go throw up

Honestly those “reblog or you’re a terrible person” things give me so much anxiety. I usually ignore them but they seriously haunt me. Even those posts that are supposed to ease your mind about that kind of thing do not help me. Really, sometimes I just don’t wanna reblog them but then I see them everywhere. They get longer. Things like “I don’t care if this doesn’t go with your blog” and “why would anyone not reblog this” get added to them. A lot of them have good messages but do you really need to prey on people’s anxiety to get your point across? I didn’t reblog a thing about anon hate that said you should reblog it and I know logically it’s not a big deal and I’m not a bad person for not reblogging it but I’m becoming sick. I’m getting the kind of anxiety that builds up in your gut and chest and makes you wanna barf and I’m pretty sure that’s not what that post was intended to do. It doesn’t matter how many reassurances I get or how many pictures of dogs are sent to protect me. They make me so anxious I feel sick. Why does anybody say anything like that on posts like that? Why?

it’s still hard to understand there’s people who don’t appreciate taemin’s sacrifices. he feels nervous, he gets truly stressed to reach perfection, he practices for hours, days and weeks, he gets deeply focused on every performance, and once he’s done with every stage he’s out of breath and yet even if he feels like he’s going to throw up he wakes up and finishes his work. he goes beyond his own limits to do what he wants: to be an artist and to make us enjoy. and yet he’s still the introvert boy who will smile no matter what happens. he has such a strong spirit, such a beautiful soul full of love, of passion, of kindness. he keeps growing as an artist but i’m so glad he’s becoming an incredible man too. everyone please love him, admire him. taeminnie please be happy, because your happiness it’s my happiness. i love you so much.

Sirius talks to Regulus

Sirius: *Knocks on Regulus’s door*

Regulus: Come in!

Sirius: Hey…

Regulus: Hi.  Why do you look like you’re going to throw up?  Can you please do it not in my room?

Sirius: I look like I’m about to throw up because I have to tell you something really horrible, and I’m terrified of telling you.

Regulus: Oh.  That doesn’t sound good…

Sirius: *Sighs and sits on the edge of Regulus’s bed* You should sit down.

Regulus: I don’t want to sit down.  Tell me.

Sirius: *Smiles sadly*

Regulus: Sirius… please tell me.  You’re scaring me.

Sirius: I guess there’s no other way to say this than to just come right out and say it…

Sirius: Your boyfriend is dead.

Regulus: No he’s not.

Sirius: Reg…

Regulus: No he’s not.  He’s not.  He’s not dead.

Sirius: It was my friend, Peter.  He attacked a Death Eater meeting today, and Lily went there to make sure Snape was okay and… she saw Barty.  I’m so, so sorry.  She came straight here to tell me.

Regulus: Why are you believing her?!  He’s not dead, okay?  I refuse to believe it!  He isn’t.

Sirius: I know this is a lot to take in, but-

Regulus: *Grabs cloak and starts climbing out the window*

Sirius: Where are you going?

Regulus: I’m not believing it till I know for sure.  And I know you’re wrong.  He isn’t dead.  

Sirius: *Sighs* You’re not going alone.

Regulus: Well then come with me, I don’t care.  But hurry.

Sirius: *Follows Regulus out the window*

I’m Back With Fanfic and Absolutely None Of It Is What I Should’ve Been Writing I’msosorry But Get Ready For a Fic Spam Over the Next Few Days Okay?

So I disappeared for a while because life is busy.  But I was also somehow able to sit there and write a ton of fanfic for absolutely nothing anybody actually asked for or wanted lol. 

So yeah! I have at least three fics I’ve just been sitting on.  Like some of them were written months ago.  So I’m going to throw these up here get ready.

anonymous asked:

what's going on with anti and chase...? why does everyone want to protect chase all of sudden? sorry i'm lost

no dont worry about it! a lot did happen in like a couple days that it’s kinda overwhelming haha. im kinda bad at short summaries, but here goes:

jack started to play bio inc redemption, right after having anti show up in his “epidemic” video. because of this and bio inc predominantly being jack killing his patients in the game, people were theorizing that anti might appear sometime soon in the series (and jack kinda confirmed this, along with starting to reblog anti posts/fanart without comment again).

second episode of bio inc comes out, and besides schneeplestein being mentioned, Jack ALSO randomly names his second victim in the video, “Chase Brody”. Everyone then started to ask if this could possibly be the full name of Chase from Bro Average (who we already know and love). and again, jack confirms this WITHOUT COMMENT. people then start posting more about chase, including this post which jack liked as well.

considering that the “chase brody” patient in the episode was killed, and jack later hinting at anti’s involvement with schneeple in the 4th bio inc video (which schneeple was personally in himself), people were a bit wary of chase’s fate in all of this. someone ends up making a post saying that “ if Jack brings back Chase and kills him off or smth i WILL smack a bitch “, which Jack then LIKED.

this sends everyone into a frenzy, wanting to protect the poor dude (just let him see his kids ;-;) and then hours later a jacksepticeye easter egg is released for bio inc, as well as jack dropping SEVERAL MAJOR ANTI HINTS ON A SINGLE DAY(”damaged, glitched, and an “age of ultron” video) raising major Anti alarms (and thus protect chase alarms) throughout the community. along with reblogging more anti and schneeple stuff without comment, jack has reblogged and liked a couple posts about Chase Brody too (some silly, some really nice, and others…worrying).

so yea, at this point it’s been about a week and a half since the last bio inc video. and from all the hints it’s presumed that it will most likely involve anti, schneeple, and chase in some mysterious way. so for whether or not chase is gonna be ok, we’ll have to wait and see….

edit: jack reblogged a chase brody fanart with “a fallen hero!”  

gosh darnit  (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

That's Not So Different

@lovelylangst, I saw your idea that Voltron is hit by a spell by Haggar that makes them all revert to their original languages and I loved it so much I made a fic out of it.
I don’t know if you like your ideas being written out, so if you don’t, tell me and I’ll take it down.
Also, I kinda changed the idea a bit, so basically Pidge is perceptive and Allura is an oblivious bastard.

I don’t usually write ff alright.

Word count - 2000+

Pidge stumbled out of her lion, her bayard clasped to her chest, wheezing. Her voicebox felt like it had been clapped in hot iron, and black lightning sparked painfully from her armour where Haggar’s spell had struck Voltron. It had lanced all the way through the metal, and Pidge had heard Hunk whimper in pain.

Keith was sliding down Red’s leg. Some of his armour was shattered - no doubt from the hit - and his helmet was off. Sweat stuck to his forehead. His violet eyes were wide, and full of fear. He didn’t seem to want to look at her.

Hunk and Lance were nowhere to be seen - hiding out still in their lions, probably, like a mouse from a cat’s claws. Shiro eased himself out of his lion’s mouth. His helmet was off, too, but he looked unhurt. Voltron hadn’t won - but they’d escaped. For now, they were safe.

“Shiro! Pidge!” Allura came sprinting up to the hangar, her silvery hair flying behind her - she hadn’t bothered to tie it up. Coran was running behind her. “Lance!”

“He’s… He’s still in his lion, Coran,” stammered Pidge. “Oh, God, that was a hit… I feel all weak.”

“It must have been the komar,” deduced Coran, his hands a flurry at the scanner. “That spell Haggar devised. Do you feel like you’re going to pass out? Are you hurt?”

Pidge shook her head, shakily. “No,” she muttered. “I’m f-fine. Just shaken.”

“Keith? Shiro?” asked Allura. Her eyes were wide. “Are you hurt?”

Keith shook his head. Shiro opened his mouth to say something, but Keith, swift as a whip, stuck his hand over Shiro’s jaw. Shiro glared at him, and pulled his arm away.

“Shiro -”

There was something different about Keith’s voice.

It seemed more accented, sounding a little like Shiro’s when he mumbled to himself in Japanese. Keith didn’t seem eager to say much. He had deactivated his bayard, and was staring at it like he’d lost purpose. Pidge felt a rush of fear, down to her toes. Something was different, and if Keith was acting on it, then something was not only different, it was wrong.

“Kīsu, sore o yame nasai -”

Shiro clamped a hand over his mouth.

Pidge glanced at him, curiously. “Shiro?”

Shiro’s eyes had gone terrified. His cheeks were pale as chalk.

“Shiro?!” Allura sounded scared, her hands tugging at her hair in apprehension. “What’s happened? What was that?”

“Japanese,” Pidge said, exchanging a look with Keith. “Shiro, are you okay? You look -”

She wanted to say like death, but she felt like it might be considered a bit too rude and out of place, seeing as they had just nearly died anyway. Shiro looked like he was going to throw up. Keith, standing beside Shiro, put his arm on Shiro’s shoulder, and led him away without a word.

“What’s going on?” spluttered Coran. He was tapping at the blue lion’s leg with his communicator. “The lions are running, but Hunk’s been knocked out and Lance just won’t leave his! What’s wrong?”

“I think,” said Pidge slowly, “that something is different.”

Slav came running in, just as the blue lion’s jaw opened. The noodle alien paused, his eyes round.

“Oh, so you survived,” he said. “The probability of that was highly unlikely. Are you sure you’re alive?”

“Yes, Slav,” muttered Pidge. “Go do something else now.”

Slav didn’t move. He twisted a whisker like tendril around his mouth with his top pair of arms, like the way Coran did.

Footsteps tapped behind her, and Pidge looked back.

Lance limped towards them, taking off his shattered helmet. One eye was bruised and puffy. His knee trembled under his body weight.

“Lance!” Pidge ran up to him, but before she reached him, he collapsed, smudging blood on the floor. Allura gasped, and ran to join Pidge beside him.

Lance’s body was battered with bruises. His eyes were closed, one swollen with blood and purple. His armour was a mess, but at least he was breathing.

“Is he okay?” Allura whispered.

“I think so,” Pidge confirmed. She took off her glasses and pressed the lens to Lance’s bruise to test the severity. While she did that, Coran helped a very dazed Hunk out of his lion. He looked confused, but unhurt. Better than Lance and Shiro, at least.

“Why was Shiro speaking Japanese?” Allura asked, in an offhand voice. Pidge looked up.

“Native language,” she shrugged. “People tend to switch to their native language when they’re shocked.”

“Really?” Allura sounded interested. “What’s yours?”


Allura sighed. “English, right?”

“Yeah,” Pidge admitted, looking a little guilty.


“How’s Lance?” Pidge asked.

Coran was standing by the healing pod, twisting his moustache. He started when Pidge spoke.

“Pidge! Oh, you scared me!” He wiped his forehead. “He’s alright. He wasn’t badly injured. An hour more, and he should be raring to go!”

“Right, thanks.”

Coran eyed her.

“How is Shiro?”

Pidge sighed. “Still in shock. Babbling to Keith in Japanese. Clear to God Keith doesn’t understand a word of it.”

“Oh, really?” Coran looked interested. “Had Keith spoken yet?”

“No…” Pidge suddenly realised where Coran was coming from, and a jolt of horror shook her. “No, Coran. That doesn’t happen to us. Besides, neither Keith nor Lance have spoken, and they have English as their first language.”

“Not Keith,” said Coran. “His family - ignoring the Galra side - come from Korea. They moved to Texas before he was born.”

“Fine, Lance then.”

Coran glanced at her, before saying, in a controlled voice:

“Druid magic is capable of many things, Pidge.”

Pidge shrugged.

“It’s different, certainly.”


“So, you’re saying…” Allura tapped her nails on the table. Around her, sat Pidge, Coran, and Slav.

“Yes, princess,” said Coran, not needing the question to be finished. “Earthlings have many languages. It’s totally possible.”

“That’s true,” admitted Slav. He fiddled with his fingers, his beaklike mouth quivering.

“Admittedly,” Allura said, “you could be right. But then why is Lance not speaking? He speaks English, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, princess,” said Pidge. “That, I don’t get. He’s biracial, Cuban-American… Maybe he speaks Spanish.”

Allura snorted. “Trying to get attention, more like.”

“Hey!” Pidge retorted. “Lance isn’t like that! Don’t go like that! When he’s breaking like that, it’s dangerous!”

“Pidge, he’s like that every day!” Allura complained. She looked away from Pidge’s angry face into Coran’s concerned one. “So, I chase down Lance, and then we wait for the magic to wear off?”

“If it wears off.”

Pidge glared at Slav. “You know, for someone who’s always complaining about the odds, your pessimism doesn’t exactly help.”

“It doesn’t?”

Pidge fought the urge to throw Slav out the airlock.

“Princess, your idea of ‘chasing down Lance’ doesn’t seem to work in my mind,” Coran fretted. “He’s earned some rest.”

“Which he has now had!”

Coran sighed.

“Y'know, Princess,” Pidge said, trying to relieve some tension, “maybe I should just go get Lance.”

“No,” said Allura, standing up, and brushing her hair behind her in a determined fashion. “He won’t take it seriously if you deliver it. I will.”

And before anyone could say anything, Allura left, shutting the door behind her.



Her fingers stung underneath the icy feel of the doorframe. The sky-blue light swept over the stooped figure hiding in the corner. Cloaked in an olive jacket.

“Lance?” Allura stepped cautiously forward, before gasping, and taking a few hesitant steps back.

Lance was crying.

The blue paladin sat hunched, her forehead on his knees and his tan hands wrapped over his face. Tears glittered on his hands like liquid diamond, rasping unintelligible words to the floor.

“Lance!” Allura said, for the third time, but now her voice filled with panic. She didn’t know why - Lance had always irritated her, even after he had stopped his stupid flirting game - but the Lance in front of her looked like the last kind of person to flirt with a princess. What she could see of the gleam of his blue eyes he was raw with sadness.

“Oh, my god,” Allura whispered. Lance didn’t look up - had he even heard her?

She heard footsteps behind her, and saw Pidge and Keith. Both of them looked stricken. Keith had his hands over his mouth as he hurried to Lance’s side. His eyes gleamed, and he looked horrified.

Pidge stood, her hands on her bayard. She looked angrily triumphant, accusing eyes on Allura, hissing, “I told you! I swear to god I warned you!”

“I - I…” Allura didn’t have the words. She bit her lip, shaken.

Keith was whispering words in Korean, his hands in Lance’s, trying to make him look at him, wiping at Lance’s tears with the hem of his cropped jacket. Allura caught a few words off the side.

“Ulji mal-ajuseyo. Jagiya, ulji ma.” He kissed Lance’s tear-streaked cheek and wrapped his arms around him.

Allura froze. Only speaking one language. Keith’s words were worthless when Lance didn’t know what they meant.

Lance’s eyes glowed a sharp, water blue through the darkness, fixed intently on Allura. He looked more angry than sad now. Suddenly, Allura felt a chill in her blood that had nothing to do with the cold castle.

“No tienes idea,” he spat. “¿Por qué me subestimas? Quiero que mires más allá de tus propias esperanzas por una vez.”

Only one language.

Oh, God.

She had never been more wrong about someone.

Pidge had gasped a little at Lance’s words, but Keith didn’t move. He kissed Lance, on the lips this time. Tears shuddered down his face.

Allura took off running, not wanting to see anyone. She knew Lance’s tears came from more than just pain, of not having anyone understand him. The way he looked at her… It was her fault. All her fault.

When she reached her own room, she cried almost as much as she had seen Lance doing.


Pidge sat at Lance’s side.

She hadn’t known something for sure. Guesses weren’t good enough. She cursed herself.

Not knowing something certainly - that was different. Pidge didn’t like different things.


“Where is he?”

Pidge looked wary about telling Allura… Anything… About Lance’s position. He looked pretty broken from their encounter from yesterday.

“In his room,” Pidge said eventually. “Keith is with him.”

Allura nodded mutely.

“This is your fault, you know,” she said accusingly.

Allura sighed. “I know. I’ve never been more wrong about something.”

Pidge turned her head to the blueprints on her lap, and didn’t say anything.

“I was wrong,” Allura repeated. “I didn’t listen to you. Not to Keith when he said that Lance needed more recognition. He nearly died for Coran… God, if Coran had died..” Her eyes drifted off into space, but she made them stoic and rigid again.

“I don’t know a thing about Lance,” said Allura. “I didn’t pay enough attention to him - not even so I knew he loved Keith and Keith loved him back, not so I knew he cried like that… I was wrong. You were right. He didn’t speak because he couldn’t. But when Keith and the others didn’t try, I didn’t care, and Lance could easily have been unable to speak as much as the others. But no, I was stupid. I thought he was flunking. I was wrong. You were right, he was bilingual. Spanish is his main language. Worst of all, he couldn’t tell me… But would I have listened?”

Pidge didn’t stop Allura, idly listening to her words whilst tapping on the electronics.

“I was wrong,” she repeated. “You were right. It’s always you who’s right.”

Pidge blinked. Then she smiled, cocky.

“Me, always right?” she asked. “Yeah, that’s not different. That’s not different at all.”

Mister Hockey and the boy crying in the kitchen

(complete version)

Alternate Universe where Bitty is a figure skater at Samwell. He and Jack meet for the first time at #Epikegster 2014.

warning labels: Alcohol, mentioned homophobia, Parse. 

 Jack went down the stairs with a huff of annoyance. The first floor of the Haus was packed from wall to wall. Loup thumping music, laughter and yells that were barely tolerable from his room now seemed almost tangible, crushing him from all sides. He could already feel the beginnings of a headache.

 He pushed his way through and managed to reach the kitchen unscated. Only three guys were sitting at the table, loudly debating Plato’s cavern versus the Matrix, and another was leaning on the counter near the stove, muttering to himself.

Jack opened a cupboard, swore under his breath when he saw that it was empty of their usual mugs, glasses and bottles. He took a new red solo cup from the enormous pack available to all, and filled it with tap water, trying to ignore the guys at the table.

 ‘…aren’t you the most precious thing, baby…’

 Jack turned around. The guy next to the oven was muttering endearments with a southern drawl- but there was no one next to him. He wasn’t even holding a phone.

 Jack had a doubt. Was the guy talking to him?

 ‘Yes, you are lovely, a bit old, but I would love you, and take care of you, and create glorious things with you, oh sweetheart, if only…’

 The guy was not talking to Jack. He was talking to the oven.

 He was also, apparently, completely drunk.

 ‘… better things than pizza rolls, you can be sure of that, you sexy thing…’

 Jack was a moment away from heading back to his room when he heard a sob.

 ‘… but it’s not to be, pretty thing, you and I will have to go our own separate ways and- sniffle- get with our own lonely lives and - oh lord, I’m being ridiculous-’

 ‘Huh-’ started Jack. ‘Are you okay?’

 The guy turned around. He looked older than Jack expected. At least, he seemed to be over eighteen. Jack only had an impression of eyes and blond before he got the drunkest and fakest smile he ever saw in his life.

 ‘HI!’ said the boy. ‘Gosh, you’re big.’

‘… are you okay?’ repeated Jack.

 ‘Why, yes, of course! I’m peachy!’

 ‘You’re crying.’

 The guy seemed surprised by this fact. He dried his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie and made a dismissive gesture with his other hand.

 ‘Don’t mind me, sweetheart, I’m being silly.’

 ‘…You were crying,’ insisted Jack. ‘And talking to the oven.’

 ‘Well, no one else seemed to give her love, so I figured-’

 He stopped himself and looked at Jack.

 ‘You’re the Captain of the hockey team,’ he realised. ‘This is your house. This is your oven.’

 ‘…Yes? In a manner of speaking?’

 ‘What’s her name?’

 ‘Whose name?’

 ‘The OVEN,’ insisted the guy.

 ‘She- it doesn’t have a name?’

 ‘Blasphemy. If I had the chance to own such a lovely baby, I would name her something adorable! Like Daisy, or Betsy, and I would bake everyday, I would make pies and cookies and biscuits and-’

 He burst into tears.

 Jack threw a look around. The guys at the table were staring at them.

 ‘Dude, what’d you do to him?’


 ‘D’you break up with him or something?’

 ‘No! We just met! He was talking about the oven- and then- and then-’

 He made a helpless motion towards the crying boy.

 ‘Maybe you should do something about it?’ suggested one of them.

 ‘Like what?’

 ‘Dunno. Something. To make him stop crying.’

 Jack hesitated. He thought about retreating to the safety of his room, where the music didn’t hurt his ears and blonde strangers didn’t burst into tears at the sight of a kitchen appliance.

 Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and patted the guy’s shoulder.

 ‘…there, there,’ he muttered, feeling like the most ridiculous man on Earth.

 He got several thumbs ups from the table residents. Which didn’t help his predicament at all. The boy was still crying.

 ‘Hey, hey, shh, don’t cry, everything is going to be okay…’

 ‘You don’t know that!’ wailed the blonde boy.

 ‘Okay, you’re right. Maybe, huh, what could make it right?’

 ‘I want to BAAAAAAAAAKE!’

(more under the cut!)

Keep reading


only cool kids and gremlins hang around outside of mcdonalds at 12:30 am

Wynonna finds out about WayHaught: Internal Monologue
  • Wynonna: Wait
  • Wynonna: Wait one second
  • Wynonna: Waverly and Nicole are...
  • Wynonna:
  • Wynonna:
  • Wynonna: DATING?!?!?!?!
  • Wynonna: SINCE WHEN?!?!?!
  • Wynonna: Wait...
  • Wynonna: Is that what Waverly meant by the 'chicks' thing?
  • Wynonna: Is that why I always hear moaning when they have sleepovers now?
  • Wynonna: Shit, what do I say now, though?
  • Wynonna: Do I congratulate Nicole on the sex?
  • Wynonna: Do I give her the 'I'll-kick-your-ass-if-you-ever-hurt-her' talk?
  • Wynonna: Nah, Nicole wouldn't hurt her.
  • Wynonna: Wow, they are disgustingly cute.
  • Wynonna: Get a room, you two!
  • Wynonna: Wait, no! Don't get a room!
  • Wynonna: We have to go!
  • Wynonna: You can do...that...later.
  • Wynonna: Damn, I cannot wait to tell Dolls.
  • Wynonna: Wait...
  • Wynonna: DID DOLLS KNOW?!?!
  • Wynonna: That son of a bitch
  • Wynonna: I'm not kissing him ANYMORE
  • Wynonna:
  • Wynonna: Okay, that's a lie
  • Wynonna: I'll still kiss him...
  • Wynonna: But I won't enjoy it.
  • Wynonna:
  • Wynonna: Okay, that's another lie.

anonymous asked:

Prompt for ya: Marichat where Marinette knows it's Adrien but he doesn't know she knows, and he comes by her balcony late at night, #marichat tropes Also, Adrien doesn't know she's Ladybug

There was a light thump behind her. Part of Marinette’s instincts told her to whirl around and threaten the intruder with hot chocolate thrown in his face…but she suppressed the urge. After all, there was only one person who would come calling this late at night…

“Hello, Chat,” Marinette said, turning to greet the cat boy as he prowled forward, a familiar grin in place. “What brings you by tonight?”

“I smell chocolate,” he said, not even bothering to hide his need for sweets. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Marinette turned to the table beside her and poured him a mug of hot chocolate from the thermos she had waiting beside her. After all, she had a funny feeling he’d be stopping by tonight, if his face in school today was any indication…

Marinette passed the mug over, watching as Chat practically purred in satisfaction as he took a sip. If she squinted, and tilted her head juuust a bit…she could see the boy behind the mask: the boy with blonde hair, green eyes, and a shy, sweet smile…

It had been an accident, the way she had discovered Adrien’s identity. All she did was round a corner at the wrong moment, searching for a place to transform…only to see Adrien there, transforming into Chat Noir right before her very eyes.

He hadn’t seen her, and had sped off right after, leaving Marinette reeling as she stared at the spot where he had disappeared, her whole world shifting on its axis as she tried to process what her mind was half-convinced she had not seen…

Since then, however, Marinette slowly began to wonder how she hadn’t realized that Adrien was Chat Noir. She began to notice it more and more: the cheesy jokes he made to Nino, his sudden and coincidental disappearances when akumas attacked, his blatant swooning whenever Ladybug was brought up–

Marinette tried not to think about that part too hard. It was hard enough for her to still act normal around him, without considering the implications of his admiration of Ladybug, and how deep they might be…

Marinette realized she had been staring too long when Chat’s gaze cut to her, and he smirked.

“I know I’m amazing, Princess,” he teased with a wink and a pose, “but you don’t have to stare at me like that. Well, I mean, it’s understandable if you can’t help yourself–”

“Chat,” Marinette interrupted him, tilting her head to the side as she watched him carefully, “we’re friends, right?”

That made Chat pause, blinking in surprise as he looked at her. He mimicked her head tilt, appearing to muse over something for a moment.

“…Of course,” he replied, as if that much should be obvious.

“And you know you can tell me anything…right?” Marinette pressed. Chat blinked again, beginning to frown.

“…Is something wrong, Marinette?”

“No,” Marinette assured him with a shake of her head, forcing a smile. “Just…I’ve noticed that you usually come here when you’re upset about something.”

“…” Chat lowered his gaze to his mug, the slight pout on his lips confirming Marinette’s suspicions. “…You’re sharp, Princess.”

“Only when my friends seem to be feeling down,” she said, gently nudging him as she rested her arms on the railing of her balcony. “I won’t push you if you don’t want to talk about it, promise. Your business is your business.”

Marinette glanced over, waiting until Chat returned her gaze before she spoke again.

“But if you need someone to talk to…I’m here.”

She couldn’t be sure, because Chat–Adrien–Chat ducked his head too fast, but she rather thought his cheeks had turned pink. The thought of Adrien blushing around her threatened to fluster her as well, but Marinette made herself keep her grip on things. After all, it didn’t matter that Chat also happened to be the boy she’d had a crush on for ages–no matter who he was under that mask, Chat was Chat. And (though he didn’t know it) Marinette was Ladybug, and she was his partner, so if he needed her…

There was a brush of soft hair, and Marinette paused, registering the weight that leaned on her head, the breath that ghosted across her hair.

“…Thank you, Marinette,” Chat said softly, and now Marinette did blush. Oh well–he couldn’t see her face from this angle anyway, so…

“No problem,” Marinette told him, swallowing. “What are friends for…?”

Not currently accepting prompts; just finishing the ones I have!

this fucking article listed roy’s drug addiction as one of (many) terrible things to have happened to oliver queen and im gonna fight the op over this

there’s something incredibly insidious about victimizing oliver instead of roy when roy was… you know, the one that was abandoned by his father figure, and after developing a drug addiction, was kicked to the streets by said father figure. 

but yeah. poor oliver queen :(((( that must have sucked, guys. he was inconvenienced for ten seconds!!