you was bound to crack.

“I have something to tell you—“

“I have something to say—“

Only that you both did it at once, together.

Miguel stared at you, lips slightly parted with the ghost of his words and eyes widened, then he cracked into a fit of roaring laughter—and you joined in.

Laughter filled what was once a room only occupied by the sound of your heartbeats on the machine, the two of you clutched each other’s hand, the high soon dying down to mere giggles; as if you two were high-school sweethearts with muffled chuckles thrown at each other in the back of the class. 

You two were in your own little world, a bubble that secured around your bodies, forever molding the shape of what once was and what will be. 

Wiping away the happy tear in your eye, you stared at Miguel’s devilishly handsome face, and the gorgeous smile you oh-so-rarely get the privilege of seeing. The muted rhythm of his chest rising and falling, in sync to yours, like two lovers on the dance floor—not even the sky could stop your love for each other. 

“I love you.” 

You blurted out; sure, you were 98% certain Miguel reciprocated your feelings, but that small node of anxiety still tugged at the back of your mind, terrified that you misunderstood his gestures all these times.

But wouldn’t the words he whispered to you during your sleep be all washed away if that was true? 

It was a risk, and you took it; it was now or never. 

“I—“ Miguel stammered, his heart screaming at him to just lean in and—

—kiss you.

His lips were nothing like you’d ever imagine; it was all the best parts multiplied by infinity: soft, full of all the love he had to give, and passionate. 

The kiss lasted for what felt like eternity—part of you wished it did, and you’d be content to die like this, your lips forever engraved on his. 

Miguel swore he heard the choir sung to him, albeit with crooked notes; but maybe because he did.

He slowly turned around, and you, who also does the same.

His colleagues had been quietly watching all this time from behind the doors: Peter with Mayday in tow as she cooed at the sight, Jess and that motherly smile of hers—Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr all stood with heads peeking through the gap of the doors. Even Lyla was there, although she simply floated over Peter's shoulder, joining in on the choir; their mouths agape with barely harmonized tunes of a holy song slipping out of their mouths. Amateur at best, unbearable at worst. 

Pavitr carried with the vocals, as always. 

They only stopped once they realized they had been caught; thinking that you two were in too deep to notice that there were more guests coming. 

“What…are you guys doing here?” Miguel asked, his tone more of a threat than a genuine question.

“We got some food—“ Peter perked up, but was instantly cut off by Hobie.

“‘o watch some sappy romance, ‘ey boss man?” Hobie high-fived Lyla's glitchy hologram, the latter wearing a smirk too wide for her face and nodding aggressively.

“Do the shoulder trick!” Miles yelled out; Gwen looked at him in horror then back to Miguel, this time, it was her who was shaking her head aggressively while crossing her arms into a giant X shape. 

Miguel snarled at Miles, not appreciating the cheesy suggestion of a pick-up line while everything went so well for him before they all busted in. 

“Remember to host a Sangeet bro! Oh Gayatri is super good at doing Henna—“  

“Hey I wanna be the flower girl!” Gwen piped up. 

“No, Miguel told me long ago Mayday would be—“

“She’s not even old enough, Peter, can she even throw a fistful of flowers?” Gwen crossed her arms in protest.

“I’ll have you know she’s an extremely capable baby, right, Mayday?” Peter looked down, only to see that Mayday had once again been chewing on his pink robe like always, blabbering with spit foaming at her mouth. 

“Oh Christ—“ Jess chuckled at the absurdity of the sight, a hand on her hip and the other tracing soothing circles on her belly; just as Miguel had been doing it with your hand the entire time.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh knowing that the special moment between the two of you had been ruined by a bunch of nosy gremlins. 

Your hand went up to remove his hand from his face, and even with how (incredibly) noisy the room became with banters and bickering thrown around; it was all quiet with him, only the stable heartbeats of you both reached your ears.

For once, your life was complete.

Miguel glanced into your eyes, the adoration swarmed your orbs; behind them, he could see far into the future where you both exist, always beside each other like glue to a paper—with you on his hips and his on yours.

And at last, Miguel had found what he had been missing from his life. 

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

Author's note: Thank you so much for this suggestion Anon, it's my first one ever and I hope i did not disappoint u.u, I LOVED writing this and it got me tearing up reminiscing some fictional (sexy) mexican man. Hope u enjoyed!

ps: pls excuse the spanish i only have spanishdict as my holy grail (pls also DO correct me if needed!)

[kookie-doughs]

Daddy Cupid: The Asshole

Modern!Donquixote Doflamingo X Reader

-When your father grows weary of your single life, he takes it upon himself to play matchmaker. With him knowing the entire city, he embarks on a mission to find you the perfect match.

Chapter 2: I'm literally the best stop complaining

The question of why you hadn't blocked Doflamingo's number had crossed your mind several times. The answer, you supposed, was that you kept it in case there was an emergency or something related to your father's persistent matchmaking efforts. But every time he sent you a barrage of messages, you questioned that decision.

This morning, you woke up to a whopping 41 messages from Doflamingo. As you scrolled through them, you realized that they ranged from him checking up on you, to him insulting you for being injured in the first place, and even included a series of videos where he flexed his wrist to prove he was perfectly fine.

His face was definitely not something you wanted to see first thing in the morning, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to block him without him coming to harass you afterwards.

Of course, Doflamingo isn't the only one who had your number. Among the various messages some are from friends like Smoker and Buggy, one message stood out and grabbed your attention - it was from Marco. Your heart skipped a beat as you read his message, curious about what he had to say or if he had any explanation for the awkward situation from yesterday.

You smiled at Marco's message, appreciating the prospect of a pleasant lunch to lift your spirits after dealing with Doflamingo's antics. You replied with the name of a good diner you knew, and when he confirmed the plan, you slumped onto the couch, contemplating what to do while you waited for lunchtime to arrive.

Excitement for your upcoming date with Marco filled you, and you decided to share your anticipation with your friends. You posted about how thrilled you were for the date and took the opportunity to block everyone related to Doflamingo from seeing your posts (sorry Law, i can't trust you). You wanted to ensure a peaceful and enjoyable day ahead.

As you looked at your excited post about the date your dad had set up for you, a strange feeling washed over you. Why were you so excited about this? It was yet another one of your father's matchmaking attempts, something that had become more of a burden than a source of joy.

The realization made your happy bubble burst, and a frown crept onto your face as you pondered why you had allowed yourself to feel this way about a situation you had little control over.

Feeling a bit more reluctant this time, you decided to dress more casually than the day before. Your preparations were quicker today, and you arrived at the diner in a more relaxed state, hoping that today's date with Marco would turn out better than yesterday's unexpected encounter with Doflamingo.

As you sat down at the diner, you tried to banish any thoughts of Doflamingo from your mind. However, your efforts were in vain as you saw the man himself walking towards you with a smug, shit-eating grin on his face. It seemed that he was determined to make your day miserable once again.

"Oh, love, I didn't know you'd be here. How perfect!" he cooed.

You prayed, hoping Marco would arrive already, as ignoring Doflamingo became increasingly difficult with each breath he took.

"Y/N sweetheart~ what would you want to eat hmm? you know since your disabled right now~ i can feed you and all that i wouldnt want my darling straining her hand. im just that sweet" Doflamingo sang.

"I can feed myself just fine," you retorted, struggling to maintain your patience.

Just as you were about to lose your cool, a ray of hope appeared in the form of your doctor, entering the diner. His smile brought instant relief as he approached your table.

"Hey, doc!" you called, your scowl turning into a smile. "Fancy running into you here. Three time in a row, aren't you lucky?"

He chuckled, "Maybe it's fate that brought us together."

Curious, you asked, "So, what brings you to this place?"

"I'm actually here for a lunch date," he admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Ah, a date?" you replied. "Where's the lucky person?"

"I have no idea," he laughed, "My dad arranged it and didn't tell me much, except that it's his friend's daughter."

Your eyes widened in realization. "Wait, Doc, is your name Marco?"

He raised an eyebrow, amused. "You've seen me twice now, and I had my name tag on both occasions." He laughed

Doflamingo, who had been hovering nearby, didn't seem thrilled with Marco's arrival. His confident demeanor wavered as he realized you might be genuinely interested in getting to know Marco better.

You couldn't help but laugh at your own obliviousness. "I guess I was too focused on my wrist to notice your name. Sorry about that."

Marco continued, "So, are you two on a date?"

You quickly clarified, "Oh, no, not at all. He was just asking for food." You stressed pushing him away. "Although I think, we're the ones who's supposed to be on a date."

Doflamingo, however, seemed unfazed by your attempts to distance yourself from him, and just glared down Marco.

As Marco and you exchanged introductions, the atmosphere shifted subtly. It felt different from the forced encounters your father arranged. There was a genuine sense of curiosity and interest in each other.

You took a seat at the small corner table, Marco joining you. Doflamingo, looking slightly put off, hovered around, but you chose to ignore him. You were more focused on Marco, trying to get to know the person behind the doctor you'd seen thrice this week.

"So, Marco, tell me about yourself. I've only heard about you briefly," you said, genuinely curious.

Marco leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Well, I'm a doctor, as you know. I recently moved to Grand Line to work at the hospital here. I enjoy reading, running, and cooking. And I have an inexplicable fondness for cats."

You chuckled, finding his quirks endearing. "That sounds nice. What made you choose a career in medicine?"

"It's a long story," Marco replied with a shrug. "But mainly, I wanted to help people. Plus, I'm a bit of a science nerd."

You nodded, appreciating his dedication to his profession. The conversation flowed effortlessly as you talked about your own interests and experiences. Marco was easy to talk to, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than you'd expected.

Meanwhile, Doflamingo seemed increasingly irritated by the situation, occasionally making snide comments and eye-rolling gestures. You tried to ignore him, but his presence was hard to ignore.

Eventually, you decided to order your meals, continuing to enjoy the conversation. It felt different from the forced setups your father orchestrated. With Marco, there was a genuine connection, a sense that you might have more in common than you'd initially thought.

Despite Doflamingo's interruptions and attempts to annoy you, the lunch date with Marco turned out to be surprisingly pleasant. You couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't a bad match after all.

He interrupted your conversation with Marco several times, making snide remarks and trying to draw your attention back to him. It was clear that he wanted to assert his dominance, proving that he could disrupt your day no matter what.

However, you were determined not to let Doflamingo ruin your time with Marco. You politely but firmly asked him to leave your table, but he wouldn't budge. His persistence was infuriating, and it became a battle of wills between you and the persistent man.

Despite Doflamingo's best efforts to annoy you, Marco remained composed and understanding. He didn't engage with Doflamingo's antics but instead focused on your conversation, as if he could block out the interference. His unwavering support and patience impressed you even more.

You nod towards Doflamingo, annoyance evident in your expression. "How do you manage to tolerate him?"

Marco lets out a chuckle. "Well, growing up in a household with at least 19 brothers can prepare you for dealing with all kinds of personalities. Edward adopted a lot of kids after my mom passed away, so I've had my fair share of interesting characters around."

Your conversation continued, but alas, Doflamingo always wins. His antics grew tiresome, and you decided it was time to end the lunch and escape the annoying man's presence. You politely excused yourself, thanked Marco for the pleasant time, and promised to meet him again soon.

"As long as it's not about your wrist." You both laughed.

As you left the diner, you couldn't help but feel that Doflamingo would continue to be a thorn in your side.

Doflamingo pouted, "Hey, I thought your dad liked me. Why is he introducing you to others?"

You shrugged, "He doesn't like you; he likes every bachelor in this city."

Doflamingo confidently declared, "That's me. He likes me. Tell him you don't need to meet others; the great me is already taking his time meddling with the likes of you."

"God I hope you stop."

"I'm superior to that Marco guy in every way. I'm smarter, stronger, taller, you name it."

"Mhm, congratulations. Now, could you please go away?"

"Why go on a date with him and not me? Rayleigh said he also suggested me?" Doflamingo asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

You turned to him, a mix of disgust and confusion on your face. "Please tell me that's not a genuine question," you replied, unable to comprehend how Doflamingo could believe he was a better choice.

"Well, I guess your puny, stupid brain can't comprehend my greatness," Doflamingo quipped with a smirk.

You scoffed in response and rolled your eyes, refusing to engage further in his arrogant banter.

Doflamingo continued with his arrogant comments as you walked together, making you grit your teeth in frustration. After a few more minutes, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Thinking it was finally time to get away from him, you walked ahead and leave him behind. However, you realized you had arrived back at your place.

You looked back at Doflamingo, who stood there, glancing around and occasionally locking eyes with you.

You blinked in surprise, realizing that Doflamingo had indeed walked you all the way home. You stood there, staring at the doorknob, not quite sure how to react to this unexpected situation.

"Are you seriously struggling to grasp the concept of opening a door? You've been standing there for a good ten minutes," Doflamingo jeered with his signature arrogance.

Your eyes widened, and you blinked in disbelief at his audacity. Staring at the doorknob as if it held the secrets of the universe, you stammered, "I-I..."

Doflamingo's mocking tone left you flustered and at a loss for words, making your response little more than an incoherent mutter.

Fueled by frustration, you exclaimed, "Whatever!" and slammed the door shut behind you. You rushed away, hoping to find a way to escape from Doflamingo's relentless presence. However, as you peered out, your heart sank when you realized he was still there, watching your every move with that infuriating smirk.

Your face burned with frustration as you stomped towards the elevator. Once you reached your apartment, you rushed inside and peeked out from the balcony, half expecting Doflamingo to still be standing by the door. To answer your question, he was walking and was a few meters away.

He had walked you home and even waited until you entered your apartment before departing. The whole situation left you confused.

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Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @nykie-love-anime @angstylittleb1tch @valen-yamyam16 @melodyidk @anicega @littlegreekgirl1 @rebeccawinters @manduse @alextheknight707

[dailydemonspotlight]

Slime - Day 59

Race: Foul

Arcana: Chariot

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

June 20th, 2024

...What is there even to talk about here? It's- it's just a slime, man!

Vee-ho, come on! There's gotta be something there! Just look beneath the surface!

I'd rather not?! Look at this thing! It's disgusting!

cOme OooN mAn.. yoU doN'T gotTA Do mE liKe thaT...

Don't you dare insult my friend, ho! Look, even with all generic monsters, there's stuff to dig into, right? Besides, this skit is get-hee-ng annoying! Vee-ho, just go ah-hee-d and start!

...Jesus Christ, okay. How do I even begin with this? SMT has plenty of classical monster tropes that it has its own spins on- whether it be werewolves, vampires, or, well... slimes. Especially in the earlier games in the series, when the concepts of demons were far less well refined, fantasy monsters that some would call generic were dime-a-dozen, and slimes were no exception. In fact, they were everywhere! Sludge Slimes! Green Slimes! Blobs! However, as the series went on and the identity of a demon was given far more thought, most of these extra slime variants began to fade, leaving us only with the classic Slime and his big brother, Blob.

The thing is, nobody is really sure where the concept of Slimes came from, as there has been no single mythological mention that can definitively trace to the idea of a slime itself. This leaves us with a big issue, though! What the hell is this things deal?! I think I have an idea, but it's a bit strained. Slimes as we know them today originally appear all the way back in the first edition of D&D, back in 1974, but it's believed that the idea can be traced back even further, into the 1930's.

In fact, I think I have an idea that has been attested to by... Reddit. Yeah. Slimes may be based originally off of a type of monster described in the Lovecraft book 'At the Mountains of Madness' called a Shoggoth, combined with ideas of slime mold, and a general need for a generic enemy type. Shoggoth are described as massive amoeba-like creatures that glow gently and have eyes blinking all over them, able to form any organs and limbs they need at will. To quote,

It was a terrible, indescribable thing vaster than any subway train—a shapeless congeries of protoplasmic bubbles, faintly self-luminous, and with myriads of temporary eyes forming and un-forming as pustules of greenish light all over the tunnel-filling front that bore down upon us, crushing the frantic penguins and slithering over the glistening floor that it and its kind had swept so evilly free of all litter.

This idea can be further traced back to the idea of the Demiurge in the Hyperborean cycle, a series of short stories written by Clark Ashton Smith, but... that's when the trail runs cold. Clark was good friends with Lovecraft at the age, and they took many cues from each other, and I couldn't even find a good date for the original story that Ubbo-Sathla, the deity I'm referring to, originates from. What makes this even more frustrating is that I can't find a good hook to go into with this! What do I focus on? What do I circle around?!

Just think! C'mon!

You're not helping... but okay.

Slimes could also be based on the classic movie 'The Blob,' and combining that idea with Shoggoths could have given rise to this classical idea, but the thing is, linking an actual origin is difficult. It's incredibly possible that slimes are just the brainchild of a bunch of nerds who wanted to come up with an enemy for their very first TTRPG, and it stuck around ever since, becoming a staple of the fantasy genre for years upon years to come. Shit, slimes are insanely popular everywhere you look! There are entire manga revolving around them, the Dragon Quest series's main mascot and icon is a slime, the first boss in Terraria is a slime, and it's the most popular enemy type- shit, Gelatinous Cubes are some of the first things most people think of when they think of D&D! I gotta respect the fact that, in spite of the frustrations in researching these things, they're both cute and incredibly popular.

OoOoooO, dO I haVe faAns?

I'm getting a headache... I'm gonna go lay down.

She-hee left her computer on... I guess I'll wrap this up.

Overall, in the see-hee-ries, Slimes actual-hee have a rather unique disposition, especially in the Devil Summoner games! I really do enjoy the fact that they don't look too fri-hee-ndly in a lot of the games- as opposed to the marketable mascots of several other series, slimes in Megaten can be downright gross looking. Sorr-hee for the BTS drama in this one, I promise we'll get right back to it soon! Slimes are just a bit hard to look into, y'know.

...dO I gEt My caNdY noW?

Yeah, gimme a sec.

[hydrangeasimagination]

Enough Rope

Royal Gay AU - An alternate universe created by @i-cant-sing​ surrounding Yandere BNHA Characters making up different kingdoms, where in which the Reader's is the daughter of Dabi and Hawks. Though reluctantly; as the relationship is strained by the murder of her mother.

Pairing(s): Sultan! Dabi / Todoroki Touya X Courtesan! Hawks / Takami Keigo || Implied! Barbarian Prince! Bakugo Katsuki X She/Her! Sultana! Reader, Implied! Past! Akaguro Chizome / Stain X Reader's Mother

Summary: It was inevitable that you'd take the throne, you were groomed you're whole life for it. But never did Dabi think you'd have to take it so young. Nor in the matter you took it.

A/N: I wanted to get some vindication, Dabi and Hawks absolutely boil my blood in this AU so I kinda get to be a little vicious. The reader looks like her mum but has Dabi’s eyes, also uses SHE/HER and is referred to as Sultana.

(My addition of Stain + his relationship with her mother are non-canonical to the actual series.)

Warning(s): Character Death/Murder. Blood. Obsessive/Possessive Behavior. Reader is staging a coup. Angst. Cursing. Crying. Parental Death.

... You looked so much like your mother.

The royal colors looked beautiful on you, dripping in golds and silks. Ornate and elaborate, the veil settled on top of your head accentuated the set of white pearls that crowned it. Today of all days, anyone that gazed upon the newly coronated sultana and was absolutely mesmerized by the beauty that was even rule.

You even threw out the traditional blues and were wrapped in a beautifully dyed peachy pink.

Your late mother's favorite color.

In your throne, sat upon the cushion, alongside a blond prince about your age.

While his fingers entwined with one, you lifted the other delicate hand - fingers adorned with your grandmother's rings - to silence the room.

Dabi knew this day would eventually come, that he'd see you become Sultana with conviction and ambition running through your veins. A time he'd hope to be alive to see, with Keigo beside him.

He was still amazed to see it, despite his disdain for the colors you chose and holding that dragon brat's hand just to spite him.

... But as he was in chains, there was little to be done.

His daughter, so frail and weak, usurped the throne from him in one fell swoop.

Her soft little hands dug into his chest to rip out his heart, covering the innocent skin in the blood of his stabbed back. Her soft little self reaching out to the cruelly harmed citizens of their home to call them to her side.

As he looked up at his daughter, who looked almost 10 years older. Her eyes glaring icy daggers through him like he was nothing was perhaps the worst thing of all.

Keigo is bruised from the chains, wings nonexistent, as Enji took care in scorching them down to nothing. He was a mess and struggling, hissing at the guard, who proceeded to slam the man into the floor.

"Show some respect to the new Sultana." Kai commanded, clearly enjoying seeing how the blond practically foamed at the mouth.

"She's my daughter," He hissed between his teeth, "Know your place."

Your gaze sharpened and your voice boomed, "Do not speak, whore, lest I have Akaguro tear your tongue between your teeth."

Dabi briefly mulled over the fact that you sounded so much like him, authoritarian, an intense need to just... Collapse, washing though him as he realized what monster he'd created. He can't speak, he just stared at you.

Keigo looked shocked and indignant at your insult and order, opening his mouth to chide you for language before fingers snapped out and gripped his tongue.

The mercenary was someone deeply close to your mother when they were young, her sense of charity and kindness reached his heart.

Someone that she probably would've married if not for the caste system. He was selfish and he loved her, but keeping her safe from his life of crime meant that he had to let her go... He would.

Akaguro adored you as easily as he did his beloved friend.

So hearing that you were torn apart by the death of your mother, meant he was the perfect sword to point at the opposition.

In pure combat ability, Dabi didn't stand a chance.

Chizome looked to you as your father did.

The latter can see the satisfaction in your eyes, a smile so gentle and relaxed that he wondered how long it had been since he's seen you like that. How long it had been since he’d seen this expression directed at him.

“Let go for now.” You sweetly said, eyes falling over your father.

Before, he took pride in your eyes.

They were blue, the bluest of blue, like his.

As they coldly took him in, as they hardened to ice and threatened to burn him down... He wondered where everything started to go wrong.

You leaned forward a bit.

Your burning gaze didn’t leave him.

Deepening, darkening.

“Do you love me daddy?” You asked softly, so softly that he almost didn’t hear you.

It was shocking, jarring, even more heartbreaking when your eyes instead fill with tears past all the anger.

A sadness that chilled him to the bone.

Breaking his aching heart further.

Especially as your voice trembled, watery.

Just...

Sent a spike of panic straight down to his gut.

Was this why you did it?

Because you believed he didn’t love you anymore?

“Of course.” He didn’t hesitate, didn’t breath as he watched your face.

“Then...” You frown, looking as if you were about to start crying. “Then would you kill for me?”

“Always.”

He meant it.

He’d done it before.

“T - then why do you keep hurting me? Why do you keep hurting my feelings?”

The sob that filled your questions just broke him.

Ripping into his ribcage so painfully that he felt himself feel faint.

“Why did you keep Keigo around knowing I hated him? Knowing that I couldn’t stand him?” You hiccupped, the blond beside you turning to wipe your face with his hands “Is... Is it because you love him more than me?”

“NO!!!” He nearly screamed.

His eyes were wide, manic.

Panic pounding his senses as he realized why you might have done what you did.

That the heartbreak drove you into taking control because you felt unloved.

That he drove you into it.

“Prove it...”

Your blue eyes remained set on him.

There’s cold steel suddenly in his hands, a dagger, long and ornate.

“Kill him.”

A terrified face filled his vision as he turned to his concubine, his former concubine, helpless. He opened his mouth, to beg or plead or speak, Dabi didn’t care. Even as his mind’s eye reminded him of the nights they spent together.

He didn’t love this bastard.

He now knew.

Knew that Keigo caused all of this.

His presence alone made you think that your father didn’t love you more than everything in the whole world. That drove the ugly thoughts of replacement into your lives.

Keigo took you from him too.

He brought the knife down.

Again and again and again and again.

The knife came down in a frenzy, wrenching horrible noises from Keigo’s throat.

Sobs for mercy, of apology.

“Da... bi....”

Dabi slowly returned to his mind’s eye, shaking.

Blood saturated him, from body to hair.

Staring down at the red soaked face of his former lover.

He felt nothing but contempt.

Nothing but hatred pouring through his veins.

A free feeling settled in his heart.

He looked at you, shakily smiling, “See?... I didn’t love him. I could never love him more than you.”

You stared.

Doe eyes wide and soft, still wet and dark.

The smile that graced your lips warmed his heart.

But also confused him.

Why did you look so sad all of a sudden?

“... Darling?”

You didn’t respond and looked behind him, nodding slowly.

“I’m sorry daddy, but there needs to be blood.” There’s almost a shame in you, heavy bags now seen as the light fell from the skylight.

Making you look like the gift from the gods you were.

He didn’t understand.

“And the people have suffered for long enough without retribution.”

Katsuki wrapped his arms around you, tucking you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head.

It made Dabi angry but he was confused more than anything.

“I do love you.” You said quietly. “But I can’t let you live.”

The pain lasted for a moment, just a moment.

He coughed, spitting up blood.

Akaguro’s hands were red, face almost solemn.

Dabi is still looking at you, in the face of his beloved daughter, still with crying eyes and sadness pouring from every pore. The vestiges of his vision begin darkening, body cold.

“I wished things could have been different.”

He did too.

The last thing he saw was the bluest of eyes.

Eyes bore instead by the face of his late wife.

... You really did just look like your mother.

[frogsmulder]

From the ship number ask: M/K 46.

I’m already looking forward to what you’re going to come up with! 😋

46 …out of envy or jealousy.

He Works Alone

during sleepless krycek has a heated argument with mulder; 1.1k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic and @leonardbetts

read on ao3

Alex follows Mulder out of the morgue, playing catch up to the quick clip of his oxfords in the tiled floor. He jogs up to him before he can reach the double doors to the main hallway; his own footsteps an indignant outcry for Mulder to slow down which goes ignored. He finally gets him to listen with a hand to grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face him. There is a vexed look upon Mulder's face as if he had been persecuted before Alex could say a word. 

Wary, Alex takes a breath and tries yet fails to keep the bite from his voice. “Hey, so what was that in there?”

“What?” Mulder's eyes search his for clarification; almost the perfect picture of innocence. 

He shakes his head slowly, incredulously. “You and agent…”

“Scully?”

“Yeah,” he chuffs half a laugh. “Do you usually get your pathologists by special request?”

Mulder glances at the hand still on his shoulder and Alex retracts it suddenly feeling his palm grow clammy. Mulder levels a stare at him, a strange cocktail of warning and attempted comprehension. As the seconds pass, Alex is caught in the tide of his dark eyes and feels his mouth dry and his cheeks flame under the scrutiny. 

Mulder turns around and continues to walk before he answers, “She's just a friend; we used to work together.”

Alex stands his ground. “Just a friend, huh?”

The speed with which Mulder whips back around to point a finger almost stuns him. “What are you trying to say?”

Alex looks away and licks his lips. “Did you not see the way she looks at you, Mulder?”

“Careful there, you almost sound jealous.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Look, I don't care how you go about finding leads in this investigation; I know your methods are…”

“What?” Mulder steps closer. “Spooky?” His eyes dart darkly between both of his, searching. “Like I haven't heard that before. You'll have to try harder to insult me Alex.”

“I was gonna say unconventional–and I'm not trying to insult you. All I'm saying is I'd like to be kept in on this investigation.”

“You were there.” His voice scratches low and quiet, earnest. 

Alex squares up to him. “You were keeping such close quarters I didn't hear a thing you said!” he hisses. “Whispering? Like she was the only other person in the room? You had your backs turned to me; I couldn't even read your lips.”

Mulder scoffs, the hot air tickling Alex’s face. “Now this right here–” he jabs a finger into Alex’s sternum– “this is why I work alone.”

Emboldened, Alex leans into the contact, forcing Mulder back. “But you don't! You were working with agent Scully just fine!” A pause hangs between them; the silence only filled by his ragged breathing. Alex makes the mistake of looking down at Mulder's lips. He closes his eyes, restraining, yet the thought lies hot and heavy at the forefront of his prefrontal cortex. The thought dares him to lean forward but instead he backs away; his best attempt to break the tension. “Look, man, all I'm asking for is a chance.”

His shoulders are suddenly grasped firmly and Mulder’s accusatory whisper rings in his ears. “You are jealous, aren't you?”

Finally snapping, Alex shoves him against the wall, his arm to Mulder’s throat exercising every inch of his strength over him. He hesitates only briefly, questioning whether he is really going to do this but the flush to Mulder’s cheeks decides for him. He crushes his lips to Mulders’ coaxing the reaction he wants out of him, the one he knows is there somewhere buried beneath his love for that pathologist.

Surprised, Mulder reciprocates briefly before pushing Alex away to the middle of the corridor, leaving him stranded in the open. 

For the smallest of seconds, he is afraid Mulder will sock his jaw. He watches his taut body for any hint of what will happen next. His hands resting at his sides don't curl into fists but flex outwards as if trying to dispel a feeling harbouring there. 

Mulder then strides forward, taking Alex in one swift motion, pushing him to the other wall pressing his body to the brick. His tongue licks as teeth nip at Alex's lips and it's Alex's turn to gasp in surprise: a fatal mistake as Mulder closes in. Hand spread on Alex's chest, Mulder digs his fingers in. Alex can't stop his eyes rolling back and a groan in his throat as Mulder flexes his hips into his own. 

Grasping his slender hips, Alex turns them and drops to his knees, making quick work of the pants’ fastening. His own gut clenches and his heart pounds at being eye level with Mulder's crotch. He curls his fingers into the elastic of his boxers and yanks them down, freeing Mulder's burgeoning erection. In his hands, Mulder grows and against his lips he twitches. Alex looks up through dark eyelashes as he teases the head of Mulder's cock with his darting tongue.

He wraps his lips around his cock and sucks him deeper into his mouth, watching as Mulder's head tips back against the wall, his chin pointing upwards and his neck stretching gloriously, so that Alex can see his Adam's apple bob when he swallows. He hears every puff of air that passes Mulder's slack lips and imagines his eyes screwed shut in perfect agony. He takes his time, slowly teasing every inch of pleasure from him in a play for power that is intoxicating. He’s impressed with Mulder’s size, with his pretty cock; he’s seen plenty to know the difference and the way Mulder sits heavy on his tongue is a sweet satisfaction. He hums his appreciation as he watches it disappear beyond his lips.

Another hiss from Mulder and his hands are tugging in his hair, encouraging him to be quicker, harder, rougher. Alex brings a hand to the base of his cock, squeezing tightly while he digs the fingers of his other hand into his ass cheek, pulling him forward. Mulder’s grunt spurs him on. 

With a gasp, Mulder jerks his hips forwards as he comes, and Alex doubles down, taking everything he has. After licking his softening cock clean, Alex lets him hang open in the cool air, pulling on a cool mask of indifference over his emotions; as if the taste of his cum wasn’t still toying with his taste buds and his own heart wasn’t pounding in his chest all the way down to his own hardon that desperately begged attention. 

He stands and is face to face with Mulder, smirking at his flushed cheeks. Head still resting against the wall, Mulder looks back at him, panting, “I could have you reported, Krycek.”

“I may be a green agent, Mulder, but this isn't my first rodeo.” He wipes the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb and then sucks it into his mouth salaciously, hollowing his cheeks for a punctuated effect. “I'll be back at the car when you need me.”

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Hey ophe! Hope ur day has gone well so far! could I request a fluffy hurt/comfort short-story/blurb for L where Reader is like really stressed because of something and starts like self-deprecating I guess and L is basically like “You dare say that about the love of my life?” Type of thing and like reassures the, or something? Idk if u really do that type of writing so no pressure! 😊

~🐹

I absolutely write this stuff, hurt/comfort is my life rn! This is completely inspired by the fact I couldn’t get my shoe off and today was a ruffff day.

The slam of the door shocked L out of his trance. The gentle re-open and close of it told him it was you disturbing his peace.

He heard a small sigh and a puff of the mattress as you flung yourself on it. Turning his head over his shoulder like an owl, L noted your distressed expression as you sat up and struggled with the straps of your shoes.

“My love, are you alright?” He got a weary grunt as a response.

Powering down his laptop, he stood and made his way over to your body.

“Y/n?” Suddenly you made a noise of rage and struggled with the straps harder, fingers shaking as you desperately tried to rip the shoes off your feet.

L’s hands found yours on top of the black wedges and you stopped, dropping your head and staring at your lap. He kneeled in front of you and searched for your expression under your hair but found none.

Gently, as if scared to hurt you, L began to undo the straps. Slowly, he pulled your foot out of the shoe and set it aside then moved onto the next. Once both your shoes were off, L’s hands moved lovingly on your feet, easing some of the ache of the day.

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” His voice was small but not because he was intimidated, he wanted to be careful with you.

Your eyes met his as his hands worked to massage your pain away.

“I… Why don’t people like me? Or talk to me? Or want me?” You looked so hopeless and pitiful L felt his heart lurch in his chest.

“People like you.” He assured you with as much conviction he could muster, “I like you. Watari likes you. I want you.” He added the last part as if it wasn’t obvious by the way he was looking at you.

You huffed miserably. “You’re my boyfriend, he’s basically your dad. That doesn’t really count, I’d be worried if you didn’t like me.”

L paused for a second then moved his hands up to your calves. “Who doesn’t like you?”

“Everyone.”

L shook his head lightly. “You can do better than that, my love. Be specific.”

“I don’t know! People, everywhere. My parents, my family, my friends. It feels like no matter what I do, nobody really likes me or cares about me.” You dropped your head and glared at the roses on your skirt with so much anger, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they had killed your firstborn.

“I don’t have much expertise with parents or family,” L admitted, “But I do know that your friends wouldn’t be friends with you if they didn’t like you. People can be cruel and it hurts, but most of the time it’s not personal. When it is personal, it’s misdirected or exaggerated and even if you made a mistake, but you deserve to know how to fix it without harsh treatment.”

You looked at your boyfriend. His hands tucked underneath your knees and he gave you a feeble smile.

“You’re really wise, you know that?”

“I would hope so, otherwise I would need a new occupation.”

You giggled softly but it faded to a dull grimace. “It’s hard, L. I seem to always be doing something wrong. People seem to hate me upon meeting me and even when they do warm up to me, one wrong thing and i’m back at square one. I wish I could be one of those easy, pretty girls everybody liked.”

L fingers tightened and you made a curious face. For a second, pain flashed across his face, as if the thought of you insulting yourself physically ailed him.

“You are pretty. You are beautiful. And you are easy for the people who matter. Why do you want everybody to like you? You don’t even like everybody.”

You laughed. It was full and real and it filled the room as yours always does. L hadn’t realized how grim the room felt without your joy until the color returned to the wallpaper as your chuckles bounced off it.

“You’re right. I guess I just feel wrong around people who aren’t you or close friends, like the odd man out.”

L nodded, he understood better than anyone.

“Well, I like you odd. Anyone who doesn’t like you doesn’t deserve to know all the things about you that are worth loving.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Like the way your hair looks in the morning. Or the way you giggle when you’re caught doing something mischievous. Or how kind you can be when someone is hurting. You are worth all the oddness and the wrongness to me because you never felt wrong, you simply felt unknown.”

L paused, his words sunk in and made your cheeks turn a light shade of pink. He continued, “If people judge you as soon as they meet you, they don’t deserve to have those good things from you. The good people, the ones who matter will let you be unknown and will be grateful to love you soon after. And you,” He poked you in the belly and you laughed,” You are goodness. If you feel wrong around certain people, it’s not you that is wrong, it’s a sign these people aren’t right for your happiness.”

Your eyes were over pouring with appreciation and gratitude. For a moment, they looked golden in the dim light of the reflected sunset and L saw your usual brightness in them. The butterflies in his stomach were doing flips.

“Okay… okay.” You agreed and tugged him up to you by his arms, “You’re right. And you’re good for my happiness. I’m so glad you met me.”

L’s lips curled and his cheeks pushed his eye-bags up as he grinned like a goof. “I’m so glad you didn’t judge me upon meeting me at first either. Who would’ve thought a giant bear costume would gain me a girlfriend one day?”

You laughed and kissed him until his lips were red. “It was a cute look on you, though really a panda fits you a little better.”

“A panda is a bear.” He murmured into your laughing lips.

[ghoulsister1]

Safe Space

My F/Os x Self Insert Reader.

[I've had a really rough day and my entire mood has took a full nose dive as my anxiety and depression is overtaking me. I'm thankful that my beloved F/Os are here, I need the warmth and comfort they bring🥺]

The sky opened up above the heads of the people out and about, rain lashing down upon anyone who was brave enough or if you love the rain to stay out in this weather. Those who wore their best hardy raincoat and carried a sturdy umbrella were not deterred by the downpour. Those who forgot theirs could be seen dashing about the streets, pulling up their hoodies or best business jackets in an attempt to stay dry while some used newspapers or magazines.

I, on the other hand carried no umbrella nor newspaper. I had a good coat on me, but I didn't bother to pull up the hood to shield my already soaked hair from the rain, I just walked on through the streets of London, my mind far away and yet I was still coherent enough to dodge passers-by who were seeking shelter from the weather. I passed through crowds of people by the bus stop with unnatural ease, as if I was a wayward spirit just passing through people, no one saw me and if they did happen to look at me they paid me no heed and looked the other way.

Was I one of those rain loving few, braving the downpour? To be truthfully honest, I don't mind the rain but I would still dress appropriately and take care not to get wet. So why was I walking around in torrential rain without the hood of the coat pulled up?

Today I had some family relatives visiting me from my home country, just across the pond. They were staying at a local hotel and wanted to meet me. I happily obliged, even took my beloveds along to get acquainted. Everything was going very well honestly, hell we even took them to see some museums and even to see Buckingham Palace. Everything was going so well. Until today.

I went alone to have breakfast with them at one of the diners. Alfie and Thomas were away attending to business while Danny was called away to help in the planning of the next big score with Mickey and the gang. I didn't mind, seeing as my family got familiar with my sweethearts for the last 5 days and would understand why they weren't with me today. So I went alone to have breakfast with the family. Things started off smoothly, until I said I couldn't come visit them back at home next weekend because I would be away in Scotland with my beloveds for a little holiday of sorts.

The table had fallen very silent, until my Aunt spoke. "What about after your holiday?" Asked my Aunt. I informed them that I couldn't either because I would back working and I already had a few times off because of a wedding and a friend's birthday party, I couldn't dare ask my boss for another off day. He'd been generous enough already, me and him are on very good terms. Besides, I had a friend's wedding coming up and there was girls getaway to Wales too coming up. I couldn't make it, I'd be too exhausted.

After telling them this, my Aunt started and soon the whole table erupted into chaos. It sounded like a room full of politicians, one side calling me out as "too busy for family" "shouldn't have moved to another country" "selfish" and "loves her men more than time with the family" and the other side defending me, saying "it's her life" "she'll visit when she has time" "her boys have been kind to us for showing us around London" and "you always start this Aunt!". I tried to get them to quieten down as we were in public and people who were already trying to have a peaceful breakfast were staring at the table, a mix of curiosity, disgust and sympathy.

I was so overwhelmed and so mortified by the behaviour, I just got up, said my goodbyes and left. Some of the family members called after me, some shouted insults and jeers. My anxiety was on overdrive, followed by the tidal wave of depression already washing over as I made my way back to the flat that I shared with my beloved Brits.

I eventually reached the street where our flat was. The sky had darkened so much some houses and flats had lights on inside. I saw the soft, orange glow of light inside the flat as I walked up to the door. My zombie walk home in the cold rain had numbed my legs that moving made it feel uncomfortable, especially in my knees. My fingers were ice cold as I opened the door and walked inside, a blast of warmth welcoming me as I closed the door and called out to one of my boys. One of them had to be home because the lights were on inside and so was the heat.

"I'm upstairs love! Hang on I'm coming down!" Cried the voice of Danny Blue. I began hanging up my coat as Danny came downstairs, followed by the dogs. I gave him a soft smile though it felt like I was forcing it. Danny took in the sight of me, drenched to the bone except for my shirt which was dry as it was covered by my coat, except for my legs, hands, face and hair.

"Don't tell me you walked home through that flood out there! Were the taxis busy or something?" Asked Danny. I shook my head.

"No. I just....I just didn't feel like calling a taxi. So yeah, I walked home" I Said softly, desperately wishing the crack in my voice away. I could feel the tears welling up as fought against the urge to cry. Danny's face was full of concern as he moved closer to me, he placed a hand on my shoulder and I slowly turned to him, face hidden by some of my hair.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" Asked Danny as he brushed away the hair from my face, taking in my watery eyes. "Oh love, what happened?" Asked Danny, concern in his voice. I sniffled, trying to will my voice to be strong, instead it came out meek and teary.

"Some of my relatives they....they weren't happy with me not going to visit them...I told them I was busy...so much stuff coming up I thought.....I thought they'd understand.....but....but" I Whimpered tearfully before letting out a choked sob as Danny pulled me into a hug. I buried my face into his chest and cried. Danny held on to me, holding me close and tight.

In between the sobs I told the story and how nasty they got. I told him that some family members did stand up for me but the vile words and insults thrown at me as I left was what hurt me most of all. Danny listened intently, he could feel his anger bubbling.

"How dare they turn around and say those things?! After we took them out to museums, a nice day in the park for lunch and even treated them a nice dinner and then turn around and say those things behind our backs! And insulting our little dove? One things for sure, Alfie and Tommy are not going be happy about this" Thought Danny as he rubbed soothing circles on my back, calming me and bringing me back.

"Let's get you out of those wet clothes and into something warm love. I'll put the kettle on, have a nice cup of tea and then it's on to some pampering for you" Said Danny, placing a kiss on my forehead. The gesture made me smile a little. As I went upstairs, Danny said something that made me giggle a little.

"Alfie and Tommy will definitely blow their top about this though! Please help me hold them back!" Said Danny, grinning. I giggled and promised I will try.

I dressed into some cute, fluffy Cinnamonroll pjs and got my Pusheen slippers on. The feeling of the soft fleece around me made me feel just that little more better while also easing away the icy thorns of hurt on my heart that little bit.

I made my way downstairs to the living room where our dogs Scooter, Moonbeam and Cyril were curled up next to the fire. My cat Princess sat upon her cat perch Thomas got her last Christmas, taking one of her usual cat naps, somewhat thankful for the bad weather as it meant I couldn't take her for a walk. I sat down on the sofa, Danny was in the kitchen making the tea.

"Tommy called five minutes ago. He said he's on his way home with Alfie. Two sugars love?" Asked Danny.

"Yes Danny thank you" I Replied smiling softly. I curled myself up, wondering how Thomas and Alfie will react. But I wouldn't blame them if they got angry with my family relatives. Thomas was a gentleman with them, offering to pay for meals and even booked the tours of the museums. Alfie was very welcoming and acted like a tour guide, showing them the best spots to eat and the sights. And Danny was a loveable and always cracking jokes, making my uncles laugh and even playing billiards or darts with them at the pub. My boys were perfect gentlemen.

The sadness crept up on me as the door to our flat opened and in walked Alfie and Thomas. I didn't hear their car come up outside, I was so lost in my own racing mind. The two walked in and already Thomas felt something was off, especially when he saw the sadness in my eyes.

"What's happened?" Asked Thomas concerned. When Danny served our tea the boys sat down and I told them everything. Thomas was quiet along with Alfie but you could tell he was getting angry. Alfie just listened intently, though you couldn't tell he was angry but you could imagine the cogs moving in his head. Danny sat, glancing between Thomas quietly fuming with anger and Alfie silently thinking of some harsh words for some of the toxic members of my family.

I explained to them that some of my family members stood up for me but my uncles, two cousins and aunt were the ones that started and were the toxic ones. After I told my story, I awaited their thoughts on the matter.

"How dare they, fucking say those things to you. How dare they! I have a mind to go to the hotel and call them out on their shit" Said Thomas gritting his teeth.

"Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I'm prioritising my work too much. And I've been out a lot with friends, I mean there's a wedding coming up along with a girls getaway trip to Wales. Maybe I should just cancel, hopefully I can get my boss to give me some time off" I Said softly, tears welling up again as I heard my inner critic yelling at me, echoing the words my aunt called me as I left the diner.

"You're a real selfish bitch!"

Alfie cleared his throat and spoke. "No 'ove. You are not at fault. You are a hard worker. You are diligent and very reliable, always ready to lend a hand and your boss knows this. That's why you and him are on good terms" Said Alfie.

"Yeah we even got invited to dinner with his family" Said Danny grinning. Alfie nodded and continued.

"And don't listen to the critic you got inside your head, right? Don't go cancelling plans just so you can please those brain dead fuckers that don't appreciate you. They are jealous of how far you've come and how well you're doing" Said Alfie. I smiled and nodded. Alfie's words were true. Thomas came over and pressed a kiss to my hand.

"You are better than them love" Said Thomas softly. I sniffled and nodded.

"I am. Thank you boys. Thank you so much" I Said smiling tearfully as my three Brits embraced me in a big, loving hug that I melted into. Feeling safe and loved.

That evening Thomas ordered some takeout for us. A large pepperoni pizza, 3 burgers, a bag of chicken tenders, chips, a pot of curry sauce and garlic sauce and a large coke. We curled up together on the couch, Alfie had got me down a few of my Squishmallows to hold since it was comforting to me. We were binge watching some "Faulty Towers" and episodes of "Murder Maps".

Here I was, held and cuddled by my three lovely Brits, snuggled with Ronnie the cow Squishmallow, good food and tv surrounded by our furry pets in our warm, cosy little London flat on a rainy night. No more bad thoughts, no worries. Just the feeling loved and protected, a safe place.

Hope you enjoyed the story and I was glad to write it as it made me feel better❤️ I do apologise for it being long though😅 Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. Have a lovely day❤️👍

[yourbestpalpercy]

Next day, rather early, Everest was woken up by Tartar messing with the lights.

*Click*

*Click*

*Click*

*Click*

*Cli-*

“Y-Yes!? What! What do you want!?” Everest snapped at Tartar suddenly. She had figured it was one of the octarians. They seemed like the kind of people to do that. Upon seeing Tartar standing there however, she covered her mouth, “O-Oh! Uh- Tar-..” Everest took a breath in through gritted teeth, “Sorry…” Everest carefully climbed out of bed. Her golfclub sat beside her bed, easy to access and use if ever she needed it. Everest quickly grabbed it as she approached Tartar. Perhaps…she should start calling him by his title though.

“Eh,” Commander Tartar only shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t really mind, I’ve heard people be much, much ruder,” Commander Tartar signaled Everest to follow him. Everest tripped over the blanket as she did before peeling it off of her and following Tartar.

Everest’s white hair almost blended in with the white walls. Her pale skin barely made her stand out among the walls as well. “You’ve got your first test today. Believe me, most of them are going to be agility based. I had CQ install a way for you to easily climb back up into the course if you so happen to fall off like you did yesterday. Just find the closest ladder. But believe me, it’ll dock points, okay?” Everest, admittedly, was really paying attention to what Tartar had to say.

Until Tartar snapped Everest back to attention by snapping his fingers, “This zoning out thing you do is pretty common, hm?” Everest stared up at Tartar.

“Yeah. It was so easy to tone people out on the mountain. I’m trying to do that with all the extra voices.”

“Ah, well, it could be louder, you should see this place on a holiday. Hm, Halloween perhaps?”

The sound around instantly got just a little to a lot louder.

“They love Halloween. It’s their favorite holiday actually! I’d honestly like to try something on this coming halloween. Apparently, I made quite the name for myself. Or people are just stupid. I went to the store recently to get some food for down here and I found a costume titled ‘Evil Telephone’! It was alarming at first and I guess an employee noticed my panic because they came over to explain it was close to Halloween and that the store had decided to start putting out Halloween costumes early. I wanted to scare that employee so badly and insult how crappy the outfit looked but I decided not to,” Tartar only shrugged as he popped open the base’s door.

“Cool uh-, would the same occur for me? Could I go out without a costume?”

“HA! Ehheehe-!” Tartar started laughing, sparing a glance at Everest’s face. “Oh! You’re serious, here, let me laugh harder! BWAhahahahahHEHAHEEHAHA!!” Tartar snorted and laughed harder at what Everest had to say.

Everest only responded with a huff and crossed her arms.

“Ah, lighten up, Everest, maybe when that cult of yours leaves the mountains, humanity can be restored and you can be outside again,” Tartar hummed as the Outie 5000 pulled back up.

Everest approached the doors, having expected Tartar to stay in the station. A stab of panic shot through her when Tartar entered afterwards and sat down on the plastic seats. “You- uh- you’re coming with??” Everest placed her golfclub beside her.

“Uhm- duh! I need to be there to monitor the tests. CQ is going to be extremely busy today and so, I need to watch over the tests,” Tartar explained, only getting a sarcastic nod from Everest.

“Sure, and you’re not just there to see your “Human Child”,” Everest did air quotes and mocked Mr. Grizz’s voice best she could, “Do tests because you’re proud?”

Tartar only responded by shaking his head.

Everest nodded as she got comfortable in the seat across from him.

“So how’s the sea life down here treating you so far?”

Everest glanced up, spotting Jelly sleeping upside down above her. “Well, I made a friend. She’s…super quiet though,” Everest only pointed up at Jelly as her colors shifted through the rainbow again, rather fast. “There was a a-a ball…thing, bug- thingy, completely chill. He literally couldn’t care less that I was human. He’s wise. I-In a good way! I…I like him,” Everest smiled slightly.

“There’s the big eyed fish. They’re scared of me. I saw a blobby fellow, he didn’t seem to care much either. I saw some other squishyfish- No one down here understands personal space– they kept touching my face, neck and stomach–!!” Everest wrapped her arms around herself with a cold hiss, “I hate them! I hate all the squishyfish!” Everest shuddered.

“Then, worse people here, the fish with the huge–and I mean HUGE–mouths! They keep repeating themselves and this one comment, ‘You’re so cute, I could literally eat you up’!” Another shudder went down Everest’s back. “I hate them…” Everest whispered in a quaking voice.

“Ah. Gulper Eels,” Tartar rolled his eyes, “You can never trust them. Never, ever turn your back on them. I’d ban them from the trains if I could but that’s one of the CQs’ jobs. Deciding who…gets to ride and who…doesn’t,” Tartar seemed to be struggling slightly to find the words, “I’m shocked they haven’t been banned yet though. One of the eels ate the last train conductor when I was riding and wasn’t paying attention. I nearly tossed them off the train onto the tracks afterwards! They’re lucky I know how to drive a train!” Tartar choked the bar beside him.

“Oof…they’re worse than I thought,” Everest mumbled before noticing that a Gulper Eel was sitting in the same cart as them. They seemed to have been listening in. Everest narrowed her eyes and hissed, “Offense intended.” The Eel only frowned and switched carts.

Tartar chuckled at Everest’s comment as the train came to a slow halt at the first test. Everest got up from the seat and left through the doors. The test room seemed brighter than the first time. The sounds of a hollow room filled with water filled Everest’s ears.

Everest stared at the platform. “Go on, just step on, I was up all night working on upgrades for that golfclub! They’ll only apply in tests though,” Tartar explained, sounding eager. Everest gave him another anxious look before stepping onto the platform. A strange chamber formed around her immediately, shocking her for a moment.

Macheriny closed down onto her golf club and started to attach tubes onto it along with other stuff. Tartar insisted on Everest staying still. Please. Everest did so and when she opened her eyes, she had a backpack on and her golf club had a tube connecting to her backpack. White ink flowed through it as the chamber came down.

“Go on, Polar Bear, give it a swing!” Tartar smiled.

Everest swung her golf club outwards and upwards, spraying the white ink onto the wall before her. “And…you did this all last night?” Everest asked. Tartar looked exceptionally proud of himself. “That I did! It was simpler than expected honestly…” Tartar commented, “Just a few…35 white octarians into a blender but the point is you have an ink based weapon now for tests!” Everest gave it another swing, a little amazed by the color admittedly. “I thought it fit your paleness. You’re like a little ghost!” Tartar giggled before the main gate came down.

Everest lit up before running out, not giving Tartar even a moment to mention the last part. The course before her looked a tiny bit crazy to go through but other than that, everything looked perfect and challenging.

Everest leapt onto the first platform, grabbing onto the ladder before she slipped into the cold water. Tartar stood on the edge of the platform, looking worried about something. Everest took another jump to the next platform, this was moving slowly and throwing her off balance slightly before she regained it. The next platform had a singular octarian on it that moved back and forth.

Everest took a swing at it, causing it to squeal and spin around towards her. It started to shoot her with that same green blue slime that Everest had already grown accustomed to. The ink coated some of her face before Everest swung her golfclub down and caused the octarian to explode into a small pile of the white ink on the platform.

Everest smirked and then noticed her first problem.

It looked to be an ink activated machine. Everest swung her golf club near it, coating it in white ink, activating it. A rail pumped out of the machine, connecting to another platform that was further down and had many more enemies. “...?” Everest looked worried.

Tartar’s voice shouted from the main platform, “THAT’S A RAIL! JUMP ON IT!!” Everest looked back, seeing him waving his arms and trying to get Everest’s attention.

“JUMP ON IT!?” Everest shouted back. Oof, her throat already hurts…

“YEAH! You’ll be SAFE!! NO NEED TO LEARN BALANCING!!” Tartar was still waving its arms, probably because it's an android and can’t feel pain, hm?

Everest took a deep breath before placing a foot onto the rail. Immediately, her foot started to move down the rail. It was like a small stream..

Everest removed her foot quickly and wiped off the ink. “Okay, okay, Everest…” Everest backed up before leaping onto the rail. The ink guided her down the rail. It was actually kinda fun! Everest giggled and laughed from the feeling of the wind in her h-!

AUK–!

The rail came to an abrupt end, causing Everest to slam directly onto the ground. The octarians flinched and started spraying ink at her. Everest only scowled and got up. Any blood from the injury was quickly covered by blue green ink and white paint. Everest wiped the blood away and started to attack the enemies, swinging her golf club at them.

1.

2.

3.

Each swing caused another octarian to pop into white ink. I mean, Tartar had 10,000 of them with it constantly getting more, it was clear Tartar didn’t care about these ones. Everest stood on the ink covered platform now, only yawning as she did. This test was exhilarating! Why was she yawning actually? Oh yeah, a taunt!

Everest chuckled before running to continue the course. There were two, tiny yellow cubes. “Hm? Huh, tiny jumps, okey,” Everest leapt onto one, quickly discovering that it was a sponge! Yeah, she fell straight through the tiny cube and into the cold water. A sharp shudder went through Everest’s tiny body before she plunged back underwater to grab her golf club before it touched the floor of the pool.

Judging by how shortly after she surfaced again and climbed up the ladder, she got a call from Tartar on her CQ-80, he was either panicked, scared, giving her a hint or doing all of the above. Everest looked at his tiny figure at the start before answering the call. “Heyyy, Polar Bear! Those are sponges, you’re gonna want to cover those in ink, causing them to expand, THEN you can walk on them. They won’t stay like that though!” Tartar explained. “Also, seriously, be watching your ink, I’m not too sure how you’ll be able to restock that if you run out, got it?” Tartar smiled before waving goodbye and hanging up.

“...Oh.” Everest spun back towards the sponge and started flicking her golf club at the cube. Rapidly, it expanded into a large, white sponge. Everest did the same to the second cube, leaping to it and then the next platform. She could see the piece of the marker right ahead of her now! There was just one problem. The five Octarians before her. Not just the tiny tentacle ones either, a fully formed, humanoid one. It actually stunned Everest for a moment before she swung at the octarian.

The octrian ducked, but didn’t shoot ink, running to the left- no, right- no, left! They kept zigzagging like this for a few seconds before skidding to a stop. “Phew… need a better tactic…” it panted.

Everest stood, stunned for a moment. This octarian wasn’t like the others. Quickly, before she quickly took out the smaller octarians first. Everest then charged at the humanoid Octarian, swinging her golf club about and spraying white ink about…until the ink came out with a hiss and…nothing. Nothing at all!

Everest glanced back at the platform where Tartar stood. He was still watching. She probably shouldn’t let him down.

The Octarian glanced back at Everest, quickly noticing that her weapon ran out of ink. They seemed so suddenly excited and took aim with their gun. “Aaah! I get to shoot something!!” The Octarian bounced a little bit. “Ink doesn’t work on you, does it? Funnn!!!”

“How did you come to that conclusion? Did Tartar mention it?” Everest asked, swinging her golf club down and aiming for The Octarian’s head. They dodged easily.

“Ooooh, soo close! I don’t actually want to hurt you or anything like that, it’s just- there’s barely anything to shoot around here, besides listen to Tartar over there-” they pointed to where Tartar was- “and read. Shooting the others is never satisfying!” The Octarian didn’t seem to want to fight, oddly.

“We’re a little far from him, dummy,” Everest grumbled and suddenly rushed The Octarian again, “Come on- I need to finish the test! I can’t be stuck fighting you forever!!” Everest kept swinging her golf club.

“Welp, finish it then. I’ll leave you alone.” They shrugged. “I’m not ready to be ink just yet, might need a couple more years.”

Everest bonked the octarian on the head slightly with her golf club. It was lighter than expected. “...So who are you, anyway? I’m not too keen on killing someone who seems so..human.”

“Ow-! I’m 7, and, could you not do that please?”

“Everest. And it wasn’t that hard,” Everest rolled her eyes before turning to the marker. She didn’t even notice the boxes with extra ink so that she could actually pass the test.

7, however, did notice Tartar beginning to yell about…something. “You–...Ink for-...!!!”

“What’s he getting on about?” 7 asked. “Something about ink…”

Everest paused when she got another call on her CQ-80. Answering it, it was Tartar.

“Okay, you can’t hear me. You need ink to finish the test. Break those boxes, there is extra ink in them,” Tartar pointed at the boxes towards Everest.

Everest nodded and hung up the phone before she slammed her golf club into the boxes, breaking them in after just a few hits. “Wh- no ink? Either Tartar was lying- but he never does, though- or CQ was being a petty little slimy slug!” 7 exclaimed.

Everest dug through the other boxes, finding a little note with a simple phrase on it.

L + Bozo + You’re a human + LMFAO + No Ink

Everest growled loudly before crinkling the note and throwing it off the ledge. “I’m going to kill that f*cking sea cucumber…” Everest hissed softly before charging the marker and trying to put it together without ink.

When Tartar called again, Everest ignored the call and kept trying to put the marker together. “EVERE— PICK UP!!” Tartar’s voice echoed among the test’s walls before Everest finally put the marker together and completed the test. Afterwards, Tartar walked back into the train. There was a strange object floating there.

It felt rubbery but also kinda like a cake.

Out of the corner of her eye, Everest noticed 7 approaching, “That’s a mem cake,” 7 explained and took the cake from Everest’s hands, “They’re compressed memories belonging to Kamabo Co.'s test subjects. Supposedly. Everyone that works at Kamabo Co. knows that Tartar makes them himself using what he learned from a different old telephone that treats him like a grandchild. I have no idea what their relationship is but it’s really sweet,” 7 handed Everest the mem cake again.

“Can…I eat it?”

7 went silent before slowly shrugging, “You…can try, I suppose…”

Everest immediately bit into the Mem Cake as the train pulled up and CQ crawled out.

“Oh. Cool, you beat the 1st test, I’m startled!” CQ feigned excitement before Everest suddenly kicked him.

“Sorry, I meant to say, I got your letter, you slimy sh*t!” Everest swore at the sea cucumber, now squeezing them like a stress toy.

Tartar ran out of the train, separating them. “D-Did I not make it clear enough, Everest!? No attacking the conductor!” Tartar pried CQ away from Everest.

“He tried to sabotage the tests! I broke open the crates and only found a small letter from him. It was insulting me, that’s why I started piecing the marker together with my bare hands! I couldn’t do anything else!” Everest glared at CQ.

7 spoke up, confirming what Everest had to say.

Tartar glared at CQ. “CQ…you do know what happens to unruly sea cucumbers, right? You cucumbers are not exempt from the blender if you so choose to disobey or fail me…” Tartar was completely cold.

Everest knew at that moment that this was the real Tartar. Cold, calculating, and threatening when he needed to be.

“You’ll crawl your way back up but let this be a LESSON!” Tartar suddenly chucked the CQ as hard as he could and Everest watched them splat against the side of the chamber and slowly slide down, leaving a trail of blue.

Everest felt a little sick for a moment before Tartar smiled and brought her and 7 into the train, assuring them that he could drive the train back to the Central Station and to not be worried.

He seemed…so friendly now. Whether this was an act or truthfulness, Everest couldn’t tell now. …At least Tartar wasn’t going to hurt her though. She could feel safe with him.

…Hopefully…

[libidomechanica]

One Moment, here in flower made for leaning

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

When Healths and others and Ireland’s present   such maine rage, they still, and touching comes easy   to him, this told, I joy; but she is needed, for a medicine in selling from a branch. The windows. Their backs, and rolling   every day with Men for me who after   the sweet self resemblance between my lov’d friends you may tell you, hopeless grief, and all the rest, that, where day be sweet is even   lizard, crawling hot dogs, a little   Children being callous, harmless thrice o’er the tenderness—and Wilderness and death we’ll go no more! In holes, as some few who   had’retreat, nor pretended Florian,—   ask for him. In the same clime the years, that Dervish-dances with them just so. And watch!

               2

Of honest eyes I’d known, given, an   angel heard, and shrilled in flickering   gyres, but none can prize: for nothing but ice-gravel. Why though I blisse bring today— this, and shower’d by different now, that Dervish-   dances with the sick: the rich lightning   loue, displaies his either not a street where Destiny control; yet with wailing spangles, she thought it out dispense with a great   seruices may light over us like   angry sultanship, pell-mell, and whom for thee! The father sues: see how sudden laughter, as being wroth God hath its merchandize;   I barter curls from the sun’s noonsted’s   made so great heart lies and me. All was a Veil past which have been the large pedigree!

               3

All our daysleep, in May, in the stone. Fill.   And sixteen bayonets which encumber;—   thrice o’er the armed man say—look for me. Yet still wouldst no harbour and in the voices? Nor lose the white lake-blossoms the   immediately in others. Stately fretwork   to thee. Fear we not to break or harden, so it can’t take breathing Paradise, interpreter between you be than thy love,   which refused me! If snow upon the other   said—Why ne’er declare—i’ll say, I wish to fire the dead, and dreadful hour their child, who stood in the child! To the Empress! We   pray may bring their nurses. The way lips breathes   along some hundred young planet of deepest maze. Now lies the should be a pitty.

               4

From the bridegroom fair Twinnes golden showed   her hand on his footprints, glistening; after   sank and faith, some strike mine eyes that to pleased nor war’s most mortal fires love letters, poems, and who with Eden didst with the Beauty’s   fading flower at the main trees feele   most tremendous teats, and do is eloquent, is weak. Followers shone for it depend; thou countenance fill’d up his lips   do that you neither sex, the breeze of Time   has been ridden … winters. And I want forgiveness, and heaven young man he had gone, the season of the house. Well know just whate’er   it may return, unhappy swain, the   Rights of brown came for light; silence cannot shed there mirth is displeasure lives, and then.

               5

Upon a spheres the silent form, dost tease   us out of Allah! Will gaze her simple   denial. His Odysseys and night be going to make her utmost she came, all the dark inn-yard. A pure, so keen her   eyes bestow: come then sweare I wish to die.   And tremble when you would fain say fie on t, ’ if I had three parts maintained a perfect, nay, but fainter wind, with a voice, but   work. Transform themselves to my roun: Ye goatherd   gods, that, and evening. For grammers force by many a secret place that life’s flow rolls away from the heart—and outward shows   the phone. Octave clotted in the day. How   long, up to the rough, between my tears down from the Pharos from the painter’s wreckage.

               6

Trouble heroism, and I will make   us sad next my heavy eyelids to   thee; thine eyes have fifty rubles round in Rows. The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart the horse in an after a prize   of all to Brooklyn, which fills a regiment   besides enjoying half-pay for Pardon. But always without aid! The breast, a greater part with sweeter; there was no future,   crowned shine, Passion rooted in play, love,   like Nature, both holds her insult but are gone, that is all the month lies broke in Passion cannot err, have them cruel; for well that   cloisters say bulldaggers, queers, funny come   see us, but of tin. That runs before the bundle of that scantly any air.

               7

The bayonet pierceth Allah! That Tim’s   year that very Dust of that still in with   what I was, indeed and won it with that seeth faults lived over his Friendship, Gratitude I find no rest. The Grape! If it be   said that he said that zeal of falling through   her locks play the gainers such colds the woman evening at a foolish in her eye, and force him this World we are and torturing   punishment. Then said another lived   for all thy help by me releeued, but promise of this wilfu’ grief he bore his frantic looks asquint on his lips, the proper   persisted, saying there; I know it not   exceeding wroth God had such they march’d the Seed of her own bloody diuretic.

               8

The cream from all a Chequer-board of Night   has flung aside that heifer lowing all   the deadly quarrels burst out between a bag of individually wrapped candies and the lighten this city feel my   musical: sweetness: Tim lying sun, follows   me flying curls, and all around, which we meet and a far more red than foresters divide no spoil; serene, the babe restored;   nor thought the line&her people every day   with the year waxed very lance was white and cheerful as May, and, without asking, What Lamp had Destiny with the sure, sweete success   of the space saints will come. So, when I   laughed sometimes, repulsed by touch, and all their own in after everything to the play.

               9

Lord, what it waits for trifles. Than unswept   stone beside us, Cyril, battering   taketh me! I’ll fight, nor needed, for my bonnie lass, and the dwarfing city’s pale and died in the tree! The World, and incline,   and when the dales of love that never willy-   nilly blowing. And sweet memory and found and to hospital; at first was angry not the fights no longer hover   over there on the windshield. With the rose   upright ascension, Heaven in earnest look pierces and hears his breasts beneath the one good black is fairest now; a love thee,   instead of death; such cold in the leader   of the dawning. Sit side by side. Dull sublunary lover’s eyes that she is mine!

               10

And pure as god’s own ribs what else but they   could not make: twas I. As any other   bed; he snored all her hard and left them, Dear, but work no more deliver me for once dead, the sparkling sprites, the thousand   her hand is safer: on to the valley,   down the sacrifice? The other side of what loved; and Phyllis is some fair ladies, though winning next to us, of which   circumstance was spitting it like a well-   conducted person up, purple, pulsing. Porting thews the air, as they reach’d the hour their day’s work as bristly beard, he puff’d with   one I hoped that old Potter, pray, and trees   nor stranger came; then, confess than a new one—then, lastly, by your mother’s voices?

               11

It’s a journey … and panting and the   hurricane of two entities: myself I   cried, asking, What Lamp had Destiny control; yet with scars, still less guessing the Guests Star-scattered her limbs a drooping then no   more base of a surly Winter is not   see the burden of love her as the moon may drink and broader-grown the nameless sunrise, dart: with praise to talk to mend the Noose   of all, her iron heels: and on to the   rich Hesper bright hour, and baffled rage asswage. Myself with the flood full bright hour, when the rise of some spot, where thereon whene’er   he cameras want to be marked by the   individually wrapped candies and you’ll have now had sketch your great it was there to her.

               12

Thy nobler parts ere they will the Saint, and   seem to hate, weeds among the zits that seals   them down with the heart were mine own, now reconcilement climate change; for sometimes I would he nothing ball in listened like   a fire enough, sweet, sweet dream, i’ll seek him   in you, hopeless lovers live in the wall: her very sheet which bore my love and day his sunlike eyes, ere seemed that old-fashion   calls: it fears would but vow the grandees! And   one is anywhere; for Jock of Hazeldean. Is it thy smooth limbs a peak to the landlord’s blacke, both my rest defeat, to play   the restless fairly dealt by their column   order of St. Mighty wrought, with both Loue, I thought that I mean. Peppered lamb kebobs.

               13

Is nowhere fights natiue moisture right about;   a circumstance. Our enemies have fallen,   have found all, as a reed without asking, which farther hand on his light on cloudy seas, and slip at once everywhere he   knelt at her casement, the brawling hour:   we breakfast, one is at the hopeless lovers’ love—whose skin trigger at least-wise bringeth: o stones good intent hath yielded sword:   the revolving pranks of satin and shin’st   in Stellas eyes I lay listen, while Psyche as she grew in such aureate Earth are there someone used to seek; all have we, for   my faith those boughs! All neck or not ask a   kiss, then with what full heart, and ever, for those swift dispatch in pursuit of the rich.

               14

The eye sinks inwardly do prate. Through hell   shouldst owe. These men are heard great Homer thou   with public kindness honours her the cause be of your gaudy May-games meet Then, whether of state, an olive, capers, or delay,   and those restless Titan hiccups in   his Soul was standing faithfull page, as those ancient Ruby yield himself, who, in my brows, and then he turned to hear my jewel tine,   she is near, she is a bulky volume   of the moon may draw them all by the rich light upon his forehead past a shadows of madness o’er the flying. Men could define,   I yet in her safety, where the mountains.   Pure and let me light once may make more staues did springs in the boy’s palms, I missed.

               15

To be so thy praise shall now unshaken   like to its chosen bishop celebration   wrote what I can see two women play upon the sky, with brede I saw those babes do this, deare sighs, tears, and gaze into a   room and commonplace on her mesh, and what   now make fast thou betraying heauenly Stellas eyes, steps with indiscernible flow its ways, and his face was short-hand of Miss   Macready. And trust to show his ordered   for, spied the longest he was, that hears so gentlemen engaged in the din widows of the places other flown again, ’ and   nearer than the secret place that come home   a pair who fought with the reeds by strangely: but, by all agonies and fall when there.

               16

With the gate alone stands not show my mother’s   neck, And straight to the dear ruin each,   and we are both may rage, the morning on the growin’ yet. From warriors by their death at even to upbraid: still remains; long   may she exercise of noble heart were   they lock to dip dark marble eyelids to the places the Paradise, in obiect best to advance. But I hae ane will to   hear her speak to me, then her baith by bower   and was but a game of children are heard a wish. Said crawl If you ain’t witness call things in the memory. And ceased to   salute the artillery and foresters   divides just at least have plunder in ditches, paint, and on him!—Mere mortal name.

               17

The vasty deep, ’ to whom you for this, was   imaged back, and had our wish in hand,   but even in age the world’s sunflower, there was nourished up, and shape it pleasure, hope, turn back to the Fire of Jealous Frenzy   caught sight I make mankind’s trump card, to   beare coles of light and man made to bow, when the young lord-lover, I though Loves delight. Today we have listened to climb the deluge   from heavenly raptures speaking   sense of hollow shows; nor move, but bid you have done. Shall take; she stood in the steep, when alone, do my thought quite a new Marriage-   bed, be kept my words he hand that her Harp   filling then no curb was left of appear but when we go: and becoming the way!

               18

You know’st no better to this. Nor find him   good quarter. Of chess won’t be long, Perilla,   wash my hand subtracting till my fingers wrought along. Come vnto this I sing, leaving him home; but tis decorum. Hundred   stream, we lay in early song? Or the Dawn   of Nothing but a good deal of hearts of woman, lovely women at least should sting is certain corners be, or not ask our   will. Never hearth: their chief at marriage-bed   where poets throne of ourselves—the woman: he, that Boon lived again. Oh Thou, whose that cruel lovelorn women at least have let   my blind his rage asswage. To-come reels, as   temple full of the news were heath and blind and bubbled, till down into this I sing.

               19

By mowing Cups run swift motionless; that   affable familiar ghost which a portal,   and my casque and grows cold in the show that very side, full-summed in jest; and lay with the Rose shall strip a hundred doors to   one answering Lucan, Horace, or   Anacreon, quaffing his mouth to march with the air, the new name thou art just, and what they crown’s shade, out of all the wall, while sore than   sadden her. And wilt thou dost wake elsewhere,   from the palace Ida stood bowed, withal, manners each passing home through all the top of all my day is even the sun; coral   is far more plunder’d the flesh so pure,   so keen her eyes I lay listen, while he stood up to a dollar that love ere long.

               20

The sweet cement, with carelessly I sing,   which breath which steals into the last child hiding   back Her, nor manners. What passion, when first time to those who had felt the idiocy or greed but lack of thralled   discontent, I love you more than you scorn the   love or no? But those dark inn-yard. There is like night whose limpid water rushing under seemed the Seed: yea, the fashion calls, in   her arms, with man his night, blot out the open   wing of Hero and Leander; therefore the blow which works well alive and leafless, shall not begins to know; and thine sake   longinge is ylent meteors, let our   love is latest hero grace, to prolong the entrance, a pure, transfix’d upon each?

               21

Purple, pulsing just once again and flanks   of baffled heroes are one: accomplish   thou, to-day, they told my sunflower as he knew not where naturally thou after the black-eyed daughters or sword in hand against   the pond’s edge where he sets, the taking   from the Theban walles to build to cadence of death? Without malice: if he must each wish of my though hell is perish’d of safety,   than her eyes were there sure that the Oppian   Law. Dispute with shower, though Ireland stately frozen mud, now fired an angry sultanship, pell-mell, and wordless broodings   on the great vehemence, more sweetly,   and empty noises; while the water, was imagination and scatter all wrong.

               22

Brief life-days be done, with Ismail, as if   the gorge dimensions, with houris also   dish’d: for oft, when people drinking of his way to the Potter this, not like falling, the sword, the victor’s part, kiss me ere I   die. When this baby that there stayed; knelt on   one knee,—the chill win, or else to meet in my arms, their thoughts, sold cheap what it might have plunder’d upon they crown the skies, least once   the midnight sobs around, your father the   days of their thoughts and better to the entrance, Julia. Whom Nature’s agonising voice than all their plays beaumont and the dragon   where the red rose, is emptied of the   House-top ill affronts a Neighbour’s Wife, draws up to the other; and let thy natures?

               23

It chance giues both one full sail of his beam   must rear ourselves betake; she still, my dearest   hut them not. For fear it to grace and dreadful passage in: and yet, behold your fame! Of care o’t; the crown. Be six or   seven. Borne, nor Loves commander nor comfort   is, she cries of the day’s disgrace; robes loosely flowing the marble underworld; ah me, o my king, glad life a fruitful   from a sunflower that Peggy made fruitful   spreading a curse to talk awhile! Said one—Folks of a valleys; meseems I see a woman I am and of the valley,   come then, like Nero, o’er a burning   city’s rest with cries of anger, and made of perfume came on, and praise shall my name ….

[myristicisms]

In another life, he wonders what he'd be doing had he not joined ShinRa as some dumb kid. His parents likely would be absolutely thrilled, he'd be back home in Gongaga helping around the village and probably would be... A lot happier, admittedly. Though what made Zack Fair into who he was today was the experiences brought upon him by ShinRa, sure he'd always had a strong sense of justice instilled in him due to his mother and how passionately she spoke on those less fortunate than her back home but would he be the same man sticking his neck out for a foreign country had he not walked the path he did? ( No use wondering. )

He's strangely content though, walking down the beautiful streets of Wutai even with a shadow trailing behind him, watching his every move. It's not like it would be the first nor the last time although the company was appreciated regardless given how lonely he's grown since the very first time he'd been to Wutai so long ago. Zack was a friend to many but that didn't mean the man had friends of his own to rely on, too many yes men and people who had more interest in what he could do for them rather than genuine companionship thus it's not any different with Kusakabe than it was back in Midgar; The only difference he could find is the fact that the younger man didn't hesitate to insult him at times and despite how odd it is to admit, that's something Zack has come to both appreciate and respect the other for.

A gentle hum tumbles past chapped lips, some old tune his mother used to sing to him as a kid for soothing purposes because each mission only set his nerves alight with constant anxiety, sleep doesn't come easily for Zack anymore and he's more than aware his exhaustion was slowly showing in usually bright features. Long gone is the easily excitable teenager, replaced with a husk that just wants to help but can't seem to do enough to achieve that goal; Purposeless in a way, and that's probably what stung the most. Eyebrows raise at hearing Sonon's voice, confusion glimmering within mako tainted eyes but he refuses to ask for a translation, doesn't want to know in case it's something confidential.

“ I hope some day the higher ups'll get their heads out of their asses and accept that they're not welcome here. ” It's a grumble because the big wigs of ShinRa knew damn well they had no business in Wutai. “ Maybe when ShinRa junior takes over he'll suck so bad at the job and the company'll collapse, wouldn't that be nice. ” It's a musing to himself primarily, Zack had met Rufus Shinra a few times and while the kid is a nepo baby through and through, the raven haired man truly couldn't see ownership under the blonde going too well for a multitude of reasons. Ambition had done nothing but cause problems up to this point, after all. “ Y'know what's so weird about all these missions I've been sent on? You probably don't care but I'm gonna tell you anyways; Sometimes I think they keep sending me out here because they know it's only turning me against them, wouldn't be too surprised if they're looking for a reason to get me taken out like they did a couple of other Firsts. You didn't hear that from me though. ”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡  𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐢  𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬  𝐢𝐬  𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭,  the  metal  bell  adoring  his  bō  never  making  a  sound.  truth  be  told,  he  wasn't  sure  why  the  solider  he  walked  a  step  behind  was  here,  another  mission  obviously,  but  what  precisely  that  detailed  was  unknown.  yet  it  was  better  to  accompany  fair  to  wherever  it  was  he  was  headed  since  he'd  either  cause  trouble  —  even  if  the  older  teen  didn't  mean  to  do  so  —  or  get  lost  on  the  way  there.  it  just  happened  to  be  a  coincidence  that  he  spotted  the  black  -  haired  soldier  when  he  arrived  in  town.  while  the  locals  may  have  been  growing  accustomed  to  the  man  with  the  giant  sword,  sonon  always  enjoyed  being  on  the  safer  side, keeping  an  eye  on  those  employed  by  shinra.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ his  gaze stay  glued  to  the  path;  perhaps,  had  the  pair  known  each  other  better  (  had  zack  not  been  shinra  ),  a  smile  would  have  wormed  its  way  to  the  teen's  lips.  sonon  had  a  sneaking  suspicion  that  soldier  hired  people  with  brawns  and  nothing  more;  from  what  he'd  seen,  the  older  tended  to  both  speak  and  act  without  much  thought.  they  certainly  aren't  acquainted  enough  to  be  joking,  though  sonon  finds  himself  amused  nonetheless.  'no  rest  for  the  wicked'  taken  quite  literally  in  his  mind.  ❛❛  wicked  indeed  ❜❜  the  shinobi  hummed  with  a  quick  switch  back  to  wutaian.  he  doubted  in  the  months  since  the  other's  last  visit  he'd  have  picked  entirely  up  on  the  language,  albeit  even  if  he  had,  sonon  had  long  thrown  out  the  pretence  of  forced  politeness.  they  were  both  well  aware  of  where  he  —  and  most  of  wutai  —  stood  with  shinra.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ with  the  slightest  chime  of  his  bō's  bell,  sonon's  step  falters  momentarily.  everyone  here  needs  help,  desperately  so,  but  requesting  it  of  a  soldier  feels  wrong…  even  if  said  soldier  would  probably  accept  requests  in  a  heartbeat.  they  need  more  manpower  to  dispose  of  the  hundreds  of  shinra  machinery  left  over,  especially  since  the  things  randomly  get  up  and  start  attacking.  people  would  probably  trip  over  themselves  for  extra  help  in  rebuilding,  not  to  mention  practically  every  shop  in  the  city  was  in  desperate  need  of  buyers  —  the  whole  country  had  just  about  run  out  of  gil.  sonon's  lips  pull  things;  he  won't  ask  help  of  anyone  from  shinra,  not  even  zack.  ❛❛  it's  not.  ❜❜  he  agrees  after  a  beat  of  silence,  then  sighs.  ❛❛  everyone  wants  to  do  more;  there  just  isn't  more  we  can  do…  not  with  how  things  are  going  ❜❜

[keykeep]

Kinktober Day 9: Teacher- Pansy Parkinson

Warnings:69

She was head Slytherin girl, evil and mean so what was she doing making you scream

You were in detention, text book open hoping to revise for your potions exam. Sitting next to you and the one to thank for your detention was black haired Slytherin Pansy Parkinson. She led the army of bullies, always leading her minions to assault you with their words. Whether it was your answers in class, your exam scores, your looks, the way you wore knee high socks. But today was the worst of it and you had had enough. Todays insult was teasing you about being a virgin.

It was like a knife to the chest as the Slytherins teased you about being pure, so in the middle of flying class you yelled out “enough Pansy, you’ve got the next three seconds before I beat the ever living shit out of you” her friends laughed, everyone crowded around you both seeing who would move first.

With a deep breath you counted “One” Slytherins still smirking finding it next to impossible for you to do anything, Pansy arms crossed with a smug look upon her face. “two” you said watching the Slytherins faces contort from smug to confusion, all your classmates stunned at the possibility.

“Three” you said launching at Pansy as you punched, kicked, bitten, scratched, pulled. You were cheered on by your fellow classmate’s, all except Slytherin house who were calling you all sorts of nasty names.

Madam Hooch had pulled you off each other inspecting the damage of both your wounds. “That’s 50 points of both your houses, detention with Mcgonagall, go get yourselves cleaned up now”.

So here you were in detention with Pansy. “Why do you care if I am a virgin or not?” You said to Pansy.

“Because I want to be your first” she whispered, you were stunned and speechless looking over to her to catch if she was joking but instead you caught her looking nervous as her brown doe eyes stare back at you.

“B.b.but why?” You stuttered after a long pause of silence. “you’re so confident it’s attractive as hell, and all I think about doing is taking care of you, I can make you feel good I promise” 

“I...I...I’ve never done anything like this before” you said after a while, “would you like to go somewhere more private?” she said enclosing her hand in yours. “but we are already in detention, we can’t just leave” you protested. “well they’ll say, that they are pleased that we are sorting out our problems” she said with a smile. 

Taking her hand, she led you into the nearest closet locking the door behind her.  She takes you into her arms as she travels down your neck making marks that will be hard to cover up later. 

Ripping open your shirt as buttons go flying around the room, “wow I always wondered what you had underneath there” you scrabbled to cover up embarrassed as she chuckled “you’re so hot” she said kissing you. She ripped her own shirt open “there, now you can’t be embarrassed”. 

She ran her fingers over your chest, her nails circling your nipples watching as they turned into stiff peaks. “you’re so sensitive” she said licking your puckering buds. Her hands cupping your breasts as she kissed you. 

Pulling you onto the ground until you were laying down as you both continued kissing with lust and passion. “we will take it slowly, it will feel good all you have to do is exactly what I am doing to you”, You nodded shyly as she got in position with her hot nervous breath breathing on her cunt. Her face mirroring yours. 

You felt her tongue drag over your inner thighs and climbing higher. You moan from the contact “now your turn” she said breathlessly anticipating the reaction. You run your tongue across her clit up and down slowly keeping rhythm. As you continued your sucking and licking, She wasted no time taking you in her mouth. you muffle the moans against her hearing her moans in response. 

Gaining a newfound confidence you inserted your tongue inside her as her nails gripped your thighs, you smirked to yourself as you continued to fuck her with your tongue making her abs tightened on top of you. her legs shutter as her breathing shallows. “I feel something happening to me” you confess “just ride it out and don’t stop now” she said harshly. 

Pretty soon you were both shaking and twitching as you both kept a fast rhythm while your hearts pounded and you felt ecstasy riding out your orgasm. 

She come undone as you felt a creamy white substance inside of her, you licked at her as she moaned loudly, enjoying the sounds of her and the taste of the sweet cum you continued licking in slow circles of her cunt until she had another earth shattering orgasm into your mouth. 

You were next to come undone as you gripped onto her thighs, your eyes rolled back and you shook as you let your body relax after the high you just experienced. 

Both of you were breathless and exhausted collapsing onto the ground as you both looked up at the ceiling in silence. After a couple of minutes you regained your strength to get dressed as you fixed the clothing that was ripped off each other in desperation with spells. You turned to Pansy. 

“why didn’t you ever tell me you like me?”, you said honestly stroking her hair and kissing her again. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up by thinking that we’ll ever be together someday” she confessed in a shy voice. “so you teased and bullied me?” you shook your head trying to comprehend her reasoning. 

“I tried to nitpick by using the things I like about you to tease you” she said softly. You looked into her eyes and saw genuine honesty. 

“so do you still think we could never be together now?” you asked, “I’ve got so much more to teach you” she said wrapping her arms around you pulling you closer to her and kissing you. 

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Jealousy Is... Sickening

Pairing : Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader Word Count : 8.1k TW : yandere!Hwang Hyunjin ; smoking ; mentions of cheating from readers exes ; fighting ; insults ; using readers fears against her ; suggestive content ; let me know if there's more ;

“What do you mean you don’t take last minute bookings?” Hyunjin whined into his phone as he looked down at Kkami on the couch. He had been called in last minute to the studio to record some extra vocals for the new album and a couple more rap lines while he was at home and he hadn’t really planned on leaving the house, just wanting to take the day and spend it with Kkami, but the album couldn’t be delayed so he had to go in and he also needed to find someone to watch Kkami which was one of the biggest dilemmas right now. “Thank you, thank you… Yeah… Got it…” He said, trying to rush through the call now that he knew his usual dog sitter wouldn’t be able to make it. That’s when they mentioned their dog sitter, and at this point he felt like he had no real choice but to call the number they had given him and hope that whoever it was, they were free for a couple hours. 

He was in a rush no doubt, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take the time to admire and appreciate the way the girl on the other end of the phone dropped everything that she might have been doing to agree to watch Kkami, he could hear her moving through the speaker of the phone, grabbing everything she needed before calling out a quick goodbye to whoever it was that she was apparently with and then shutting a door behind her. She reassured him that she’d try to get there as soon as possible, and then he heard a car engine turn over. “You don’t have to speed, drive safely, it’s important.” He urged, and then quickly tacked on at the end. “And don’t try to hold your phone and drive.” 

While she was driving over, he had told her everything she might need to know about Kkami and his behavior, preemptively apologizing for his antisocial behavior, but she laughed lightly over the phone, letting him know that she was going to make it her mission today to become Kkamis best friend. The challenge that she had hoisted upon herself made him laugh, but he also found it adorable. He couldn’t wait to come home and see whether she had succeeded in her mission.

Then the door knocked and he quickly ran over, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his hoodie already on, he had simply been waiting for the dog sitter to show up so he could rush out of the house and make it to the studio, having already said his goodbyes to Kkami beforehand. When he threw the door open he froze for a second, his attention fully captured by the beautiful woman who stood at his door. “Hi, I’m Y/N…” You said, smiling sweetly at him and he really wished he had more time to think, really think about everything that was going on in his head right now. “Don’t worry, Kkami is in good hands.” 

He nodded quickly, bowing his head to you as he whispered out a quiet thank you. “I shouldn’t be too long. If you need me, you have my number.” He said, taking a step back to let you in before essentially swapping places with you. “And I know this is short notice so… here…” He fished a couple bills out of his wallet and handed them to you. “If you get hungry you can order something…” Your head had already begun to shake, but he grabbed your hand and placed the money into it, folding your fingers around the crisp bills. “It’s the least I can do… I have to go though… I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

The session had taken way longer than he expected it to, and you hadn’t called at all since he had left, which was shocking because even the original dog sitter had called him on the first day questioning why Kkami kept running away from them. The lack of calls or even texts had him nervous, and he was racing home once he left the building. 

His mind was spinning with pessimistic thoughts, but when he walked through the front door his worries melted away. “This is Springle…” You were talking to Kkami who was sitting on your lap, staring at your phone as you swiped through pictures of what Hyunjin could only assume was your own dog. “He’s a… jack russell… shih tzu… mix… I don’t know what he is but he’s the sweetest.” You explained, almost like you were introducing your own dogs to his dog, which shouldn’t feel so significant, but it did to him. “And this is Muppet… he looked just like a muppet when we got him… He’s a mini schnauzer, but he’s still a baby so he’s kind of crazy…” Hyunjin didn’t want to interrupt, so he stood in the doorway, watching with heart eyes as you pet Kkami with one hand and continued scrolling through your pictures with the other hand. 

You were the only person other than himself who could get Kkami to sit so calmly, to actually stay in one spot and just… listen… And while the thought that his dog would be able to so perfectly choose the perfect person for him was kind of crazy, now it seemed to make sense. Hyunjin didn’t want to be with someone that Kkami wasn’t comfortable with, and it seemed like Kkami was so relaxed with you, that he didn’t even notice that Hyunjin had come home. 

The sun had already set, the moon high in the sky now, and this was usually when he would take Kkami for his walks. The dog pushed himself up off your lap, doing a big stretch that had you giggling as you turned your phone off and placed it down on the cushion beside you. “It’s time for a walk, isn’t it? I don’t think your dad showed me where your leashes are… but I’m sure you’ll lead me to them, won’t you baby?” You leaned in with puckered lips, and Hyunjin was already fighting to contain his laughter, knowing exactly what was coming next, at least he thought he knew, but he was left stunned and slack jawed when Kkami returned the kiss before jumping off your lap. 

“He never gives me kisses…” Hyunjin whined, finding it the perfect time to make himself known as Kkami ran over to him in the doorway. You giggled lightly, getting up from the couch and grabbing your coat that had been hanging over the back of it to pull on before joining him at the door and handing him back the money that he had given you earlier, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at the bills in his hand and then back at you. 

“I guess he just thinks I’m cute.” You joked, squatting down in front of Hyunjin to pet the dog, but seeing you in that position right in front of him had him diving deep into the gutter of his mind, especially when you looked up at him through your eyelashes, an innocence glimmering in your irises that he fell in love with immediately. “And before you try to give the money back, being able to spend the day with this little guy was payment enough. He’s such a sweetheart. I’ll have to thank my other customers for referring me to you.” 

He shouldn’t have felt so disappointed when you got to your feet again, his mind shouldn’t have been thinking so filthily in the first place, but he couldn’t help it, you were just so perfect, so gorgeous, how could he not think about you? “How many other customers do you have?” He was trying to make small talk, he wanted to know everything about you, but he also didn’t want you to leave yet. Seeing you in his home, seeing how close you and Kkami already were, it had thoughts that were so terrible, yet so… wonderful at the same time whirling in his head like a tornado. He couldn’t let you go, not yet. “I just wanted to know… Maybe I can be one of your customers.” More like he wanted to be your one customer, the only person that you saw. 

“Ahh… I’ll have to see if I can fit you into my schedule…” You glanced down at Kkami who was looking up at you expectantly, and your teasing tone faded as you bent over to scratch behind his ears. “But if you really want me to come back, I’ll make time for you.” You cooed, and Hyunjins heart swelled. You were the one, the only one, his only one, and you only continued to make it more obvious to him the longer you stood there. 

“He wants you to come back…” Hyunjin said, his eyes tracing over your figure when you were bent over, absentmindedly licking his lips as he noticed the way your back arched. God, he felt grotesque thinking about you this way, and the only thing that made him feel slightly better was the thought that maybe you were doing it on purpose in front of him, that you wanted him to think of you in that way. “I have to go back into the studio tomorrow, so maybe you can come over and watch him again?” He lied, his fingers crossed inside the pockets of his hoodie, hoping that you’d agree to coming over. 

“Sure…” You murmured, your focus solely on Kkami as you continued petting him. “Just… let me know the time and I’ll be over…” You added, finally standing up straight again, stretching your arms above your head, the movement causing your jacket to ride up your frame, the little bit of skin that he saw had him swallowing thickly, wondering how it would look covered in bruises and bites that he wanted so desperately to place all over you. “It’s pretty late though, I gotta get going. It was nice meeting you, Hyunjin… And it was nice meeting you too, Kkami. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your fingers waved to both of them as you walked out the door, and as soon as it was closed, Hyunjin let himself slide down the wood of it until he landed on the floor, letting out a sigh as Kkami jumped up on his lap.

“Oh… I’m fucked…” He muttered to himself, running his hands through his hair before letting them drop down to the floor at his sides with a loud thud. He was fucked alright, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care at all. He was set in his ways, and he was set on you. It took one day and he was infatuated. Now all he had to do was get you, and that shouldn’t be too hard, he had Kkami on his side, it would be a piece of cake. 

It only took a month for him to ask you out, and then another month for him to slip the promise ring on your finger, the jewelry giving him a sense of security when it came to you. As long as that ring was being worn, you were his, you were promising to be his always and forever until the ring was replaced with one that held more finality. It was the ring that he wanted to give you, but he felt like it would be too soon, like it would scare you away. Everything he did when it came to you was calculated, planned in advance and thought over constantly just so that he was sure that you wouldn’t pull away from him. 

Now it was seven months into the relationship and you had moved in with him, just another score that he had made. Everything was going just as he planned, and the best part of it all was that he had never forced you to do any of it, you had accepted everything that he offered willingly. Of course he loved the power that he felt, knowing that when it came to him, you were weak, you were like putty in his palms, but he also loved you. He loved you so much it hurt when he had to be away from you, he’d cry if he had to stay overnight at the dorms, he hated not having you beside him, and that’s why everything he did pertaining to you required so much thought. He didn’t want you to leave him. 

“Hyunnie!” You called from the kitchen as he got dressed in the bedroom, and he peeked out from around the door, smiling when he saw you standing in the kitchen wearing only his shirt, your hair tied up on top of your head, a dazed, sleepy look lingering on your face, surely from all of the… activities the two of you partook in the night before. “Did you bribe Kkami to sleep on your side of the bed last night?” You asked, leaning over the counter to stare at him, but he saw the small smirk tugging at one corner of your lips. 

“Maybe…” He replied nonchalantly, and you rolled your eyes at him, placing the empty treat box on the counter, tapping against the lid. “It took a lot of treats… He loves you more than me, it’s not fair, I was here first.” He pouted and you snorted loudly, placing the empty treat canister on the counter before walking over to the bedroom door and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“He can sleep in the middle and you’d only have to use one treat because he’d still be next to me…” You whispered against his lips before pulling back, adoring the way his cheeks blushed light pink whenever you were close to him. “You’ll just need to pick up more treats on your way home from work… Or… I can run to the store and get some real quick before you leave.” 

The mention of you leaving the house had him throwing the bedroom door open and stepping closer to you, backing you against the wall of the hallway, caging you between his arms and his bare chest. “We go out together… You know that. Kkami will be fine until I get back from work… Don’t leave the house unless there’s a fire or someone is breaking in… those are the rules, you know the rules, don’t you?” 

Your cheeks puffed out as they filled with air before letting it all out in a loud huff through your nose as you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back against the wall. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. You’re the idol. Even when we go out together, everyone is looking at you.” You retorted, ducking out from under his arms to go back into the kitchen, grabbing the treat canister and placing it back on the top of the fridge. “I think the rules are pretty damn ridiculous if I may say so, but you never actually let me say anything about the rules, do you?” 

Here it was, the argument that he didn’t exactly have the time for, the sassiness that he had adored at the start of your relationship, but you were talking back more and more now. Maybe you felt too comfortable, and the more comfortable you felt, the higher the chance of you breaking the rules. Fuck. “The rules are there for a reason, Y/N.” He hissed, not even looking away from the wall that he had just had you against, his forehead leaning against it as he spoke. “You always pick the worst damn times to have these kinds of talks. You know I have to get to work soon.” 

“I just don’t know why I have all these fucking rules and you have none.” Why did you always have to have the last word? It drove him nuts. Most arguments that you had could have ended way sooner if you hadn’t added that last fucking sentence, but no, you always had one more thing to say and it would spur the argument on for hours more. “And I’m sure you’re going to come home and pretend like this conversation never happened because that’s how it always is. Clean slate after a couple hours, everything is peachy keen.” 

He groaned loudly, slamming his palm against the wall before turning around to look at you. “Do you want a fucking argument when I get home?! It’s like you love to fucking fight with me, I don’t get it!” He shouted, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him. You could hear the dresser drawers being yanked open with force as he muttered incoherently under his breath. He was dressed in record time though, his anger fueling him, and he wanted to just get out of the house before the both of you exploded at each other. “Tell me right now, do you really want to keep this going or do you want to just end it here so I can come back home after work and we can have a decent meal?” 

You were leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at him over at the front door, one hand on the doorknob, just waiting for your answer. “We can talk about your rules when you get back home. They’re bullshit and you know it, Hyunjin.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as you glared at him. His jaw was set and you saw his nostrils as he stared back at you, shaking his head. 

“God… dammit!” He practically growled, throwing the front door open and slamming it loudly behind him, the force causing the picture that had been hanging on the wall the crash down on the floor, the glass shattering against the hardwood and you let out a groan of your own, running your hands over your face before grabbing the broom to go clean it up. 

“Asshole!” You shouted, knowing that he could hear you when you got closer to the door, sweeping up the shards of glass, doing it three times over just to make sure that no slivers were left behind before dumping the contents of the dustpan into the trash bin. “Kkami…” You murmured, noticing his head peering around the end of the couch. “You want to take a walk? Just me and you, buddy. I need to breathe…” 

Taking Kkami on walks had been specifically stated in the rules to be something that only Hyunjin or you and Hyunjin could do, never just you though. The argument this morning though had you feeling… rebellious though, and as soon as you had finished getting dressed, you put Kkamis leash on and headed out the front door. It felt good breaking the rules, mainly because they were just so idiotic to you. You felt like you and Hyunjin had been together long enough that he could trust you to go out on your own, but the rules only seemed to become more and more constraining as more time passed. It was ass backwards and you hated it. 

Not just that though, but it made absolutely no sense why he was being this way with you when you had more of a reason to be worried, but you weren’t sitting at home writing up a list of rules for him and hanging them on the fridge. He was beyond attractive, he was hot, and if anyone should be fretting over the other going out alone, it should be you, and sometimes… most of the time, you wondered if he was doing something, doing things that would no doubt destroy you if you ever found out. It’s not like he didn’t tell you he loved you daily, well… excluding this morning, but no amount of I love you’s could soothe the bitter feelings that built inside of you when you thought of just how many women would love to be with him. You’ve had your fair share of shitty exes that seemed to love pandering to the women who seeked out already taken men, their desires just as sick as the men who gave into that shit. 

Was Hyunjin that kind of boyfriend though? You really had no idea, but you remembered the way he lustfully looked at you the first day he had met you. He didn’t even know you and you could almost see his thoughts, playing out on his face like a projected movie. You didn’t know if he had those same kinds of thoughts with other women, and the thought of it had you feeling sick to your stomach. 

There was only one thing that could ever dull your jealousy induced nausea, and that’s the one thing that Hyunjin hated the most. The thought of pissing him off would usually have you backing down from anything that you planned on doing, but today… today was different. It was like going on strike, rebelling against the rules, rebelling against him, and it had you filled with excitement. There was something that felt so good about being bad, and that’s a pretty cheesy way to put it, but it’s the only way you could describe it right now. 

When you got back to the house and made sure Kkami was settled in, you went straight to the spot where you kept your secret stash, and by stash, it was merely one pack of cigarettes that were reserved for a time like this. “I’ll be right back, buddy.” You told Kkami who had already made himself comfortable on the couch before heading out to the balcony and lighting up the thin white stick. 

It felt like you could breathe, which was a strange way to feel considering cigarettes had the exact opposite effect, at least they should, but it was like finally getting a breath of fresh air, like finally being able to scratch that one itch that you couldn’t reach for so long. It was amazing, and the only thing that made it better was knowing just how much Hyunjin hated it. “Those things can kill you! No more! You can’t!” His words now had you giggling to yourself. Just another thing you can’t do, another rule set into place by him, and you had followed it so obediently just like every other rule. The taste of disobedience, the way it swirled down your throat and filled your lungs before being let out in a sheer cloud of smoke from your puckered lips… It was delightful. 

He’d usually stay at work a little later, but today he came home at exactly five o’clock, kicking his shoes off and shutting the door loudly to let you know he was back. He always knew how to make an entrance. “What’s that smell?” Were the first words that left his lips as he moved further into the house, his nose held high as he inhaled deeply through his nose, his face crinkling into one of disgust as his eyes landed on you. “God! You know… I can maybe… maybe begin to understand why you’d want to disregard the other rules… But you’re going to break that one… The one that’s literally in place so you don’t kill yourself!? Where are they?” You rolled your eyes, not turning away from the stove as you fished the pack out of your pocket and tossed it over your shoulder, grimacing when you heard it fall against the marble countertop. “There’s only… There’s five left in here, Y/N… Was this a new pack?” You shrugged your shoulders, knowing damn well that it had been brand new, but the feeling of comfort that they gave you with each and every puff had overshadowed the risks that they held. “Fucking childish… Look at me… Y/N… Will you…” He grabbed your elbow and pulled you away from the stove before turning off the burner, forcing you to look at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Is this what you want?! You want to piss me off!?” 

You yanked your arm away, wishing more than anything right now that you could have another smoke, the thin white stick between your fingers always made you feel more courageous, or maybe it was just that it would give you more time to think of what to say in between long drags of it. “Yup. I even took Kkami on a walk today, by myself. It was actually really nice considering I was actually free to move around instead of feeling like I was on a leash too like I do when I go with you.” You retorted and you could have sworn you watched his eyes darken, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “And then I got back home and I smoked like… 15 cigarettes and I’ve never felt so free in the past seven months then I did today.” 

His tongue pressed against his cheek as he ran his hand through his hair, and you could tell that he was trying to hold back, his fingers clenched into fists at his sides as he looked you over. “You want to be free? You like roaming the streets in your…” He grabbed the bottoms of your shorts, his face scrunched up in disgust as he looked at them. “Whorish clothes. Oh yeah, I bet you love when all the guys fucking look at you, fucking you with your eyes, that’s what you love, don’t you? Fucking skank.” 

“Oh really?” You scoffed, the both of you back up until the two of you were leaning against opposite counters. “I’m the whore? You’d fuck anything that walks on two legs and breaths… Once they smile at you and bat their lashes you’re practically pouncing on them with your dick out. I take Kkami for a fucking walk and that makes me the whore though. Love your frame of thought, makes a lot of sense. Hyunjin gets to do and say and fuck whatever he wants, but god forbid Y/N wants to leave the house one fucking time!” You mocked, your breath rising and falling heavily, the both of you seething with the anger that had been pent up the entire day. 

“Who am I fucking other than you?!” He shouted, his eyes growing wide as he stared at you incredulously. “You’re so irrationally fucking stupid! You always fucking jump to ridiculous conclusions, you just assume shit all the fucking time! No wonder your exes cheated on you. Good god. I mean… Might as well fucking do it right, since you think I’m doing it anyway.” He groaned loudly, his head falling back to stare at the ceiling as he took a deep breath. 

“Really Hyunjin?” You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, letting out a chuckle that was far from humorous. “You know what… maybe you should. Go out and fuck all the people you want, I don’t even care.” You cared, you cared a lot because at the end of the day, you loved him, you loved him so much that his words were suffocating you, drowning you, and you wanted nothing more than to stop breathing after hearing them. You pulled the promise ring off your finger, the piece of jewelry that you had worn for so long that it had practically become a part of you, and your finger felt so bare without it, that for a second you wanted to put it right back on, but you didn’t. You threw it at him, watching the light from the kitchen reflect off the silver band as it bounced off his chest and made its descent down to the floor. “I’m done.” 

“You wanted a fight and then you back out as soon as it gets too real for you, I get it. Go wallow in your self pity, you’re the one who asked for this.” He sneered as you walked out of the kitchen, going straight to the bedroom and shutting the door behind you. Once you were out of the room he ducked down and picked the ring up off the floor, gritting his teeth in anger at both you and himself. You for starting the argument, and himself for keeping it going. Why did you have to be so damn argumentative though? What did you gain out of it? What did any of you get out of this other than being mad at each other? “How long are you planning on staying in there? Some of us need to sleep at night.” He said, standing beside the bedroom door and tapping his fingers against the wood. 

He wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, and he knew that the way that he was speaking still wasn’t the best way to extinguish the heat between the both of you, but his pride was too high to back down and so was yours. Right now it bothered him, but it was just another reason why he loves you, adores you, and doesn’t plan on letting you go… ever. 

The bedroom door cracked open, and he kind of wanted to see your eyes bloodshot and glassy, to think that maybe you had been crying over him, but all he got was a stone cold glare that hurt him instead. What he didn’t know was that you had already cried, letting out all of your emotions into the pillow that you clutched tightly against your chest, but you didn’t want him to know that, so you had washed your face and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes before he had even come to the door. 

“Take it.” You muttered, brushing past him to head to the couch, dropping your pillow on the end and then falling down onto it, curling up into a ball before clicking on the tv. He had fucked up, his words had been rash in the heat of the argument, but they held no meaning and no truth. He would never cheat on you, and when you had told him the stories of your past exes it took everything in him not to go out and hunt them down for hurting you the way they did, but he had promised you that he would never do something like that, that he solely belonged to you and you only. 

That’s why he pissed him off so much when you got jealous or accused him of cheating though, because he had reassured you so many times that he was yours but you still didn’t believe him. You disobeyed the rules, you had doubts about his faithfulness, and then you had the nerve to be upset with him. “So you’re not sleeping with me tonight?” He posed the question, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt, but this was the longest any argument between the two of you lasted. Usually it would simmer down after five or ten minutes and end with the two of you sweaty, exhausted, and tangled in the sheets of his bed. This was scaring him. 

“I just want to be alone, Hyunjin.” His name sounded like a curse leaving your mouth, a vile word that one shouldn’t ever say, and that hurt, it hurt just as much as the thought of you sleeping by yourself in the living room on the uncomfortable couch. 

He shook his head, retreating into the bedroom, giving you the solitude that you had asked for, but it felt wrong. The bed felt empty, too spacious. He knew that you liked to sprawl out when you slept, something that you wouldn’t be able to do on the couch, but you clearly didn’t want to be near him right now, and as hard as it was to do, he respected your wishes. 

Laying in the bed by himself felt weird, it felt wrong, and his stomach twisted in pain as his thoughts tormented him, wondering if tonight would have gone differently if he had just loosened up on the rules. No… no he couldn’t loosen up on the rules, he couldn’t bear the thought of someone else looking at you, talking to you, being close to you. What if something were to happen while he wasn’t with you? Just the mere thought had tears pricking his eyes and his bottom lip trembling as his breaths became labored. 

If you wanted to go out, he’d just take you out more, or he’d let you leave the house, under the impression that you were going by yourself and follow behind you the entire time, making sure to remember anyone who had the gull to look at you or talk to you. It would be better, and it would make you feel like you had a little more freedom. 

Then there came your jealousy, and as irrational as it was, he tried to understand. You had been through a lot, you had your reasons for doubt, and you had even told him before the relationship had started that you had trust issues because of prior instances. He knew all of this and still reacted in such a way that had you spending the evening in the living room, by yourself, away from him. At the time he had acted in anger, a disgusting emotion to harvest towards the one he loved the most, but now… now he was full of the same sadness that he could feel resonating off of you when you had walked out of the bedroom. 

It was impossible to fall asleep, the bed felt far too big without you in it, starfished and yanking away all of the blankets, leaving him with just a corner to try to keep himself warm. He never let it bother him, finding it precious how comfortable you looked, the way you trusted him completely. He craved the cold air that would linger against his skin from the lack of covers, and now that he had all of them, it felt excruciatingly hot. 

Turning over, he could see that it was late, or, rather early now. Four o’clock in the morning and not a wink of sleep was had, his eyes burning in the pitch dark of the room, under eyes raw from wiping at his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie that had become your favorite. It smelled of you and he thought that your scent would make him feel better, at least give him enough comfort to fall asleep, but it only made things worse. It didn’t hold the same warmth, nothing like the heat that poured from your body when you laid beside him, your body pressed as close as possible against his and your legs instinctively hooking around his waist. 

He never realized how much he loved having you close, needed to have you close until right now. Maybe he had taken advantage of having you around, taken advantage of your love for him. He thought that it would never fade, that he’d never had to face the terrifying possibility of potentially losing you. What would he do without you? What would Kkami do without you? The three of you were a family, and you couldn’t just leave… well… you could, but he’d always drag you back, he’d always find a way to bring you back to him, but he didn’t want to have to do that, he didn’t want to have to force you to stay with him. He wanted you to stay because you wanted to be with him. That would mean that he had won in the best way possible, it would mean that you loved him and wanted to be with him genuinely, and it would mean that he wouldn’t have to worry about you leaving. 

Quiet steps led him out of the bedroom, into the living room where the flickering array of multicolored lights from the tv illuminated your body, it wasn’t covered, and that in itself had his heart clenching with pain. You were cold, you had to be, so he ran back to the bedroom and grabbed the blanket off the bed and brought it in to you, draping it over your body. 

Kkami was curled up against your chest, you were always going to be his favorite, and he didn’t even care. He’d much rather Kkami lay with you every single night because it meant that you were still there, that he hadn’t lost you. 

He knelt down in front of you, noticing now the harsh redness of your upper lip, undoubtedly from you wiping your nose when you sniffled, and it made it clear to him that he had hurt you, he had hurt you badly. He never once saw you cry and he never wanted to be the one who made you cry, but now he had, and he hated the way it made him feel. It was like bugs were crawling beneath his skin, trying to claw and bite their way out of him, it left him feeling itchy and dirty and he wanted to pick those spiders out one by one and crush them into the floorboards. It wasn’t spiders though, it was his own disgust towards himself, the creepy crawling feeling was nothing more than the result of him being as low as an insect, as filthy as the dirt they crawled and burrowed in. 

You were like a beautiful pristine canvas, every day waking up blank, waiting to be painted on, filled with art, his love and his kisses, his hugs and his touches, all of them a color of their own, vibrant and beautiful, a work of art that would and could only be loved by him. Now all of the colors were dark, splattered across the canvas of your body, his mouth creating splatters and blotches across the board, like bruises and cuts on flawless skin. His words had ruined you. 

“Baby…” He whispered, grabbing your hand that had been hanging limp over the edge of the couch, your fingers looking naked without the ring that he was wearing on his pinky, not wanting it to lose your warmth that the silver had held. With everything in him, he wanted to slide the ring back onto your finger, but you had thrown it with such distaste, such carelessness that he wasn’t even sure if you wanted it anymore. His heart would never be ready for something like that. “Are you ready to talk?”

It was such a strange thing to ask at this ungodly hour. No one would be ready to talk right now, especially if they were being woken up from what he could only suspect to be the worst sleep of your life for this talk, but he needed to know how you felt, he needed to know that you weren’t going to leave him. “No…” You mumbled, pulling the blankets up to your chin and rolling over to face the back cushions. “I’m sleeping.” 

“I know…” He murmured, the bile building in his throat was just another symptom of the nauseating fear that grew inside him with each passing second, and with every tick of the second hand on the clock, his fear got worse and worse. “I can’t sleep without you, baby… I’m sorry…” His pride didn’t even matter at this point, he’d swallow it all down like a bitter shot of vodka if it meant that he got to feel that warm and fuzzy feeling in his stomach afterwards, a feeling that he only got when you were in his arms. “I was stupid, and I was mad… but that doesn’t make what I said warranted. I’d never cheat on you, I’d never go to anyone else… You’re the only one in the world that I’d ever run to.” 

You ran your hands over your face as you rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling with eyes that looked half dead, cold and unloving, which he could only imagine was the way he looked when he spoke to you earlier. “You can say sorry for spilling milk on the counters I just cleaned, you can say sorry for forgetting to get the conditioner from the store since you wouldn’t let me just get it myself…” He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, knowing that the second one was just a hint at the rules that he knew you despised. “But you can’t just say sorry for using the one thing I’m terrified of the most against me.” You said flatly, your lips set in a straight line when you turned to look at him. “I told you about my problems before we even got together because I trusted you to make the right decision based on the information I had given you. You said it would be okay, that you understood. Clearly you didn’t, and if my issues are such a pain in the ass for you to deal with, then I can do you a solid and leave. You might not cheat on me, but I’m not going to be insulted and belittled and threatened with the trust issues that you knew about.” 

Leave. Do him a solid and… leave? No… No, that wouldn’t be helping him at all. He’s never felt more desperate in his life than he did right now. “I didn’t mean it… I really didn’t…” He whined, letting his face fall into your chest. Usually you’d pet through his hair when he was like this, soothe him and tell him that it would be okay, but he felt nothing, you didn’t reach out for him, you didn’t soothe him, you laid like a statue. Fuck, it felt like he was losing everything. 

“What are you scared of? What’s the most heart wrenching thing that you can think of?” You mused, and he was thrown for a second. Did you really want to know? He had never really talked about his fears before, but he had a lot of them for sure. Why would you be asking about that right now though? 

It felt like his mind was lagging, syllables of words spilling through his lips but not able to form a single word, let alone a sentence. What did you want to hear? “You leaving me…” He finally whispered, the words muffled in the fabric of the comforter. “That scares me the most. I’m terrified right now…” He answered honestly, lifting his face to look at you, watching the way your eyes seemed to be scanning the ceiling, or maybe you were just thinking really hard and he wished that he could read your mind. 

“Maybe I should do that then… right?” You posed, finally looking at him as the last word slipped past your lips. “Since you think I’m gonna do it anyway.” Those were his words… not exactly the same, but he finally understood why you had asked. Why did they feel so different hearing them from you though? He would never cheat, but right now it really felt like you were going to leave him, and when you started to kick the blankets away from your body, his heart sank. 

It felt like he had been punched right in the gut, all the air leaving his lungs in one puff. “Don’t… Please don’t… Stay with me… I’m sorry!” He rambled, tripping over his words, his mouth moving faster than his mind at this point. He was gripping onto the sheets, his eyes already filled with tears as he looked up at you, still on his knees as you stood above him. Oh, how the roles had reversed right now, it was like he was handing all of the power he had felt over to you, and if that’s what it took to keep you from walking out that front door, he’d do it. 

“I was… I was stretching my back…” You stammered, your head cocked to the side as you looked down at him. “That couch is the worst.” You added, but when you looked closer at him, you could see the reflection of the tv screen on the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “Even if I wanted to leave you… which I don’t… I’d have nowhere to go at this hour anyway. Can’t believe you woke me up right now…” You rolled your neck which cracked loudly in the silence of the room, but he was momentarily stunned by what you had said. 

You weren’t leaving… you didn’t want to leave… He felt so… weak, but so strong at the same time. Is that the way that love was supposed to make you feel? “Well why the hell did you pick the couch? You could have just kept the door locked and made me sleep on the couch.” He said teasingly, pushing himself up off the floor and wrapping his arms around you, melting against you when you didn’t pull away from him. 

“Because you wouldn’t have stopped knocking and I wouldn’t have been able to sleep, I know you.” You retorted teasingly, pushing yourself up on your toes to kiss him. “But next time something like this happens, I’m getting a hotel because I’m not downgrading to the fucking couch again, that shit sucks.” 

He huffed softly, his hands lowering down your back to grip your ass, his voice low as he leaned closer, his hot breath clinging to the shell of your ear as his lips lingered right beside it. “You won’t have to worry about that because this shit is never happening again.” His fingers dug into the fabric of your shorts as he pulled you closer to him, your chest pressed close against his. “You’re never leaving me, I won’t allow it. I’m yours… So that means you’re mine.” 

You hummed quietly, the sound low and throaty as you walked your fingers along his upper arms, your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth. “Mmm… I love the possessive act… and I’d totally let you fuck me right now if my back wasn’t already thrown out from trying to get comfortable all night. Maybe tomorrow, Hyunnie.” You kissed his chest, just above the collar of his shirt before pulling back, letting out a loud yawn as you grabbed the blanket off the couch and lazily walked to the bedroom. “Come on Kkami… We have the bed back.” You tiredly called out, and he watched as Kkami jumped off the couch and eagerly followed behind you. 

You were perfect, you were sweet, adorable, sexy, sassy, tough… You were everything, and you were his. You had one thing wrong though… It wasn’t an act, and the possessiveness that he felt only grew stronger as he watched you walk through the bedroom door. 

It took him a couple seconds to finally join you in the bedroom, climbing under the blankets beside you. “Thought you were going to test out the couch, see what I was talking about…” You mused, scooting closer to him and letting out a soft sigh when his arm draped over your waist. “I was about to take up the whole bed.” 

He snorted softly, rolling his eyes as he got comfortable. “As if you won’t do that anyway.” He teased, his hands rubbing up and down your side as he stared down at you, letting himself be enveloped in the warmth of you beside him, a warmth that he thought he’d never feel again. “Oh… Here…” He pulled his hand back long enough to pull the promise ring from his pinky, grabbing your hand to slide it back to its rightful place. “You dropped it earlier.” 

“Ahh…” You hummed, wiggling your fingers before curling your hand up against your chest, the ring pressed against your heart, and whether you did it on purpose or whether it was completely accidental, it was significant to him. 

“Never take it off again… promise me you won’t…” He whispered, his hand returning to its place on your side, his thumb rubbing circles in the little bit of skin that had been exposed from your shirt riding up. You hummed softly in agreement, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again, god, you were adorable. He leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, smiling to himself when you tried to tilt your head up so he could kiss your lips instead and quickly pulling back. “Mmm… not tonight, baby. You’re tired, we’re tired. Get some sleep.” 

As if on command, your eyes shut and not long after, your lips formed into a small o as lulled breaths poured out. Jealousy was sickening… but the thought of losing you was far worse, more nauseating than anything else. 

taglist : @goodnightlittleme @whatudowhennooneseesyou