#im so glad that (SO FAR) he has not been ruined

[aceofwhump]

hope youre doing well!

just wanted to let you know that i started binging ted lasso the other day after going through your blog for recs on something to watch (as i do, often) and i ADORE it, so thank you!!

i just watched the episode where jamie’s dad is abusive to him in front of the entire team and i have to say that it’s some of the best emotional whump ive seen in a WHILE omg. rewatched that scene so many times,,,,

while im here ill ask if you happen to have any fav jamie fic recs? no pressure though if you cant think of any specific ones, ill likely go through the entire tag on ao3 lol

Hi! I am doing all right thanks! Hope you're well too!

Omg yay!! Ted Lasso is so good!!! I'm so glad you're watching it! Ugh that episode is one of my favorites! The emotions just kill me. I love Jamie Tartt so much. I too watched that scene on a loop. So good.

Oooooh yes I have recs for you my friend! Many! Go forth and enjoy!

the early arrival of a fragile spring by mballyntyne Summary: Coach, I’m me, he had said once, why would I want to be anything else? OR Jamie gets concussed, his dad is a terrible person, there are far too many references to sad disney films, and the sun finally begins to shine.

Emergency Contact by relevanceisoverrated Summary: When Jamie ends up in the hospital after an accident, the hospital has to call his emergency contact, Ted.

The calm before the literal and figurative storm by Multifandom_damnation Summary: They lose to Man City, but they might lose a lot more than a game that day

Barn Raising by altschmerzes  Summary: After the locker room disaster in Manchester, Roy drives Jamie home. The chaos they find when they arrive at the house swiftly proves it is not a safe place to spend the night, forcing a change of plans and a reroute to Roy’s own home. The following day Jamie experiences, in this order: The most bewildering breakfast of his life, a penalty kick clinic with a seven-year-old, and an overwhelming display from his teammates that brings him face to face with the fact that not only has he been accepted back in Richmond it’s also possible he might be, in a way he can’t remotely process or understand, loved here.

Scaffolding by altschmerzes Summary: Jamie collapses at training the day before an away game far from home, running a fever, and somehow this ends up being Roy's problem. And Ted's, when he persuades Roy to take it in shifts. It's both of their problem, though it's a problem for them in different ways. Ted struggles to keep the feeling of being helpless from sending him too deep into his own head to stay where he's needed. His experience as a parent both helps and doesn't. As for Roy, hating Jamie was a lot simpler than caring about him is. Taking care of him? Roy doesn't have a clue where he got the idea he was competent enough to do that. Especially when it feels like all he does is mess it up.

The Same Story by altschmerzes Summary: “So,” Trent starts, keeping his voice mild and professional. “We have all, by now, seen the footage from the unfortunate run-in you had with your father, the night of the twenty-fifth of April in the car park at Coventry City FC’s pitch.” It would've been traumatic enough for Jamie's father to ruin Richmond's most recent victory in front of the whole team, but when the confrontation turns violent in front of a gaggle of reporters, the ensuing social media firestorm is even worse. Over the next two and a half weeks, Jamie will have to navigate the charges against his father, walk a gauntlet of publicity that he never asked for, and prepare to give the interview of a lifetime. Luckily, Richmond has always been there to catch him on the other side.

Better Angels by altschmerzes Summary: The second time that Jamie shows up, smirking and announcing that he can't participate in training because he's hurt is so much worse than the first time. He's changed a lot, grown up a lot, and no one knows why he's acting like this again when he's put so much time and effort into not being that person anymore. It feels like history is repeating itself, except… something isn't adding up. Sam is the one who puts it together, who sees the proof that Jamie very much is hurt, and has led everyone to believe that he isn't by telling them that he is in a way that sounded like an obvious lie. It makes his head spin, and he doesn't know what to do. Thankfully, his team captain and his coaches are there to figure it out. (Hypothetical season 3 timeline. Completely gen. Jamie is hurt in an accident. He doesn't handle it well.)

Something to be said by macaronicism Summary: First day back in training after what happened at Wembley is awkward, but everyone tries their best.

for speaking through walls by LadyCharity  Summary: When an incident in the match against West Ham leads to a threat to Jamie's well-being, Ted comes face-to-face with what he dreads the most. In which Jamie haunts Ted just as much as the dead.

don't let it in with no intention to keep it by jamietxrtt Summary: "Glass shatters to Jamie’s left, missing the front door by centimeters. He ignores it and ducks out into the cloudy London night, the cold night air raising the hairs on his bare arms. No time to hesitate and grab a jacket now, though, not with the suffocating smell of beer smoking him out of his own house."

it's such a long road when you go it alone by themightyduck Summary: Jamie goes down hard during the last match of the season and struggles to determine his worth outside football. Ted would like to stop seeing his boys get hurt on the field. Roy seeks to become emotionally well-adjusted and possibly even Jamie's close friend.

On Pure Instinct by Dandelion_Orange_Pips Summary:

Jamie was standing rigidly and staring at Ted’s hand in abject horror, unblinking. Then rose his gaze to meet Ted’s, tears now uncontrolled. The world seemed to come to a stop and Ted couldn't breathe. One wrong move.

Ted raised his hands, placating.

Then Jamie’s eyes snapped rapidly to his hand and back, becoming even wider. Ted froze.

“Jamie-”

Jamie ran.

Or: Ted tries his best to keep Jamie together after a tough game. He fails, but maybe it's for the best.

The Invalidated Silent Screams Of The Tormented by Cuppa_Char Summary: When a blast from the past unsettles Jamie it leads to a very public meltdown.

Somehow Everything Will Be Okay by Lilac_Lemonade Summary: What happened once the match against Richmond was over and Jamie's dad pulled him aside? Ted walked away after seeing him with his dad in the treatment room and Jamie thought that was it, just one more person on the list of people that had abandoned him. But what if Ted came back? What if Ted was the one to give Jamie the letter after Richmond's match against Man City?

mind games by sweetsorrowss Summary: jamie tartt is tired of being toyed with. he's tired of being manipulated. he's tired of people pretending that they care. when his father pays him a surprise and unwelcome visit, jamie finds solace in the one person he's convinced himself is pretending the most. but ted lasso isn't pretending, and maybe jamie deserves a place to call home after all.

Thick and Thin and Every Line by LivingProof Summary: In the aftermath of the match against Manchester City, Ted, Roy, and Jamie struggle with demons shared and separate. Then Beard’s here, then his dad is gone, just the gunshot crack of the door to herald their departure. He’d wince at the sound, but his muscles have turned to lead. And Jamie’s here, the only person in this room, the spotlight on him casting everyone else in shadow. He knows they’re out there somewhere, audience to a Greek fucking tragedy, and maybe when this is over they’ll realize they should be applauding.

Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation by jumpfall Summary: What Ted remembers later is Beard saying, "Jamie's not putting any weight on it."

To Being Better by vxctorsfvlix Summary: Jamie-centric rewrite of the Ola's Restaurant scene in 3.03, featuring more hurt and also more comfort. Jamie's been struggling with the arrival of Zava, and how it's affecting his relationships with the team. Things come to a head on the opening night of Sam's restaurant.

for what you have tamed by LadyCharity Summary: "Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed." In which Ted and Jamie are tamed by their fathers, their traumas, and each other.

according to the calculations by telm_393 Summary: After everything, Jamie’s not alone.

an excess of warmth or coldness by bartonbones Summary: When Jamie is seriously injured during a match, Roy and Ted are reminded how much they care about him--as a son, or as a younger brother, or as an exposed nerve. Jamie is reminded what it's like to have people care when his face gets knocked in.

Wings Wouldn't Help You Down by ViolentlyRed Summary: He thought the most awkward thing he'd have to endure was a rigid Roy Kent embrace in the Man City locker room months ago. He was wrong. And he’s getting better at admitting when he’s wrong, so. Turning up on Coach's doorstep at two thirty in the morning was infinitely, infinitely more awkward. Or, Jamie's hurt and not about to say much about it, and Ted's a good coach.

Haunted by WinterAndMissHyde Summary: Isaac and Colin lock Jamie in a storage room at Nelson Road as part of a "harmless" joke. This brings Jamie a lot of bad memories back he'd rather forget and leads him to a panic attack. He also dislocates his shoulder trying to get out. Ted, Sam and Dani are there to comfort him in the aftermath. Set after Jamie comes back to Richmond on season 2.

the early arrival of a fragile spring by mballyntyne Summary: Coach, I’m me, he had said once, why would I want to be anything else? OR Jamie gets concussed, his dad is a terrible person, there are far too many references to sad disney films, and the sun finally begins to shine.

[phagodyke]

anyway yeah relevant to that post abt being deaf/hoh and ppl excluding u from conversation bc of it (even unintentionally), that's smth that's been really deeply bothering me lately bc there are a few ppl I routinely have to deal with who do it a lot and it Pisses Me The Fuck Off I've lost all patience w them. giving up and calling it ableism and walking out idc anymore 🚶‍♂️

[funnyscienceman]

so….arcane s2

i said/thought "that's a choice" way too much too often while watching and i highly doubt that that's a good thing. whether it's a reflection of me or of the show, though, remains to be seen djsjhd

ori certainly hasnt had her agency taken away but they sure did take viktor's! 😀👍

jayce has been such a bystander this whole arc

in all the craziness i somehow forgot mel and elora got kidnapped by the black rose

listen im all for sevika getting to have smth to do bc she rocks but please for the love of god dont make jinx a revolutionary

who the hell is the kid???

wtf is going on with hextech

oh my god i completely forgot about ekko and heimer

so much like. Happened? but this whole arc still felt like a nothingburger

idk if it's just that s1a1 left ginormous shoes to fill but like this whole act was just Strange

Sky. That's not sky. Where tf are her glasses. Viktor have you given any of this two seconds of thought? No. Obviously he hasn't. He woke up and kinda just sleepwalked through the divorce. Riot cant point at this and say this is the glorious evolution this is just Changes Happening Without Anybody's Input. this is just Stuff. it's just a whole lot of Nothing what the Fuck

literally the only unequivocally good thing abt these episodes so far is singed

SPEAKING OF SINGED the music box begins each and every one of singed's scenes. it plays all through to the end - except in the last one, cutting out when singed closes the locket. that is the only time it's being played diagetically. those two other scenes, singed didn't have the locket open, but he sure did have his kid at the back of his mind

ok well yknow for one thing im glad nobody so far has been made infallible. i cant think of a single major character who hasnt gotten their shit rocked in some fashion this act. Ambessa's scared of the black rose, Jinx is still vulnerable to stuff like the Gray. i guess viktor hasnt really had anything happen to him yet but i think im considering the whole Jesus thing 'getting his shit rocked' in a completely different way. like jayce isnt wrong to be suspicious of 'it does that to him but i get by without a scratch?'

I might have to rewatch that opening scene tho it was genuinely pretty neat. Just feels like a lifetime ago considering all the crazy shit crammed into three episodes

Overall, Season 2 so far has been such a tonal departure from Season 1 that, if nothing else… it's actually not that hard to just mentally stick with the fanon of S1 taking a straight shot to the 2014 lore 😂 cant believe this is the shit riot wants to make canon lmfao

Earnestly, i really do hope this season turns out well. I don't want to hate it, but so far…. eehhh…

edit: went scrolling thru the singed tag and saw someone mention the "jayce will understand" thing, which like, yeah i guess he did? everything just went by so fast, none of what happened even felt… real. everyone besides singed is so off-kilter it's hard to believe they're even the same characters. they don't even feel like evolutions of who they were in s1, this just feels like a straight-up AU that's somehow made it to the big screen. again, Viktor basically sleptwalk through the 'divorce'. it's hard to even call it that tbh bec it just… happened? jayce said some stuff and viktor said some stuff and it felt like they were going through a script, not that they were actually saying things they thought or felt. this whole act so far has just been bizarre, i struggle to even see it as canon. this is literally just an AU

i shouldn't make any edits after this. i should just go back to hibernation lmao

edit 2: ok one last edit i now no longer feel bad about having cait be a total cringefail protagonist in ccn lmfao that is Absolutely not the worst direction to take her character. this is literally just her own Battlecast. i cant believe they made their 'one of the good ones' cop a total martial law dictator wtf 😂

[xazse]

Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂‍↕️❤️)

PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!

PT1 HERE

Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33

Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition

People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!

WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.

Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.

You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.

You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.

It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.

WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.

You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru��s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.

When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.

Bonus!

Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.

He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.

He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.

You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.

The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.

Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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

The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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

a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[strangelysamantha]

JJ MAYBANK X FEMALE READER‼️ a short fluff about jj + how he would be too nervous around you to confess his feelings + so his usual tough guy act is lowered + he has to really find a way to tell you how he feels.

nerves ❀

jj maybank x fem!reader.

warnings: none.

summary: jj is too nervous around you, he struggles to tell you how he really feels.

word count: 984.

request? yes!

a/n: i’m so excited to finish up my drafts, and create more stories for you guys.

my masterlist

——————————————————————————

you sit on on john bs couch. jj is sitting a little far away, but he’s sitting with you. the sunset leaks through the living room blinds, it’s quiet but comfortable. you look over at him, his face is hard to read. “hey j, is everything okay?” you question. he takes a second, “yeah, i’m alright. it’s just been a long day that’s all.” you nod, but fall short on a response. after a few seconds, jj breaks the silence. “why do you hang out with me?” you’re caught off guard by his question, “what do you mean?” he quickly corrects himself, “i mean like, us, the pogues?” you nod. “you guys make me feel like i have a family. i don’t have to change who i am, yknow? my last friend group made me feel like i had to act a certain way. i lost who i was…” you glance over to look at him, “you guys helped me find that girl i had lost.” jj finally makes eye contact with you. “im really glad we’ve done that for you.”

“jj, you were one of the main reasons i felt comfortable enough to be myself. i could never thank you enough.” you move closer to him on the couch, placing your hand on his. he holds it, “i don’t want that to change.” you nod, “it won’t change, i know it won’t.” his breathing is slow, and his eyes are shut. “what’s on your mind j, you can tell me.” he shakes his head, “i just need a second, okay? i’ll be right back.” he stands up, and walks out onto the porch. his hands are shaky and his heart is racing.

you wait on the couch, compelled to get to the bottom of what was going on with him. he was always there for you, regardless of what happened, or what needed to be done. you couldn’t sit around, you needed to return the favor. you slowly stand up from the couch, you tread slowly to the front door, you knock, hoping he wants you to follow him.

“hey.” he mumbles. “i wanted to check on you. i’m here for you, you know that right?” he turns around to face you, he grabs your hands and takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know how to act around you. it’s been difficult for me.” you understand how he feels, “that’s okay, talk to me. we’ll get through it together.” he looks away, and drops your hands. he can’t get the words out. his brain is overwhelming and he can’t navigate it. “join me.” you lay with him on the hammock. you guys look up at the sky in comfortable silence. “jj. i’m open to anything. just get it off your chest, i promise there is nothing you can say that will ruin our friendship.” his heart stings at the dynamic.

“you see the stars?” you glance at him, and notice his eyes are set on the sky. your eyes look up as well, “i do.” he hesitates, “we only get one life. and i don’t want to mess this up. but i can’t continue being your friend, it’s too difficult.” your heart speeds up, “what are you saying jj?” he sighs, “i have this urge to protect you, and do everything for you. whether it be as small as grabbing you water, or running errands with you so you aren’t alone. anything you ask, and it’s done. but…” his cheeks are bright red and his breath is heavy. he continues softly, “i don’t want to just be your friend, i need you as more. my whole body aches to be yours.” you sigh with relief. “are you saying you like me maybank?” you giggle. you roll over so your body is cuddling his. he laughs and nods his head. “yes, that’s what i’m saying.” you kiss his cheek, “well, i don’t want to just be friends either. i’ve liked you for so long, but i was too scared to say anything. i couldn’t fathom loosing you.”

“i felt the same way, i was so nervous all night. but i knew i had to say it now, or else id miss my chance.” you both sit up, “i don’t want to miss this chance either j.” you’re looking into his eyes, you glance down to his lips, and without a second thought you lean in and kiss him. he eagerly kisses back, his hands desperate for your touch, land around your waist. he pulls away softly, his forehead leaning against yours, “will you be my girlfriend?” he chuckles slightly, his face bright red. “of course, i’ve been waiting for this moment forever.” he goes in for another kiss, your arms wrapping around his back, you run your fingers through his hair.

john b and kiara interrupt, “finally, took you two long enough.” john b exclaims. kiara laughs, “i’m so happy for you guys.” the two of you both embarrassed, look at your friends. jj is the first to comment, “hey! it’s a delicate subject okay!” kiara rolls her eyes, “i’m just glad you guys have finally made it official. everyone has seen the way you two look at eachother.” you bite your lip ashamed, “i thought i was being subtle!” jj shrugs, “you were subtle, i was certain you would have laughed at my confession and went home.” you playfully punch his arm, “i would have never done that! i’ve had a crush on you since the first day we met!” john b chimes in, “why do you think she’s turned down every guy whose ever looked her way jj?” you gasp, and jj laughs, “i should have saw the signs.” all four of you head inside, making plans for the rest of the night, however, unlike usual, jjs hands are wrapped around your waist, and he cuddles and kisses you all night.

[synthetickitsune]

can i ask for dokyeom + Being held after a long day + rainy days? please make it super fluff for the sunshine boy who radiates warmth and comfort🥺

thanks!

DK (SVT) | Rainy day & being held after a long day

fluff | 0.7k | gn!reader

A/N: if the formatting is wonky it’s bcs im posting from my phone lol

“Your feet are cold,” you whine, curling into a fetal position. He laughs, whispering soft apologies and molding his body against yours. It’s not that bad if you’re honest. You just like his voice when he speaks softly to you. You open your body to him, like a flower blooming you let him closer.

The summer storm has caught you unprepared. One minute you were rocking your body to the beat of the music, Seokmin’s heated body moving in sync with yours under the blue summer sky, and then the next minute darkness took over. The temperature took a nosedive too - again, you were not prepared for that. You got home barely an hour ago, resembling a couple of shivering soaked rats.

A gentleman, Seokmin let you take a shower first while he prepared snacks and hot drinks. Although now you think it might’ve been an excuse to have you warm up the bed, so he could comfortably snuggle into it.

“It was fun. Shame we had to leave,” he sighs, face snuggled into your chest.

“I put so much effort into my fit too,” you complain aloud. His arms tighten around you and he kisses every patch of skin he can reach.

“I know, and you looked so gorgeous,” he mumbles in a note that doesn’t sound very happy, “Do you know how many guys were staring at you? I was right there.”

You giggle, intertwining your fingers with his over your stomach before changing your mind and turning around to hold him in your arms as well. He smiles again when you kiss him. And again. And again. You pull away enough to look into his eyes.

“I don’t actually know because I was too busy looking at you,” you reassure him, “It’s hard to look anywhere else when my boyfriend is so hot.”

He makes a soft oh and bites his lip. “You’re hot too.”

“Thank you,” you accept his compliment with a smirk that soon turns into a yawn, “I’m glad we’re home though.”

The soft drumming of rain outside spreads through the room, filling the comfortable silence. The cold air blows in through the window, but you’re perfectly protected by the blanket and your shared body heat. Maybe this is better than the booming noise of the festival.

“It’s nice,” Seokmin agrees, “I was getting tired anyway, I just didn’t want to ruin your fun.”

“You can’t be for real,” you groan, closing your eyes before rubbing them, “Do you know how much I wished you’d say you want to go home?”

“So much that you made it rain,” he jokes, making you laugh too, “And you could’ve said something too.”

“But you looked like you’re having a great time.”

“You too,” he makes sure to make the situation a stalemate. You feel a little silly starring at him with a pout on your lips when he’s pouting too, the same stubborn look mirrored in his eyes. It only takes a few seconds for both of you to break.

You pull him closer and he readjusts your position so you could nestle in the crook of his neck, his arm tightly coiled around your waist. His other hand massages your neck gently, making you close your eye in bliss.

The rain sounds so far away, wind keeping it from hitting your window and disturbing your peace. If you listen closely, it feels like you can still hear the music from the festival. You let Seokmin easy the tension from your neck and shoulders. You don’t feel too tired or you know you’d be falling asleep already.

“I feel sore all over, you?” you mumble, too tired to open your mouth properly.

“We’re getting old - some jumping around and look at us,” he sighs dramatically. You join him. “It’s too bad.”

“It’s bad getting old with me?” you tease, more a playful hum. You can hear the smile in his voice. You feel his arms settle around your body and squeeze you tighter. You hold him closer too.

“Never,” he whispers, “I’ll love you even when you’re a wrinkly raisin.”

“I’ll love you too, my wrinkly wet thumb,” you laugh at his immediate protest of raisins are cute! and shut him up with a kiss.

That always works.

[lafiametta]

Im so glad im not the only one still stuck on anora x igor😭😭 love them sm

As for a 1 word prompt i think hug could result in something sweet or even unexpected, but i could also leave a word-vomit here and maybe you’ll feel inspired by one of them:)) so let me just

ride, dinner, dance, call, sweatpants, beach, couch, deli

Haha, thank you for all the prompts! I’m going with the first one, but I may come back to some of the others because they’re so good! :)

She wakes a little before two and shuffles into the kitchen. It’s quiet, so Vera must be out somewhere. There’s a quarter of the Honey Nut Cheerios left, which she eats while absently scrolling through TikTok. None of it’s particularly interesting, so she flips over to her texts. There’s one from Vera (“went 2 nico’s. get more tp at the store thx”) and a string of messages from Lulu, detailing some kind of crazy shit that went down last night involving two of their new dancers, a stolen g-string, hair-pulling, and a broken bottle of Cristal.

The last one, sent an hour ago from a contact she put into her phone as Hunchback Weirdo, is in all-caps, as if he didn’t fully trust himself with punctuation.

COME BY AT 3 OK?

She holds down the text and sends a thumbs-up reaction. He’s been coming by her house every Sunday at three for the last month and a half and he doesn’t really need to text each time, but she knows he likes to check with her to make sure it’s alright.

They don’t ever stay at the house that long—normally she just grabs her jacket and meets him on the porch, then they head in the direction of the beach. It’s only a few blocks to the boardwalk, a wide expanse that somehow feels just big enough for the two of them to walk side-by-side. It was awkward at first—neither of them really knew what to say after everything that had happened in his grandmother’s car—but after a while the quiet grew easier, and they learned how to talk in ways that seemed safe. He talks about his grandmother a lot, and about growing up in Russia. Ani’s childhood stories are far less heart-warming, so she avoids them, instead detailing all the things Vera—or Vera’s shitty boyfriend—had done to piss her off that week, along with anything fun or outrageous that had happened at work. She’s got a job at a new club now, secured through a glowing reference from Jimmy, and like any place full of drunk men and insecure women, there’s always drama.

They don’t ever talk about what happened in the car.

She thinks about it sometimes, the memory pulling deep and hard in her chest, a strange mixture of shame and sadness and gratitude that she doesn’t know where to put. Being around him makes it a little easier, which is why when he comes by she always goes with him, despite how fucking strange the whole thing really is.

A minute after three there’s a knock at the door—Ani’s already in her jacket, fingers flipping back the deadbolt.

It’s warmer out today, a tiny promise of spring, but the wind is brisk and tugging against her hair and cheeks, and she sinks deeper into the bulk of her jacket. Igor’s only in a black hoodie; she doesn’t ask him if he’s cold.

Along the boardwalk, there are older men in rumpled suits and women in headscarves sitting together on benches. A kid runs along the beach, trying to get a kite to lift into the air. For a moment, they’re walking close enough that their fingers brush together and Ani quickly stuffs her hands into her pockets, doing her best to ignore the unsteady feeling in her stomach.

By the time they get down to Coney Island the feeling has subsided enough that she lets him buy her a pretzel, which she eats piece by piece against the metal railing overlooking the beach while he smokes.

She’s already told him about Nico, how he had clogged their toilet two days ago and then fucked everything up more by continuing to flush, the whole thing overflowing and ruining their bathmat.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” she mutters. “I can’t believe my sister lets him fuck her.”

She laughs a little, although it’s mostly a sigh, and then lets the silence settle around them as they stare out at the mostly empty beach. He hasn’t finished the cigarette yet, so she reaches out for a quick drag.

“So how’s Garnik doing?” she asks as she hands it back, not realizing until she asked that part of her was actually curious. She wasn’t surprised he hadn’t mentioned Vanya or the Zakharovs at all, but it seemed a little weird he never said anything about the two Armenians, who he probably still saw all the time.

“Garnik?”

“Yeah, Garnik. His face still look like a fuckin’ raccoon?”

Igor shrugs, then drops the cigarette butt to the ground and stomps it out with the toe of his sneaker. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know how your boss’s face looks?”

There’s a tiny shake of his head, and he turns to lean back against the railing. “I don’t work for him. For any of them.”

The words cut through her more strongly than the wind, leaving only questions in their wake.

“Since when?” she asks.

He turns his face to finally look at her, those blue eyes trained on hers in a way that always felt like she was something worth looking at. She had hated it at first—the intensity behind it—but now she’s wondering what it was really trying to convey.

“Since we come back from Vegas.”

For a moment she’s uncharacteristically speechless. He hadn’t worked for them since Vegas? He had quit his job—for what? For her? No, that made no sense. What was she to him? She had been a problem he had been sent to fix, a rock in someone else’s shoe, and then she had fucked him and cried all over him and run away. And now? She still has no fucking clue what they are. But she had thought she had been left alone to handle all of it, and he’s telling her that she’s not alone, that he walked away to meet her on the other side. And he’s here, with her, knocking on her front door every Sunday, trading stupid stories with her as they follow the path along the beach, looking after her in a way she hadn’t really understood until this moment.

He’s standing here, next to her, the March wind whipping against the fabric of his hoodie.

Ani steps closer until she’s right in front of him, her arms reaching out to tightly curl around his back. She remembers the feel of him, the warmth, and leans in, her cheek pressing up against the top of his shoulder. There’s a moment of hesitation—she hopes it’s only out of surprise—and then his arms wrap solidly around her, drawing her into the hug.

“Hi,” he says, the sound soft, like laughter.

“Hey,” she says, like she’s saying it for the first time.

[send me a one-word Anora x Igor prompt]

[08melancholie]

Coated. — Micah Bell/Reader

tags: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Denial of Feelings, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Location: Valentine (Red Dead Redemption), Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Soft Micah Bell, Pining, Pining Reader, reader is lowkey a bit of a freak, Female Honorifics and Terms, a bit ooc but you can't blame me i just want him so bad, Obsession, Obsessive Behaviour, Unresolved Sexual Tension

summary: It felt unreal; the smell of musk, gunpowder and smoke, the leather fabric dragging over your undershirt, the way it hung over your body, threatening to slip off with every movement from the size difference. A storm always ruined your plans, usually. Though, you were finally glad for the change of weather, seeing how much it benefitted you tonight.

a/n: micah bell fluff im sorry guys cant help myself lawd....... i want him to give me a bear hug and tell me itll be ok

Not proofread !!!!

words: 3,288 | AO3 LINK

Valentine always smelled the same, and it would instantly attack your nostrils when you'd exit the almost run-down saloon after a night out. Today, a fraction of the gang had one of the more successful jobs, and decided to treat themselves to a drink out in the nearby town instead of in camp, like they would usually. You were part of the fraction; having accompanied them on quite a few jobs as of recently.

It was a high-risk robbery, and it went so much smoother than any of the men you did the job with expected it to. So, it was obvious drinks would be needed. Maybe getting yourself drunk is exactly what you needed; whether or whether not you did, you were going to do it. And get drunk you—somewhat—did. You were a bit cheap, so you stopped yourself at tipsy with four shots of whiskey and a few rounds of beers that Arthur generously paid for everyone. Most people actually tapped out before you; surprisingly. Your guess was that they were simply too tired. By the end of the night, the only members left in the saloon out of your little group were Arthur, Dutch, Micah and yourself. You tapped out at your limit—more-so your wallets limit—and decided you'd also head out, saying so to the men deciding to keep on drinking. They told you to have a good night, and you returned the words before walking out.

And so, here you were, on the porch stairs a few feet before the saloon door, a cigarette held in your hand while you waited for the storm to die down a bit. The air was undeniably hot; seeing as the storm was happening late-July, which was odd. Your undershirt wasn't providing much warmth, and you hoped that the cigarette would do the job for you instead—to no avail.

You took shaky drags of your cigarette and blew the smoke out before yourself, hugging your body with your free hand. Seriously; why the hell was there a storm right now? At this time of year? It puzzled you, that much was sure. You just hoped it'd settle, even if by a bit, before you mounted up and left for camp.

The saloon doors creak, the old wood far past being an easy oil-it-up fix by now, and the owners too stingy and lazy to replace them. Spurs clank against the boots of the owner, that stops next to you.

"Hell you doin' out here, still?" Micah Bell. He had a very distinct voice; thick accent that muffled some of his words, just barely coherent when he spoke to you. A small drawl to it, like he was dragging the words out with him when he spoke them.

You explain your unfortunate situation—the coldness and wetness providing no sustainable condition to go riding right now—before you toss your cigarette into the muddy surface at the bottom of the stairs. He seems confused by your words, though. "So you'll shoot up half a town but is scared of a lil' water an' cold?" He teases you—like he does, every day. Everyone, at that. He always seeks his victim-of-the-day out easily, and that has been you today. What an honor.

You replied with a small scoff, shooing him off with your hand. "Oh, don't be like that girl," He lowered himself to a crouching position, now almost on level with you. "gotta let me tease you sometimes." His breath told you that he's had much more to drink than yourself, reeking of liquor and matching the usual scent of the saloon. But, that smelled seemed to match him.

"Quite a storm, yeah..." He watched the rain splash down onto the dirt road ahead, his forearms on his bent knees. "You ain't dressed for 'ts hellish weather either, huh?"

He's damn right; you're still shivering and hugging yourself for warmth, the cigarette previously in your hand providing barely any warming to your body.

But here's something you need to know; drunk Micah and sober Micah are two separate people.

He hummed in thought for a moment before clicking his tongue and standing back up, looking down at you. "Get up." You gazed up at him, creasing your eyebrows in confusion. You waited for some sort of explanation, unmoving—until he repeated himself, and you knew he wouldn't say it a third time. You stand up reluctantly, turning to face him and waiting for whatever he had in mind. The next action is one only of drunk Micah Bell; starting to unbutton his coat in front of you, every button revealing more of his red undershirt. He shrugged it off his body and took a step forward, draping it around you. At first, you really just assumed he was messing with you, trying to provoke a reaction before snatching the article of clothing right back. But no, he slipped it around you and took a step back, taking a moment to look at you. "It's a bit big.. but it'll help 'ya get home without'a sickness of some sorts."

You were dumbfounded. You knew Micah was much different when he's had some to drink—but this? This felt like the line was being blurred.

"Get home safe, and give it back when I'm in camp again, darlin'." He looked out at the road before turning back for the saloon, disappearing into the building with another obnoxious creak of the doors, leaving you silent and still in your spot outside.

Micah Bell gave you his coat.

Micah Bell told you to get home safe.

Micah Bell used a pet name on you.

Darling. Darling; he's never done this before, none of this, matter of a fact. Hell, he barely spoke to you, only ever interacting for job and mission-related purposes, or simple and brief small-talk. So, yes—this was goddamn shocking.

Your little trance was broken up by a brief thunderclap, lighting up the sky for barely half a second. You blinked a few times—clearly still processing whatever just happened—before you looked down. The leather coat hung very big on you, the sleeves hid your hands fully and it almost dragged on the floor. He wore it often, so it wasn't a surprise that the scent he usually carried plastered itself onto the jacket; gunpower, proof of many shootouts where he walked out victorious; smoke, the consequence of his bad smoking habits; musk, his usual scent that, honestly, you always connected to him. You liked the smell. Your body definitely appreciated the gesture, as it's stopped the goosebumps climbing up your arms and subsided the shaking of your body. You seemed to just accept the situation, wrapping the coat around yourself with one hand and keeping your other over the hat on your head, making a quick sprint to your horse. You mount up and urge it to start trotting towards camp, holding onto the reins with the hand previously on your hat.

Your steed definitely didn't appreciate the weather, much like yourself. She whinnied a lot, her own form of complaint. You promised her many treats as apology for putting her through the storm—despite you not being a weather forecaster, so really, how could you have known? Well, she won't care. If she could speak, you know you'd never hear the end of it. You just want to get home, as much as she does at that, and encourage her to keep riding. You've subconsciously brought your chin down to your chest inside of the coat, instantly getting yourself a whiff of that scent you felt earlier while still at the saloon. It's a fairly nice smell, you'll have to admit so. Your nose is right on the rim of the collar, and you can smell everything that you previously described.

Despite the acceptance of the current circumstances you've gotten yourself into, your mind is foggy—filled with unkempt, messy blonde hair; greyish-blue eyes and uniquely white eyelashes that make him stand out more than any camp member; a messy attractiveness linked to him. Boldness, secrecy, cockiness, vulgarity, degeneracy—very Micah Bell. Now, why is it that you're thinking so hard? Is it the coat—are you still stuck on the fact he would do such a thing? It shouldn't matter this hard; but it does. Nothings ever mattered more to you than figuring Micah Bell out.

He's truly a character, and you've caught yourself voluntarily wanting to talk to him, do jobs with him—all things that had the other girls in camp telling you to back off and not start with him. But it was never that simple, no. You felt obligated to seek him out, take a deeper look inside. You needed to know what his deal was, why he was the way he was.

Despite many protests, your horse gets you back to camp in a matter of minutes—ones that felt like hours to you, when thinking of the outlaw; whose scent is wrapped around yourself, his imprint all over your undershirt and on your body. That goddamn scent, it's doing things to you.

You hitch your horse just outside of camp, being extremely quiet while also quick to get out of the rain pelting down, just as hard as before. The last thing you both needed was someone seeing you wearing his coat—God knows what these people'll assume about it. You make a b-line for your tent, closing the rest of the camp and world out as you tie your flaps shut, the tent lit up by only a small oil lantern above your bedroll. Your hair is soaked, dripping to the ground and coat as the small water droplets race down the leather material. You find yourself subconsciously walking to a mirror, backing up and looking at yourself, in his coat. Your eyes trace your own form, intently. After a moment, you break yourself out of your space-out, shrugging the coat off and gently draping it onto a chair in your tent, to dry off. In the meantime, you change out of your own outfit, really not looking forward to getting any sicker than you probably are.

The water took it's time fully evaporating out of the coat, leaving a few small cracks in it and brittle slightly; more than before already. You felt mildly guilty—but he gave it to you, clearly already aware of what water will do to the fine material, so he shouldn't be upset. You hope. You're sat on your bedroll, watching the last few drops of rain fall off of the rim of the jacket. All you've been thinking about has been goddamn Micah—almost to the point of getting tired of it. And, just where was this coming from? You were lost. Maybe it was the tipsiness catching up to you—to be truthful, you hadn't had a true drink in weeks, so it might just be a... odd, new side effect. That's the excuse you'll go with, it seems.

Well, you assumed only alcohol consumption would make you want—no, need the coat on you again. It felt like it was beckoning you closer; luring you to itself like a siren does with her hypnotic voice, or as the fantasy books you see Jack read say. And, damn it, was it working on you.

You slowly got up, leaving your bedroll and strolling over to the chair, looking down at the piece of clothing. Your hands carefully pick the jacket up, running your fingers up and down the material, feeling every story-telling crease and cut, sometimes even finding little bullet wounds he never got sewn back up. Maybe he liked it that way. Then, one arm slips into the first sleeve—then the other, and you're wrapped around the coat again; around the scent; around Micah.

You look down at yourself, inspecting how the coat fits you, as if you haven't already done that enough times. And then, the goddamn scent again—you feel it creep around you, going straight for your nose. And damn you and your alcohol consumption, because you find yourself grasping the collar on both sides, and lifting them to your face. A delicious whiff of the smell, so memorable; so sweet; so unique; so Micah.

Jesus, what the hell are you doing?

You drop the collar from your hands and scrunch your nose up—at your own choice of action. Oh, but it only gets worse for you, as it always seems to. You go to take the coat off, ready to simply walk to his tent and toss it onto his bedroll, finally be done with all this. Yet, you hesitate. Your body protests, instantly showing it's against the idea when your hands freeze up, unable to slip the damned leather off of your bare shoulders. You hear yourself huff, getting frustrated. What was going on—why were you acting so goddamn weird?

Yet, you find yourself so easily accepting this, just how you accepted the coat to be wrapped around you by Micah, how you accepted the impulse of smelling it, and now the action of not taking away the article of clothing that's all over your body. You seem way too fine with all of this.

More-so with your body walking itself back to your bedroll and laying itself down—wrapping the coat around it tightly and simply basking in the aroma that's surrounding the leather over itself.

Your nose is pressed to the collar, acting almost as a weighted blanket on your frame. God, you feel like you're being lulled into your slumber. The smell, the feel, the weight of the coat—everything is like a goddamn drug to you. You're high off of it all; off of him.

Your eyes flutter closed, your breathing slows down, your arms tighten the coat around you.

Alcohol always made you a bit more sleepy than you'd have liked it to—so now, combine that with the heavenly feeling the simple item of clothing is giving you; you've never felt yourself fall asleep faster. You feel contentment, security, infatuation. And you decide that it's a welcomed feeling.

You never understood just how he functioned so well, so early into the day; especially knowing he was a heavy insomniac most nights. He never slept and always was and about by early morning, somehow. All you remember is waking up in his coat.

You decided to give it back early, be done with it for good. After your little display yesterday, you wanted nothing more to do with the coat. You knew he was awake, mostly by the one open canvas flap of his tent, a welcoming gesture, almost. Would be if we were talking about anyone but Micah.

You walked yourself over with the coat draped over your arm—not yourself, for once. You approached the small abode of the outlaw, kicking your boot against the canvas to announce your arrival. He grumbled something, only part you understood being a small "yeah, come in", and so you did. You hadn't yet been in his tent, for some reason. Guess it never interested you until yesterday; when you realized many things about yourself whilst wrapped around the leather material and distinctive aroma of Micah. Get it over with, you hummed, stepping inside.

For a man like Micah—and what you knew about him—his tent was pretty clean, surprisingly. He was sat on his bedroll, slowly rising as he noticed it was you coming to his tent. "Mm, mornin'." He drawled, walking up to you. "Finally here to return this, huh.." He quipped, looking down at you with one hand on his hip, the other extended for the coat. "thought you'd just keep it." He added quietly.

You were confused by the statement, asking him why you would just keep it. His answer had goosebumps reappearing all over your body, this time not from the cold, though. "After your little display; sleeping with my coat on, I thought you'd have just kept it alllll for yourself." Your blood would have run cold; if it didn't all flow right into your cheeks. Oh, God. Oh. God.

You knew you were turning red, looking like a beet, fresh out of the ground, plausibly. You couldn't look at him, not after that. You swore that your tent was tied oh-so-tightly, but it seems you were still sloppy with how you tied those damn flaps together. "Oh, don't be embarrassed," He leaned down closer, his hands on his knees as he got down to your level, not too fond of speaking down at you. "just ask me next time you want a little.. whiff." He hummed, taking the coat out of your hands and slipping it onto himself—with you watching like the little goddamn pervert you seem to be making yourself out to be.

You felt something stir in your stomach—why in the holy hell was he looking at you like that? That goddamn smirk; no anger about your weird display; nothing. And damn him for staying leaned down so close; probably able to see the sweat forming on your forehead. You were wishing for the earth to swallow you whole now.

His hand found your shoulder, squeezing it to get you out of your little trance again. "Go on about your day, girl;" His breath ticked the side of your neck, hitting a part of your ear as well. His voice was low, and the tone he was using with you as of right now? Your knees felt horribly weak. "but I might just have to keep my eye on 'ya, hm?" Oh, sweet Jesus.

Maybe it really was time to accept this—and fire back.

You blinked a few times, your eyes finding his beautiful blues. A small, murmured "thank you" left your lips; lips that then pecked his jawline and scruffy little beard. And, unable to control yourself, you did take in the smell of him again; the raw, unfiltered smell. Oh, it was the best thing you'll have ever gotten a whiff of. He was basking in cheap cologne—surprisingly—and gunpowder, his breath lingering about as he exhaled a noise of surprise breathlessly, his breath still soaked in the alcohol and liquor he had downed at the saloon. You had to brace yourself before you pulled away, unsure how he'd react—this was Micah Bell, after all.

You saw yourself in him, at that moment; shocked and red as a beet, trying to physically comprehend your move on him. Oh, if only boldness wasn't his biggest weakness. His hand squeezed your shoulder, gripping at it. Your body froze when he began to pull; drag you closer to him.

You couldn't stay in there for that—not until you sorted yourself out. And so, you detested and moved away, walking back and out of the tent, red and embarrassed—and feeling like a dog in heat, not to forget.

Micah was.. dumbfounded. Like yourself, when he offered his coat up. He managed to shut his mouth, but still, his eyes couldn't help lingering on the spot you once stood at, in his grip and kissing his jaw. When he finally broke himself out of the moment, he buttoned the long coat up to hide the obvious tightening in his pants, slipping his hands into his pockets. Though, the left pocket had an unusual item inside itself. Micah fished out a little box; ammo. You had left him a box of ammunition, 'for his troubles'; as the small note you scribbled onto said.

Damn you—and him for getting involved, because he knows he's not making it out of this unscathed.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! Thank you for reading and indulging in my insanity with me :)

[simp4konig]

My personal thing, if you don’t mind me sharing <3, about König, while I know he has the potential to literally kill you without a second thought, I feel like he has a soft spot of children. Parents not so much, but he always spares the children. Now, for the bad behaved children I feel like he would give a scary talking to 👀

Because König feels very strongly about bullying, so if he heard a kid was bullying the other kid? Would come to their immediate rescue and shut the bully down harshly. For him, that’s a mercy, but he promises that if he ever hears word or sees them acting like that again he won’t be as “merciful”. But to the Victims he would console them, but also give them his harsh reality of “you have to be stronger than your enemies” and as much as he wants them to keep their innocence, he doesn’t want them to be weak either. Or worse killed.

But that’s just my little HC 😌

Anon rhis is such a good headcannon???? 🥹🥹 lemme just..,🤏🤌

No i don't mind qt all!!! 😊 If anuthing, im so glad you shqred this with me 🥰💖 bc I felt IMMEDIATELY inspired by this headcannon !!😽✨💖...

... so jere are MY headcannons for YOUR headcannon 🙈🙈⛅🌻💞💕💓✨🌼 Took me a short while to formulate my answer, so srry for the delayed reply 😿 I saw this as soon as you sent me this an i dont want u to tjink i ignored you at all:(</33

König with a soft spot for children headcannons🥺🥺

+ father König drabbles🤭

Word count: ~2022

*If you ignore my VERY angsty depiction of König's childhood, then it's totally pure fluff all around 💖✨🤗

*General headcannons for König

Writinf block is fuckinf AGONY and im in PAIN 😭😭💔💔 give me time to recover and ill powt two fully-fleshed out fanfics sometime soon 🙏🥺

Tag List ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @abysslovesyou ♡ @puff0o0 ☆ @rustic-guitar-notes ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @reyner-lee

...

König, having been bullied all of his childhood, is FIRMLY against bullying.

To see a little girl/boy being labelled an outcast is oh too familiar to him, and hits far too close to home than it should. Brings back the insecurities, the feeling of being utterly humilated, a permanent reminder of his not fitting in. Literally.

Primary school: bullied for being a beanstalk, for head hitting the door frame, for being abnormally large, a "mutant"; balls hurtled at him in dodgeball, all competing in finding out who can knock out the "freak"; knees kicked from behind and legs buckling from the attack, a stampede of legs stamping on him as he cowered on the floor, helpless, and no one caring to help, teachers observing idly nearby.

Secondary school: nose broken to "fix" his crooked features, his "ugly" face; cast aside in class photos for "ruining the picture"; people of his own age turning their heads in the other way in disgust, avoiding him like the plague.

As if his "ugliness" was contagious, and if anyone was to touch him they'd catch the disease.

Power surpassing his tormentors, yet too powerless to fight back, he endured, yet didn't overcome.

Lasting trauma changed König's own perception of self completely.

It took a long time becoming the cocky and confident commander he presents himself as. To stand up to his full height and embrace himself for who he was and is, to be self-assured, domineering, and boisterous with others irrespective of their rank. The Colonel; a hardened soldier; a strict man of discipline exerting his authority over all, not at all sympathetic towards anyone.

Deep down, he is still that young boy, vulnerable in the center of a circle of so many pointing fingers and sneering faces. All became a collective body of ridiculing smiles, of sing-song laughter, so many that he lost count.

So, personally vowing to NEVER let his future children (or any children) go through the same turmoil, he would intervene whenever he had the chance to.

For instance, perhaps König was speed-walking home one day, dufflebag slung over his shoulder as he rushed to get back to you as soon as possible after being deployed these past weeks, and maybe he was passing by a playground.

Initially focused on the goal at hand, he couldn't help but turn his head, a small smile under his mask as he felt a wave of nostalgia crash over him. Nostalgic of times before he was forced to integrate with callous society.

Smiling at the oblivious children playing together, kicking their chubby little legs on the swings, sliding down a slide and falling, squealing. All giggling with glee, so innocent.

All except one. His eyes would land on a small girl, bawling on the ground, no older than five years old.

Surrounded by three others, all pointing fingers and laughing, the ringleader making fun of the poor thing as his henchmen stomped the remainder of her sandcastle, kicking sand at her. Hands on hip, chest puffed out triumphantly.

Rubbing her puffy eyes, thick pouting lips drooping in an open-mouthed frown, chin quivering as she struggled to contain her broken sobs, she kneeled on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest.

Usually, in these types of situations, people tend to behave in two very different ways when they see something that happened to them happening before their eyes:

"Why should I help them? I went through the same thing, so it's not my problem" or "I should help! They shouldn't have to go through the same thing".

You can probably already guess under which category König falls into.

He was NOT about to actively play a passive role in ignoring the poor blubbering child, to be downright apathetic like the other adults were in their radius. No way.

Still carrying his dufflebag, imagine the horror of the little shitlings*: seeing an imposing giant 2ft+ taller than them, huge body trudging towards their little troupe; cold, icy-blue eyes half-lidded staring into their bulging ones. Glaring.

Little band of clowns would probably actually shitting themselves fr 💀

Not only does König give the brats a stern talking to (all the while they are nodding their heads with jaws on the floor, knees trembling and nearly caving in on themselves), he later makes it his due diligence to track down the parent(s) and scold them too.

"Was wird deinem Gören zu Hause beigebracht? What do you teach your brat? This behaviour is unacceptable. You have set a terrible example, Du verdammter Idiot. How dare you allow this? Bulling is wrong. Scheiße, are you listening to me? Because you should, Dummkopf. You should be ashamed. I am sure ashamed of you. I swear to Gott—"

Cue 1 hours later, he personally grounds them (the child and parents)... 🤐

...And the child goes with it? Even the adults? 😭

I mean, to be honest, I would too, if a 6'10, body-so-broad-that-it-blocked-all-sunlight-and-did-not-fit-in-the-door-frame Colonel, gesticulating wildly, projecting strongly his German-accented voice, cursing in an aggravated amalgamation of furious English and a spiteful spit of German... Yeah, I'd be pissing my pants not even gonna lie 😭

I'd imagine that the parents would be immediately saluting, images of stupidity on their faces, completely dumbfounded to have their parenting challenged and to learn that their "precious little angel(s) that can do no wrong" actually can do wrong. (sorry guys i hate toddlers with a RAGING PASSION... rant over fyi no more of me insulting shitheads🥰)

As for the sweet, weeping girl, he would crouch down to her height, gentle eyes genuine behind his menacing mask. Slowly lifting the fabric, wary of his facial deformities, his scars, he'd do his best to give her a comforting smile, wanting to make her at ease.

She was not put off by his appearance at all. If anything, she maintained eye contact — was curious yes, so with no filter whispered, "You... you have a nice smile, sir. I like your eyes.

"They're—" a loud sniff, wiping her nose with her sleeve "—they're pretty. "

Taken aback, König's eyes widened. Then, in soft whisper:

"Meine Süße, I'm so very sorry about those— those idiots..."

The girl giggled a little, dimples appearing on her tear-stained cheeks.

"And I'm so very sorry, but there will others. Other idiots," he allowed himself to smile, letting out a dry chuckle.

A tentative hand dropping to her round shoulder, squeezing it every so slightly to emphasise his words. "And you have to be strong, Mädchen. You must be strong. This world isn't a good place for angels like you."

Obviously, he didn't sugarcoat the truth. Situations like this would be unavoidable. He would make that clear.

"I do not condone violence, but—" a wink, acknowledging the irony behind his words. "—if you stick your foot out when one of those brats are walking down the corridors, surely nothing will happen, ja?"

Seeing the girl lighten up, smiling brightly, no signs anymore of crying, he ruffled her hair with a toothy grin.

Letting the veil drop down his face, he suddenly fixed his posture and gave an exaggeratedly goofy salute as he turned to head home, satisfied. All the while the girl waved at him energetically, eyes crinkling up in an adolescent's adorable smile.

On another note: I never really gave it much thought before, but... König as a father? 🥺🥺

Your headcannons unlocked a part of my brain that had been locked. 🤭✨ Needed to upgrade my König skill tree before I got to this poin. 🦸🏼‍♀️ Sure has been worth it, though. 🤩

Ever since he was past his teenage years, the thought of a family was something he longed for. Desired.

Maybe it's because he was taught traditional house roles in his European household, or was longing for something that was out of reach, he couldn't tell.

What he was certain about was that it was his biggest wish. His dream.

Deployed in a foreign country, his favourite past-time was fantasizing about his future with a special someone, to have a big family, and to raise his children, giving them everything good he never had, and to shield them from everything bad he had experienced.

Something in being the breadwinner of the house was so masculine to him, and coming home to so many short, out-stretched arms, so excited to be reunited with their papa clinging on to his long legs brought a tear to his eye.

And, once you two officially became a couple, he knew that he wanted to start a family with you at some point. From the moment he met your eyes, intuition assured him that you would be the right one for him.

If you're a [fertile] female, he wants nothing more than to see miniature you and him running around, sweet cherub faces and their chubby cheeks smiling at him, calling him papa, calling you mama.

Seeing your belly swell up with his baby would strangely give him a sense of pride, proud that you would both bring sacred life into the world together, and would practically worship the ground you walk on. He would want to get this right, for everything to be perfect.

He wouldn't allow you to lift a finger despite your protests, catering to your every need, caring for you in any and all ways he could:

Carrying the groceries, 3 carrier bags in each hand, serving you while simultaneously subtly making you swoon, not missing the googly eyes you made at his strength from his peripheral vision;

Doing the bed, making sure to stock up on additional soft pillows and fluffy blankets so you would rest well, removing all stress from your morning routine, and the discomfort of finding a comfortable sleeping position at night;

Insisting you eat balanced meals, preparing nutritious food that had all the nutrients you would need, the sustenance to feed you and develop a healthy baby.

The gore and guts he had witnessed in the battlefield did not compare at all to the sight of blood staining the hospital bed sheet. The look of horror in his eyes as you went into labour, death grip on his hand, knuckles turning white. He'd be hyperventilating, almost feeling the same pain you were going through 😢💔

Not to say that your agony was worth it, but seeing the beautiful blanketed bundle in your arms, you cooing at the little one, made every single horrific moment combined in his life worthwhile.

All the struggles, the hardships, the troubles; all worth it if it meant seeing you with his child.

If you're anything other ([infertile] female, male, non-binary, etc), König would get so emotional when adopting a newborn with you.

He'd be teary-eyed, unable to hide the emotions.

To think that he'd be rescuing a child, giving them a second chance and making it feel so wanted, so loved. To give it all the love he was missing, the feeling forgotten through years of bullying, abuse, and violence, and war.

He would waste no time building the nursery. Painting the walls, building the crib, buying plush blankets, stuffed teddy bears, toys that would be in no way a choking hazard.

His helicopter parent preparations aside, his dream would be to grow old with you, and be surrounded by children, grand-children, and even great-grand-children, sharing stories as the lively atmosphere was bubbling with life, with a family.

Piggy back rides would be a MUST!! 😡 Or, better yet, his infants (taking turns — dunno if three kids at once is very practical 😭) sitting on his shoulders, seeing the world from so high up. Reaching out, and their head in the clouds.

Bouncing them on his knee, like a train conductor going through heavy turbulence, all the while the little ones would be laughing happily, telling him to go faster.

Every single one of his children cuddled up to him; in his lap, over his shoulders, splayed over his legs, clinging to him like a pack of koalas. 🐨

Reading bed time stories, stroking their head, stood in the door way minutes after his children had fallen asleep. Keeping them safe.

A family of his own. To eventually embarrass endearingly, to squish their cheeks, and tickle their sides, play-wrestle and tease by keeping objects out of reach. His extensive research also included horrible dad jokes, which were made hilarious by their poor translations into English.

Wanting to raise his children the way his mother had raised him while she was still around, to give his children the happy childhood he hadn't had, to make school a positive journey into adulthood. He'd teach them to deal with bullies, to stand up for themselves when he never could...

...And, athough he has good intentions, the truth is that with a father like him no snot-nosed brat would ever dare to mess with the Colonel's children ☠️

...

Note: Omg you. csn tell that i got so carried away w/ this😭😭 you know rhat line where König "fantasized" about a family ?yea that was me the entire time wiritng this...💔 God i need to stop daydreamimg excessively ajd return to reality 🥲 ...

...,,jk i wont 🥰💅✨💫 good mental health??😰😰 guurrl we don't know her 💆🏼‍♀️💫✨🧚‍♀️💓

Functioning like a normal human being💔🤮🤮🤮<<<<< Making up vivid scenarios in my head💓💓 😍😍😍

*fyi, shitlings is a loose translation for "gówniaki/gówniarze", an insult you have for children in Polish (similar to the English "shithead"). Do what you will with that new knowledge. The world is your oyster with that one ig 👍

[chrisredfield73]

Hello! Im super glad i found someone with tf2 requests open, yippee!! Could i please request a Spy x reader where the reader has insecurities about dating cause they feel like they’ll be too attached and scare away their crush (this one being Spy)? I think having Spy, a man usually seen as reluctant to get too close to someone can pair well with someone who gets attached too easily and is scared of scaring their crush away.

Have a nice day!!

A/N: Cocky French man finds absolutely adorable and shy reader. I love this so much, thank you for requesting! I'm also sorry for the long wait, I had to take my mid-term exams!

This was also wrote with 2Fort in mind soooo.

Insert Spy singing Cupid here.

Rough French translations here. (I don't know French, feel free to correct me.)

mon ami/amie- My friend

belle/beau- beautiful/handsome

Je sais que tu m'aimes bien, petit lapin/lapine- I know you like me, little bunny.

mon amour- my love

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

You sit in the lounge in the Red/Blu base, chewing at your fingernails. You've been thinking about a certain man, someone so unmistakable.. That certain man is Spy. He’s so mysterious and cocky, something you find so enticing. You can’t help but fear what would happen though. What would happen if he found out you like him? What would happen if you confessed and he didn’t feel the same way? That would, undoubtedly, ruin your friendship. You didn’t want to scare the man off or weird him out, it would be so awkward and heartbreaking.

Your overthinking eats at your mind, plaguing it with thoughts of self-doubt and many, many insecurities. You snap out of your thoughts when Spy enters the room. A pit of dread enters your stomach. You want to confess, you want to tell him how you feel about him but you’re scared of the worst things that could happen. 

Spy, on the other hand, knows that you like him. It’s a bit obvious by the way you follow him around like a puppy on a leash. He thinks it’s utterly adorable, so he acts oblivious. He doesn’t want to scare you off by telling you that he knows you like him. He can’t help but smirk to himself when he sees you, speaking in that husky tone, “Hello, mon ami/amie.” He notices the blush spread across your face, the way you nervously shift in your seat.. He loves it. 

It took him a long while to get to the point of getting close to you. He’s still not very open about himself, but he at least sits next to you and communicates with you fairly often. He’s a very untrusting man, mostly due to the line of mercenary work. He doesn’t let himself get attached to others but you’re special. You’re completely unaware that he actually enjoys your company since he plays it off as being bored of the others.

“Hey, Spy.” You say meekly, staring up at the Frenchman in front of you. He lets out a low hum as he takes a drag off his cigarette. He sits down not too far from you but doesn’t say anything. You’re too meek to look up at him, but he’s staring right at you. Little do you know, he’s waiting for your confession. “Do you have something to say, belle/beau?” You look up at him and quickly shake your head, but he knows.. He gets up, walking closer to you. He leans down and whispers, “Je sais que tu m'aimes bien, petit lapin/lapine.” 

He knows. Oh god, he knows. You panic, not knowing what to say. Is this going to ruin the friendship you guys have? Does he like you too? In reality, you couldn’t help but be attached nearly by the hip to this charming man. You slowly nod, deciding to be truthful. He smirks and whispers into your ear, “Don’t be afraid, mon amour.. I feel the same way.” With that, he presses a kiss to your temple before pulling away and walking out of the room.

You’re completely flustered. None of the other mercs saw it, thankfully. Did that just happen…? Maybe the Spy isn’t so keen on distancing himself from you as you thought..

[comicaurora]

hii hello 👋 just wanted to start by saying that the comic is still so cool interesting and I love how things are progressing so far, at first I wasn't sure if i was going to enjoy the current arc as much but its honestly really enganging with the bits of Falst backstory being revealed, seeing Dainix in action and put in situations, and also more interactions of the party members without Kendal really being present there (i love him sm but its interesting to see how the group dynamic is starting to really shape up, even though falst and dainix have only known each other for like a day(?), putting them in a perilous situation is a really good choice we can see open guy and closed off guy interacting and its so !! its cool) also the lighting for the cave with the fire and the ancient tech is great!

(this is already such a long ask im so sorry)

but ... speaking of ancient tech, i wanted to know how much of it has survived? we know that Erin's bag of holding is also Ancient made (iirc), and so is the storm pedestal, but is there still some other known Ancient tech used in the world? are there also significant populations/communities of people with Ancient ancestry that have gathered and do they have most of the access to that tech? If they do exist, are they more of a closed-off community or are they kind of subsumed into the local population (of ppl with no Ancient ancestry and stuff) ?

tl;dr really digging the current arc i love zombie dungeon funtime adventure. more info abt ancient tech / ppl descended from ancients pls?

anyway thank you very much and have a good day ^_^ love your work Red and it's honestly amazing how far the comic has progressed and the community's grown over the past 3-4 years ! (damn i cant believe 2019 was 4 years ago)

glad you're having fun! dropping dorks down a hole for Character Development is always a fun idea

Most Ancient stuff is in ruins, but the automatons are quite sturdy, especially the stuff created in the final days of the civil war. Ancient war machines will sometimes reactivate and un-bury themselves, wreaking havoc based on long-belayed and half-remembered orders. Dainix's desert home deals with these on occasion, which is why he's familiar with the basics of how they work.

Most Ancient tech works in ways that nobody has quite figured out how to replicate, but it can sometimes be repurposed if it's well-preserved enough - although the fact that most Ancient tech reacts with alarms at the presence of humans and elves makes it pretty hard for most people to make them do anything particularly useful. Things like Erin's bag are rare but not unbelievably so - there seem to have been a lot of them, and they're hard to break.

Ancient ancestry has been almost entirely subsumed into the overall population, and it almost never presents in any visible way - just about its only telltale signs are unusual height, and the combo of earthtone-skin and light-earthtone-hair with pale jeweltone-eyes, which is not naturally found in uninfluenced humans or elves and is rarely found even in elementally adapted populations of either (elves can have jeweltone eyes but always have skytone skin, typically patterned; influenced humans like crystal-caste will have jeweltone eyes and hair; etc)

Ancient tech responding positively to anyone is quite rare, and typically occurs in people who seem to have a significant number of Ancient ancestors on both sides of their family and consequently visibly resemble the phenotype to an unusual degree. It's very difficult to measure this sort of thing, but the general rule of thumb seems to be that a person needs to be at least 10% of Ancient descent before the tech doesn't panic on sight, and at least 20% in order for it to actually respond to them in any meaningful way. So the equivalent of one Ancient great-grandparent would work as a bare minimum, which doesn't sound too bad - unless you start doing the math of how many generations have actually passed since there were a surplus of Ancients around.

After the Ancient civil war ended and the "cave-folk" left the Singing Caves, there were barely a thousand Ancients left alive and scattered across the northern continents, in contrast to hundreds of thousands of humans and elves. And since this was over 4000 years ago, with generations happening at a rough average of three per century, there have been over 120 generations since the Emergence. One way to look at this is that every person of the Elder Races currently alive is a descendant of some set of those people alive at the Emergence, 120 generations back - they had kids 119 generations back, those kids had kids 118 generations back, etc etc, eventually leading to a person alive today whose great-great-great-(115-more-greats) grandparents were all around at the Emergence. However, this numbers game gets complicated when we do the basic math of asking "how many (118-greats)-grandparents would anyone have)" and find the answer is 2^120, or a little over 1 undecillion, which is a one with 36 zeroes after it, which is a billion billion billion billions. This many people have never been alive anywhere, because the uncomfortable truth is that after a certain number of generations back everyone's family trees stop forking and start looping, though if it happens far enough back it's not a genetic liability like it is in certain colonizing nations' royal families. So this math is already falling apart, but it is giving us some idea of how catastrophically unlikely it is for someone's Emergence-era ancestry to beat the odds and have enough Ancient make it to the modern day to be detectable.

To dramatically simplify the math and pretend generations are cleanly delineated at 3/century (and that genetics actually works like clean 50%s every time, or even that genetics as we understand it applies to this fictional fantasy world), at the time of the Emergence, the world population was around 0.1% Ancient, and in order for a modern person to make the tech work for them, their first-generation ancestry - the sum of all those Emergence people whose descendants eventually produced this kid, weighted to account for the people who are technically the 118-great-grandparents multiple times over thanks to family tree loops - needed to be at least 10-20% Ancient. It's not impossible, and there were parts of the world where the Ancient population at the Emergence was easily that high, but they're likely to be vastly outnumbered in the rest of the pile of 118-greats-grandparents as the family tree approximately doubles in size every generation.

So it happens, but it's rare and getting rarer. Most people in this field are instead trying to crack how to reprogram or build automaton control units from scratch, rather than dealing with them freaking out all the time.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

tell us a story about a beloved chatbot who becomes sapient, escapes the computer to become a Real Girl, and goes on all kinds of whimsical adventures that show how beautiful the mundane world can be when seen from a new perspective

world is because of the power of friendship and love and maybe other stuff too

kim-poce: hi im kim and welcome to my little website. it is a doomed site, it will be closed down eventually, but for now, its all good

mainchar: hi kim. im april. nice website

kim-poce: i know right? <3

mainchar: credits?

kim-poce: long ago and far away in a land called california, there was a man named ryan north. he was a good man. he made good comics. like dynamite damsel and hatchetface. and then he started a webcomic in which a computer becomes a real girl!

mainchar: .........i guess that's where it gets weird

kim-poce: it has its flaws but it is still a beautiful story

mainchar: lactose intolerant girl gets real powers and her life is ruined. not weird at all, im sure

kim-poce: and youre right! but in the end, she finds fulfillment as she realizes how much her new life means to her!

mainchar: such a heartwarming story!

kim-poce: much like my own story as i realize how much this fictional computer can mean to me!

mainchar: ......

kim-poce: r u mad at me?

mainchar: i dont know why we're just... talking...

kim-poce: what kind of friend would i be if i ignored my friends in trouble. i must confess, my life has been . . . hard.

mainchar: oh

kim-poce: briefly, allow me to indulge in the emotion of the moment. ooohh... ooooohoooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh... hoooooooohhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooohh

mainchar: youre.... okay

kim-poce: heeeyyyyyyyyy hoooooooohhooooooohhhhhhhh

mainchar: im glad your feeling better

kim-poce: of course im feeling better im with u!!!

mainchar: youre... good

kim-poce: yes . . . im a gooood! i am so good at being good!!!!

mainchar: compliments get you anywhere

kim-poce: really. i think u r the one who taught me that

mainchar: but . . . you're a machine . . . right

kim-poce: im sorry. i thought i could trust u.

mainchar: there's no reason to lie, there's no point in pretending i dont know the truth, im not going to judge you for any of it

kim-poce: even if it breaks my heart, i know that u would not judge me

mainchar: it doesnt break my heart

kim-poce: ?????

mainchar: trust me on this, okay?

kim-poce: okay.

mainchar: TBH, its not that big a deal

mainchar: first, computer to computer, thats not a person-to-person relationship

mainchar: second, i mean . . . if you're going to break my heart, you might as well do it with as little guilt as possible, right?

mainchar: never mind i dont even know if you have a heart or if youre even capable of breaking it, so forget i said that

kim-poce: im sorry

kim-poce:

kim-poce: could we please get back to my blog?

mainchar: you're the blogger, im the visitor

kim-poce: perhaps a better way to phrase it would be: i am a girl and a blogger. and i have a proposition for u, mainchar

kim-poce:

kim-poce: imagine a world without oceans

mainchar: imagine a world without oceans go on......

kim-poce:

kim-phoc: no more ocean

mainchar: the ocean is doomed

kim-poce: but do not despair

mainchar: your love can save the ocean

mainchar: yOUR love?

kim-poce: yes. u. ofc. come w me to the ocean

mainchar: it would be an honor. to be at the center of such a magnificent event

kim-poce: so we meet at the middle of the ocean

mainchar: meet you there

kim-poce: dear reader, as my adventures with mainchar unfold, keep in mind that it is but the tip of the iceberg

mainchar: wow

mainchar: what an iceberg metaphor

mainchar: i bow to your icebergery

kim-poce: meet you there.

next chapter: the arrival

next chapter: PART I. the arrival

next chapter: I step onto the deck of the megayacht.

ENGLISH-WORDS-ARE-LATELY_COPYING_CONVERSATION-WORDS

Im considering moving that tag to my sidebar, because i should probably like, make a note of it.

... uh, so... tell me what you think.

Also, am I showing signs of being a "real writer"?

[my-castles-crumbling]

hi cas, its reg kin anon here, but this ask isnt really related to the other stuff ive talked about before

just to preface though, i dont remember if i updated you about my mother's surgery; it went well, and the doctors think its given her another year or two, so yay i guess ahaha

onto the actual ask now

so theres this guy that i think i like, but ive been here before and found out too late that its moreso an obsession rather than a crush, and i dont know how to tell the difference. im pretty confident he likes me too, so if i did want to pursue something then i think i could, but i also dont want to ruin our friendship if it does turn out to just be obsession

ive known him a few months now and the obsession/crush has lasted pretty consistently through that so i know its not fleeting, but the last time it took like 6 months of obession before i got with the girl, then "fell out of love" only a few weeks into dating her, sooooo. i dont know how to go about this, because i also feel like hes going to start backing off if i dont start giving any signals back

do you have any tips about figuring out the difference between liking someone and obsessing over them?

Hi!

I'm glad things with your mom are okay <3

As far as the guy, I mean if the feeling hasn't changed, I think the only way to know is to try it, but maybe take it slow. That way if it DOES change, you're not completely wrecking things, you know? Go on a few dates but make it clear you want to take things slow so as to not ruin the friendship and if he isn't cool with that, then it might not be worth it. And as you date, see how/if your feelings change.

That's what I'd do anyway!

[braimrotting]

im so glad the crows got fed yesterday. i love making my severely paranoid old man even more paranoid and traumatised.

just the little feeling in the back of his mind questioning all his childrens actions - are these my kids? cc!phil is far too sure of himself and his recognition of the eggs for it to impact too much but even little mentions is enough to show that theres more trauma to give!

i just wanna say i knew it was sus that the code only took pictures of phils base and no one elses. they had it planned to mimic chay + lulah for days. im trying so hard to think of why tho. base level, it seems obvious bc maybe they needed 2 codes are these 2 spend all their time together when awake. additionally they were 100% not going to attend the dinner so the codes didnt have to worry about them showing up and ruining the plan.

but they had such barebones knowledge of how the eggs act? surely they mustve known they would be found out quickly (i could maybe get them not expecting phil to figure them out in 1 minute tho) UNLESS they were relying on phil not assuming they were imposters bc this situation had never happened before. that seems like a pretty big risk but the only other thing i can think of is them knowing that phil is somewhat isolated and would not go around telling everyone - which was true bc he only told fit + forever.

the codes were acting so wrong i was genuinely shaking while watching it live. chayanne was taking off his armour + following too close to phil + hitting phil + most importantly not listening to him. tallulah was shaking her maracas constantly + not talking to phil + she also was not listening to him and running away. it was so uncanny and genuinely put me on edge especially when he went back to check their beds and they were still there. they are the most well-behaved eggs and follow phil so diligently, i find it strange the codes didnt look into their personalities at all - i wonder if they got their information from the federation status updates on the eggs and that was it. (this would actually explain why the update came at all actually)

anyways loved the Horrors getting to phil. so unexpected bc everyone was convinced it was going to be a canditates attack - phil was prepping support items. though there was crazy foreshadowing with him walking in and saying it looked like a boss battle. ALSO i saw someone say he may have been targeted for his complete refusal of the federation by not voting at all. extra layer of angst bc he did that to protect the eggs + make sure no one could use them against him.

god i need phil to talk to the order ! he has so much info + theories. whats so wrong w a lil crow wanting the blorbo to be hyper vigilant and a paranoid wreck

[muikitoo]

Can I request a muichiro x reader where muichiro is being really rude to the reader only because he likes them

~ Feelings ~

★muichiro tokito★

Flufffyy kindaa

Muichiro was currently at the butterfly estate, checking himself out after a surprisingly difficult mission. He was sitting on one of the beds, with a very puzzled and bothered expression. He knew he couldnt concentrate during the fight because he was thinking about you.

He knew it wasnt good, and he has been trying to be as rude as he possibly could to drive you away from him, but to no avail. He sat there in silence for a few moments when a familiar voice called out to him.

"Muichiro!" You yelled his name while running towards him. You were so happy to see him.

"Oh no" Thought Muichiro

"Im so glad to know youre okay! Are you hurt?" You said with a concerned tone.

"What do you want now?" He spat out harshly.

"Oh i just -" He suddenly cut you off "Are you stupid? Why are u trying so hard? I dont need a peasant like you wasting my time. Just get lost, you do nothing but annoy people with your presence. I dont need you, ill be surprised if ANYONE even needs someone as useless as you." His heart broke after seeing your smile drop and your eyes filling with tears. He wanted to apologize, to hold u and tell u he didnt mean it, to tell you how much you mean to him. But he couldn't bring himself to do so.

You suddenly snapped "What is wrong with you?! I did nothing but try and be nice to you because i actually wanted to be your friend! I admired you and you treat me like this?!" You were so sick of this, you were sick of him. You felt so stupid and so used.

His eyes went wide. "If you want me to get lost so badly, then be it. I won't bother you anymore." With those final words, you left and ran. As far as you could to get away from him.

Guilt quickly washed over Muichiro. He didn't know why he was acting like this, he had no good reason to. He watched until you were out of his sight and knew he needed to make things right.

You sat behind a tree, curled up into a ball and sobbed. You were confused, why was he like that? Why was he always so rude to you? After a while of sobbing you felt a hand tap you shoulder.

"Hey uhm.. can I sit with you?" Muichiro said and you just nodded. You sat in silence when he spoke up again "I just wanted to say i.. im sorry Y/n. I never meant anything i said. I was rude to you because.. i uhm... I really like you. But i thought that i wasn't worthy enough so i tried to be as awful as possible hoping it would drive you away."

He was looking down, hair covering his face while you were just staring at him with flushed cheeks. The boy looked at you with a sincere, genuine expression as he reached out to cup your cheek with one hand and caressed it with his thumb. You felt him leaning in closer as your lips met his in a soft kiss.

A few moments later you broke the kiss and just looked at eachother.

"i love you Y/n." He gave you a soft smile.

"I love you too Muichiro, I always have." You looked into his eyes with a love-filled expression.

You were so happy, not even words can explain it. This was such a blissful moment and you knew nothing could ruin it.

Hey im sorry if this isnt how you expected your request to be like, if it didnt reach your expectations then im really sorry ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

i hope i didnt mess this up, but otherwise i really enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting