#like the whole thing with 'we want to not get stomped and we want chill pvp' is SO FUNNY to me because like.

[thefirstknife]

I completely agree with your point. I rarely play pvp and I wanted the helmet from iron banner, so I had to get into the crucible for the first time in years and I would get completely crumb stomped every other game or two. I played to the point where I basically reset my rank when I got the helmet it was demoralizing. Yea sure I'm not the best pvp player but going up against sweats is extremely frustrating when I'm either trying to get better or just playing for a specific armor piece or weapon, and I just get killed repeatedly by the same person or I'm just dead more often than I'm actually alive. If it's frustrating for a casual player, then the sweats should get frustrated too from going up against each other. Just saying

(sorry for slight rant hope your day is going well)

Yep and that's honestly an experience most of us can attest to. It's incredibly frustrating and pushes people away from the Crucible entirely. I genuinely have weeks where I just don't play it, even when I need the pinnacle. I would rather do anything else for the pinnacle. I don't care if I miss that one because I am just not enjoying my time being stuck in spawn.

And the best thing is that like. If you're a pro player, shouldn't you strive to compete with pros? To show off your skill? Because if you're in a lobby with 0.6 kds and you're getting a 37 killstreak, you're not impressive to me? When I want to watch pros, I prefer watching them go against other pros.

I know they say stuff like "but sometimes I want to relax in the Crucible!" Which... Fair! So do I! And I can't! There is no Crucible mode where I can go to relax and play casually because every mode is a sweat fest to me. The fact that you HAVE that option in the first place is already a massive difference. A pro can load into quick play and turn his brain off and stomp casuals. And now suddenly they can't do that anymore. And they think this is some sort of a slight instead of literally just being a FIX. You never should've been able to do that in the first place.

Like, sorry but that's not how pvp in a video game should function. Quick play should be "casual" to everyone, not just to you. Right now when I'm in quick play, I feel like I can compete and I have more interest to give it a go. There's still issues, but most regular players said that SBMM made their games much more even and better to experience. We still have to tryhard in a lot of them, but there's no overwhelming stomps where I'm just stuck and can't leave.

The only way stomps can happen to pros is if the matchmaking messes up and one pro gets 5 casuals on their team while the other team is 6 pros. Which is definitely an issue with matchmaking to talk about! But the idea of putting pros vs pros is not the problem by itself. Again, there's definitely issues because the pro population isn't that high so it has to be mixed with non-pros sometimes, but that's a much deeper issue and a completely different one. SBMM benefits the most people and any SBMM-specific problems (like the weird mix-ups where one team has too many pros while the other doesn't) can be dealt with on their own.

But even then it's like. Okay, sometimes a pro will experience a stomp. Okay. It's already like that to me. You can handle it. I've been told all my life to learn to handle it and to "git gud." So you know. Again, very little sympathy from me towards the gaming community.

[eiightysixbaby]

begging for some more older! eddie maybe us out late at a bar let’s have him be jealous and mean😈😈

ohhhhh bestie I can do that 👀

18+ only!!! allusions to smut, mean eddie but he’s just worried about you, jealous eddie, mentions of reader drinking alcohol

Eddie spots you the second he enters the bar. The whole place is sleazy, shitty music blaring in his ears as he pushes through the inebriated crowds. He can feel his boots sticking to the floor as he walks and the air feels thick with the heat radiating off of these strangers’ bodies.

You’re leaning against the bar, your elbows propped up on the probably-filthy countertop as you chat with the bartender. You flip your hair slightly, shifting your weight where you stand and wobbling slightly in your high heels. Definitely tipsy.

Your skirt is obscenely short, and the problem Eddie has with this is that you’re wearing it now, in front of these other men, when you blew him off.

Unable to get ahold of you, he’d been an anxious mess at home. He knew you were going out with friends but you’d promised you’d be at his place by 10. It’s 12:15.

His jaw clenches when he doesn’t see a single one of your friends around, and the way the bartender keeps smiling at you makes him want to punch the guy’s teeth in. He stomps up behind you, a firm hand gripping your arm and turning you to face him. Your eyes widen in surprise when you see him, the anger in his face. You’d fucked up, letting your phone die and not getting in touch with him. Staying out later than you’d said you would.

“I think you’re done here,” he says, and it’s not a question or a request or a joke. It’s a command, an order. You are done here, and we’re going the fuck home.

“Eddie-ee,” you hiccup, trying to keep some composure but failing with the alcohol in your system.

“You’re fucking wasted. Are you fucking kidding me, honey? It’s nearly half past midnight and I haven’t heard a thing from you.” His voice is firm, gruff as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“Is there a problem here?” the bartender asks, and Eddie seriously contemplates the consequences of beating this guy’s ass.

“Yeah, you. She’s not interested, pal. And she’s certainly not going home with you tonight,” he barks, yanking you away before the nuisance can respond.

“I’m sorry, Ed, my phone—”

“It died, right? Because you didn’t charge it even though I asked you to fucking charge it before you left,” he grits, and you look down at the floor in shame. He asked you one simple thing, and you neglected to do it. You won’t say it, but he has every right to be upset.

“I’m sorry,” you squeak, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was!? When I couldn’t get ahold of you? Knowing you were out drinking?” Eddie asks, guilt clawing at your insides.

He shoves open the door to the bar, ushering you out into the parking lot. You shiver at the chill in the air, far colder out than it had been when you’d arrived.

“Nothing bad happened, Ed, I’m fine,” you stress, but he’s having none of it.

“But it could have!” he barks, his voice stern and louder than he usually ever speaks to you. “Sure looked like you were having fun entertaining that bartender,” he scoffs.

You grimace, suddenly sobering up rapidly. You hadn’t been flirting with the guy, but it couldn’t have looked good from Eddie’s perspective. You do tend to get overly friendly when you drink, talkative and chipper.

“We were just talking, I had ordered a drink!” is what comes out of your mouth, for reasons unbeknownst to you. You’d meant to quell his suspicions, but instead you sound petulant and defensive.

“Just fucking talking,” he chuckles, albeit humorlessly. “Don’t think he thought you were just talking, sweets.”

He opens the passenger door of his vehicle, slamming it behind you after you get in. The way he forces the key into the ignition and peels out of the parking lot makes your stomach churn. You make it to his place in record timing, the entire ride silent. He doesn’t open the door this time, or help you out of the car. Your feet ache in your heels and your hands wring together as you walk to his front door.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” you say meekly, standing helplessly in his living room as he regards you out of his peripheral.

You see the way his jaw clenches and unclenches, and he brings one hand up to rub at his chin, the gray and brown scruff that litters the skin.

“You had me worried fucking sick,” he says, emphasizing this. He walks toward you until the backs of your thighs are hitting the arm of the couch. “I need you to follow rules, baby. All I asked was that you charge your phone,” his eyes don’t look away from yours for even a second, making sure you’re listening.

You nod, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. He smells like his cologne and a hint of tobacco, a scent so familiar and comforting to you. You wonder why you’d wanted to go out tonight at all, when he’s been here all along.

He steps even closer, resting a hand on your hip possessively. “And don’t even think about chatting up anymore bartenders,” he warns, his mouth hovering beside your ear. “Got it?” His voice is gruff, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I won’t,” you agree, knees nearly buckling when an index finger reaches out to stroke your cheek.

“That’s a good girl,” he says. “Now why don’t you take these clothes off and go get on the bed for me, pretty girl. Gotta remind you who you belong to.”

[sourlove]

My Mistake ~ YANDERE TODOROKI SHOTO

TW: KIDNAPPING (REGRETFULLY), DELUSION, BLACKMAIL, IMPLIED MURDER, IMPLIED VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF MAFIA AND GANG ACTIVITIES

A/N: THIS WAS INSPIRED BY A 'REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT' ORIGINALLY CREATED BY @out-of-jams

"Listen, I know this might seem sudden, but I have to get this off my chest. I think I've fallen in love with you."

Slowly, you turn to face owner of the heterochromatic eyes gazing up at you. From where he was tied up. On a chair. In your basement.

"...come again?"

The man you had just kidnapped, with the intent of holding for ransom, blushed. "I think- no, I know I've fallen in love with you."

You smiled faintly, emphasis on 'faint' because there was nothing you wanted to do more than pass out and wake up from this nightmare. Todoroki Shoto was nothing but a spoiled, rich kid on paper. Sure, his father had significant power but that also meant you could charge much more for his release when you kidnapped him.

Unfortunately, hindsight was a coldhearted bitch. How were you supposed to know that he had his own fucking gang? What 23 year old man had that kind of power?? Why is it that the one time you decide to test your luck to get some extra cash, you kidnap a mafia boss???

"From the moment you tried to use that chloroform on me, I-I felt something," Todoroki rambled, interrupting your thoughts. "I was confused at first at the audacity but once I pretended to faint and you dragged me, very painfully I must say, to your van, I knew it had to be fate. I had read about fate before, but I never imagined that it would be this..." He trailed off and stared at your face in dreamlike wonder. "...beautiful."

You laughed awkwardly, silently noting the possibility of brain damage from when you moved him. "That's great man, but look-"

"It's more than great!" He leaned forward, his eyes gleaming excitedly as the ropes strained against him. "Nothing has ever made me feel this way before: flowers, money, the works, but the moment you tied me up, I knew we were-!"

"Look the whole kidnapping thing was a mistake. okay?" You interrupted abruptly. You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. Who knows how long you had until someone found you?

Todoroki's smile melted of his face. "A...mistake?"

"Yes! Exactly! It was just a wrong place, wrong time kind of situation! And I am sooooo sorry so let's just forget this ever happened and I'll even drop you off wherever you need to go." You finished with a nice 'im-so-sorry-for-kidnapping-you-please-dont-kill-me' smile.

He stared at you blankly for a full minute, making you sweat nervously. There was obviously a screw loose in his head and you really hoped you hadn't provoked him too badly.

"So you mean you never planned to kidnap me?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head. "I didn't. I'm sorry? I think..."

The silence echoed throughout the basement as precious seconds ticked by. Your hands itched to do something, but what? You weren't a murderer and there was no way you wouldn't face some kind of consequence so the only way out was to convince him to let the matter slide.

"Liar."

Todoroki chuckled at your dumbfounded expression. "Do you really I would believe that you kidnapped me, Shoto Todoroki, for a mere ransom?" He smiled adoringly up at you and you felt a chill run down your spine. "You wouldn't do something like this," he nodded down at his binds "For someone you don't love."

You backed away slowly. "Hey, you've got the wrong idea, I-"

"No, no I don't have wrong ideas," Todoroki drawled. "In fact I think I might be very right about this one soon."

"W-what...?" Suddenly, a loud pounding came from your front door above the basement. Loud, angry voices spilled into your home and stomped around, obviously looking for something. Or someone.

Todoroki looked almost apologetic as he smiled. "It looks like you'll have to make your choice now, my love. You just ran out of time."

You swore and hastily began cutting at his rope bindings as he watched in amusement. Fuck it. It was better to hang off the arm of this psycho than get caught by his men as his kidnapper. And he knew it too. You wanted to punch his stupidly pretty smug face.

"I'm so glad you decided to see thing my way, darling," Todoroki sighed, wrapping his arms around you. "And since you wanted me so badly, I'll give you exactly what you desire." He pressed your foreheads together just as the basement door splintered open.

"From now on, I'm never letting you out of my sight~"

READ PART 2 HERE

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

   Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

   When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule? 

   Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain. 

   Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

   Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it. 

   If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood. 

   Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie. 

   “Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

   “Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

   Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

   “Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

   “Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly. 

   I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

   “We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

   The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

   I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

   “I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

   “Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome. 

   “Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

   My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

   “Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

   Oh, for the love of God. 

   “Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder. 

   “What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

   But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing. 

   When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

   “Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips. 

   I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

   “Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

   All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach. 

   I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

   “Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor. 

   Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break. 

   “Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

   “As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

   As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors. 

   You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin. 

   Breathe. 

   Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

   Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody. 

   Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

   “Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

   Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention. 

   When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

   Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

   I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

   Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym. 

   Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting. 

   Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse? 

   I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today. 

   Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

   He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit. 

   Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach. 

   “Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

   “Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that. 

   I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

   “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over. 

   “Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

   “But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

   “Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.” 

   My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach. 

   Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face. 

   “Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

   “Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

   I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

   She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory. 

   With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life. 

   A life that I won’t be in.

   I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

   Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

   Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

   Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me. 

   Shit. Almost had it.

   “Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

   “What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

   “Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.  

   “My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

   “Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

   “I was quick enough,” I snap.

   “Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

   God. Those fucking eyes.

    “Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

   “I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

   I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

   Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

   I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.��

   “You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

   “Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively. 

   “We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth. 

   I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks. 

   Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

   This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

[creepswrites]

DIRT ROADS | Lester x Reader

rereading some of my old writing renewed my love for writing this scruffy man <3 this is also slightly self indulgent oops

LESTER SINCLAIR X GN!READER

SUMMARY: The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

The sound of the sputtering of your car engine made you groan, your forehead bumping against the steering wheel in quite frustration. Overhead, raindrops pattered harshly against the top of your car like small marbles and you heard the way your wheels dug into the muddy roads. This was not the place you wanted to get stuck in.

"I told you we'd get stuck out here!" Your friend Sadie huffed in exasperation, throwing her hands up in defeat. "If we had just turned back and asked for directions," She trailed off, shooting a pointed glare at the two guys in the backseat, "We wouldn't be in this mess!"

Robbie - Sadie's long-term boyfriend, though you weren't exactly sure why, seeing as they argued more often then not - just scoffed at his girlfriend's frustrations. "Look, let's just get out of the car and fuckin' push, alright?"

"Can't," You sighed as you lifted your head up. "The front wheels are trapped in the mud. Pushin' will just get us more stuck."

"Well what the fuck else are we supposed to do?" Robbie shouted before swinging the door open and stomping out into the pouring rain, uncaring of how his hair and clothes quickly became soaked.

When he did, his friend who sat beside him - Leon, you think was his name - quickly shuffled out to join him. Leon was nicer than Robbie but was a bit of a pushover. This camping trip the four of you planned was mostly Sadie's attempts to pair you up with Leon despite both of your resistances on the matter.

"Honestly," Sadie sighed, "That guy just can't take no for an answer."

You hummed, disinterested in her latest "Robbie Rant" as you'd taken to calling them. "I still think this whole camping thing is a bad idea. Even if we'll be in a cabin." You weren't exactly enthusiastic at the idea of listening to Sadie argue with her boyfriend for a long weekend while you sat awkwardly next to Leon.

"Don't be such a downer," Sadie said as she poked your cheek with a pointy, baby blue nail. "The rain'll pass, babe. It always does."

When you heard the sound of your car door open, a blast of cold air hitting your body, you turned your head and were met with a worried look on Robbie's face. "Hey, uh, there's... some dude over here." He gestured with a thumb, arms crossed over his chest to try and protect himself from the chilled rain. "He's, uh, offerin' to tow us to the nearest town."

You perked your head up. "Oh! Sure, okay, yeah." Frankly you were just relieved the four of you weren't going to have to camp out in the car or, god forbid, walk through the rain and dark foresty area in hopes of finding civilization.

"Yeah, I wouldn't get too excited." Robbie mumbled as you poked your head out to look behind your car. "Dude's kinda weird."

A scrawny looking man stood slumped against a silver truck chatting to Leon, seemingly unbothered by the rain. When he caught your eye, he tilted his green cap in greeting and gave you a wide gap toothed smile as he made his way towards you. Outwardly, you didn't see anything wrong with him. Maybe a little scruffy but nothing outwardly strange. "Hey there," He said with such a heavy southern drawl it made your eyes feel droopy, "Saw y'all got stuck. I might be able 't tow ya back to town. It ain't far, but you folks'll probably wanna ride with me. 'Case stuff gets too bumpy."

You considered his offer for a moment. The idea of shelter was too tempting to ignore, however... "That's awfully kind of you," You said slowly, watching his smile soften into something more genuine, "What's the catch?"

"Ain't no catch, honest." He said as he slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Robbie gave him a weird look but you ignored it, keeping your focus on the stranger. "Jus' happened to be in the neighborhood on my way back home. Saw y'all broke down 'n figured I'd lend a hand."

Your shoulders dropped slightly. As in most situations, you had to trust your gut. And your gut said that you could trust him. So you held out your hand to shake his, introducing yourself. "How close is this town?"

"Jus' a few miles back down this road here 'n a few left turns." The stranger offered a hand to help you out of your car and you flinched at the sight of thick mud below you. "'m Lester, by the way. Lester Sinclair." He said, noticing your apprehension at the dirt. "Ain't one for mud?" He gave a light laugh.

"Not if I can help it," You sighed. It wouldn't normally bother you but you hadn't worn shoes you could afford to get dirty. The storm had caught you all by surprise.

Before you could step out, Lester gave you a nudge. "Here, put'cher arms 'round me."

You flushed and stared at him with wide, confused eyes. He just gave you a grin as he hooked your knees in the crook of his elbow. "I- You don't have to- I can-" You stammered out nervously. Sure, you didn't really want to get your shoes dirty, but Lester didn't have to carry you!

"Up we go!" Lester said with a dramatic flair, causing you to shriek in terror as you were lifted out up of your seat. You clung to him tight to avoid falling into the mud and he gave you a little spin, making you bury your face into his shoulder as you begged him not to drop you.

The coat he wore was rough and the necklace he wore dug slightly into your skin. But he felt warm and alive and you felt his laugh more then you actually heard it. It felt strangely magical and the mere thought of that baffled you. What about this situation was remotely magical?

"Hey, put 'em the fuck down!" Robbie said. You'd honestly forgot he was there for a moment. But he stepped towards you two like he intended to yank you from the other man's arms like a toddler wanting its toy back.

Lester shot him a look before glancing down at you, as though silently asking if Robbie was bothering you. Like Lester himself wasn't the stranger in the situation. "Alrighty then. Why don't you grab the girl so we can get on outta here?" He said before carrying you back towards his truck without looking back.

When you saw the truck, you understood why Robbie and Leon looked so anxious about going inside. You could see what looked to be small animal bones dangling like strings of beads woven together with feathers and rough strings. They all looked very homemade but pretty in their own way. At least to you they were.

What really caught your attention was the deer skull sitting on the dashboard as the pride of place. "You hunt?" You asked Lester as he walked around to the passenger side door.

He noticed you eyeing the deer skull and shrugged. "That depends."

"Depends?"

"Well I gotta impress you, don't I? Ain't every day I get to carry some pretty thing to my truck. Can't letcha think 'm a bad guy if I do hunt." He said casually before gesturing to the door handle. "Can you grab that?"

You opened the door and let him set you on the seat, his words not quite registering as you focused on the skull, fingers grazing it but not quite touching. "I think it's cool," You said with a quiet awe. "I like taxidermy, so bones don't put me off."

Lester seemed surprised by that. You could hear the sounds of Robbie and Sadie arguing again - likely because he wasn't offering to carry her like Lester had done for you - but you hardly cared with him looking at you like that. Like he was swooning.

"So y'ain't gonna be bothered by the roadkill I got in the back?" He asked, leaning against the car door as you admired the bones hung around the interior.

"Nope. Not even a little. Do you make these yourself?" You asked, fingers dancing lightly down a particularly pretty string of feathers and bones.

Lester swallowed and nodded, a little breathless when he spoke. "Yeah. Yeah. Make 'em myself, yeah." He sounded a little nervous, trying to hide his excitement at your genuine interest. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna get yer car set up for towin' 'n whatnot. You alright if I borrow your boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." You shrugged before focusing back on him. "Much less Robbie. He's kind of a douchebag."

"You don't have a boyfriend?" Lester looked genuinely shocked.

You laughed a little. "You sound like my parents." Your tone was light, teasing, and a sharp contrast to the sudden hurricane that was Sadie climbing into the backseat of the truck, arguing loudly with Robbie. As suspected, he had not want to carry her and she had to walk.

You and Lester shared an exhausted look before he stepped away to get the cables to tow your car. Meanwhile, you tucked into the front seat, admiring every knickknack and oddity you could see. It felt almost cozy. Lester likely spent a lot of time in here to warrant such a comfortable, familiar space. He'd mentioned roadkill in the back of the truck so you figured he drove around for long hours picking it up.

He was utterly fascinating. You'd never met anyone like him.

"Dude, this guy is a freak," Sadie whisper-yelled to be heard over the rain as she slammed her door. You left the your own door open to enjoy the cool air a bit longer after being stuck in a stuffy car for the past four hours. "His car's full of dead things!" She hissed at you.

"Doesn't bother me." You said absently, far too focused on the skull again. It was in beautiful condition, clearly well taken care of. If Lester did really hunt, you hoped it was humane. But you reassured yourself that he didn't seem like someone who hated animals.

Sadie scoffed as she slumped in the backseat. The anger from her argument with Robbie was starting to leak into your conversation with her and it pissed you off. But you held your tongue, knowing better than to push her. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't mind your new weirdo boyfriend and his freaky shit." She laughed with a mocking tone. "Must be nice to meet some random fucking guy on the side of the road and he's soooo perfect and thoughtful and carries you to his car. Definitely matches your freak."

You ignored her.

It didn't take long for the guys to finish attaching your car to the truck and everyone piled in the truck, Lester closing his door with a dramatic flair and giving you a smile. "Alrighty, lets head on back. Town's just a couple minutes away." He said, making sure to take wide turns to avoid scratching up the car too much.

"Is there a hotel in town there?" Sadie asked, fidgeting with a strand of her wet hair.

"Yeah, should be. The inn ain't get much business this far out here so there oughta be rooms." Lester said, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. "Where ya folks headed?"

When the three in the back said nothing, you spoke up after an awkward beat of silence. Just because your friends didn't like the dead things didn't mean Lester was a bad guy. "Headin' towards Arkansas. We've got a little cabin there that we want to stay at for a few days."

"Special occasion?" Lester asked curiously.

"Just a double date weekend." Sadie chimed in, smirking a bit in Leon and Robbie's direction. "We've been meaning to take a break together.

You flinched at the implication you were dating Leon. Lester seemed to notice that and gave you a reassuring smile. "Sounds fun." He said aloud, though you could see the way his hands gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. "Robbie, was it?"

"Yeah?"

"How long've you been dating 'em?" He tilted his head towards you, smiling at Robbie in the rearview mirror. "Hope I didn't give ya the wrong impression when I carried 'em over. I know you got defensive 'bout it 'n all."

The backseat erupted into absolute chaos. You turned to level Lester with an unimpressed look and the man had the audacity to give you an innocent little smile.

Jerk. You snorted, rolled your eyes, and turned your head to look out the window, watching the raindrops fall on the slightly fogged glass and the brush of the forest passing by in blurs of murky greens and browns.

Ambrose wasn't far, true to Lester's word. The town was small, only a few dozen houses and no major chain stores, much to Sadie's disappointment. Just little mom and pop type places. Lester towed your car to the nearby gas station outside the auto shop and you became suddenly aware of how empty the town felt. No one was outside but you didn't think it was because of the rain.

Your friends got out of the truck, eager to get away from the bones and the smell of rot, but you stayed in with Lester for a minute. "Where is everyone?"

"Hm?" Lester asked, looking innocently curious. "Whaddya mean?"

When he didn't say anything else, you just sighed. "Nevermind," you mumbled as you reached for the door.

"Wait." He said, his voice low. You turned to look at him and he seemed... guilty? He chewed nervously on his bottom lip before making a gesture to the glove box. "Open it."

So you did. Laying atop some piles of paper was a simple, silver pocketknife. "What the-?"

"In case." Lester said, pulling it out and handing it to you expectantly.

"In case of what?" You frowned as alarm bells began to ring in your head. "What do you mean?

Lester's eyes darted quickly over your shoulder before he looked back at you. You didn't get the chance to look over your shoulder when he reached up, cupping your face with one hand to keep your eyes on him. "I ain't- I ain't s'pposed to do this. Y'can't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what?" Your fear must have been obvious at this point, seeing as Lester flinched.

"Look," he sighed, taking your hand and squeezing it in his own. "I can't- I wanna tell ya, believe me. But I ain't s'pposed to 'n it kills me." He looked genuinely sorry for whatever it was he was doing, which only scared you more. "But if ya take it, you'll be-"

A loud knock on the window made you scream, scooting away from the door with a look of terror, not even care that you practically slammed into Lester's chest as you threw yourself across the center console. Staring at you from the window was a man dressed in a mechanic jumpsuit with a baseball cap on. He opened the door without prompting and gave you a smile that made you feel greasy just looking at him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." The stranger said with a warm tone. "'m name's Bo. I work at the autoshop here."

You introduced yourself cautiously, glancing out the windshield and noticing the way Sadie practically swooned over Bo while Robbie and Leon looked ready to punch the daylights out of this guy.

You didn't trust him. Not one bit.

"Pretty sure that's my brother you're sittin' on." Bo said with another acidic smile.

"Oh." You said, still pressed against Lester's side with no real interest in moving. The pocketknife was still clenched tightly in your fist and you still didn't feel safe.

Lester just laughed. "Aw, it ain't no problem Bo. We were chattin' 'bout their car actually. Might need ya to check it out, just in case."

Bo hazarded a glance at your car. "Yeah, alright, I'll take a look. Wanna come with me?" He asked, offering you his hand.

Everything in your body screamed at you to stay away from this guy.

"Actually Bo," Lester spoke up, your saving grace, "I was plannin' on chattin' 'bout taxidermy with 'em. If ya don't mind."

Bo did, in fact, seem to mind. His perfect facade seemed to flicker, an annoyed look passing his over his face as quick as it came. "Lester, ain't it a better idea for them to be here with their car?"

"I trust you!" You nearly yelled, grabbing your car keys and stuffing them into Bo's extended hand. "You seem like you know what you're doing! Any questions and you can ask Robbie, he's better with cars than me anyways."

You felt Lester relax when Bo just sighed loudly. "Alright, if you insist," He clutched the keys in his fist and the look he gave you made chills run down your spine. "Enjoy your date, lil' bro."

"Thanks man!" Lester said as Bo slammed the door shut, rattling the whole car. "You alright?" He asked softly once his older brother had stormed off in the direction of your friends.

You scooted back slightly to give him some space, sliding back into your actual seat. "I know he's your brother but... he's so..."

He laughed. "Aggressive? Yeah, he can be. Ain't his fault but it does make bringin' people here tricky." Lester said before gesturing out the window towards your friends, watching Sadie hang off Bo's every word. "Seems to work on your friends jus' fine."

"Not me." You hummed, watching the four of them go inside the auto shop. "I usually have a good read on people. And he's, uh, not good."

"Is that so?" Lester said softly. "Well, y'sure as hell got a good radar then. Figured him out real quick."

You gave Lester a glance, noting the somber look on his face. "What do you mean by it being safer to bring the knife?"

The man chewed on his bottom lip, seeming to mull his options over in his head. "I can't tell ya," He said slowly, "Because then I'd have to kill ya." When you laughed nervously, he just gave you a serious look. "'m serious. I ain't s'pposed to tell strangers what's goin' on."

Cold dread seemed to drench you instantly. "What?" You whispered in horror.

"I can tell ya if you promise not to do anythin' though." He soothed, taking your hand in his. He kept glancing over your shoulder as though expecting Bo to reappear at any moment. "If ya wanna know, you can't get involved."

"Just tell me!" You pleaded, the pocketknife still tight in your fist.

Lester sighed, letting go of your hand and staring out the window, letting the muffled sounds of rain pass through you two as though trying to literally clean the air. When he looked up at you, his eyes once again darting over your shoulder. He let out a soft gasp of surprise and fumbled to turn his car back on, letting it spur to life as you turned to look.

Robbie stumbled out of the auto shop, covered in blood and screaming. He was beelining for you, his screams drowned out by the car engine and the storm. You went to unlock the door but you watched the locks engage. Robbie yanked on the door handle frantically, screaming something about Bo having killed Leon.

But you didn't even have time to react as Lester threw the car in reverse and took off, leaving you horrified and confused. You rounded on him immediately. "We need to help!"

"I can't get involved!" Lester said, looking as panicky as you. "I- I ain't a fan of what they do either but I-" He stammered, torn between focusing on the road and trying to placate you.

"Did Bo kill Leon?!" You gasped in horror.

Lester gave you a helpless look. "I- Maybe? I- I dunno, he's killed a lotta people at this point." He squinted, trying to navigate the rain that began to streak across the windshield with how fast he was driving, obscuring a lot of the vision outside. "He 'n Vinny've been doin' this for ages now!"

"Doing- Doing what?!" You felt frantic, yanking on the car door with no real luck. What would you even do if it opened? Where could you go?

"Killin' people!" Lester said, slamming his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. "They've been killin' people and I don't get involved. 'n if you value your life, you shouldn't either."

He slammed hard on the breaks just before the front of the car slammed into a tree. The two of you let out a shared sigh and slumped over.

"'m sorry sweetpea." Lester said quietly, leaning against his steering wheel as exhaustion seemed to set in. "Was followin' y'all. 's how I found ya. Was gonna ship ya off to Bo 'n Vince but you were so..." He lifted his head to look at you with soft, glassy eyes. "'m so sorry."

You trembled, still breathing heavy. "Are you going to hurt me?"

"No." Lester's answer was immediate. "I ain't a killer. Not like my brothers are." He looked like he wanted to reach for you again, remorse clear on his face. "'m really sorry. Honest. I-"

"Are my friends going to die?" You asked, your voice warbling slightly. "Did- Did you just drive away from my dying friends?" He turned his head to look at you and gave you a slow nod. You let out a quiet gasp, scooting away from him until your back was up against the door. "Let me out! I need to go help them!"

Lester shook his head helplessly. "I can't. Bo's already seen ya 'n if you go after him, he'll kill ya too."

"Then why give me a knife?!"

"I just-" Lester sighed. "I just didn't want you to go down easy. Ain't no one ever escape my brothers. They're brutal 'n dedicated. I... I didn't want you to get hurt."

A lapse of silence passed between you two, the only sound coming from the rain. Lester buried his face back into his arms while you tried to come to terms with what you'd learnt. Lester's brothers abducted and killed people. And Lester had just served your friends up to Bo on a silver platter, but not you.

You had a knife, still clenched in your fist, and you could probably get the jump on Lester if you had to. You could steal his car and go rescue them or, at the very least, escape.

But you didn't want to hurt Lester...

"Why didn't you let me go with them?" You finally asked with a resigned sigh.

Lester looked up with tired, sad eyes. "Didn't want em to have ya. 'Cus you're a good, kind person 'n you trusted me. Felt like I was betraying ya. So I saw an openin' and I took it."

You nodded slowly. "So what now?"

"Well, ya got a few choices actually." Lester said as he straightened up. "You could go back. Try your luck against my brothers, try 'n save your friends. Or," He said with a shy glance your way, "You could come with me."

"Where would we go?"

Lester motioned out the windshield. "I got a lil' house in the woods nearby. We could hold down till the storm passes." Big brown eyes focused on you as he nervously wrung his hands. "I'd, uh, have to introduce you to my brothers in the morning. But I'd protect ya. Let 'em know you're with me now."

You felt your face heat up and you hated yourself for it. Your friends were being killed and the guy who led them to their deaths was making you blush like a schoolchild with a crush. You couldn't help it though. Lester was sweet, in the short time you'd met him. He didn't want to see you hurt and did what he could to protect you.

"With you?" You teased him with a wet chuckle. And your smile grew when you saw the way the tips of Lester's ears burned with how hard he blushed.

He gave you a shy nod. "Y-yeah. If you're with me, then- then they won't bother ya. Not killable anymore." You reached over and took his hands gently, uncaring of the dirt and roughness there. "You couldn't leave though."

A sigh left your lips. "I either stay or die?"

Lester looked close to tears when he nodded. "'m really sorry, sweetpea, I really am. Should'a never gone after ya." He freed one of his hands to cup your face gently, his touch soft despite the roughness of his hands and the guilt in his eyes.

You two sat there for awhile before you nodded, swallowing back a sob of your own. "Okay," You sighed, "Okay, I'll go with you."

He gave you a look of utter relief, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'll keep ya safe, sweetpea. I promise."

When you pulled him in for a hug, your face buried in his shoulder, you let your shoulders relax. And you let yourself believe him.

[esmedelacroix]

"I hate it when you're not around,"

husband!miguel x f!reader ♡

10 Things I Hate About You ← mini-series masterlist

"Even worse when you make me cry" ← previous part

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What Miguel didn't know was that you had already forgiven him. One of the hardest tasks in the world for you was to stay mad at him. You had forgiven him the moment he kissed your shoulder and said the simple words, "I'm sorry," Why? Because you love him. Maybe a little too much.

Most people would think that the words, "I'm sorry" have lost all meaning in your relationship. That the phrase is used by Miguel so much that it is just something he says to avoid disputes. That's not true though. You know that there is gravity behind every "I'm sorry," Miguel says.

That didn't stop the fact that Miguel hurt you. You just wanted him to feel the same pain you did. So you stopped visiting him at work and you stopped waiting for him to come home and just went straight to bed. It killed you not to be able to see him during the day, but you were upset. He made you cry, he deserved it.

. . .

Miguel's POV

Something has been missing from my days. I know exactly what it is but I've been trying to take my mind off of it. But how could I not think about her? My sweet angel that usually visits me is nowhere to be found today, just like yesterday and the day before. It's like eating a pb &j without the j or the pb or anything. It's like my days lose some of their meaning when she's not here with me.

An unfamiliar and chilling gloom cast on my office. Similar to the one that was there before I met the love of my life. It was too often an occurrence where things would be insane at work and it affected my home life with her.

She's never been this upset with me. But I guess once one thing happens over and over you begin to get tired. Is she perhaps getting tired of me? Just when I'd reached the peak of my overthinking spree, Peter B. barged into my office with Hobie, Gwen, and Mayday.

"Alright Miguel we've had enough," Peter started stomping up to me.

"Enough of what," I deadpanned.

"Enough of your sulking and enough of your wife not being here, we're friends with her. We all miss her," Gwen continued.

"You do know why she's so upset with you, right?" Hobie asked.

I finally turned away from my screens and faced the group interrogating me. "Because... I've been working too much?" he answered.

"No, she's used to that. It's because of Justine," Hobie interjected.

"Justine?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes Justine, the girl you keep running to instead of spending time with your wife," Gwen said.

"The girl you keep choosing over your wife," Peter B added.

"The girl you're cheating on your wife with," Hobie interjected.

"Woah woah hold your horses. I'm not cheating on my wife with Justine!? That's absurd! I can barely stand her!" he retired. He didn't raise his voice but his tone was definitely unusually unstable.

"But do you see how she could think that you're choosing Justine over her?" Peter asked.

"I mean I guess so but I was just following protocol," he replied.

"You could've waited until after lunch," Gwen responded.

"She needed a friend the night she went to her universe. I see myself in her. I was only trying to help. I couldn't imagine being with another woman that's not my love," he insisted.

"Well, you have to say that all to her, not us. It sounds like you guys have a bit of a communication problem," Hobie replied.

"Dios mío[my God], I can't believe I'm getting advice from a kid," he whispered to himself.

"Well you better take that advice," Peter answered.

"But she doesn't want to see me," he sighed, sinking down into his seat.

"Do you really believe that?" Peter B asked raising a brow and placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

With that encouragement, Miguel dropped all his work and swung to your home hoping you wouldn't already be asleep. Like the whole universe was against him, little problems kept coming up on the way. An old lady's cat stuck in a tree, bodega robbery, bank robbery, you name it.

None of that would stop him from coming home to you on time.

. . .

next part → "And the fact that you didn't call,"

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡ ₊˚⊹

taglist: @lilscast @lazyjellyfish300 @safixiovi @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiira @aktenati @vera4luv @skylertully @boringpersonality @ce3stvu @straw-berry-ghoul @holachaoholachoa

[likedovesinthewindd]

While we’re on the topic: I’m thinking of noncommittal!reader where Patrick and reader get into a heated argument about reader not taking Patrick seriously because she does just see him as a racket and a dick but she’ll never admit it because he treats her nicely and but he can see right through her so when he breaks up with her to be with Tashi she’s very chill and nonchalant about it even though she misses him bc he kept good company and so when she runs into him on campus and they’re waiting for their friend Art to finish practice (or something) they get into another argument for the first time since they’ve broken up because she doesn’t fight for him. Lots of that’s your problem’s and WHY WON’T YOU FIGHT FOR US? FOR ME? from patty cakes xxx 😅😅🫡

love your writing, you’re amazing!! have a goodnight 😘😘

the can of worms you've just opened anon...I love angst it's too much fun to write. also, thank you so much 💓 also again let's pretend patrick went to stanford in this.

✰ ⊹ ˚.

"I just don't want to be a part of something that's not going anywhere." You sighed loudly, rubbing your temple as you stomped into your dorm, Patrick following shortly after. You didn't want to be having this conversation right now; you were tired from a long day and frustrated beyond understanding with an explosive headache.

"Why are we making an issue of this?" you asked, throwing yourself onto your bed as he paced around your bedroom. "You're the issue," he said pointedly, "you don't want to commit to this."

"Why are you so dead set on this whole 'commitment' thing?" you asked, moving to sit upright as you crossed your legs. "You wanna be able to tell people we're girlfriend and boyfriend?" you added, sarcasm prominent in your voice.

"That's sounds a lot better than fuck buddies," he scoffed and you rolled your eyes. You had half a mind to be spiteful and tell them that that was exactly what the two of you were— just fuck buddies — but you know you'd be lying to yourself and to him. "Is that all we are to you? Fuck buddies?" he asked, a deep hurt present in his eyes. You shook your head before you could even register his words. "No, of course not, you know that," you said hurriedly, and he scoffed.

"No, I dont, actually," he countered with a dry laugh. "I'm serious, Patrick," you tried as he came to a standstill right at the edge of the bed, looking down his nose at you like some kind of monarch. As long as you've known Patrick, you've never once felt inferior to him, so it was a strange position to find yourself in.

"Tell me you're willing you're commit to this, put a title on our relationship, then I'll take you seriously," he said, looking down at you with a sternness that made you feel small under his gaze. The words he wanted to hear so badly wanted to come out, but they were stuck in your throat and all you could do was stare at Patrick as your heart beat rapidly in your chest and your sweaty palms held your upper thighs in a vice grip.

"If you can't even say it, then I don't see any reason why we should keep doing this," he said softly, the anger in his eyes now replaced with hurt. "Then leave."

As soon as the words left you, you wanted to cover your mouth in shock, you wanted to go back in time and will yourself to not ever utter them because the look on Patrick's face as soon as those words left your mouth was devastating. He only shook his head as he mulled your words over in his head. Before you could even try to salvage anything, he was grabbing his gymbag next to your bed and slinging it over his shoulder, leaving with nothing but a "fine" and a slam of the door.

✰ ⊹ ˚.

That was about three months ago, and even though it was difficult, you've found a way to somewhat move on from Patrick. You still missed him, and the fun the two of you used to have together, even if you weren't willing to admit that to yourself or him.

You sat quietly and watched as the boys' team practiced, everyone really just doing their own thing. You knew Patrick was using the court with Art, you could see them in your peripheral, but you made a point not to even spare him a look. Patrick obviously notices this and when they finish practicing he told Art he'd join him in the locker room soon before he's making his way to you.

When you saw him making his way to where you sat, you had to physically suppress a grunt as he came to sit next to you. "Hey," he said, getting comfortable on the bench as he outstretched his arms on the backrest, the tips of his fingers touching your back. "Hi," you said, looking around to see if any of your teammates had arrived yet. When your eyes met his, he raised his brows at you in question before he spoke up again. "So," he started, "how've you been?"

"Oh, I've been great," you spoke through clenched teeth as your hands went to pull at the loose threads on your shorts. "M'yeah, I figured," he mumbled, but you caught it, your head rising as you turned to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, and he shrugged. "You didn't look too sad when we broke up," he said, "or wait, I probably shouldn't say 'break up'. We were never a couple, after all."

"It's not like that, Patrick. At all," you said softly, but he only scoffed loudly. "Yeah? Then why didn't you even try to save the relationship? As soon as I walked out of that door, it was like you were relieved to finally get rid of me," he said. "That's not true, you're putting words in my mouth," you said angrily.

"It's not? Because that's what it looked like," he said before a humorless laugh escaped his mouth, "I mean, you didn't even try. You kept saying what we had was important to you, but you just— You weren't even willing to fight for it. Not even a little."

"You didn't try either," you said hurriedly, your chest tightening with emotion as you watched his scowl deepen. "Because I tried the whole time!" he half-shouted, and you wanted the earth to swallow you whole, grateful no one was around to see this argument. "The whole time we were together, it was just me!" he continued. "I was the only one making an effort when we were together. You were always so," he paused, "so loose. It was all just a game to you. You never saw anything serious for us."

You sighed softly. "I don't understand why you came here to start an argument about this now? You're so hypocritical. Are you not with Tashi?" you asked, crossing your arms as the anger made your skin heat up.

"Yeah, I am with Tashi," he said, "I'm in a relationship with her. And I'm happy because I was tired of sitting around and waiting for you." It was a low blow, but it was the truth, and even though Patrick could see the hurt in your eyes, he didn't even feel bad. Wordlessly, he stood up and made his way to the locker rooms, leaving you with a tight chest and tears pooling in your eyes.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making my sister change before we went to our cousin’s wedding?

Right, so I (25f) am currently guardian for my sister (16f) because her school is nearer where I live than our parents. She lives with me, sees our parents at weekends/holidays and stuff. My parents pay me rent for her staying here, covering living expenses and stuff. So, my sister and I have a bit more of a parental figure/child relationship than a normal sibling one. We’re chill most of the time, but she’s really annoyed with me over this, and I’m questioning whether I did the right thing.

So, our cousin (31m) was getting married last month, and he and his new husband wanted to have quite a relaxed wedding. What they did specify though was that people should be in “whatever formal attire was most comfortable for you” on the invitations.

I asked my sister if she wanted to come do wedding attire shopping (be that a dress or a suit or whatever) with me, but she said that she already had what she wanted to wear and that she was good. So, I assumed that she had picked something that fit with the theme, because well it’s a broad theme hard to mess up, and didn’t pry further.

When we were getting ready to go though, she came out of her room in what can only be described as Japanese schoolgirl style lingerie. It was a little “dress”, more like a camisole really. It was dangerously short, quite sheer and tbh the whole dressing up as a sexified version of a schoolgirl outfit thing is deeply repulsive to me, so I was not impressed.

I told her that it was a formal event, not a clubbing night, and that she needed to wear something else. She started on about how our cousin said we could dress in whatever we were most comfortable in, to which I replied that I didn’t believe she was comfortable in that outfit to begin with and that he said whatever FORMAL attire we were comfortable in. He meant not to enforce the gender binary, not have people in “pedo-bait lingerie.”

I admit that “pedo-bait lingerie” was a bit too harsh on my end, but I mean really what other reason do they make lingerie like that? Its no different to the “sexy schoolgirl” outfits they make of Western school uniforms, I’m not going to give it a pass because they’re sexualising pre-teens from a different culture. But we didn’t really have time for a philosophical discussion about the ethics of sexy schoolgirl costumes and calling it “pedo-bait lingerie” was poor wording on my part. I didn’t mean that she was attempting to bait in pedos, but that is what she took from that.

Anyway, we got into a fight about whether clothes are inherently sexual or not which was very stupid and went on for far too long, before I said “it doesn’t matter if its inherently sexual or not, the invitation says formal and showing up in that is only going to cause a scene and take the attention away from [cousin and fiancée] on their wedding day, and you don’t want the memory of their wedding to be tainted by people talking about how you kept accidently flashing people, do you?”

At that point she stomped off, and came back wearing a dress she’d worn to our brother’s graduation and then we went to the wedding. She avoided me the whole wedding, and our mother ended up calling me the day after to ask for my side of the story, because my sister had told her that I had slut shamed her and forced her to change. After I explained, our parents are on my side, but idk they do lean more conservative so getting outside opinions would be appreciated.

AITA?    

What are these acronyms?

[ofaatuu]

Similar.

quick thought.. I have never seen this but what about a Polynesian!reader with Ronal and tonowari? Just think, they have similar tattoos and culture(mostly from Māori tho.)

warnings: none but fluff and maybe slight angst I can’t tell

read part 2 here !

should I make a sequel?

(not my gif)

You waited outside of the marui as Norm and Max where discussing Kiri’s affects from the seizure. You heard loud stomping as you looked up to see the Tsahik of the clan, but quickly moved out the way, not wanting her to see you as you’re still scared of the large Na’vi species. You’re only the pilot for them after all. This is the first time you came here.

“I see that I am not needed here.” Ronal says after seeing all of the sky demon devices. “You are Tsahik.” Neytiri hisses out as she pulls her arm back, desperately looking at her to help her daughter. Ronal sighs and nods. “Get out! You have done nothing.” Neytiri hisses loudly at the sky demon and the avatar as they quickly gather their things and leave. “Ma Jake. Let the Tsahik handle this.”

Ronal sighs standing next to her mate. “This family is driving me insane.” She says rubbing her temple. Tonowari looks at her and mumbled something but something or someone caught Ronal’s eye. “Ronal?” Tonowari snaps her out of her gaze as she clears her throat. “Sorry I-“ she gets cut off by tonowari. “I’m sorry Ronal but you seem distracted, what’s wrong my mate? You can tell me.” Ronal beckons him to follow. They stop once they are near the sky demon ship. “Look. That demon has our tattoos.” They both look but catch eachothers tails swishing. “Oh great Eywa.” They say in unison.

(This takes place after Neteyam died ☹️ ⬇️)

“Hey norm! How did Kiris check up go?” You asked an annoyed Norm. “Terrible. Again! Jakes mate needs to stop kicking us out!” He says annoyed “well it’s very foreign to her, remember she isn’t an avatar like Jake, she’s real na’vi!” Max said. You nod your head agreeing, continuing the conversation but suddenly feel eyes burning into the back of your head and turn around, instantly regretting it as you see the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan of the clan. Quickly turning around and joining the conversation again with your face flushed “The Tsahik here scares the shit out of me man, she looks to serious and scary. I would get on my knees for her though..” you say out loud and laugh, getting weird looks from norm and max. you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around and see them again.”oh shit you think they heard that??” You say is a panicked voice.“Oel ngati kameie Tsahik and Olo'eyktan. Is there anything I can help you with?” You say confused as to they are talking to you know after you’ve been here for awhile. “Yes, what is your name demon?” The woman says as her piercing eyes look into yours. “Uhm, y/n. Y/n L/n.” She hums looking down at your tribal tattoos and your thick wavy/curly long hair(poly boys also have long hair)”Well Y/n L/n, we need to talk to you. Now.” The man says in a deep voice giving you chills. “Oh uhm, yes of course.” You walk with them wondering what is it they need to talk to you about because this is the first time they interacted with you throughout the whole time of you coming here, they brought you to a little cave. You looked around scared and confused. But little do you know they’ve kept their eye on you.

“They definitely fucking heard me.”

that was my first writing!! Please leave any tips or something I might need to add due to this is my first time! Sorry if the grammar is bad and this is all over the place! English is not my first language! Tongan is !

[is-emily-real]

Five Minutes

Eddie anticipated his last day of summer break to pass peacefully and quietly. The plan was to stay home, meditate on the awful realities of Hawkins to hopefully give a shit about the upcoming school year (at least enough of a shit to graduate), and prepare himself to save the new sheepies he’d add to the current roster of the Hellfire Club.

There he was, deep into his meditation, accompanied by the wonderful melodies of Black Sabbath, when a frenzied knocking sounded upon his front door.

He paused his music begrudgingly and opened the door. Steve Harrington stood on his porch in all his sweaty, shirtless, unadulterated glory.

Well. 

He pushed past Eddie and slammed the door. “You gotta hide me.”

“What the hell? No.”

“Please.” The panic was written all over his face. “Just long enough so she leaves and I can get to my car.”

Eddie opened his poor, abused front door with a frown. “Get out of my house.” 

Steve flinched at the sound of a girl’s hollering and ducked behind the couch. “Five minutes. Five minutes and I’m out of your hair. Deal?” he panted.

He considered his options. He could kick him to the wolves and have an odd anecdote to share the next day, or he could let him stay and have an odd anecdote to share the next day. Only one of those options let him ogle his middle school crush for longer than a few seconds.

He was a simple man. 

“Fine,” he sighed and closed the door with the respect it deserved. “You owe me.”

Steve stood up. “Thanks, man, I mean it. She was about to kick my ass.”

“Who?”

“Max. We were helping her move in and I pissed her off.”

“Max Mayfield? Billy’s sister?”

He gave Eddie a stern glare. “Don’t bring him up. Yes, that Max.”

Two screams told him things were going to shit outside. Steve scrambled into the hallway with Eddie hot on his tail. “What did you even do?”

He winced. “I may have told her she didn’t get any more help if she was going to be a bitch.”

Eddie stopped in his tracks. “You didn’t.”

“Listen, she was being a bitch!”

“Keep your voice down. I know King Steve’s never been in a trailer before, but the walls are thin, okay?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, “but she was giving Lucas shit for wanting to try out for the basketball team and it wasn’t helping anything.”

He shrugged. “I don’t see what’s wrong with making fun of that.”

“Hey, I happen to like basketball.”

“I remember.” Any tint of pink in his cheeks was purely due to the heat. Eddie opened the door to his bedroom and waved the boy inside. 

This was not how he’d planned to get Steve in here. He cringed at the thought.

“Anyways, he’s good at it, and if it makes him happy, he should go for it, you know?”

“I’m not getting invested in the social lives of children.”

“But you’d like them! They play that castle game you’re into.”

“The castle game?!” Eddie couldn’t help himself. It came out louder than he expected. “Dungeons and Dragons—”

Steve clapped a hand over his mouth. 

Something twisted in his stomach. This was… too close for anyone’s safety. He swallowed, trying to control the racing of his heart when they heard a pounding on the front door.

“I know he’s in there!” a girl called.

Steve’s eyes went wide. He left a chill when he drew away. 

Eddie tried to wipe the longing off his face as he shot him a glare. “My blood’s on your hands.” Slowly he left the room, throwing on the aloof air he’d spent so long practicing before he opened the door.

Max Mayfield stood on his porch, fire red hair matching the color of her face as she stared at him. “Give him here.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice to meet you too, neighbor. I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You have Steve.”

“Hmm.” He tapped his chin as if he were trying to think. “About my height, pretty face, huge jerk? Haven’t seen him.” She huffed. “Listen, check the woods, if he’s not back there, come back and I’ll upend my whole day to help you look, okay?”

“You suck,” she spat before she turned on her heel and stomped away.

“Love you too!” he called with a grin.

He peered out the blinds, waiting until she was several lots down before he turned away. “You owe me big time, Stevie,” he called. “I think I’m on her shit list for life.”

He entered the bedroom to the sight of a muscled back, its owner leaned close to his sweetheart. Steve brushed his fingers down its neck.

The whole situation was doing unfortunate things to him. He cleared his throat.

Steve whirled to face him. “I was just— You play guitar?”

He gave a wary look. “Yes.”

“That’s— uh, that’s… hot.” He shut his eyes tight. “I should— Is she gone? I should go.”

“Um, yeah, she’s gone.”

“Oh, good. Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” Steve hit him with a sheepish grin. It was the most dazzling thing he’d ever seen.

“Sure,” he stammered. “See you around.” 

Eddie stayed rooted to the spot as he left. The picture of Steve’s fingers running down the neck of his guitar played on repeat in his head. That’s… hot. He listened to the crunch of gravel under tires.

He was such a dweeb.

He’d tell Jeff tomorrow. Jeff would know what to do.

(No one would believe him. Not even a little bit.)

“Steve, that’s the lamest thing you’ve ever said.” Robin continued to walk around the empty store, straightening tapes as she went with no particular fervor. 

He rolled his eyes. “If it was cool, I wouldn’t be here commiserating about it, would I?”

“Still. I know I have no game, but that was bad . Criminally bad. He should press charges.”

“Listen, some of us found out we maybe liked boys a month ago.” He started to rewind another tape. “ That’s hot . Who even says that? Also, when did I start thinking Eddie Munson was hot?”

She shot him a look over the counter. “He’s your type.”

He sputtered with indignation. “I don’t have a type!”

“Curly hair, brunette, snarky? Is none of this ringing a bell?”

“Twice doesn’t make a type. If that were the case, you’d have a thing for redheads.”

“At least I know when to admit my flaws.”

“I have flaws. I hear about them all the time from my mom.”

Robin laughed. “She’d be so upset if she knew how totally not smooth you are.”

He glanced at the clock. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? It’s a school night. You have a bedtime.”

Headlights flashed in the parking lot. “One, it’s a curfew, and two, there’s my ride.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and sauntered to the door. “Seven a.m. sharp, dingus!” she called as she left.

“Loser!” he yelled after her. Steve shook his head. He’d be there, obviously.

The rest of his shift dragged. He was certain the store was losing money staying open this late on a Wednesday, but he got paid to be there, so it was whatever. 

Thirty minutes left on the clock. Then twenty-nine.

After what seemed like days, a quarter to ten rolled around, and he started to close up the store. He was sweeping when the door chimed. “Welcome to Family Video,” he said without looking up, “let me know if you need anything.”

“A place to hide would be wonderful.” He looked up to find Eddie Munson approaching the counter, curls mussed and breathing hard. 

Damn it, Robin was right.

“Okay, but we close in five minutes.”

“Something’s better than nothing,” he replied, hopping over the counter.

Steve abandoned his broom. Keith could whine at him tomorrow if he really cared about three whole crumbs on the floor. He walked back to find Eddie curled into a ball, tucked tightly in the corner between the overstock candy and the safe. “Who are you running from, anyway?”

“The cops.”

He blinked. “The cops?”

“Fine, one cop. But this new deputy’s a huge dick. He’s been trying to bust me over nothing all summer, and I really, really don’t want to get arrested tonight.”

“I highly doubt it’s nothing.”

“He saw me talking to Rick one time!”

“The drug dealer?”

Eddie shushed him, one long finger over his lips. “Grandma says it’s not polite to call him that.” That got a laugh out of Steve. “I met your children yesterday. They’re assholes.”

He sighed. “They’re my assholes, though. Are they adjusting alright?”

“About as well as any freshmen.”

“So, terribly.”

“Pretty much.” He attempted a dramatic flourish, only managing to knock over a box of Twix. “I’ll be a gracious super-senior and radicalize them before I hand over custody for the weekend.”

“Oh, good. I’d hate for them to learn nothing at school.” 

He was basking in Eddie’s chuckle, a warm, pretty sound, when a car came to a stop outside. His face fell. “Stay here,” he ordered and spared a glance at the clock.

9:58. Close enough.

He stepped out from behind the counter and met the officer at the door. “I’m sorry, sir, but we’re closed.”

“I’m looking for someone, actually. Eddie Munson. Do you know him?”

“Only in passing. He’s not here. We actually haven't had a customer in the last hour.”

The officer fixed him with a harsh look. “You’re sure?”

“I’d pull the report, but I’ve already shut down the terminals, and they take forever to boot back up.”

He huffed. “How much longer are you here for?”

“Maybe fifteen minutes? I’ve just got to finish rewinding this tape.”

“If you see him, give us a call.” 

“Absolutely. Have a good night.” The officer nodded sharply and turned on his heel. Steve locked the door behind him.

The air hung tense as he returned to the counter. Eddie sat as still as stone until the car finally pulled out and started down the road. “You’re okay now.”

He unfolded himself and stood. “You’re beautiful.” 

Steve stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

He flushed bright red. “You do that well!” he said quickly. “You know, lie.”

“Oh! Thanks. Lots of practice, I suppose.” He could feel his heart fluttering. Eddie called him beautiful? What the hell was happening?

“Well, I guess I should get going.”

“We can leave through the back.” He gave the store a last glance before leading Eddie out. 

Eddie paused once they were in the cool night air. “Seriously, thank you. My knight in shining armor.”

“No problem. Just paying you back.” The silence hung for a beat too long. “I can walk you to your car?”

“I’ve just gotta cut through the fence row and I’ll be good. Thanks, though.”

Steve could barely make it out in the shadows, but he could see Eddie debating something with himself. He locked the door behind them, giving him time to come to a decision.

When he turned back, Eddie pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips.

Every semblance of a thought left his brain. Steve decided, there and then, that he liked kissing boys. He especially liked kissing Eddie. He’d never had the whole fireworks experience before, but he got it now. It felt like his head was swimming, mesmerized by chapped lips and tobacco.

Too soon, Eddie pulled back. “Was… was that okay?” 

All he could do was nod.

“Good.” He started for the trees.

“See you later?” Steve called feebly. God, he wanted to.

Bathed in the orange of the streetlight, Eddie gave him a salute. “You know where to find me.” Before he could think again, he was alone. 

Robin was going to be pissed.

[bitterkarmaa]

ye

This has been rotating in my head non-stop

‼️TW SEIZURE‼️

-

Sun had emphasized how important it was for everyone to be present during family movie night. Eclipse understood that, honestly. How would it be family movie night without the whole family?

He supposed that they’d just have to find that out tonight.

If he had to watch Air Bud one more goddamn time, he might just kill everyone in the room. And, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t exactly want to do that.

So, he’s resolved himself to hide on the platform that overlooks the theater, peering in between the bars of the banister. His rays are retracted, the vibrant colors of his clothes hidden by a blanket that he has pulled over his shoulders. Plus, added bonus, it keeps him warm. Today isn’t a great day physically for him, so the extra comfort is appreciated.

When the soft chatters of everyone else begins to filter up to him from below, signaling his family’s arrival, he backs away from the banister and scuttles towards the door hidden amongst the various boxes and crates of equipment. With one last glance over his shoulder, he hears Rays quietly ask where he is, with Blood Moon’s more firm voice not far behind.

He lingers, one hand on the doorknob.

“What if he’s gotten himself hurt again? What if he’s stuck somewhere? What if-“

“Blood, he’s fine. He’s probably just skipping out on movie night because we aren’t watching one of his cheesy horror films.” Moon’s sharp voice cuts in, a sigh leaving his mouth as Blood Moon continues to grumble behind him.

“Hurt?” Rays’ soft, yet mortified tone paints a picture of his expression in Eclipse’s head: eyes wide, blanket pulled tightly over his shoulders, shaking fingers curled into the fabric. It’s almost enough to make Eclipse reveal himself and come down. Almost.

“Yeah, he’s kinda a danger magnet.” Moon admits, moving towards the staircase that leads up to the platform Eclipse is hidden on.

“I doubt he’s in danger, though. He usually gets paranoid when he’s doing stupid shit, but he’s been pretty chill lately. Have you tried calling him?”

Blood Moon pauses. “No.”

“Try that, then get back to me.”

Moon takes the stairs two at a time. Eclipse knows he likes to show off, since he only does it in front of others.

Tsk. I could do that, too.

Eclipse opens the door, slipping into the hallway behind. In a slight panic, he tugs on the handle, pulling it shut behind him as quickly as possible. Not long after, he hears Moon’s footsteps outside.

With a sigh of relief, he turns away from the door, facing the rest of the corridor.

He lets out half of a yelp before slapping his hands over his mouth, glaring daggers at the tall figure before him as Moon’s movements pause outside.

Familiar red eyes stare down at Eclipse, albeit dimmer than he remembers. He slowly uncovers his mouth as Moon continues on with his task, presumably getting the movie started.

“What are you doing here?” Eclipse hisses under his breath.

Kill Code blinks. Slowly, carefully, as if uncertain what the action’s purpose is. Acting on autopilot. Eclipse is further disturbed.

“…hello?”

Kill Code shakes its head slightly, letting out a huff. “My hall. You know this.”

Eclipse leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, reassured by Kill Code’s more familiar behavior. “You can’t own a hallway. I needed somewhere to hide. Can you help, or not?”

Kill Code narrows his eyes, his claws twitching at his sides. It sways precariously on unsteady paws.

Eclipse fights the urge to move forwards and steady him.

“Follow.” It grunts, turning around and beginning to saunter back down the hall. Eclipse hesitates a few moments before trailing behind, keeping his footsteps light in comparison to Kill Code’s heavy stomping.

It’s small things that catch his attention. The stumbles, the pauses. The way each step seems to take all of Kill Code’s energy. So much effort for a single movement.

Then, Eclipse jumps again, startled by the ringing of a call coming in. Kill Code flinches, too, tail lashing through the air as it turns to growl at Eclipse.

Eclipse stumbles back, Blood Moon’s contact flashing across his sight. He declines the call in an annoyed(and maybe frightened) frenzy, trying to move away, a snarky quip ready on his tongue to dismiss himself back to his sons. But a hand with long, sharp claws closes around his wrist, pulling him closer instead.

“S-Stop, stop! Dad-“ Eclipse grits out, trying to pry himself free from Kill Code’s grasp. For a moment, Kill Code remains still, gaze hauntingly hollow. Before long, however, it releases Eclipse, robotically leaning away once more.

“What is wrong with you right now? You’ve been off since I got back here!” Eclipse snaps, holding his wrist close to his chest, as if afraid Kill Code will try to grab him again.

“Ringing. It’s irritating.” Kill Code says lowly. His eyes still seem…off.

“It was Blood Moon, probably wondering where I am! You were there when they had their big breakdown about me being gone and hurt, so you should know how they can be!”

Ridiculous as it is…

Eclipse lets out a heavy breath, trying to expel his paranoia. Kill Code stares down at him blankly. Unmoving.

“I apologize. I overreacted.” Kill Code says flatly. Eclipse relaxes slightly, though he remains vigilant.

“It’s…okay. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine.”

With that, it turns back around and continues on towards the door to its room. Eclipse follows, less hesitant this time, hovering behind it nervously.

When it makes it to the door, it moves its hand up to grab the knob, but its hand misses and instead scrapes vainly against the rusted metal surface of the door itself. Eclipse watches quietly.

By the time it completes the process again with the same result, Eclipse has grown impatient. He reaches out and opens the door himself.

Kill Code grumbles to himself, but makes no comment, instead forcing himself inside with his son on his heels.

The door closes on its own behind them. Eclipse glances back at it, but doesn’t dwell long. “You…you’re sure?”

Kill Code pauses for but a moment. A slight hitch in its gait. It mutters something over its shoulder. Eclipse doesn’t catch the words.

“KC?” Eclipse steps closer. Kill Code’s arm spasms, and it growls, using its other arm to restrain it against its side.

“Stop prying, boy!” It snarls, still struggling against the twitching and writhing mess of its own arm.

“But-“

“But nothing!” It shouts, scaring the concern right out of Eclipse as the scarred animatronic doubles back on himself, eyes widening in fear. Kill Code turns to face him, tail whipping back and forth, back and forth, back and forth - advancing on Eclipse like a prowling tiger sizing up its next meal.

“Okay, okay, I-I’ll stop-!” Eclipse stumbles backwards, raising a hand to shield himself as his father looms over him, draping him in its morbid shadow.

“You never learn to shut up, do you?” Its gleaming red eyes pierce him like bullets, digging into him ruthlessly. “You always pay, pay all these prices and- consider, possibly, that you’ve earned some-“ It turns away again, bringing a hand up to the damaged half of its face, the remaining visible eye now wild with conflicting emotions.

“What? What are you talking about?” Eclipse asks incredulously, feeling that familiar warmth spread out from his chest, pure power running through his systems. His bad eye flickers to life, a dim light cast as an iris.

“They’re your children! They should be worried! You act as if their concern is a nuisance to you, such a disgraceful outlook-“ Kill Code continues to rant, the deranged expression on its face only worsening with each word.

“I never said that!” Eclipse retorts, his arm coming back down, aligned with his chest instead of his head. An offensive position, rather than defensive.

“Shut your mouth!” In the blink of an eye, Kill Code is bearing down on him again, claws reaching, shadow looming, face set in a vicious snarl. Eclipse’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click.

His confidence leaves much quicker than it came.

“I taught you how to care, I taught you how to be appreciative, but you act as if Blood Moon’s worry bores you - burdens you. You act as if being in the presence of the others is a damn chore, when all they’ve done is care for you. You’d be dead without them!” Then, it stops, speaking in a softer, more subdued tone than before. “You’d be dead without me, but you left years ago.”

Eclipse listens in silence up until the last few words, his anger and pride flaring before his self-preservation can rein them in.

“You sentenced me to death before you saved me from it.”

Kill Code’s entire demeanor changes. His hands retract, his body recoils, tense and shocked as if physically struck by Eclipse’s words.

“I…I never meant to…” It’s words are distant, almost confused, or lost. Its expression twists into borderline despair, snarl falling into a pained grimace.

Pricks of oil gather in Kill Code’s eyes, complete and utter shock hitting Eclipse with the force of twelve fighter jets.

Okay, so…that’s still a sore spot. Noted.

“KC….I….” Eclipse starts, fidgeting nervously with his claws. It is then that he notices Kill Code sway, staggering backwards. “KC?”

Eclipse gets closer, quickly grabbing his father’s arm, slowly lowering him to sit on the cold cement floor below. He feels the mechanisms in the older animatronic’s arm stiffening uncontrollably beneath his sleeve and plating, gears grinding, turning against themselves.

“I-I don’t know what to do, tell me what to do, how to save you-“

Memories hit him harder than he thought they would. It’s his turn to overreact, it seems, because surely his father isn’t dying - come on, he’s fine! He said it himself!

Kill Code’s eyes remain vacant, unfocused and dim. The only thing keeping him upright is Eclipse’s hold on his arm.

Oil. Oil everywhere. Covering his hands, coating his chest, leaking between his fingers as he struggles to connect the tubes back to the pump- god, please, PLEASE no, he couldn’t- couldn’t do this-

“Dad?” Eclipse can’t keep the tremble from his voice. It stays. His hands, they stay, shaking. Clutching at Kill Code’s arm, panic setting in faster than he ever thought possible.

There’s this ticking noise from behind Kill Code’s remaining faceplate, the visible wires on the other half sparking wildly. His eyes flicker a few times, then go dark.

He can barely see through the tears. It’s hard to put everything back together with hands that shake this badly. But he has to try. He has to. What would he do on his own? How would he survive? It’s just been the two of them for so long. He can’t do this on his own.

Right?

“DAD!” Eclipse shouts as his father goes limp for only a moment, spasms and convulsions seizing him in the next. He is forced to release him and back off, his trembling hands still hovering in mid-air in front of him as if poised to touch or hold or - or something other than just watch.

Tears gather in his eyes, a nauseating amount of panic crawling up his throat. Getting any closer would get them both hurt. But…but what…what is going on??

Is he dying again?

The thought forces a choked sob out of his mouth, trembling hands moving back to wrap around himself. His rays shrink in, hiding behind his faceplate, just as he wishes to run and hide somewhere else, as well.

He should’ve just watched the damn movie. Should’ve sat down with his family and rolled his eye at all the lame jokes, only actually uttering a laugh when Blood Moon made fun of the ironic moments.

But no. No, he had to cause problems.

He had to do it alone now. He was gone. His father’s tubes were too torn, his intake bent beyond repair. His pump had choked up on all the oil, so much of it covering Eclipse that he knows it would never be enough to keep Kill Code running, even if he had managed to keep him awake somehow.

So much oil. So much.

Eclipse tries to wrack his processor for any clue as to what is going on. System error? No, those never get this bad. Electric current disruption? No, that would just force a restart. Seizure? No, those are for-

Everything stops. His shaking, his crying, his panic. Seizure. This is a seizure.

Finally, he manages to pull himself out of his daze. He moves forwards, slipping one hand under his father’s back, shifting him onto his side. He pays no mind to his flailing limbs, even as a claw tears his collar and nicks his neck beneath. It’s not Kill Code’s fault.

Eclipse keeps one hand on his father’s shoulder once he is safely on his side, oil dribbling out of his mouth and onto the floor beneath. Even as he continues to seize, Eclipse remains in place, making sure he stays put and as safe as possible.

Logic still tries to press back against his conclusion. Robots can’t have seizures. It makes no sense. The very structure of a seizure relies on the brain and the electrical impulses that reside within. Sure, animatronics have a processor, which is the equivalent of a brain - but the cables have full control over the electrical current that is transferred to each system. That pre-set amount can’t be changed, and this has never happened before, so how-

It’s because he’s dying. Again. Stop trying to deny it, you know what’s happening.

Those damned tears sting at his eyes again, but he tries to hold them back.

Just like last time, you can’t do anything. You can’t save him, you can’t save yourself, you can’t save anyone. You can only cause harm.

It’s no use. The tears drip down his face no matter how hard he tries, a silent sob leaving his mouth. His hands start shaking again.

Then, Kill Code’s seizing begins to slow. It eases into only the occasional spasm or jerk - much more manageable, as far as Eclipse is concerned. Less panic-inducing.

Much to his relief, he feels the heavy rise and fall of his father’s chest as he vents to compensate for the heat he gathered during his…whatever that was.

All self-control leaves him in an instant. He curls up against Kill Code, sobbing brokenly into his shoulder for the first time in decades. His claws curl into his tattered shirt, slowly falling into screams of despair.

The tears blur everything together. Past, present, life, death. He’s trembling and screaming and sobbing so much that he can’t tell up from down. Can’t tell if Kill Code is still breathing beneath him. Can’t feel anything other than grief.

But he’s not dead. You know he’s dead. He’s not. He’s breathing. Is he? Yes. You’re imagining it. No. He’s alive. He’s dead. He’s alive. He’s dead. He’s alive.He’s dead. He’s alive. He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s-

“Eclipse?”

His eye sharpens immediately, focusing on Kill Code’s bleary expression. The tears stop like flipping a switch. He tries to focus on making sure his father’s alright.

“Yeah? You - um - you okay?” Eclipse stammers, trying his hardest to get and keep his shit together.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

Kill Code shifts, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Eclipse’s hands, still trembling, jolt forwards to gently urge him to lay back down.

“No. You need more time.” He insists, earning a shaky sigh from his father.

“I’m alright, Eclipse. I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Kill Code rasps in response, and it takes everything within Eclipse to push down the childish urge to curl into his father’s chest and hug him tight.

“No, no. It’s - it’s okay. Not your fault.” He knows his tone is distant. He’s not really here. Is he?

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

“Eclipse, look at me.”

“I am.”

“My eyes, you twit.”

Eclipse slowly lifts his gaze until it is locked with Kill Code’s, allowing his father to carefully sit up this time around without making an effort to push him back down.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” It reaches out one hand to gently cup his son’s face, a frown crossing his own as he witnesses tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

“N-N…um…” Eclipse stammers, voice shaking. “Nothing. Nothing important.”

He’s dead.

I’m looking at him.

What remains of him, you fool.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion in Kill Code’s eyes, maybe it’s the frightening way his mind fights with itself like a snake eating its own tail, but he can’t hold it in anymore. A sob wrenches itself from his chest, and he launches himself into his father’s arms.

He shuts his eyes tightly and buries himself into Kill Code’s chest, letting the tears and torment out into his father’s clothes.

And, no matter how exhausted and dizzy Kill Code is, he sits and he holds his son while he breaks in his arms. He waits and he soothes, allowing the desperate claws to curl into the back of his shirt, clutching at him as if he’s already gone.

Because, in Eclipse’s mind…he quite possibly is.

[epickiya722]

You know what, season 2 broke a lot of our hearts, didn't it? Well, here's some moments I thought were funny, heartwarming and just off the wall to lighten things up!

Starting with the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death Arc and if y'all want, I'll do a part 2 for the Shibuya Incident!

NOTE: I may have talked about some of these moments before in other posts.

Utahime, just all of Utahime in the first episode. She's awesome, I adore her. "SHOOOOKOOOO!!"

Chibi Satoru and Suguru. Especially the part of Suguru walking up the stairs as the others were talking. "Urusei."

"SENSEI, I SAY WE STOP THIS HUNT FOR THE CULPRIT!"

"SO IT WAS YOU!"

"Blegh!"

Shoko dipping out.

Suguru was really about to jump Satoru with a curse!!!

The fact that Suguru even went from wearing regular-waist pants to high-waist ones from manga to anime is glorious. Whoever decided that knew Suguru was meant to be a fashion icon.

Digimon

That WALK!!! Y'all, those are Special Grade sorcerers!

Suguru scowling Satoru on his behavior, also... "Satorrruuu~" Did he have to purr? That was a purr!

I love Satoru Gojo, I do. But with those glasses, he really do be looking like one of the Three Blind Mice from Shrek.

I don't know how but Toji somehow made saying he took his wife's last name scary. Like, he was very intimidating that it bypass me the first time of how cute it is that he loved Mamaguro a lot.

They actually added Suguru fixing himself a cup of tea in the anime!! This teenager really had that man captured by some Kissing Curse, told him he couldn't be a rice farmer and had himself some tea. Iconic.

Ooh, Satoru didn't have to do Bayer like that. But I applaud him for taking such a selfie!

Shoko trying to explain how RCT works actually irritated Satoru... which is rare!

Riko actually was the first to defeat Satoru. Did him dirty!! Suguru actually laughs at Satoru getting slapped while in the anime he looks shocked. Either way, his reaction is funny as hell.

"You look like a liar! And what's up with those bangs?" Then Riko got jumped for that!

Suguru's bangs ain't that bad, come on!

Knowing how Suguru turns out, it's something he's the one to tell Kuroi that she's Riko's family. Years later, he had his own "family". It's actually heartwarming he tells her that.

That old man didn't even get touched yet and he was already seeing his dead dog from 50 years ago!! Man's life flashed right before his eyes and he even says that! The whooping Suguru put on him was so bad that he was having visions!!

The one time Satoru is shown to have some sort of charm is with a bunch of school girls. The teacher should be locked up though.

Baghead man really had on the All Might cosplay.

Toji didn't have to say a word to that man and he still scared him shitless. Alright, Toji, I see you being all scary!

Satoru really be carrying kids like they're bags of groceries. Did it with Yuji, he did it with Riko.

"I failed!"

Kuroi being rescued! Satoru really stomped on those guys!

The plane scene. Satoru checking each passenger all with a glare. Meanwhile, Suguru was just chilling with a book, sitting there all pretty.

The whole beach scene!! "IT'S A SEA CUCUMBER!!"

Teen Kento having that hairstyle and his dynamic with Yu is just too adorable. He looks like he has Wii music playing in his head all day. Such a good kid!!

I cannot believe that DIO's VA is also Toji's. It's funnier when Toji has had beef with Satoru as a kid and DIO has had generational beef with the Joestars.

I just know that Worm Curse was having the time of its life on Toji's back while he was jumping around and being tossed about. Also, Toji smiling the whole time while fighting.

Suguru actually has mad hops! Did y'all not see that long ass jump?!

Squid gun. Speaking of, where in the hell did all those squids come from?! I need a story on that one!

Toji talking about how he fights for a while before Suguru tells him to shut up and due.

"Am I pretty?" "Sorry, you're not my type." Okay, well, damn.

The Worm Curse pretty much "NOPE" at Suguru.

That kick was fucking personal, I just know it! Also, the fact that Toji actually thought about the curses inhabiting Suguru's body is something. Especially, given later. I actually question that when Suguru dies in JJK 0, did Satoru have to deal with any curses?

Toji remembering Megumi.

Also, if you pay attention to the Worm, that thing sometimes matches Toji's expressions. It's like Reki and his headband (SK8 the Infinity).

Satoru standing all menacingly outside for Toji.

"Is he high?" Well, given that a few moments later he'll be floating in the air.

The fact that people have described Toji's death as "turned into the Apple logo" to "the Rengoku treatment". Y'all are out of pocket! And he looked so disappointed, too.

"Mommy... hug me..." That scene is just...

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Yu, never change!!

Yuki's reaction to what Suguru tells her about what he has heard about her. "She's pouting."

"I heard you the first time. That's why I said 'huh'!" Bro was just that mad.

Shoko. Just Shoko when she and Suguru meet in Shinjuku.

Heartbreaking as the scene is, you had one lanky ass teenager looking deranged on one end and the other with the "I'm going to the store real quick" fit on having this fight in front of KFC. Becomes even funnier when you remember the slogan "finger lickin' good". What does this have to do with anything? Think about Yuji.

One, where did Suguru get the robes from? Two, given he was born the following year in February after Satoru, if I did my calculations right... Suguru really started a cult at 17. No wonder there were objections. After he killed that guy, I'm sure everyone was like "oh, he's unhinged".

Okay, but the head rubs he gave the twins were so cute!! Look, they may been raised as killers, but it's sweet that they were Suguru's family. He adored those girls and they adored him!

The first meeting between Megumi and Satoru!!

Satoru waking up and seeing his students was just so heartwarming!!!

[spontaneousmusicalnumber]

The Wasp Saga, or, How I Wasted Half my Lunch Break

(Note: If you are rude about wasps on this post you will be blocked. We respect them as important ecosystem members here.)

Yesterday it was super warm, like three months out of season warm, and in order to stave off the climate anxiety I decided to walk to the corner grocery store for lunch, eat outside, and get some rare February vitamin D. In a rare W the grocery counter Chinese food was freshly made, way better quality than usual, and ON SALE so I was riding that high. I ate, I enjoyed the weather. As I was starting to consider saving the rest for the next day's lunch a wasp buzzed up to me and landed. on my leg.

Now one thing about me is that I am trying very hard to overcome a crippling phobia of bees and wasps. From when I was a child through my early 20's I was frequently trapped inside or outside buildings because a wasp was hanging out near the door frame and I would refuse to go within 20 feet of it. Please read the following as if it required the courage of a knight and the patience of a saint.

This wasp was likely a queen that had woken up from hibernation a couple months early and was looking for a place to build a new hive. I respect wasps as important members of the ecosystem despite my deep seated fear and did not wish to kill her. She was the least flappable, most chill wasp I have ever encountered. This worked against me.

You see, she was quite happy to be on my leg. Started meandering down my khakis towards my shoe as if she didn't have a care in the world. As if I wasn't shaking my leg, walking around, stomping my foot, jerking back and forth, and jumping up and down to try and dislodge her. Eventually she walked onto my shoe and I did NOT want her do decide the inside of my pants was an attractive option here. So I bent down and blew on her, which finally bothered her enough to get off this ride. She buzzed away and landed.

On the edge of my lunch.

Now if this were any other day, I might have let her have it. Being on the wrong side of an angry wasp is not pleasant. But today the chinese food was good, and I wanted those leftovers as much as she did. So I decided to fight for it.

Let me set the scene: I am sitting on a concrete ledge, about knee-high. My lunch is inside a container, and the container is still nestled in the plastic bag from the grocery store. The container has a lid, which I managed to get over the food before the wasp could climb onto it. The wasp was on the plastic container, somewhat nestled inside the plastic bag.

Now if this wasp was content on my leg, she was downright ecstatic here on my lunch. She has just discovered a heaven of meat and fat and sugar. Her daughters will feast their whole lifetimes. She is not letting go.

I am trying to figure out how to bother this blissed-out wasp enough that she decides to abandon this nirvana, but not enough for her to decide I am a threat that must be eliminated. The next few minutes are spent nudging and prodding and shifting the container. Not a move. I move the bag. She folds up her wings. I blow on her. Frequently, often, from multiple angles. She's not falling for that trick again.

I try to nudge her off with a fork. Twice. She doesn't even move a leg, just sways sideways. I decide to take more drastic measures. I get up on the seat, take off my overshirt, and gently start flailing it at the bag, hoping to brush her off or make her think she's being swatted.

At this point a dog walker comes by and notices me standing up on a concrete wall, gingerly flapping my henley at a Monday orange chicken special. "Wasp stole my lunch," I explain. She sympathizes and moves on. I realize the wasp also stole my dignity a long while ago.

A gust of wind hits and the wasp seeks shelter under the lip of the container. My lunch break is very nearly over. I seriously begin to consider that I may lose. I realize that leaving my lunch here would be littering, and wildly against my morals. I press on.

I pick up the container out of the bag, wasp and all. I swing it left and right. I shake it up and down. She doesn't even care. I seriously wonder if I should just bring her inside and go about my day. Maybe if I put her in the fridge she would get sleepy enough to capture and release. Or maybe I'd be the idiot who let a wasp loose in the building because they brought it inside on purpose. It's a long walk from the door to the fridge.

I get to the door. Now or never. One last idea. I drop it a few inches. This is the move: Precisely enough to make her lose her grip on the container. My last view of her is on her back, wings not even buzzing, legs flailing as she tries to stand up. I snatch what is now mine by right of combat and flee indoors.

It was 76 degrees that day, yesterday afternoon. Tonight it will get down to 12. That's a normal temperature for February. She should not have been awake yet. I hope that despite all the grief and indignity she caused me, that she found somewhere safe and warm to hide, and that she finds somewhere just as good as my container of chinese food to build a nest.

[danikamariewrites]

Anxious

Hunt x reader

Warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack, Pollux

You couldn’t stop the shaking of your hand as you reached for the elevator button. There was no reason you should be shaking. But your mind wouldn’t stop racing.

You felt like you were missing something and it sent you spiraling. Between work, the summer holidays, and how busy Hunt had been, it was like a piece of an unsolvable puzzle in your brain was missing.

The elevator of the Comitium lurched causing you to jump, gripping the cool metal railing of the glass box.

Focusing on the lit up floor numbers you take deep calming breaths. You just wanted to enjoy lunch with your boyfriend. The ding has you anxious, bouncing on the balls of your feet to get out of the tiny space.

As soon as the doors parted you raced out onto the office floor.

You keep taking deep breaths as you walk through the desks of angels working, none of them paying any attention to you. Keeping your head down you miss the male in front of you, walking straight into his chest.

“Sorry,” you mutter. Looking up you take in the menacing grin and perfect blonde hair. Pollux.

The blood thirsty angel has always made you nervous. From Hunt’s stories alone, seeing him from afar gave you chills and a bad feeling in your gut. Seeing him up close is a whole other thing. There’s nothing kind or genuine in those eyes. Only threat assessment. You could see the gears turning in his mind. How could he use you to cause Hunt the most pain? You didn’t want to find out.

The thoughts made your already racing heart pound against your rib cage. Pollux’s smirk widened at the scent of your anxiety. “Well, well what do we have here?” His mocking tone sent shivers down your spine. “Athalar’s little toy.”

You felt like you were about to drop to your knees and throw up. It was taking an insurmountable effort to keep looking Pollux in the eye. He was the last thing you needed to be looking over your shoulder for on top of all your other responsibilities.

Breathing became a chore again. Your hands shaking along with your knees. Why were you here? Didn’t you have things to do?

“Pollux!” A crackle of electricity went through the air with the deep growl. You felt everyone stop. The tension in the air thick as Hunt stomped toward Pollux.

Hunts nostrils flare at the scent of your worry. His usually soft eyes turn hard and unforgiving as he looks at Pollux. Hunt grabs the fucker by his shoulders, pushing him away from you hard. His cold laugh has you looking away from the males.

Hunt snarls at the fucker. Gently grabbing your Hunt guides you over to the balcony. Scooping you in his arms, Hunt takes off, flying fast and far away from the Comitium. After what feels like hours of listening to Hunt's soft wing beats he lands in the park by the Istros.

Getting out of his arms you make a beeline for the shade of the closest tree. You drop to the ground, running your fingers through the cool grass to calm down. Hunt follows, kneeling next to you. You can hear him saying something but the beating of your heart was too loud to make out his words.

Hunt moves to sit knee-to-knee with you. His wings move to hide you from the world. Hunt gently holds your face in his large hands. You look at him through blurry eyes. Tears welling and falling thick down your cheeks. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Was it Pollux?” He asked with an edge in his voice.

You shake your head no. “It’s just…everything. And I feel like there is just so much I should be doing, but I’m not.” You give Hunt a defeated look along with the saddest pout you’ve ever given him. Hunt pulls you to his chest, smoothing your hair.

“It’s going to be ok, y/n,” he said in a hushed tone. “You’re not alone sweetheart. Let me help you, yeah.” You bury your face into his chest, clinging to him as Hunt pulls you into his arms. Hunt carefully lifts off taking you back home.

[kendrene]

20. things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear + whichever ship your heart desires 🙃

Ava coming home from the bar at the end of an afternoon shift, the village unusually quiet around her. Streets empty, the houses hunkered down, squatting almost, as rain-promising clouds roll in from the north, bellies low, scraping the bottom of the valley.

A first drop of rain hits her shoulder. Cold, it sends chills down her spine. Ava is dressed for earlier heat. Tank top. Shorts. Second hand shoes that feel one step away from coming apart.

Hunching her shoulders, body curling around her prize. The croissants inside the paper bag are leftovers from the bakery - Ava got them half-price. The ones Beatrice loves, that she rarely allows them to get. They're on a budget. They need to save what they earn.

Ava thinks in part it's just excuses. Suspects that a big part of Bea, who is so efficient in taking care of her, doesn't know how to be nice to herself.

The stairs leading up to the apartment. Old and creaky, but after weeks of Beatrice teaching Ava how to move she doesn't make a sound. Ava sneaking in, pausing as Beatrice's voice drifts to her from their shared bedroom.

"I don't know how to protect her." Bea's tone is forcibly flat, tension crystallised, carefully trapped behind each word. "What I'm feeling for her-" Bea pausing. Ava unable breathe. "Yes Mother. I understand."

Heavy silence settling in. The conversation clearly ended. Then, another muted sound and Ava's stomach dropping at the understanding of what it is.

Beatrice is crying.

Ava wanting to be angry at Mother Superion for making Bea cry, angrier that she can't. It's because of her Beatrice is crying, and lashing out would mean letting her know that she heard. Letting her know that she, too, feels-

Stomping into the kitchen, she makes enough noise that Beatrice emerges from the bedroom in a hurry, a knife held in her hand. Her eyes, red and a touch puffy the only sign of her emotional distress.

"I brought snacks!" Ava reveals the croissants with a flourish. Puts on a smile she does not really feel. Beatrice opens her mouth, eyebrows drawn, and Ava hurries to add that she got the croissants on sale. They could have them for breakfast in the morning, or heat them up now. In the small toaster oven the last tenant left, the way Bea taught her to do so that the pastry doesn't go all floppy and wet.

Bea has taught her so many things.

The can do whatever she likes.

"I think we could have them now." Bea's smile, a little strained but there. Like glimpses of sunlight through quilted clouds after the rain. "I'll brew us some tea."

Things clicking in a different way. How they move around inside their tiny kitchen without jostling. Ava grabbing the plates stored in the cupboards over Bea's head. Beatrice reaching behind her for their stash of tea. There's little left, Ava notes, her mind stumbling over the smallest of details so that she doesn't have to think of what she heard.

Bea has feelings for her.

Bea likes her. Likes her back, likes her back, likes her back.

And later that night the bed being too small to contain their tired bodies and their shared secret. Ava making sense of the nightmares that wake Beatrice up. Of the nights when Bea doesn't come to bed at all, nights in which she sits by the window, keeps watch until dawn.

Afraid to fall asleep and wake up tangled, warm back against her front. The stretch of space between them a chasm. An intractable ocean. Their bodies obeying other laws - like hydrogen and oxygen the two of them a whole that can't be decomposed.

Beatrice stammering apologies in the light of morning. Ava waving them away. I know. She says by looks and touch alone. I feel it too.

I love you.

[clonemando]

I think I'm super late to the party so if you're not doing the pairing requests anymore that's chill but if you are, how would you feel abt some Dogma/Fives? Love all the other stuff you did too btw❤️

It is never too late to send me requests! They make me so excited to write! Also I love Dogma and Fives! Great pairing! Thank you for requesting them.

Fives was nervous as he made his way through the Coruscant Guard barracks, not because he feared the Guard especially now he was one of them, but because of his goal. It had only been a few months since Fox had lost his shit and punched the Chancellor in the face so hard that the whole dude exploded like evil confetti and since then a lot of secrets came out.

Turns out Fox gets chatty when he's on pain meds and that's the reason the idiot never wanted to take them and would just suffer instead. As soon as the Jedi got him on the first dose for his injuries he spilled everything. Including the fact he had been taking in troopers slated from decommissioning from other battalions and hiding them in the guard.

Fives had personally been informed, once some of the loopiness had faded, that Dogma asked about him often and that was all it took for Fives to start plotting. Of course he had to help with the whole dechipping thing and then the whole clone rights thing so it had taken time before he could put his plan into action but here he was.

He stared at the door to the room Dogma was staying in heart thudding in his chest. What if things were different now? What if he got his heart stomped into the dirt because he had read things incorrectly between them before? Or what if Dogma found a Corrie they liked better? Doubts whizzed around his mind like enemy blaster fire and he nearly turned and ran but then the door opened.

"Fives? What- Are those flowers?" Dogma stared at him and Fives shoved the bouquet of flowers at him.

"They're for you. Hi. Uh... Yeah." All the carefully planned words fled from his brain and he just stood there staring as Dogma looked down at the flowers now in his arms then back at Fives, a tiny smile growing on his lips.

"Would you like to come in? We have a lot of catching up to do." He offered stepping back and Fives melted in relief.

"Yeah. That sounds good." He agreed then almost tripped onto his face when Dogma kissed his cheek as he passed him. Yeah, everything would be fine.