#// would absolutely love to see anyone else's take on this

[beloveds-embrace]

rugby player Simon and his pretty little balerina partner. Thats it. Thats whats currently plaquing my mind

Now that you’ve said it I’m thinking about them too because YES 😩 i tried a more headcanony style for this, really had no idea what to write as a drabble

• You first met Simon “Ghost” Riley during an injury rehab session. He’s there nursing a rough tackle, while you’re recovering from an overworked ankle. Despite his intimidating size and silence, he notices how gracefully you move even while stretching, and you can’t help but admire his sheer size even if he’s making the nurses nervous.

• Ghost is, honest to god, shy about approaching you at first; why would delicate, lovely you want someone of his type and build to approach you? But he still gets roped into conversation when you tease him for struggling with a basic stretching exercise. “I’m built for smashing into blokes, not folding like you do.” he grumbles, but he doesn’t sound truly bothered. You are sure you can even hear the amusement. And this is how you end up exchanging number and texting, until he finally asky you out on a proper date.

• He’s genuinely amazed at your discipline and talent, often catching himself zoning out while watching you rehearse. You tease him for staring, but he’s truky awestruck by how effortlessly you glide across the floor, almost looking weightless.

• You love watching him play rugby. Seeing him control the field with raw strength and precision is hot. You start attending his matches, cheering louder than anyone else when he tackles an opponent or scores. His favorite cheerleader- his best girl <3

• Ghost introduces you to his gym routines, and you try (unsuccessfully) to keep up with his weightlifting. You love the view of his muscles flexing, though, and you don’t try to hide it. You also love sitting on his back while he does pushups, giving him a kiss ever so often in encouragement.

• In return, you teach him some basic ballet moves to improve his agility to help him. The image of this massive, intimidating man attempting pliés is hilarious, but he’s surprisingly nimble. “Don’t tell the lads, yeah, doll?” he huffs, though his amusement is clear and it has you giggling.

• Simon loves how tiny you feel when he wraps his arms around you. After games, he picks you up effortlessly, spinning you around as you laugh and lean down to kiss him much to the whistles and hoots of his teammates. Neither of you care anyways.

• After a game, he’s all adrenaline and intensity, body taut. You tease him by saying, “Don’t you dare bring that sweaty self near me, Simon Riley.” but he pulls you into a heated kiss anyway, pinning you gently against a wall in the hallways of the stadium.

• He loves when you practice in front of him wearing your ballet leotard. The combination of your grace and your form-fitting outfit gets his heart and more racing, though he keeps his composure… mostly.

• Simon is also your biggest cheerleader during your performances, sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers that looks comically small in his massive hands. He always looks proud, even if he doesn’t say much. And he absolutely glares or shushes anyone who is causing a ruckus and taking the spotlight off you.

• He joins you most of the time in the backstages, and when you’re feeling nervous before a performance, he cups your face in his big, warm hands and whispers, “You’re the most talented person in the room. Show ‘em who you are.”

• You return the favor by helping him relax before games. You massage his shoulders and give him little pep talks, which he pretends not to need but secretly loves. Sometimes of them are even recorded on his phone for the very rare occasions you can’t make it to his games.

• Said it before but I’ll say it again: you love how his body feels next to yours- rugby has made him all broad shoulders and powerful muscles, and he loves how delicate your hands feel running over his skin. Likewise, he loves caressing your skin and rubbing creams and ointments to your aching feet muscles.

• He calls you “Twinkle Toes” which sounds sarcastic at first but is said with so much affection that it melts your heart.

• You call him “Big Softie” because, despite his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest with you. He pretends to hate it, but he secretly loves when you use it in private. Had a stupid smile on his face when saw it was how you had your contact for him saved.

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── you, clouds and rain (and the wine on your lips)

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: my mindy requested something soft and domestic with a slice of spicy tension with hyun and who am i to say no? enjoyyy <33 and let me know your thoughts <3

When shooting your tired boyfriend a message this morning, inviting him over for lunch and a cuddle sesh by the television, the last thing you expected was a power outage. Even though it was still light outside, the sun and its bright rays were obscured by dark and angry clouds that could only mean one thing: rain.

Hyunjin was a fan of rain, loving the silence and how the whole world seemed to slow down and hurry home. He could be as silly as he wanted and nobody would judge him, too busy to remain dry to care about anything else. You, on the other hand, hated rain. It usually ruined all of your plans and kept you stuck inside, depriving you of sunlight and everything you loved. Including seeing your beloved and going on cute dates, holding hands throughout the day while exploring new and exciting places neither has seen before.

And now it ruined another one of your plans because things could never go your way, now, could they?

“I’m so sorry, Hyun.” You sigh, playing around with the food on your plate, absolutely dejected.

Hyunjin shakes his head and tries to hide the smile threatening to stretch across his features, freshly dried hair bouncing with his every move. “You’re sorry for what exactly?”

Thunder interrupts before you can even begin, souring your mood further as Hyunjin reaches for your fork, twirls it around expertly and brings it to your mouth to eat before it gets cold. You’ve worked hard on this pasta, letting it go to waste would be a shame.

“The rain.” You mumble before chewing, pouting. He waits patiently for you to finish before leaning over the table to wipe some sauce that has somehow landed on your chin.

“You can’t control the weather, baby.” He smiles, fondness spilling from his eyes as he watches you reach for your drink. Your apartment was no longer bright, engulfed in this darkness that would fool anyone into believing night was about to set at any moment. Fortunately, you managed to prepare everything before the power went out so at least your lunch date wasn’t completely ruined.

To set the mood and try to lift your spirits, Hyunjin has lit a lone candle between you on the table – a romantic till the end, you’re convinced your boyfriend would shrivel up and die if he couldn’t spoil you somehow.

“Well, I want to control it all to make you happy!” The statement is a bit childish but not far from the truth. For Hyunjin, you would do anything to see that beautiful smile of his lighten up every room. Control the weather, move mountains and even give him the moon which he embodied without even realizing. As bright as he was, Hyunjin was the moon in your eyes, illuminating every dark corner of your world with his ethereal glow that left every passerby in awe.

Breathtakingly beautiful, both from the exterior and from within. There was no other person like him in this universe.

This time, he laughs, eyes turning into two crescent moons as if to prove your previous point. “I’m the happiest as long as I’m with you, no matter the weather, time or place. I thought you knew that?”

You’re aware yet your heart still skips a beat, as it always does whenever he opens his mouth and hits you with such a line. Hyunjin wasn’t shy in the slightest when it came to you and the love that was overflowing out of him. All of it was yours, of course. He could never love another in the way he loved you for as long as he lived.

“Doesn’t matter.” You still shake your head, deciding to be stubborn. “It still ruined our plans. I was looking forward to finishing that show together and now we can’t.”

He takes a sip of his wine, the condensation on the glass proof of the warmth in the apartment. “It’s not like we can’t watch it another time, baby.”

“I guess.”

“Don’t pout.” His bigger hand settles on top of yours on the table, bringing it to his plump lips to plant a lingering kiss on the smooth skin. “I came over to see your beautiful smile and talk each other’s ears off. Don’t make me sad.”

Hyunjin makes a face, dramatizing his sadness and you finally laugh, returning to your meal with newfound vigour. He always managed to make even the gloomiest days happier, and you suspected your boyfriend might actually be an angel in disguise, sent from above to watch over you.

“So,” he starts, happiness radiating off of him at the delicious food, his hand still holding onto yours, “did you finish that new book you were telling me about the other day, yet?”

The rain was hitting your windows heavily, creating a curtain of sorts that kept you and Hyunjin separated from the outside world, protected from all evil in your little love bubble that continued to grow with every moment spent together. Excited, with your whole face lighting up, you stand abruptly and make your way over to plop yourself onto his lap without shame, just so you can snuggle while granting his wish. You were about to talk both of his ears off until he begged you to stop. And knowing Hyunjin, he might actually like that.

Time flies as you’re having fun with your other half, while he listens attentively to your every word, so drawn to you and the way your mouth moves that he can barely look away as he remembers to keep feeding you and himself until both of your plates are empty. If it were up to him, Hyunjin would glue your hands together so you’d never have to be more than a foot apart at all times. But reality is cruel, and spending all your time with your beloved was not socially acceptable – for some reason, you couldn’t make money this way. He really hated capitalism for keeping you away from him.

After a while, you both stand to wash the dishes, with him on your trail and being assigned to drying duty.

You’re laughing together as Hyunjin tells you more stories from work, something that happened the other day at the company, not leaving anything out. He was so honest and open about his feelings that nothing he said surprised you anymore.

Your back is to him as you wash the last glass when you feel strong arms pulling you to a sturdy chest, wrapping around your middle to ground the man as he leans over to hug you with all his might. You smile, genuinely, and rest your head on his shoulder just to plant multiple kisses on his cheek. He giggles, and you quickly shake the water and bubbles off your hands to turn around in his embrace and face him.

“Hi.” You smile, briefly kissing his nose. Thanks to the smaller windows, the kitchen was even darker than your dining room, creating a cosier, more intimate atmosphere one could only dream of basking in. Romantic with a pinch of tension neither could shake off - the pleasant kind.

The rain showed no sign of stopping any time soon so for the time being, you were the only two people in the world.

“Your smile is my favorite.” He’s staring deeply into your eyes, strong hands following the outline of your body downwards to rest on your hips and bring you closer, wanting to make you one. The butterflies start going crazy, flapping their colorful wings against your ribcage in a desperate attempt at being let out, longing to be touched by him just like you were.

Your arms come around his neck, and you’re nose to nose now. “You’re my favorite.”

Hyunjin breaks into a grin, one he can’t contain before closing his eyes and burying his face in the crock of your neck, hugging you close.

“You know what I really want right now?” His voice is low, the vibration against your skin sending a shiver down your spine as his hold on you tightens.

You shake your head, one of your hands moving to tangle into his hair and massage his scalp. “Tell me, so I can make it happen.”

He chuckles, thumbs drawing random shapes on your sides you could make out if concentrating on anything else other than his voice was possible. “You don’t even know what I want to ask for yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You respond a little too quickly, tenderly coaxing his head out of hiding just so you could see his eyes again and marvel at their beauty. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Anything?” Hyunjin leans closer, trapping your body between him and the sink as he towers over you, few strands of his hair tickling your forehead. Your breath catches in your throat and you try shallowing, anything to get rid of this sudden lump that’s preventing the oxygen from reaching your brain.

When you nod, his eyes soften, warm hand sneaking beneath your shirt to feel skin, needing this contact to remind himself you are real and the possibility of you disappearing right before his very eyes were slim.

Then, without waiting for his next line, your hand grasps at his fluffy sweater and yanks him forward to connect your lips in a sweet kiss, one that has you both releasing a relieved breath, that acts like the lifeline you need to cling to, to survive.

His lips are soft and warm, and you can faintly taste the wine he indulged in, lingering on his skin. The hand that isn’t under your shirt finds solace at the back of your neck, gingerly deepening the kiss as thunder strikes once again. Not like you care anymore; not when he’s kissing you like he’s trying to burn to memory every nook and cranny of your physical existence.

Heads tilted, his tongue sneaks in to greet yours for the briefest moment before Hyunjin pulls away with great difficulty, chest heaving as he struggles to regain his composure.

“A blanket fort.” He almost croaks out, voice raspy and heart very much disappointed when he tears himself away from you to make some room.

You blink, confused and a little dazed, hands darting to latch themselves onto his sweatshirt so he won’t go too far. “What?”

With a laugh, he throws his head back for a moment, calming down before clarifying. “I want to build a blanket fort. Since the power isn’t back yet, I thought we could have some fun doing that.”

You’re bamboozled, almost spinning around in search of the hidden camera that will confirm this is all a prank.

“But I thought…” You trail off, arms falling to your sides as you look down in embarrassment.

Hyunjin is quick to raise your head, with a finger under your chin and another dazzling smile. “Didn’t you just say you’d do anything for me?”

What a fucking tease. How were you ever supposed to say no to that smile?

[dissapointu]

hi!! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to their partner looking really good??

OMG YES, LET’S GO. You’re serving looks, and these characters are LOSING it.

Jinx

Jinx is walking into the room, probably rambling about some crazy plan she has to blow something up, but then she sees you. Full stop. Like, rewind sound effects stop. Her jaw drops, her eyes go wide, and she’s just standing there with a completely dumbfounded look on her face.

“WHO LET YOU LOOK LIKE THAT?!” she yells, pointing at you like it’s your fault. And then, without waiting for an answer, she’s giggling and spinning around you like a little tornado, tugging at your outfit and gushing about how good you look. But it’s Jinx, so she’ll probably throw in something like:

“I could never wear that—I’d blow it up in five minutes. BUT YOU?! You’re, like, my shiny bombshell baby now!”

Vi

Okay, so Vi acts all tough and cool, right? But when she sees you? Girl is GONE. She leans back in her chair, smirks, and tries to play it cool.

“Damn, babe, where’s the fire? Oh wait—it’s YOU.”

She totally thinks she’s being smooth, but her ears are turning red, and she cannot stop staring. She’ll make some excuse to touch you, too, like fixing a stray hair or adjusting your jacket, just so she can get a closer look.

“You’re killin’ me here,” she mutters under her breath, and yeah, she’s absolutely whipped.

Sevika

You walk into the bar looking too good, and Sevika’s mid-drink when she sees you. She chokes. Like, literally sputters into her glass because she was NOT READY. She tries to recover, clears her throat, and narrows her eyes at you like you did this on purpose.

“Alright, who are you trying to impress?” she teases, but her voice is all low and growly, and she’s totally jealous of anyone else who gets to see you looking like this.

If you’re lucky, she’ll slide an arm around your waist and pull you close, her mechanical arm whirring a little as she leans in to murmur, “You keep lookin’ like that, I’m gonna have to start a fight just to keep people’s eyes off you.”

Silco

Silco’s usually composed, right? All cold, calculating power. But when he sees you, he goes silent. Like, dead silent. His heterochromatic eyes narrow just slightly, and you can tell he’s looking you over, taking in everything.

“Impressive,” he finally says, his voice smooth but with just enough edge to send a shiver down your spine. He doesn’t say more because he knows you know exactly what he’s thinking, but the way his hand lingers on your arm when he passes you? Yeah, you’ve officially ruined his ability to focus for the rest of the day.

Vander

Vander is polishing a glass behind the bar when you walk in, and the man literally freezes. The glass slips from his hand, clattering onto the counter, and for a moment, he’s just staring at you with this big, goofy grin on his face.

“Look at you,” he says, his voice all warm and soft, like he can’t believe his luck. He’s not one to gush, but you’ll catch him sneaking glances at you all night, shaking his head like, How did I get so lucky?

And when you catch him staring, he’ll just laugh and say, “Can you blame me?”

Ekko

Ekko’s mid-sentence when you walk in, and he just stops talking. Like, whatever he was saying? Gone. Deleted. Replaced by you.

“Uh…damn.” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to do with himself, because holy crap, you’re stunning. “Okay, but why are you trying to flex on me like this?”

He’ll pretend to pout for like two seconds before breaking into this huge grin and pulling you into a quick spin. “You look incredible. Seriously. You’re making it really hard for me to focus.”

Jayce

Jayce is a talker, so the moment he sees you, he’s throwing out compliments like confetti.

“Wow. Just…wow. Is this legal? You’re stunning. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. Should I keep going? Because I could keep going.”

He’s like a golden retriever, so excited and genuinely in awe, and he’ll definitely try to take like 50 pictures of you, “for science,” but really just because he can’t get over how good you look.

Viktor

Oh, Viktor is a mess. Like, full-on short-circuiting. He notices you immediately, but he’s so shy about it, he pretends to be focused on his work, even though the pen in his hand is hovering three inches above the page.

“You, uh…you look very nice,” he finally mumbles, his face going completely red. But when you catch him staring (because he’s DEFINITELY staring), he’ll push up his glasses and awkwardly add, “I mean, you always do, but tonight, especially…uh…”

Just kiss him already. The poor man can’t handle it.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the type to notice right away but say nothing—at first. She’ll just smile, that soft little oh, you’ve outdone yourself this time smile, and let you catch her admiring you.

“You look incredible,” she says, her voice calm but with just enough warmth to make your cheeks burn. She’ll offer you her arm, all proper and elegant, and lead you into whatever event you’re attending, acting like it’s your moment to shine.

But don’t let her fool you. Inside, she’s absolutely glowing.

Mel Medarda

Mel is a queen, and she acts like one. So when she sees you, she doesn’t react immediately. No, she takes her time looking you over, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“You’re stunning,” she purrs, her voice dripping with admiration. “But then, I’d expect nothing less from you.”

She’s totally the type to dress even better next time just so you two can be the most powerful, glamorous couple in the room.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa doesn’t do subtle. The moment she sees you, she lets out this low, appreciative hum, her eyes gleaming with approval.

“You’ve outdone yourself,” she says, stepping closer, her presence almost overwhelming. “It’s…intoxicating.”

She’ll rest a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but affectionate, and you can feel the pride radiating off her. She knows everyone else is looking at you, and she loves it.

Heimerdinger

“Oh, my stars! My dear, you look absolutely radiant!”

Heimerdinger’s ears perk up, and his little mustache twitches with excitement. He’ll walk around you in circles, marveling at your outfit and making a bunch of overly enthusiastic comments about the “design work” and “craftsmanship,” even if it’s just a plain dress.

“You must let me take a closer look at this fabric—it’s magnificent!”

It’s adorable, really.

Salo

Salo’s not one to gush, but he’ll give you this small, approving nod when he sees you.

“You clean up well,” he says, his tone casual but with just enough edge to let you know he’s impressed.

If you’re lucky, you might catch him stealing a glance at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Scar

Scar sees you and immediately whistles low under his breath.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his grin all crooked and playful. “What’s the occasion, doll?”

He’ll definitely tease you, but you can tell he’s really into it by the way he keeps sneaking closer, like he just can’t help himself.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is blunt, so when she sees you, she just blurts it out:

“Damn, you look good.”

She doesn’t sugarcoat it, doesn’t make it a big thing. But the way her gaze lingers a little too long? Yeah, she’s head over heels.

Lest

Lest is normally composed, but the moment she sees you, she falters.

“You look…” she pauses, searching for the right word, and then just gives up with a little smile. “Amazing.”

It’s simple, but the way she looks at you? Like you’ve hung the moon? That says it all.

[lady-griffin]

Jinx's Hallucinations + Ekko

Before Act III drops, I wanted to talk about an aspect of Timebomb that I'm quite fascinated by -

Ekko isn’t a trigger for Jinx’s hallucinations.

He has even stopped her hallucinations – not intentionally or anything, but more than once Ekko's presence seems to have a nullifying impact on Jinx.

Which is odd, right?

One would assume due to their history Ekko would be just as triggering to Jinx as anyone else, if not more so, and yet the opposite seems to be true.

In Jinx's first reunion with Vi, she quickly becomes overwhelmed and has an episode due to a whole combination of factors, but notably because her hallucinations of Mylo and Claggor start attacking her, largely because she's starting to breakdown and is getting overwhelmed (a self-perpetuating cycle).

Jinx can't even begin to calm herself down, in fact she yells at everyone to shut up, because she needs to think.

Then she hears Ekko’s hoverboard and suddenly the hallucinations are completely gone.

Jinx isn’t sure if what she heard was real or not.

Which is a great detail, since it indicates Jinx is aware that the voices she hears aren’t “real," meaning she knows other people can’t hear them too. So, it's rather telling (at least for me) that she asks Vi to confirm if she too heard the hoverboard sound.

It's also impressive Jinx was able to instantly recognize the sound of Ekko's hoverboard, despite her being in the midst of a mental breakdown and unable to think properly.

It’s almost like Jinx’s brain went into fight mode or something, because seemingly all the hallucinations stopped at once because there’s now a much bigger threat Jinx needs to be on guard for – Ekko is heading her way.

I really can't emphasize how much I love that.

While not traditionally romantic, in any sense, this shows the amount of respect Jinx has towards Ekko and the threat he poses to her. He’s someone she actually has to take seriously when fighting.

Which is a bit unique for Jinx.

Throughout S1 we saw Jinx being far more scared of her hallucinations then actual real, physical threats, but in this moment it’s like her brain recognized Ekko as being the far greater threat than her hallucinations.

Which he is - but that’s also true for many of the other things Jinx faces and isn’t scared of.

Jinx does “glitch out” while fighting Ekko and the Firelights in “When These Walls Come Tumbling Down,” - but it’s more of an asset than a problem, as she easily dodges the Gorilla Mask Firelight (at least I think it’s a gorilla).

Then when Ekko disappears, Jinx's psychoses come rushing back; obviously, this has less to do with Ekko himself and everything to do with him taking Vi, but nonetheless, it's still a slight repetition of the pattern that keeps happening between them.

In "The Boy Savior," during Jinx's bridge fight with Ekko, she once again specifically doesn't experience any hallucinations; even though she was just experiencing them not too long ago.

Mylo was this 'demon' on her back that while she could initially argue against, the more upset she became, the bigger his presence was.

She saw Caitlyn as this devil figure, laughing and mocking her and her psychoses even blocked Vi almost entirely from her sight; whether literally or symbolically, Jinx clearly wasn’t fully aware she was shooting at Vi, despite her obviously seeing Vi and then shooting in her direction.

Then Ekko bursts onto the scene and suddenly no more hallucinations. Which is just...

I honestly don’t know what this is. I really don’t.

To be clear, I absolutely love this whole thing despite not knowing what it is exactly, because honestly, I'm just fascinated by this dynamic, because for whatever reason, Jinx isn't triggered by Ekko nor does she hallucinate him.

In S2, Jinx’s hallucinations have significantly decreased, but in “Paint the Town Blue," she's suddenly bombarded with pretty much everyone’s voices because she’s beyond upset and panicking about Isha being taken by the enforcers.

She sees pretty much everyone - Silco, Vi, Mylo, Claggor, Sevika, and Isha.

Jinx seeing Vi, Sevika, and Isha shows us that she can/does hallucinate people who she knows are alive.

In addition, Isha being one of her hallucinations shows us that Jinx doesn’t need to have negative or even complicated feelings towards someone for them to become a part of her psychoses, as Jinx largely thinks/feels positively towards Isha.

Though it should be noted, the hallucination of Isha isn’t acting aggressive towards Jinx, not like the others are.

Finally, Ekko or Vander are the only two she doesn't hallucinate, but we know Jinx has hallucinated Vander in the past, making Ekko the odd one out when it comes to Jinx's hallucinations once again.

Which for the millionth is absolutely fascinating to me.

Because why?

Why doesn't Ekko trigger Jinx? Why isn't he one of her hallucinations? How come he's the only one we've seen having the ability to stop Jinx's hallucinations altogether (even if it's completely unintentional)?

For whatever reason, Jinx’s mind has seemingly categorized Ekko as being different than everyone else and while it’s obviously not this big thing the show brings your attention to, it’s also clearly there, albeit subtly.

And yeah...

I don’t really have much more to say, I just wanted to talk about this interesting aspect of Timebomb before we get to the last and final arc of Arcane.

[livbedum]

i would love to learn more about maybank!reader being kidnapped by rafe like what happened? why’d he do it? when did it happen? how did his family react? did they know? how did jj and the pogues react?

GIVE ME A MINUTE

WE ARE SO FUCKING OVER!

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ summary requested!

warnings 18+ minors dni , profanity , kidnapping / drugging , violence

rafe had the fucking cross. after all that you had gone through in the day with pope nearly dying , crashing kie’s dad’s truck , john b fighting a gator , finding out jj ran into your dad , you were tired. but the night wasn’t over until you got the cross back for pope.

your eyes stayed on sarah and john b , who were clearly having a moment after their somewhat breakup. “you seriously think now is the time to talk about this?” sarah whisper yelled at him , giving him a look that called him stupid.

before jj could stop you , you headed in her direction and yanked her with you. “we have things to do. come on,” you grunted , heading towards tannyhill. when the two of you were far enough away from the boys you looked at sarah with a small smile. “he really does love you. enough to make him stupid,” you chuckled , making your way to the truck.

“i know,” she sighed , peeking into the driver’s seat, “we gotta find the keys though,” she added , getting back to business.

you nodded , not seeing them in the truck like you were hoping. “looks like we have to go inside,” you grimaced , knowing rafe was in there , knowing he would not be happy to see you like he usually was.

sarah looked over her shoulder to the boys quickly updating them that, “we’re going inside! we’ll be right back!” before ushering you into the house with her close behind. you both kept a lookout before moving too far into the foyer. “okay , i have to go find wheezie really quick— she’ll help us distract rafe. you find the keys , okay?”

you watched sarah plot for a moment on the situation before nodding in agreement. “just be safe. don’t want rafe flipping out on you again,” you warned her , holding her hand before letting go and rushing away.

the first obvious place to check was rafe’s room. you had been there so many times , it was easy to avoid the creaks in the floor on the way to his bedroom door. you had been lucky not to see anyone yet. so , quietly your hand twisted at the golden knob before cracking the door open as slow as possible.

after the copious amount of times you snuck into tannyhill , you knew better than to let rafe’s old door creak when you opened it. as soon as the opening was wide enough for you to slip in , you did , closing the door softly behind you , shutting yourself inside.

and that’s when you heard the shower stop running , making you blood run cold. now was not the time to bump into rafe. not when the boys were outside , not when sarah was upstairs , and not while he had the cross you were absolutely trying to steal back from him. that wasn’t an option.

your eyes darted around the room you were so familiar with , catching a glimpse of the nightstand that had the keychain sitting on top of it. you could still hear rafe in his en suite bathroom , so you rushed to grab the keys. they clanked against the wooden stand , causing you to cringe at the disturbance of quiet. “shit,” you cursed as they slipped out of your hand and into the floor , making even more of a ruckus as the bathroom door opened wide.

there was nothing else to do in that moment other than freeze. caught like a deer in headlights , you looked up and saw rafe standing in the doorway , towel around his hips , chest heaving and already looking down at you. you were crouched down , actively reaching for the keys again.

“what are you doing here?” oh. he’s playing it safe. he raised his eyebrows at you as he bent over , slowly grabbing the keys from the floor. he stayed low , looking into your eyes for a moment before rising completely and taking the keys with him to his dresser.

you took a deep breath and stood up , trying to gauge how this was going to go. “sarah was complaining about missing something the other day , so i thought i could come by and grab it,” you lied , watching him as he got dressed, “heard you in the shower and stopped in while i could. missed you,” you added , stepping closer to rafe before reaching out and touching his damp back.

his skin twitched under the contact. “yeah?” he chuckled , turning around with a smile, “came in here just for me?”

“what else?” you asked , matching his smile as you leaned up to press a kiss into his cheek before retreating back a few feet.

“you’re not here because you know i have the cross?” rafe questioned , stepping forward , effectively forcing you back toward his bed, “not here to steal my fucking keys? and take off with the cross that i found!” he shouted , trapping you where you were pressed against the edge of his bed frame.

your eyes betrayed you , flashing a vulnerable fear in them when he yelled. “no , baby,” you shook your head quickly just like your voice, “no , of course not.”

“stop lying to me!” again , rafe’s voice practically rattled the window panes, “you shouldn’t have fucking come here , y/n! you’re so fucking stupid. should’ve just minded your business! constantly forcing my hand to do things i don’t want to do!” he continued getting dressed , throwing a jacket on.

“rafe , you’re scaring me,” you admitted , sinking into the mattress in an attempt to get away from him.

a low chuckle came from his throat as he turned and looked at you. “this isn’t my fault,” he started, “you—“

“rafe! can you come help me pack my bag?”

wheezie.

your chest deflated , finally able to catch a breath when rafe moved his eyes to the door where wheezie was bound to walk through in a moment. “here , baby. you can have the keys to the truck,” rafe smiled , tossing the keys at you before going to the door and stepping into the hallway before wheezie got to you both.

you caught the keys , pushing yourself up off the bed and rushing to the door. the knob giggled in your hand as you tried to open it , but the locked clicked into place on the other side. “have to do everything for you people,” rafe grumbled to his little sister before you could hear his footsteps getting quieter.

“fuck! fuck , fuck , fuck,” you grumbled , hand hitting at the door, “rafe , let me the fuck out right now!” you yelled , banging against the door even harder , keys still jingling in your hand.

“y/n?” sarah’s voice came out worried and rushed through the door, “y/n/n , are you in there?” her hand tapped against the wood on the other side of yours.

“sare? sarah , i can’t get out. you have to pick the lock or something,” you explained , turning to look for something on your side of the door to help.

“okay , it’s okay,” sarah assured you, “i got you.”

you could here some sort of rattling on her end , assuming she found something to jam inside the lock to get you out. “i got the keys!” you smiled with a sniffle , trying to look at the bright side , but you knew it wasn’t long until rafe returned to his room and caught sarah this time.

the lock clicked , sliding out of place before sarah pushed it open. “oh , my god!” she breathed out , yanking you in for a hug before you both ran out of the room, “gimme the keys , and let’s go.”

you tossed her the key chain , following her out of the house and back to the truck. “what’re you doing?” you whispered when sarah kept moving to the back.

“i wanna make sure it’s still in here,” sarah explained , fumbling with the keys before finding one that fit into the lock on the back door.

“okay , well hurry it up before rafe finds both of us,” you urged her , checking over your shoulder for any sign of him. as if your words triggered the reaction , the lock undid itself , and sarah pulled the door open before stopping. “what is it?”

you moved to take a look yourself only to freeze just like sarah did , keeping eye contact with the man you saw in the truck with rafe earlier. he laid lifeless on the ground next to the cross , eyes boring into your own. “what did he do?” you sighed , assuming rafe was the one who killed the man. who else would’ve?

“you guys really shouldn’t have done that.” it was rafe’s voice that came from behind you just before you felt his arms wrap around you and a sharp pinch in the side of your neck. his hands released you , letting you stumble away as your hand reached up to you neck.

“rafe?”

he didn’t bother looking at you , only dropping the now empty syringe to the ground and grabbing sarah. you could only watch as sarah struggled against her brother’s grip , feeling time slow and your heart beat much harder than it was before. “rafe , what are you doing?” she kicked at him , but it wasn’t a fair match.

the last thing you saw was rafe dragging sarah back inside before you stumbled back and tripped. your arms flew back , trying to catch your fall , but there you laid on the ground almost as lifeless as the man in the truck.

you don’t remember anything as you wake up , but the moment your eyes open , you know where you were. the way the mattress sank beneath and around you , the feel of the silk pillow case under your head. you were in rafe’s room. again.

you sat up quickly , looking around to see if sarah was locked in with you , but you were alone. throwing the comforter off of your body , you swung your legs off the edge of the bed. “rafe?” you spoke quietly but loud enough to where he would hear you if he was in the area, “babe? what’s going on?” you called out a little louder but sweeter when you didn’t get a response.

“rafe!” your voice was louder this time , a little angrier when you realized he had left you in the room alone. “rafe cameron , let me out of this room! help! wheezie? rose!” you roared , running to the door to try and open it. you shoved your body against the wood , trying to break it down as if that would ever happen. “rafe!” you called out again far weaker than before.

catching your breath , you moved back to the bed to stabilize yourself. your head was still fuzzy with whatever rafe shot you up with. you sat down , head hanging low as you tried to think everything through.

rafe gave you a shot.

he took sarah inside.

you woke up in his room.

you were alone.

sarah wasn’t with you.

you steadied yourself again before standing up from the bed , moving to the door the bang on it more. “sarah! sarah , where are you?” you shouted , the door muffling your cries, “sare?”

there wasn’t a response. only the quiet hum of the air conditioning filling the heavy space around you. you slid down against the door , falling to the floor in defeat. you couldn’t get out of rafe’s room by yourself last time ; sarah helped you , and where did that get her?

your eyes scanned the room , catching sight of the flowers you had brought rafe not that long ago as an apology for your last fight. you apologized to him , and this is what he does next?

pushing yourself up , you move to the fireplace and grab the vase before launching it at the bedroom door. that would cause concern if your yelling hadn’t already. “rafe , let me out of here before i keep going!” you screamed , grabbing the next thing you could grab and throwing it the same direction as the broken vase and flowers. “we are so fucking over!”

by the time rafe was ushered away from sarah in the basement , you had already destroyed half of his valuables. the laptop he had on his desk , photo frames of his family and even some of you , his cologne bottles in the bathroom , and all of his watches had been thrown across the room as well.

“what the fuck!” rafe barged into the room , slamming the door behind him as he took in the sight of the floor and you, “what the fuck are you doing?” he yelled , grabbing you by the shoulders, “what the actual fuck , y/n?”

“you drugged me!” you argued , shoving at his chest, “you drugged me , rafe! and locked me in your room!” you kept shoving , hitting at him before he had enough and grabbed you. his grip forced you into the bed face down as he held you in place.

“stop fucking yelling , and stop fucking shoving me,” he grunted in your ear , pushing your body down again to get his point across, “calm the fuck down and we’ll talk.”

“get off of me!” you cried , trying to fight him , but his weight alone was enough to keep you down.

“not until you calm down , baby,” he replied, “you keep making me do shit i don’t wanna do. how is this my fault?” he asked you , lifting up enough to let you take a completely breath.

you looked up at him from the bed , eyes wide and tear filled. “you— you killed that guy,” you muttered, “you killed that guy , and you’re going to kill me and sarah , right?” you couldn’t help but let the absolute worst thoughts bubble to the surface.

rafe heard the words you spoke despite being coughed out through your tears , and he softened entirely. “what?” he moved , letting you go and sitting down next to you , but your body couldn’t move. you were frozen on the bed , terrified of what would happen if you tried to run. the only movement you could make was flinching away when rafe’s hand came up to gently move the hair out of your face.

“i didn’t kill anyone.” he said it like a fact , when you knew it wasn’t. peterkin. he killed peterkin , but you knew better than to bring that up ever again. “well , at least not that guy,” he added with a soft laugh, “and i wouldn’t do that to you , y/n. i love you ; don’t you see? i’m doing this all for you!” your eyes followed his movements as he got on his knees by the bed and laid his head by yours to look you in the eye. “we’re going away. i got the cross and sarah and you. okay , we’re leaving tonight. i just gotta take care of some things , but in the meantime you and sarah are going to go with rose and wheezie to the wharf.”

you felt his hand crawl up your back , stopping on your neck and holding you down without any force— just a precaution. “i love you , and i’m sorry , but you gotta come with. cuz i gotta go , and i can’t leave without you,” he continued , and you nodded , going along with whatever he was saying , none of which you understood.

“okay,” you croaked , nodding again.

“just need you to go back to sleep for a bit , ‘kay?” he had tears in his own eyes. he hated seeing you look so afraid of him. that’s the last thing he wanted. he was doing this all for you. he convinced his dad to let you come with because he loved you so much he couldn’t live without you. and you looked at him with fear. “love you , princess,” he whispered , kissing your forehead before standing up and grabbing something from the nightstand you hadn’t seen before.

“wait , rafe. no , no , no. please—“ your pleas were cut off by rafe covering your mouth and inserting another needle into your skin.

“okay , john b , you need to get sarah. me and pope will just y/n/n,” jj planned , huddling up with his boys before they stormed the cameron castle. only before they could break , rafe came waltzing out of the house and into the truck once again before taking off.

pope didn’t hesitate to run after the truck , hiding in the blind spot to hop on the back. jj and john b scrambled in place , not knowing to go after pope or the girls in the house , but the brake lights disappearing made their decision for them. pope could handle his own.

“wait— b , look,” jj hit john b’s arm , pointing at the scene happening in the cameron’s driveway.

rose was busying herself with shoving you in the backseat of the car , not understanding why on earth you were tagging along , but not wanting to push rafe even further tonight. wheezie followed behind , struggling to move sarah’s drugged up body by herself.

as soon as you were properly buckled and locked away in the back , rose moved to help wheezie , lying about how you and sarah wasn’t feeling too good.

“okay , well we gotta get them,” john b stated , already running after the car that had started to pull out of the driveway.

the boys banged on the windows , begging wheezie to unlock the door or for one of you to wake up and do it yourself. Rose just sped off , leaving the boys behind.

“twinkie! get the twinkie! we gotta go!” jj shouted , sprinting off towards the van so they could follow rose’s car across the island.

if you didn’t feel like shit waking up in rafe’s room , you definitely did now. your entire body was sore , head spinning , and for some reason you felt like you were swaying even as you laid down. despite not knowing where you were exactly at this time , you could figure it out if you took a moment to.

the bobbing , the salt air , the horn in the distance.

you were on a fucking boat , but you didn’t get much time to stress about it before you heard people outside your door arguing.

“rafe , you drugged her. that is kidnapping! and you made me an accomplice! for a pogue? who even is this girl?!” rose , if you assumed correctly , was clearly on your side of the kidnapping , not so much for you but for her.

you could practically see rafe roll his eyes from this side of the door. “dad , you said she could come. she’s here. she’s coming.” if the circumstances had been different , your heart would’ve swelled with pride at the fact that rafe was standing up to ward , especially when it came to you.

“not like this , son!” ward’s voice powerful as ever argued.

wait— ward?

you pushed yourself up from the couch you were laid on and moved to the door , stumbling with the waves beneath the ship. cautiously , you turned the handle and surprisingly pushed through. “rafe?”

your voice was softer than the three that continued arguing , but it still pulled them out of their conversation. all eyes were on you instantly. rose was the first to speak up. “y/n , sweetie , why don’t you go lie back down? rafe said you hit your head earlier. you must need rest.” it all sounded sweet in theory , but you knew it was all a story and fake concern.

“my head feels fine,” you snipped quickly , looking to rafe again before moving your eyes to the undead, “was hoping you were actually blown up by that boat , ward.” as much as you hated rafe for what he had done to you in the past however many hours , your blood boiled at the sight of ward. you were there for rafe when he died ; you picked up the pieces ; you encouraged him to keep going. even before his fake death , you had to be there for rafe when ward flipped out on him. every. single. time.

ward only spared you a glance before pointing at rafe and muttering a “clean this shit up , boy,” before walking away with rose.

“why the fuck did you wake up with an attitude?” rafe cursed , ushering you back into the room you were just in.

you crossed your arms and stared at him indifferently. “maybe because you drugged me , rafe. again,” you stated like he was an idiot for asking , despite knowing he hated when people spoke to him like that. you didn’t exactly care about his feelings in the moment. “you have done a lot of things to me that are awful , rafe , but this— wow , this takes the cake.”

“i did what i had to do to get you here,” rafe groaned , stepping towards you with open hands. you backed away , instinctively. “oh , my fucking god! you’re so dramatic , y/n!”

“and you’re psychotic!” you quickly yelled back , hugging yourself with your arms as you kept your distance from him, “where’s sarah? i want sarah.”

rafe sighed , running a hand down is face. “she’s with our family right now. she doesn’t feel good.”

“i want to see her.”

“she’s busy,” rafe simply denied your request, “do you want a water , baby?” you flinched as tried to step closer to you again. “y/n , seriously , knock it off,” he grunted , getting more irritated by your lack of willingness to just fucking comply with what’s going on, “everything’s going to be fine. i have it all handled. i just needed to get you here.”

you shook your head , slowly crossing the room. “no. i don’t want to be here. i want to go home , rafe. i want to call jj. please,” you asked him , tears filling your eyes at the beginning of accepting that you were in a situation you most likely weren’t getting out of, “rafe , look at what you’ve done,” you started, “look what you did to me.”

rafe didn’t listen though. he turned his head , not wanting to see the truth. he got you here. that’s what mattered. “you can call jj when we dock,” he muttered , trying to reach his hand out to you again before dropping it to his side, “but you’re not leaving until then.”

“we are so fucking over , rafe.” it was said definitively.

and it was like you were living in a loop when rafe slipped out the door and closed it behind him , when you heard the sound of a lock being put in place , holding you in the room you woke up in. your eyes stared blankly at the red , painted metal before you fell back into the couch. “i’m so fucked.”

at least that’s what it felt like.

a/n holy shit this took a minute and it isn’t proofed or anything so ignore any typos

taglist @maybankslover @annatartastic @maroonz @ravenmedows @yootvi @icaqttt @inlovewithmorales @spoiledbratspostsblog @heartsforandrewgarfield @stoned-writer

[purinfelix]

hiii, i love your writing so freaking much, can i please ask for a Franco fic inspired on Gold rush by taylor swift? he just literally gave me that vibe and I NEED to read something like that, please and thank you <3

everybody wants you ‧₊˚✩ - franco colapinto

summary: when your best friend since birth finally joins you in formula one, it's safe to say that you're excited - though when it becomes apparent that he's the more favoured one, you start to doubt things, including your feelings w/c: 2.8k

a/n: oh anon i love this idea but also this was my first time listening to this song so i hope i interpreted it the way you hoped and did it service !!! <333

You hated how cliche it was. 

The two of you were childhood best friends, together for as long as you could remember. You always credited yourself for getting into karting first and Franco, always eager to stay by your side, followed suit. The track only gave the two of you another domain to be inseparable in, with every race ending with both of you on the podium - and it never mattered who was first, only that you were both there, together. 

There was an unspoken understanding in your hometown that the two of you were never to be separated, which you initially revelled in, but the older you got the more you felt yourself developing a feeling towards your friend you couldn’t quite explain. Somewhere in the realm of jealousy, just beyond admiration and reaching just short of a childhood crush.

It came in waves, flowing whenever you were reminded of just how different the two of you were, and how inadequate you felt next to him - with his charismatic personality and curly brown hair that always fell perfectly into place, always drawing more and more people towards him. The more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself wondering why he had chosen you of all people to stick so close by, even if he never gave you a reason to doubt it. 

And so when you decided to move away to pursue racing, it wasn’t shocking that Franco would too. The two of you set off, after many tearful goodbyes to your friends and family back home, to brace the world, hand in hand. 

You stayed racing for the same teams, always getting promoted or signed at the exact same time - almost as if the universe had heard the same unspoken understanding of your town, and knew that you worked best together. And whilst it helped to see each other during practices, debriefs, and even wearing the same uniforms, it was far from the only thing that kept your friendship strong. 

Away from almost everything else the two of you knew, you clung to each other tightly and came to know absolutely everything about each other through it. Hushed midnight conversations, early morning snack runs, and even visiting landmarks as you grew and travelled countries - all the while with Franco by your side. 

Strangely enough, it never did occur to you to see the boy beside you as more than just a friend - no matter how much the other girls you befriended seemed to think otherwise. Whenever they would sneakily whisper to you, asking whether you were sure the two of you were just friends you would always roll your eyes shooting back something along the lines of Ew? Franco? No, we’ve known each other forever - which typically made them happy to pursue him themselves, even if they strangely never succeeded. 

All this came to a screeching halt in the summer of your second year in Formula Two, however, when you were met with a contract deal from Alpine Racing. A racing seat for one. 

“You’re taking it right?” his voice is excited as the two of you sit in the stuffy hostel room you’re sharing with about eight other strangers, all too broke or cheap to pay for anything better. Franco was the first you had told, before your coach, before your family, before anyone. 

“I don’t know Franco, I mean-“ 

“What? Why wouldn’t you?” 

You chew your bottom lip as you fiddle with the bedsheet below you, not able to look him in the eye. “It means we won’t get to race together you know,” you sigh. 

“Well you don’t know that, maybe you race alone for a year but once I make it into F1 we’ll be side by side again! Plus you’re stupid if you think I won’t be visiting every one of your races anyway.” 

You watch his green eyes scan your expression, searching for a clue to how you’re feeling. 

“It’s just a big step, I don’t know if I’m ready for it.” 

“I think you’re more than ready,” he insists, though you don’t feel convinced. 

When you finally speak again your voice is tiny, “I’m scared, Franco.” 

In that moment, he gives you a sympathetic look before pulling you into a tight hug and even though neither of you spoke about it again that night, you knew exactly what it meant - I know you’re scared, but I’m here for you. 

And you aren’t ashamed of the fact that it was his reaction alone that pushed you to make the decision to take up the deal, and you couldn’t have been happier that you did. At least, that’s how you felt for the initial months of your contract which was filled with cocktail parties, race suit fittings and media interviews. And despite what you had expected, and as selfish as it might’ve been, having Franco not by your side for once felt like a breath of fresh air you hadn’t known you needed - it filled you with a lone sense of pride, having ‘made it’ without someone being right there for you to be compared to. 

It was perhaps this sense of pride that helped you manage to score points on your debut. You still remember running up to where Franco was waiting for you in the garage, the biggest smile on both of your faces as you jumped into his arms - and it felt, just for a moment, like this euphoria might’ve been what you had spent your whole life waiting for. 

But perhaps you had spoken too soon, since your progress saw a steep decline causing you to lose not only the chances to score points and impress your team, but also the confidence you had spent so long working on. 

And one night, just when it seemed like you were at your lowest, after a weekend full of DNFs and near-crashes - the most unexpected thing happened. A singular text from Franco, halfway across the world, excitedly explaining how he was going to be filling a position in Formula One, in a different team to you. 

There wasn’t a single word to describe the millions of emotions you felt rushing through you in that moment. For one, surprise at the mid-season switch as well as a certain sort of selfish disappointment that you would no longer be the only one in the highest form of the sport you both loved. But above all else, a thrumming excitement about being with your best friend once more - to see him at the paddock, catch up with him during sessions and not have to trek all the way into grandstands just to see his face. 

It didn’t take you long to realise though, that you were far from the only one who felt this way. It was almost like the moment Franco stepped foot on the paddock, donning the blue of Williams for his first race weekend, the world fell in love with him. Online, conversations about him blew up to the point where you couldn’t go moments without being bombarded by clips of his interviews or edits of him. It was strange, one part of you felt proud that the world was finally waking up to the treasure that was your best friend, but another felt the strong urge to hide him away, for him to be all yours. 

A small part of you had expected this, having known Franco and his personality since before you could put it into words - but what you hadn't expected was for him to also back it up with amazing performances. Now, it was him who was scoring points and impressing everyone - and you who was left to do little more other than celebrate with him, for your own results paled in comparison. And once news got out about you being childhood friends, through a couple of grainy leaked photos of the two of you smiling proudly in your tiny karts, the comparisons started up again. 

It was like salt in the wound, agonisingly so - seeing your best friend adored him doing well in the sport you got into first, while you were left to, weekend after weekend, fail to make it into points range. And to make matters worse, the media frenzy that cropped up around Franco did little other than make you come to a realisation you might've spent your whole life running from - that you were jealous, not of Franco, but of those who loved him. That maybe your desire to constantly stick by his side was more than just a childish habit, and that your jealousy of his achievements was just a reminder that you’d never be more than just a friend, one that was always a little behind, a little worse. 

Despite your best efforts, the two of you began to drift apart, each achievement he got driving a deeper and deeper wedge between you. It hurt a lot, race weekends beginning to bleed into each other - a plain blur of failed races, celebrations from other teams, and Franco's adoring fans.

It all seemed to come to a head one weekend, a minor crash in an earlier lap winding you up in the Alpine garage - sweaty, irritated and extremely exhausted. Yet you continued to watch the race, not so much for anyone else, but more so that you could keep a close eye on the blurry blue car, and its driver.

And before you knew it you were watching it cross the finish line in third, Franco’s first podium - right in front of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure why, but your first instinct was to hastily get up from the fold-out chair you were sitting on and rush away to your driver's room, like a child throwing an immature tantrum. You knew Franco well enough to know he’d come looking for you but knew yourself enough just as well to know you couldn’t face him right now. With everything that had been going on, with the constant stream of less-than-kind comments you were getting online and the extreme dip in your performance, the last thing you wanted was to be reminded of your inadequacy. It was extremely selfish, sure, but you convinced yourself that you were actually doing Franco a favour since you knew your acting skills were too poor to convincingly put on a show as he celebrated right in front of you. You always had been a faster runner than him, at least, that’s what years of playground tag had told you. 

But it had been a while since then and before you could make it to your room you heard an all-too-familiar voice call from behind you. 

“Hey!” 

“Not now Franco,” you huff, so close to the door of your room that you’ve got one hand on its handle already. 

“What? C’mon, I just got a podium and that’s all you have to say?” You pause at the handle, the hurt tone in his voice pulling at your heartstrings. 

“Yeah, I saw, good job but I just can’t right now.” 

“Can’t what? You’re joking, right?” His voice rises in volume a little, and he sounds in disbelief - you’re glad the garages are mostly empty so that no one can see the scene he’s making. 

“No, I’m not,” you shoot back firmly. You’re still facing away from him, arm hanging limp from the door handle - you can’t remember the last time you felt this defeated, this tired. 

“Seriously, what is going on with you lately? It’s like, you were so excited for us to race together but now we barely talk even though we see each other every day.” 

“Franco,” you say, quietly. 

“We’ve known each other forever but this feels like the first time where I truly have no clue what is going on in your head, why don’t you ever talk to me anymore? You don’t think I don’t notice you avoiding me?” 

“Franco, please.” You feel tears pricking up at the corners of your eyes, and it doesn’t help how accusatory he sounds. 

“Please, what?” 

“Please, just go celebrate.” 

“No! If you think I’m just going to leave now without you, you’re seriously ridiculous. I mean, this is what we always dreamed of, isn’t it?” 

At that, you turn around to face him - looking him in the eyes for the first time in what feels like months. You watch his brows unfurrow immediately as his expression softens at the sight of you, tears welling up in your eyes which are surrounded by dark circles, marks left from your many sleepless nights. It’s clear that he notices how small you look as well as you hunch into yourself, barely having the energy to stand up straight. 

“Woah, hey,” he says, his tone gentle now. 

“Don’t do this Franco, don’t talk to me like we’re still children,” you say, instinctively defensive. 

“Aren’t we?” 

You let out a laugh, soft yet cruel as you struggle to hold in your tears, “Everything’s different now, isn’t it? When was the last time we were on a podium together or even spoke face to face like this.” 

“What are you even saying?” You feel a pang of pain in your heart at the look in his eyes, a little anger mixed with disbelief. 

“I’m saying, that maybe being friends isn’t going to work if we’re racing against each other anymore. Have you seen the way I get compared to you relentlessly? Everyone loves you, everyone wants you, and I’m just, there! Do you have any idea what that’s like? To have no one backing you?”  

“You’re my best friend, I’m right here, backing you!” 

“Franco,” you say, just above a whisper. 

There’s a moment of silence, and you can see Franco working up the courage to say something, his hands fiddling with the fireproof mask he’s been holding this whole time. You feel a couple of tears finally make their way down your cheeks and you do your best to wipe them away, eager to not embarrass yourself in front of him anymore. 

“I love you.” He finally says. 

“Don’t say that, please, don’t say that.” You’re about to turn away, ready to just shut yourself in your room. 

“No, like, I love you.” You hear him take a couple steps closer to you, to the point where he’s right behind you. 

“You don’t mean that,” you sigh. 

“I do,” he says, barely above a whisper, “I have, for years.” 

You pause, silently turning around to face him, and it feels like the breath has been knocked out of you. He looks at you, nervously waiting for a response though trying to put on a face that tells you how serious he is about what he’s just said. 

“And I know that you probably don’t feel the same but I need you to know this because I can’t keep going on like this, barely seeing or talking to you and-” he begins to ramble, and all you do is let out a relieved sigh as you lean forward to rest your head on his chest in silence. However, it’s clear this confuses him as he stops talking immediately. 

“I love you too, Franco.” 

“Wh- really?” 

“Yes,” you say, the smile audible in your voice. 

“Like, seriously?” 

“As serious as a heart attack.” You lean back against the door with a smile of relief, or as much a smile as you can muster up figuring that you feel like you’re about to collapse right there and then. 

“I’d kiss you but,” he gestures to his face and hair which is drenched in sweat. 

“Oh shut up and come here,” you say quietly, looping your arms around his neck as you pull him close to you. When your lips meet his arms wrap around your waist as he pushes you up against the door of your room, and even though you couldn’t care less, you’re once again glad there’s no one here to see the two of you. No cameras, no fans, no other drivers - just the two of you, and the years of history between you. 

When you part, his face is flushed as he offers you a shy smile, his arms still around your waist. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.” 

“I could say the same for you.” 

“So, what now?” he asks. 

“You go celebrate your first podium,” you reply excitedly. 

“We,” he corrects, finally unlooping his arms to take you by the hand and lead you out of the garage - and whilst your beaming smiles might’ve seemed to many the results of his podium, the two of you knew they were part of something much, much bigger. 

taglist: @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[darlingletters]

moth to flame lh44

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

in which y/n y/l/n has a new boyfriend and lewis hamilton can’t help but want to remind her how he knows her better.

warnings: cheating, kissing, intimate touching (like cheek touching and stuff), allusions to the devil’s tango, lemme know if there’s any that I missed please.

an: so I haven’t posted in a while but I am back!! hope everyone is doing well. this is my first time writing something like this so if anyone has any tips on how to make it better please let me know. also sorry for any bad grammar/spelling.

should I make a part 2?

anyway this is based on the song moth to flame by the weeknd & swedish house mafia!! absolutely love this song and honestly I was listening to it the other day and got the idea to write to this. I don’t know if anyone else has done, but if so lemme know.

driver list navigation

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it was 3:45 in the morning.

y/n was supposed be asleep but instead she was wide awake sitting on the sofa on the phone talking to her ex boyfriend whilst her current one slept in the next room.

“come y/n/n, you don’t wanna be with this guy. he doesn’t know you like I do baby.” lewis’ voice almost pleads as he talks.

“this needs to stop. I’ve moved on. you should have too.” she says simply, picking at the blanket that covered her.

“please baby-”

“you have to stop calling me that.” she cuts him off “I ain’t your baby anymore. I stopped being that a long time ago.”

“y/n, he doesn’t know what you need. doesn’t know what to give you. I do.” his pleading continues.

she stays silent. she doesn’t even know how to respond to that. it was true. her boyfriend hadn’t been able to please her in the two years they’d been together. and although she’d never admit it out loud, it was driving her insane.

“I bet he even knows he can’t please you because he knows he can never give you what I gave you.” he says smugly. “because he knows, he can never be better than me.”

“arrogance doesn’t suit you.” she mutters loud enough for him to hear.

“I am not being arrogant. I am being honest.” he responds quickly.

“what do you want from me lewis?” she asks slightly frustrated.

“you. I want you. I want you to admit you want me too.” he states like it’s obvious

“I don’t want you.” lies. but he didn’t need to know that.

“just come cover.” he says simply.

“I can’t.” she whispers.

“why? cause your with him?” he says annoyed, “just leave now. you’ll be back in the morning. I just need to see you baby.” he pleads.

“lewis-”

“come on y/n. just lemme be near you. touch you. that’s all i need.” lewis says almost desperately, hints of desire in his words.

“one hour. I’ll come to you.” she says after a moment of silence.

although she should of felt guilty or even hesitated to answer, she didn’t. she wanted to see lewis. needed to see him. lewis was her first love, probably the only man she would ever truly love.

“I’ll send you the address.” he says, his voice completely lustful as he ends the call and sends the address of a hotel.

- 20 minutes later -

she knocks on his door. her mind filled with guilt and hesitation as she waited for the door to open. however, once the door opened and she caught sight of lewis, those thoughts had quietened.

“lewis.” she says breathily.

in response, lewis smirks and makes space for her to enter.

“you said you wanted to see me, you’ve seen me.” she whispers as she enters the room.

“I also said I wanted to touch you and I haven’t done that yet.” he flirts as he shuts the door and locks it.

“lewis-” she mutters as she closes her eyes.

“come on baby, just let me touch you.” he responds, taking off her jacket as he stands behind her.

“I have a boyfriend.” she says firmly, not turning to face him.

“then why are here? hm?” he whispers in her ear as he stays behind her.

“I- I don’t know.” she mutters.

“you still want me.” he responds as she shakes her head. “yes you do, you still love me y/n. I know you do baby, don’t deny it.” he says turning her around to face him only to see her eyes closed.

they stay in silence for a few moments as lewis looks at her, assessing every detail on her face. memorising her features like he used to when they once shared a bed.

“open your eyes.” he says softly. “lemme see those gorgeous eyes I’ve missed to much.” he speaks again stroking her cheek.

she takes a deep breath as she keeps her eyes closed, determined not to fall for him all over again.

“come on baby, just look at me.” he whispers, brushing his lips against her cheek. “just need you to look at me again.” he repeats, kissing her cheek.

“lewis-” she starts but was quickly interrupted when she felt a kiss on her jaw forcing her to open her eyes.

the sight before her made her wish she had never answered his phone call.

there he was cradling her face like she was a precious piece of art as he looked down at her with pure affection and warmth at finally seeing her looking at him.

“there we go baby, there’s those pretty eyes.” he whispers as he rubs his thumb on her cheek. “god i missed you.” he mutters as he leans his forehead against hers.

“I shouldn’t be doing this.” she mumbles as she shakes her head, pulling away from him and forming distance making his smile drop while he reaches out for her.

“leave that guy. come back to me.” he states firmly, his expression almost desperate.

“we are toxic lewis. we fought all the time, we barely saw each other expect to use each other in bed.” she argues back, putting her hands on her hips.

“it’s been three years y/n. we’ve changed. I’ve changed. that guy doesn’t deserve you.” he says simply taking a step forward towards her which makes her step back.

“and you think you deserve me?” she scoffs.

“no I don’t deserve you. no one fucking deserves you y/n/n. but I love you. more then that guy can.” he takes a step forward. she takes a step back. “I care for you more then him.” step forward. step back. “I touch you better then he does.” he whispers, taking a final step forward until she’s pressed up against the wall. “and you and I both know i can please you better then he does.” he finishes looking at her as she leans back against the wall looking up at him with wide eyes as she breaths heavily.

“lew-” she mumbles out as licks her lips and looks at his lips before quickly looking at his eyes.

“let me kiss you.” he whispers as he leans his head forward and places his hand on her cheek. “please baby let me kiss you.” he pleads, their lips inches away.

she pauses as she keeps her arms planted to her side as she looks at him trying to pull away from him. she looks away from his eyes and back to lips.

“fuck it.” she mutters as she runs her fingers though his hair and kisses him making him immediately return it with a soft groan.

he moves his hands into her hair, “god I missed you.” he says against her lips before going straight back to kissing her.

however, as they kissed, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of regret wash over her as she thought back to her boyfriend peacefully sleeping in their bed whilst she made out with her ex boyfriend.

────────────────────────────

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.

[princesskenny1998]

Hey! ^.^

I was wondering if you would write about a muggleborn fem!Ravenclaw!reader with Draco based on the Taylor Swift song, “But Daddy I Love Him”?

I thought it would be fun and I think Draco is a perfect fit for the main man of this song? Possibly because muggle parents heard about the powerful and slightly dangerous Malfoys?

Thank you if you do, and take care! 🤍

Hello <3 So, this is absolutely not my music bubble but I think I managed, hope you like it!

Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x muggleborn!f!ravenclaw!reader ~ "But Daddy, I love him!"

The rain drizzled steadily against the windowpane, casting shadows across your open book, but you couldn’t focus on the text. The words blurred together, and you turned another page without reading it, your thoughts drifting back to the same place they always did when you were alone—back to Draco.

It had been a stormy and unexpected beginning, the kind of whirlwind that your parents would call a “bad influence” if they only knew half the truth. You were a Muggleborn Ravenclaw—a daughter of a family who, before Hogwarts, had only known the mundane world of academics and structured expectations. Your parents were good people, but they were grounded in a strict, almost suffocating sense of normalcy.

To them, the Wizarding World was a barely-understood mystery, something that they could accept on a superficial level but never truly comprehend. And when they heard whispers of the Malfoy family—of their history, their blood ties to the dark, ancient magic that had once gripped the wizarding world in fear—their acceptance turned to suspicion. They warned you, tried to cage you in with rules and boundaries even though they couldn’t set foot in the world you were growing into. They didn’t understand.

But you did. Or at least, you understood that Draco Malfoy, despite everything they’d heard, had become more than just the boy from the infamous family. He was chaos, he was raw emotion and jagged edges, and he made you feel alive in a way that studying, excelling, and being the perfect daughter never could.

The first time you kissed, it had been under the shadow of the Forbidden Forest.

It was your fifth year, and you’d stumbled across him in a rare, vulnerable moment, leaning against the base of a massive oak tree with his hair disheveled and a tired, haunted look in his eyes. You hadn’t meant to stay, but something in the way he looked at you—like you were the last person in the world he wanted to see, but also the only one he needed—kept your feet planted firmly in the cool, dewy grass. You didn’t know who moved first, but the moment his lips brushed yours, it was like a spark ignited, and suddenly you were drowning in a fire you didn’t want to escape.

From there, it was a flurry of stolen moments and whispered secrets, hands brushing under the table in the library, secret smiles shared across the Great Hall when no one else was looking. The world outside didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, and he wasn’t the cold, arrogant Slytherin heir—he was just Draco, and you were his girl.

It wasn’t long before you fell in love with his contradictions. The way he could be cruel and indifferent to everyone else, but soft and careful when it came to you. How he kissed you like he was starving, like he needed you more than he needed air. You knew he had his demons, and that he kept secrets even from you, but you didn’t care. He was wild, unpredictable, and imperfect, and you didn’t want anyone else.

But things changed before your seventh year, when the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for years finally came to a head. You hadn't been able to return to Hogwarts, with your blood status it was prohibited and way too dangerous. Instead you had stayed hidden, blending in in the muggle world until the fateful day Draco had found you and told you that Voldemort was finally gone.

The war was over, but the scars remained, and Draco was still struggling to shed the weight of his family’s dark legacy. Your parents had heard too much, asked too many questions, and when they learned that the boy you were sneaking off to see was a Malfoy, they had reacted with horror.

You remembered that conversation vividly. Your father’s face had turned a deep, angry red as he slammed the Daily Prophet down on the kitchen table, a recent article about the Malfoy trial spread across the pages. “He’s dangerous,” your father had said, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “He and his family—they were on the wrong side. They were Death Eaters. How can you even think of being with him?”

Your mother, usually the more lenient of the two, had been equally resolute, her eyes hard and disapproving. “You can’t see him anymore,” she had declared. “We’ve let you live in that magical world, but this is too much. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

They couldn’t understand. They didn’t know the way he held you when you were falling apart, or how he’d open up in rare, unguarded moments when he thought no one could see him. They hadn’t seen the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his hands shook when he thought you were angry at him. They only knew his last name, and the darkness that it carried, and they refused to look past it.

But you had never been one to follow the rules you thought didn't make sense.

So you continued to sneak away, seeing Draco in secret, the thrill of the forbidden heightening every touch, every stolen kiss. It was reckless, you knew, and every time you returned home, your parents’ questions grew more pointed, their suspicion turning into bitter arguments. They couldn’t understand why you refused to talk about your life, why you looked away when they mentioned the Malfoys, why you were no longer the dutiful, predictable daughter they had raised.

You lied to them, skillfully and effortlessly, until the lies became second nature. You buried the truth so deeply that even you began to lose track of where the deception ended and the reality began. They tried to pull you back, to anchor you to the safe, Muggle life they had planned, but Hogwarts had changed you. Draco had changed you.

Back at school, the tension only grew, a knot tightening around your heart. You and Draco were spiraling, caught in a cycle of passionate fights and desperate reconciliations. He was different this year—quieter, more withdrawn, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sometimes you’d catch glimpses of the darkness in his gaze, and it would scare you, but you never turned away. You were in too deep, and you had never been very good at letting go of the things you loved.

One rainy evening in mid-October, you sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room, staring into the fire, your parents’ words echoing in your mind. They had written you another letter—one of many—begging you to come home for good, to leave the “dangerous and untrustworthy” boy who had stolen your heart. You’d torn the letter to pieces and thrown it into the fire, watching the edges curl and blacken until nothing remained but ashes.

But you couldn’t burn away the doubts. They lingered, coiling in the back of your mind like smoke, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Maybe they’re right,” Draco said one night, his voice low and rough.

You were sitting together by the Black Lake, hidden under the cover of the trees, his arms wrapped around you as the moon cast silver light over the rippling water. He looked down at you, his eyes shadowed and weary, and you saw the fear there—the fear that he would lose you, that he was dragging you down into the darkness that had swallowed his family whole.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be with me,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe you deserve better.”

You pulled back, your heart breaking at the emptiness in his eyes. “Don’t say that,” you said fiercely, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re not dangerous. You’re not your family, Draco. I don’t care what they say—I’m not leaving you.”

He stared at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment you thought he was going to argue. But then his expression crumpled, and he kissed you—hard and desperate, like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. You kissed him back, pouring all of your defiance and love into that single moment, feeling the rush of rebellion and freedom wash over you like a tidal wave.

The storm finally broke over Christmas break.

You had come home for the holidays, reluctantly answering your parents’ demands that you spend time with them, but every conversation had been tense and stilted. They pressed you about school, about Draco, about the things you wouldn’t tell them, and you had retreated behind walls of silence and half-truths, your patience fraying with every passing day.

It was on Christmas Eve that the argument exploded, a blistering confrontation that left you breathless and furious. Your father had found one of the letters Draco had written to you—tucked away in your room, a place you thought was safe—and he had read every word, his face growing redder and redder with each line.

“He’s using you!” your father had shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “Can’t you see that? He’s dragging you down, pulling you into his mess—”

“But, Daddy, I love him!” you had shouted back, your own voice hoarse with rage. “You don’t know him! You’ve never even met him, and you never will, because you don’t want to understand. You just want me to be the person you think I should be!”

Your mother had tried to step in, her face pale and drawn, but you had pushed past her, running out of the house and into the cold, biting winter night. You ran until your lungs burned, until your tears froze on your cheeks, and when you stopped, it was only because you had nowhere else to go.

That was when you made your choice.

You didn’t return home after Christmas. Instead, you sent an owl to Hogwarts, arranging to stay at the castle over the break, and you disappeared from your parents lives. The letters they sent went unanswered, unopened, left to pile up in a dusty corner of your dormitory where you pretended they didn’t exist. You were done playing the perfect daughter. You were done hiding who you were.

The spring of your seventh year was a blur of emotions and defiance, of laughter and tears and all the messy, beautiful chaos that defined your relationship with Draco. You were reckless together, daring the world to stop you, and every time you thought you were about to fall apart, he was there to catch you.

The day of your graduation Draco had pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe, then you had felt something inside you settle. This was your choice, your life, and you would fight for it until the end.

Years later, the scandal had faded, and the once judgmental eyes of your friends and families had turned to other stories. Your parents, though still wary, had begun to accept your decision, realizing that you were determined to build a life that they couldn’t dictate with or without them.

There were scars left behind, but they no longer hurt the way they once did. Draco was still unpredictable, still complicated and infuriating, but he was yours, and the life you had built together was more than you ever dreamed it could be.

The past, with all its secrets and shadows, no longer mattered.

All that mattered was that you had chosen him, and you would never look back.

[shrinkthisviolet]

im curious. why do you ship flashvibe. i see them as just best 100% platonic bros and i cant imagine them romantic

Ooh this would be a better question for @alittleflashvibe (who can absolutely feel free to hop in with reblogs or comments or whatever, really 👀) but I will take a crack at it myself:

So first of all, let me preface by saying, none of this is going to be me going “see?? No platonic explanation!!” because that’s a) canonically false and b) nonsense. Barrisco, for all that I do ship them, is canonically a friendship, and I value that highly. You can absolutely choose to interpret this all as solely platonic, and that’s totally fine! Their relationship is strong either way, and it’s not ��better” or “worse” from either perspective. So just keep that in mind.

Second of all, I’ll assume you’re someone who’s open to shipping Barry with guys (otherwise this discussion is sorta pointless 😅).

Third of all, this will include comparisons to Westallen because...duh, they're canonically romantic, and I need a point of comparison. I love both ships, mind you, this is simply for academic purposes.

With all that said, let’s begin! And since this got long, the rest is below the cut :) enjoy!

Heart Eyes:

Okay so we know Barry does this a lot, right? Almost exclusively with Iris (his canon best-friend-who-he-has-a-crush-on -> girlfriend/fiancée -> wife)…and with Cisco. Cisco, too, does this a lot. Observe, if you will:

This post by the amazing @icedteaandoldlace (who can also hop in if so inclined), compares the Westallen proposal and the "the unvierse wants us to be bros" speech. No, seriously. Look at how alike the scenes are. Barry's heart eyes in those scenes...IMMACULATE! He doesn't give those heart eyes to anyone else

Bonus: notice Cisco’s reactions when we do see them. Earnestly hanging on Barry’s words…and Barry’s encouragement gets him to smile 🥰 just like Iris whenever Barry encourages her (see: the s4 scene when he encourages her as Team Leader and she smiles sincerely through her tears)!

Also...this parallel: "You've always been my hero" ~Barry to Cisco as he's walking toward sort-of-death + "The Flash may be the city's hero, but you, Barry Allen, you're my hero." ~Iris to Barry in her vows

Physical Touch:

Physical touch is canonically the way Barry shows his affection/love (“we all know touch is your love language” is a canon line of dialogue). He does it with Joe, Henry, Iris…and a lot with Cisco, who constantly touches/hugs Barry too:

Something interesting about that last one…I feel like I’ve seen that one somewhere before:

(I made that gif :D)

Oh and uh...remember when I said we'd get back to talking about Cisco doing something risky to save his life? Let's talk about that for a second.

Let's talk about how Iris and Cisco react to losing/the prospect of losing Barry post-s3/s4 and s6:

Post-s3:

Iris: Quits her job, becomes Team Leader in Barry's absence so she can use her skills to help out, wanting to honor Barry's words ("keep growing, keep loving, keep running, for me") and knowing Cisco can't lead the Team alone because he's strung out. Argues with Cisco about getting Barry back, because she is understandably worried that it'll make things worse, cost them someone else...and/or Barry will either already be dead, or will die as a result of their actions (i.e. she fears losing Barry all over again)

Cisco: Hyperfocuses on saving Barry ("quits his job", so to speak, because he's not being Team Leader as Barry intended), uses his skills to help out by building a Quark sphere to save Barry, goes forward with his plan despite Iris's misgivings so he can honor Barry's words ("he also said that everyone would look to me after he was gone. So look to me."). In the aftermath, modifies the suit extensively because he fears losing Barry all over again)

s6:

Iris: Is distraught and horrified at how easily Barry accepts his death, tries to talk him out of it. She takes up the charge of recruiting Ryan Choi, Paragon of Humanity, empathizes with him about his fear, draws on their similarities to convince him.

(She does not pull risky manuevers here, since it's E90 Barry who saves our Barry, but she did back in s3, when she shot Savitar, a speedster and her almost-killer (and also a future version of Barry), to save Barry's life)

Cisco: Makes a risky call to try and save Barry's life, defends himself fiercely when Barry gets upset about it, is distraught and horrified at how easily Barry accepts his death

Bonus:

it's relief in Barry's eyes there, and worry. Barry was mad at Cisco earlier in the episode, but...in this moment, none of that matters. Cisco's doing something risky to save his life (as he canonically does often) and Barry's relieved but also terrified it might go sour. And...well, you saw from one of the gifs earlier how enthusiastic he was once this rescue succeeded - he beamed up at him, all "you've always been my hero" (canon quote) and took his hand to be helped up, just like in a fairytale.

Just a couple of guys nerding out together 🥰

Barry using a shared memory to prove he's not an imposter 👀

Iris and Cisco teaming up to pull Barry out of the Speed Force! Note that Cisco almost succeeds at this 👀 he only fails because Barry is not yet ready to leave - by the time Iris tries, Barry is ready. I've always thought Cisco could've pulled Barry out of the Speed Force too, lightning-rod style.

This post compares some Westallen and Barrisco moments! Specifically, some Iris and Cisco reactions to Barry (very similar, you'll note!)

And there you go! As mentioned, none of this is me going "AHA see, Barrisco is definitely romantic", but moreso pointing out why I ship them via their parallels to Westallen (which is widely considered one of the It Ships of DC in general, especially for Barry). Hopefully this changed your mind, and if not, hopefully you enjoyed the ride anyway!

(and I meant what I said: @alittleflashvibe and @icedteaandoldlace, feel free to weigh in. Same for any other Barrisco shippers! I'm sure I didn't get everything, though I did try to hit the major highlights)

[dissapointu]

I'm dying here, 4 tests, course, my house is a mess and I just wanted to sleep 12 hours straight.

Can I request for Arcane X characters scary!reader I think they would be a big person with a look at me and I'll break your neck vibe, but they are sweet with their partners.

Drink water, stay well 👋🏻

I totally get the feeling of being overwhelmed, but take a deep breath! You’ve got this. I’ll take your request and make it worth your while with some headcanons. These characters would absolutely be intrigued by an intimidating, “look at me and I’ll break your neck” type of reader who is sweet with them.

————————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx’s initial reaction is pure curiosity mixed with excitement. She’s not intimidated easily, so when she first meets you, she’s all over the place—sizing you up with a wild grin. The cold stare you give anyone who dares challenge you only fuels her chaos-loving spirit.

“Oh, I like this one!” Jinx cackles, bouncing around you with pure glee. “You could totally crush someone with just a look!” Her eyes gleam as she watches you—she admires your confidence.

When you’re sweet to her, though, Jinx melts. Your soft side balances out the sharp edges of your persona, and she clings to you like a koala. “You’re so soft with me, though,” she says with a grin, “but the second someone tries to mess with us… BAM! I’ll be ready to blow something up!”

Vi

Vi respects strength, and she can immediately tell you have it. The way you carry yourself, the air around you—it speaks volumes. While most people might shrink back, Vi doesn’t flinch. She’s more intrigued by the fact that you’re a force to be reckoned with, yet you’re still affectionate with her.

When you show her your softer side, she feels an intense mix of pride and adoration. “I gotta admit, babe,” she says, flashing a grin, “seeing you toss someone into the nearest wall makes me a little jealous… but I love how gentle you are with me.”

Vi would always stand by your side in a fight, but she’ll be the first to keep you grounded and remind you that you don’t have to use your strength all the time. She’s happy to see the layers beneath your intimidating exterior.

Sevika

Sevika sees herself in you—a strong, no-nonsense type who doesn’t take crap from anyone. She’s genuinely impressed by your intimidating aura, and she can’t help but feel a little protective. She might be a bit reserved, but she always notices the way people act around you.

“Not many can make people shut up with a glance,” she muses, her eyes narrowing with admiration. When you’re sweet with her, Sevika’s face softens, and she’ll often pull you close, knowing no one else will get close to you as easily. “Don’t let your guard down, babe,” she’ll whisper, “But don’t worry—I’ll take care of you.”

She knows what you’re capable of, and she finds comfort in the fact that you’re with her—someone who’s just as tough as you are.

Silco

Silco is drawn to power, and he immediately recognizes the authority you carry. There’s something magnetic about you—people step aside when you walk through a room, and Silco is no exception. He knows your power can match his, and he admires that.

But when you show him your softer, loving side, it takes him by surprise. Silco is used to cold, calculated relationships, but you bring something else—a warmth he didn’t expect. “So you have this… other side,” he muses, his gaze intense. “I’d say I’m the only one who gets to see it, but I don’t want to share you with anyone.”

When you’re around him, Silco sees you as more than just a weapon. You’re someone who complements his ambitions and understands his dark side—but also reminds him of the humanity he’s lost.

Vander

Vander would be a little more cautious when he first meets you. He knows strength, and he knows how intimidating you are, but he’s always been a protector, so he’d approach you with care. Still, he can see your sweet nature beneath the surface, especially when you’re with him.

Vander would soften when you show him affection, seeing that you’re not all about intimidation. “You’ve got this fierce side, I see that,” he’d say with a chuckle, pulling you close. “But with me? You’re just my baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Vander would always remind you to keep your temper in check, especially around others, but he loves the balance you bring to the relationship.

Ekko

Ekko respects strength, but he’s the type to see through tough exteriors. He’d be a little intimidated at first, but once he realizes you have a gentle side when you’re with him, he’s putty in your hands.

“You’re like a force of nature, but when it’s just us…” he’d say, his voice teasing. “I’m your soft spot, huh?”

He would love how protective you are over him and always make sure you’re not just scaring people away with your strength. He sees that vulnerability in you and always offers his support. “You don’t have to scare everyone off, y’know,” Ekko would chuckle, “But I can’t lie—I love how you just walk in like you own the place.”

Jayce

Jayce has never been intimidated by anyone, but when he sees you command attention with just your presence, he’s intrigued. He might try to act like he’s unaffected, but there’s a clear glimmer of admiration in his eyes.

“You don’t have to use that aura on me,” Jayce would say with a smirk, feeling the weight of your power. But when you’re affectionate with him, he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good thing I get to see you when you’re not throwing people across the room.”

Jayce loves your strength and the security you bring to the relationship, and he secretly loves how you take charge in situations. He’s all about teamwork, and your balance of power and tenderness is exactly what he needs.

Viktor

Viktor might be a little shy when he first meets you, sensing the overwhelming presence you give off. But as he gets to know you, he becomes fascinated by your strength and how you seem to effortlessly control a room.

When you’re gentle with him, it blows his mind. “You’re the most intimidating person I’ve met…” he’d say, adjusting his glasses nervously, “But with me, you’re kind. I don’t understand how, but… I think I like it.”

Viktor loves how you balance your fierce exterior with a soft side that’s only for him. He admires your intelligence and strength, and it makes him feel safe and cherished.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is not easily intimidated, but when she sees how effortlessly people back away when you enter the room, she’s impressed. However, she’s not afraid to challenge you—she respects your strength, but she doesn’t let it overpower her.

“You’ve got quite the reputation,” Caitlyn would say with a smile. “But when you’re with me, no one else matters, right?”

She’ll show you that she’s not intimidated by your power, but she’ll also soften when she sees the gentle side you reserve for her. “You don’t have to act tough with me. I know what you’re really like,” she’ll say, snuggling into your side.

Mel Medarda

Mel doesn’t get intimidated easily, but there’s something about your commanding presence that fascinates her. She loves the power you exude, but she’ll also quickly recognize your soft side, especially when you’re with her.

“You make the whole room stand still when you walk in,” Mel would say, impressed. “It’s captivating… but I’m the one who gets to see the real you.”

Mel loves how you balance the tough exterior with your caring, affectionate nature. She feels like she’s the only one who gets to witness your gentleness, and she’ll savor every moment.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa respects strength more than anything, and she’s immediately drawn to your power. She recognizes that you could crush anyone who stands in your way, but she’s not intimidated—rather, she’s intrigued.

“You’re a force to be reckoned with,” Ambessa would say, her voice low and admiring. “But I’m the one who gets to keep you, aren’t I?”

She’d always keep you close, making sure you’re hers. Ambessa would love how you soften in her presence, and she’d hold onto you with pride.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie might be a little intimidated at first, but as she gets to know you, she’s in awe of how you can be both powerful and gentle. Your presence commands attention, but when you’re with her, you’re warm and kind.

“You’re so strong,” Maddie would say, her voice filled with admiration. “But you never make me feel small. How do you do it?”

She’d absolutely adore your sweet side, and she’d love being the one to see you at your most vulnerable.

Lest

Lest isn’t someone who gets intimidated by anyone, but when she sees how others react to your mere presence, she’s amused. Still, she knows how to keep you close and keep others in line.

“I’m not worried about your strength,” Lest would say with a smirk. “But you’ve got me wrapped around your finger with that sweetness of yours.”

She’d love how you balance the toughness with tenderness, and she’d always make sure to keep you close and remind you that she’s the only one who gets your sweet side.

[5-puthyyy]

You're Looking A Little Green

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 5k

Summary:

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

Rio's drawn to the powerful Magick of the hex and finds Agatha flirting with a powerful witch that isn't her. I cannot be blamed for the filth that follows

WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT, CHOKING + BLOODPLAY + BREATHPLAY

Rio Vidal did not feel. She simply came into existence, filled with a singular purpose to collect the lost souls of the dead. Death was not made to feel. But, Gods, if anyone were to challenge the very rules of the universe, to disrupt the natural order of all things? Of course it would be Agatha Harkness. Who else?

She has to call it love because Agatha’s love is all she has ever known. It is cruel and gentle, angry and serene, it is wicked and sinister and everything in between. And Rio could not get enough of it, enough of her torturous little witch. It was one thing to use the Darkhold and hide from Death. Besides, she enjoyed the chase, the hunt, being the predator running after its prey. But what she could not stand was this.

Rio was drawn to the raw, chaotic magic of this place – what kind of all-powerful Green Witch would she be if she could not sense it? – and was unsurprised to see Agatha had found her way here too. Her clever girl could always sniff out power, always greedily eager to take as much as she could.

“Ridiculous,” Rio scoffs quietly, watching through the window of Wanda’s living room. She could do nothing but watch, the anger in her belly brewing into something even darker, dangerous, twisted and ugly. Jealousy.

That is one of the many emotions she had not felt until Agatha and she can wholeheartedly say it is the absolute worst one. Her black heart can stand heartache, can stand betrayal, can stand the endless torture of Agatha’s glare of hatred because those feelings had to come from somewhere. It has been a form of comfort to know after all these centuries she can still affect her witch, still make her feel, just as she makes Rio feel.

Jealousy is ugly. It makes her feel ugly, inside. It takes a blow at her security and makes her question herself, whether she is good enough for Agatha, whether the witch has decided to move on from her to someone solid, something real, something tangible and within her grasp. It is what she deserves, after all. Despite the playfulness, the chase, the books of history the two have together, Rio could never shake off the belief that Agatha will never truly want her for all she is. She cannot. Agatha hates that she wants Death, and that hatred will fester until there is nothing left. No love, no hate, just indifference.

“Do you really?” Rio recalls the first time Agatha told her how she felt for her, the two of them having floated around each other for weeks, a youthful, anxious mess, “Do you really love me, Agatha? Me?” Rio asked, voice shaking, hands trembling as she held Agatha’s blushing cheeks.

The witch sighed, a sound deep and upsetting that struck Rio uncomfortably. “I fear I do.” 

Fear. She feared it, hated it, did not want to feel what she felt. And Rio? Rio had not wanted a single thing since the beginning of time until she looked into Agatha’s eyes and decided she could not go on without having her. She loved her, wanted to be consumed by her, felt nothing but her.

It wasn’t until…until Nicky that it went terribly wrong and Rio saw their relationship for what it was. Agatha could not force her feelings to disappear, so she did, and she made it perfectly clear that she did not want Rio. But with their feud and many fights that inevitably led to Agatha’s teeth biting her lip until they tasted like copper, Rio realised that Agatha needed her. And Agatha hated Rio for it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rio is pulled out of her dark thoughts by an angry voice she cannot help but smile widely at.

“Hello, my love,” She greets Agatha smoothly, huffing as the angry woman grabs her by the arm and guides her across the lawn, around another house, and then into the quiet privacy of her four walls, “Hmm,” Rio takes in a deep breath of relief, her bones feeling more at ease in Agatha’s home. She can feel the thrum of her lover’s Magick in here, “I like it here. It tastes like you.”

Agatha grunts angrily, shoving a fist against Rio’s chest as the Green Witch licks at the air with wild and wide eyes. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you? It is so on-brand for you to show up here and ruin everything for me.”

A sinister smirk splits across Death’s face. “Now why would I sit back and let you have all the fun?”

Agatha grunts yet again, this time stepping towards Death with a raised pointer finger. “This is more than just fun, Vidal, this could be–The power she has is–You know what she is. You can sense her Magick. This could change everything for me,” Agatha stutters her way through the sentence, clearly taking a more calculated route against this witch. Rio can see how serious this is to her, and she honestly had no plans to ruin it. All she wanted was to see her.

With soft eyes, Rio steps forward, her fingers daring to brush down Agatha’s jaw. “You are all I sense. Your Magick is all I ever want to taste.”

Agatha sucks in a sharp breath at the confession, never quiet growing used to Rio’s blunt nature. There are never any lies here, never a nervous thought that blocks the truth from tumbling out of her mouth. The honesty was always refreshing. But in moments like this, all it does is make Agatha want to kiss her until Death herserlf needs a breath of air to stay alive.

“Not now, Vidal,” Agatha replies coldly, forcing her eyes away from Rio’s impossibly sad ones. The power those eyes have had over her…

“Why don’t you want me?” Rio asks with a frown, crossing her arms over her chest, in typical Rio-fasion.

Agatha can’t help but scoff. “What is wrong with you?”

Rio’s face suddenly hardens in realisation, forcing distance between them as she steps back towards the door. “Do you want her? Is that it?” Rio doesn’t know why she asked. The very idea of answer that says to ‘yes’ has her first imagining she has insides and those insides are twisting like snakes.

“I want her power.”

At that, Rio growls a terrifying noise, deep and dark. “You want her! I saw the way you looked at her in there, Agatha,” She accuses, unable to shift the images out of her head. She watched them through the window: she cannot forget Agatha’s easy smile, so carefree and playful; the light touch of Wanda’s hand brushing Agatha’s hand; the blush tinting Agatha’s cheek.

Her witch suddenly smiles knowingly, eyes low as she tilts her head. “Oh, honey…” she mumbles in fake sympathy, holding Rio’s chin in her hand, “You’re looking a little green,” she spits out, her hold tightening.

Rio gulps, always being one to submit to that storm in Agatha’s deep blue eyes. “Well, I am the Green Witch,” she mutters rather weakly, huffing at the flash of amusement reflecting back at her.

“You are.” 

Rio straightens her back. “I am.”

“You’re Death.”

She glares darkly. “I am.”

“Her power is no match for yours.”

Rio growls, teeth snapping at the woman still holding her chin like a pup. “It’s not.”

Agatha raises a brow “No?” she says infantalisingly. 

“No being is more powerful than me,” Rio declares, flipping the two of them around.

Agatha gasps as her back is pushed against the front door. “So act like it,” she demands, raising a leg until her thigh is pressed against Rio’s, “Sulking at me, pouting like a sad puppy…” Agatha pouts mockingly, cackling at Rio’s huff and glare, “Here I was thinking you couldn’t get more pathetic chasing me around when I clearly don’t want to be found.”

“Oh yeah?” Rio’s eyes flick to the basement where she knows Ralph’s dead body is, “Explain him,” she asks with a smirk. This has always been their game. Kill, collect, fuck, over and over again, because that is the only line of intimacy Agatha is comfortable with, all Rio can take.

“I kill because I want to, not because I want you.”

Rio can see the quiver of her lip, the twitch of her brow. It’s subtle but she knows her witch by now. “Hmm…” she hums before leaning in to breath against Agatha’s ear, “Okay, Agatha. Have it your way. Be in control.” 

Agatha wavers at this, suddenly shoving Rio back. “I am,” she defends herself, marching off to the kitchen.

Rio follows, keeping enough distance to make Agatha uncomfortable. She knows how much her witch hates being observed. “Sure you are.”

Agatha spills the water she tries to pour into a glass, grunting in frustration as she slams her fist against the countertop. “Are you that jealous?” She snaps her head to Rio, turning on the attack, “God, you’re so desperate you need to tell yourself this lie to fuel that delusion in your head. I do not kill for you, Rio. I have not killed for you in deca–”

“Do you remember the first time?” Rio interrupts her casually, leaning against the fridge door, “You were so nervous to present me with that old witch’s soul. A gift, you said, remember? For me…” Rio’s words slip out like honey, sultry and smooth, “Courting Lady Death herself, you said.”

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing over her chest. “I say a lot of things.”

“And not a single lie. Not to me,” Rio manages to lower her voice even more, almost down to a whisper. The husk is something Agatha always struggled to resist, but she does her very best to deflect.

“How would you know?” Agatha snaps defensively but Rio sees right through her.

“Hmm,” she hummed, stepping close enough for her nose to brush against the back of Agatha’s pale neck, “Tell me.”

Agatha sucks in a breath. “Tell you what?” she whispers back, nails digging into her palms as a last resort, screaming inwardly to keep her hands to herself.

Rio waits a moment, sniffing deeply then sighing out and nuzzling her nose to Agatha’s skin. Gods, she missed this scent of dark Magick, of lavender and honey, of maple trees and something so distinctly Agatha. “Tell me you want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tightens, though her head movement opens up more of her neck for Rio. “I don’t.”

The Green Witch chuckles, her soft lips brushing against Agatha’s sensitive skin. “Ah, ah, ah…what did I just say? No lies,” Rio’s hand digs into the curve of Agatha’s hip, “Tell me you want me…and not her.”

At those words, Agatha allows one moment. Just one moment of vulnerability where she holds Rio’s freezing cheek in her hand, lets Death lean into her touch. She sheds a cold layer away from her harsh eyes, the last cloud of the storm fading to bring forth the Sun. Rio takes it all in, soaks as much of Agatha as she can before the inevitable goodbye.

“Show me,” Agatha says instead, breaking the silence as she pulls Rio’s face close to hers, “Show me why I should want you.”

Rio has never been one to back down from a challenge; a soft smirk stretches her lips before she finally attaches their lips together. She can count the exact amount of hours, weeks, years since their last kiss. Agatha was in her leather phase then, her hair curled with a rebellious purple streak. Each first kiss ignites that same fire within her, just like the first time they ever kissed all those centuries ago. 

“I will never tire of kiss–”

Agatha rolls her eyes at Rio’s interruption. “None of that today. You want to be jealous? Show me just how possessive you can get.”

Rio frowns at this, brushing her nose against Agatha’s softly. She misses her dearly, so intensely that her hollow chest aches from being far from her.

Agatha can see the conflict written over Rio’s face and knows the one thing she can say to flip that switch. With a wicked smirk, she shoves Rio’s chest again hard enough for her to stumble back.

“If you can’t, I’m sure Wanda wouldn’t mind helping her neighbo–”

Before she could even finish, Rio’s hand gripped her neck and shoved her against the fridge. A filthy moan escaped her throat before she could control it, which would typically please Rio but the Green Witch could see nothing but red at this moment. 

“Say her name again, Agatha. Go on.” Rio plays with her prey, fingers tightening their grip as her other hand dug painfully into Agatha’s side.

“Mmm, why, I’m tempted, so tempted,” the witch teases, chuckling darkly with purple swirls in her eyes, still trying to take back a little control, “If you don’t fuck me hard enough, I may even think about her.”

Rio slams her lips to Agatha’s in a brutal, angry kiss. She shoves her invading tongue into the witch’s gasping mouth with no warning, attacking, claiming, swiping every surface she can. Every action screams possessiveness; she needs Agatha to know who she belongs to, who she will always belong to.

Nails scratch along Agatha’s stomach as she pulls her shirt up, lifting until it’s covering her face. Before Agatha can take it off, Rio’s lips are already attacking her new skin. She mouths at the top of her full breasts still covered by a forest-green lacy bra.

“Wow,” Rio suddenly chuckles, pulling the strap with her teeth until it snaps back against Agatha’s reddening skin, “You wore this for me. You knew I was coming the moment you killed that man, didn’t you?”

Agatha huffs, finally dragging her shirt over her head, her hair a dishevelled nest which makes her look even more alluring. “Oh, you wish,” she denies, but her eyes say otherwise, refusing to hold contact with Rio’s for more than a second.

The Green Witch remains consistent in her gaze, twisting her head to catch Agatha out in her movements. “You expect me to believe you just happened to be wearing my favourite colour?”

“It happens to be Wan–” Agatha’s words are swallowed up by Rio’s tongue again, this time paired with hands that rip her bra to the ground and immediately squeeze as if claiming her new territory. Agatha knows Rio will take her right then and there if she wanted to, but she was still wary of this sitcom reality and how much of this Wanda can really see. She did place her runes very carefully but that witch’s power is unimaginable chaos. “Maybe we should–”

“Shut up,” Rio’s tone drips with authority as she pinches Agatha’s hard bud. Her face flickers to her true form for a moment, the dangerous look being enough to send a quick heat between Agatha’s legs.

Agatha utters no other word, just a frustrated groan at herself for reacting this way to Rio. It’s a hopeless feeling knowing there was nothing that made her weak but her.

“Spread them.”

Agatha clenches her jaw as she reluctantly spreads her legs apart. Rio sends a pleased smirk her way, those chocolate eyes darkened with desire.

“Good girl.”

Agatha bites her bottom lip hard to suppress the downright pathetic moan, but a whine slips out widening Rio’s already cocky smile. The embarrassed witch turns her head away but Rio forces it back with a flick of her fingers, black and green tendrils of Magick finally making an appearance.

Runes won’t work on her. Agatha found that one out the hard way a few decades ago, a rookie mistake which ended with Agatha tied in the air, high and not-so-dry. But that’s a story for another time.

Agatha arches her back into the touch, making an executive decision that if she is to play with Rio, she will be the one manipulating Death into doing what she wants. “I’m always good for you, sweetheart. Why don’t you feel how good I am?” Agatha husks seductively, biting her bottom lip in the way she knows drives Rio to madness.

Death pants at the shift, feeling Agatha spread her legs further apart, begging for her touch. “Wicked…” Rio mumbles as she buries her face in Agatha’s chest right between her breasts. The woman is quick to push them together, using herself to gently push Rio over the edge of control. “Fuck, you’re sexy,” Rio moans into her chest, licking, biting, sucking as she claims her. It only takes a moment for her hand to leave Agatha’s hip and slither between her legs. She teases over the lace, both of them sighing at the first touch.

“That’s right, baby, feel me, take me,” Agatha chants and pants, covering Rio’s hand with one of hers. The latter presses her thumb to Agatha’s clit, leaning back up to swallow her gasp. They kiss languidly as she lazily trails her thumb up and down, feeling Agatha get wetter by the second as their tongues glide together. Gods, she loves kissing this woman. Kissing Agatha is the closest Rio will ever get to Heaven.

Soon enough, though, Agatha’s patience runs thin and she shoves her own panties to the side. Rio feels that slickness on her fingers immediately, growling into Agatha’s lips. She bites at her wicked witch’s bottom lip once in punishment before descending to her knees.

Agatha tries to resist making a comment, really, she uses all her willpower. But Rio looks up at her with such adoration, eyes as wide as a puppy’s. It’s so pathetically cute.

“I knew you’d end up on your knees for me. You always do,” she tries to soften the blow with a gentle finger brushing the hair out of Rio’s eyes, but it does nothing to soothe the now angry witch. Suddenly, Agatha’s hands fly up, wrists bound against the fridge with Magick. “Come on, play fair.”

“You want to talk about fair?” Rio huffs, shaking her head as she decides not to tread on this topic. Instead, she focuses on the glistening mess in front of her. She drags Agatha’s panties to the floor, practically salivating by the time she’s done. Though she wants nothing more than to have that delicate slick on her tongue, she needs to punish Agatha, needs to make her want her, make her beg.

Rio starts slow with a wet, delicate kiss to the inside of Agatha’s thigh. It immediately quivers at the touch, Agatha attempting to spread her legs further to entice the tortuous witch into giving her what she wants. But Rio remains strong, grounding herself with the taste of Agatha’s slick that dripped down to her thighs. She glides her tongue over, moaning at the taste, circling her skin, painting out her name over and over again. The moment Agatha growls in frustration, Rio’s there to bite down hard enough to bruise, silencing the witch. It’s a warning, a shout to be patient or else.

“Will you be good for me?” Rio asks as she looks up, her eyes dilated and high on the power she has over Agatha.

“I thought you called me a good girl,” Agatha rebuttals, voice trembling slightly though still filled with sass.

Rio pretends to contemplate for a moment. “I suppose I did. But I think a real good girl would beg. Wouldn’t you agree, sweetheart?”

Agatha doesn’t bother hiding her reaction to this, bursting out into laughter at the audacity. Her? Beg? She hasn’t begged for Rio since before– “No.”

Rio lifts a brow, fingers tightening around Agatha’s thigh. “No?” Agatha stands firm in her answer, a seriousness in her eyes that Rio can’t help but shake her head at. Her stubborn little witch. “Fine, Agatha. Have it your way.”

The first swipe of her tongue transports Agatha to another fucking universe. Blue eyes immediately disappear into her skull; her heart catches up in her throat at the sensation; her legs lose all control and she’s sure she’d be on the ground if it weren’t for the Magick binding her wrists. She has always been loud, proudly so, and this is no different. Screw Wanda. Let her hear.

“Fuck, yes, fucking finally,” she whines, moans filthily, rolling her hips to the rhythm Rio sets.

Fuck control, Rio thinks. Fuck it all; this is real power. Having Agatha like this, hearing her like this, being the one to string these sounds out of her. This is fucking power.

She slides her tongue expertly through Agatha’s folds, circling her clit but refusing to touch it yet. She teases as much as she can, feeling gush after gush of wetness and bringing her tongue back down to lick up as much as she can. Her tongue traces along Agatha’s entrance, teasing for a moment, waiting, waiting…

“Rio,”

Her name. Her actual name, not Vidal, not Death, not sweetheart or baby or whatever diversion. Rio.

Without a second to waste, she thrusts her tongue up, immediately moaning at the throb of Agatha’s tight, wet walls.

“Rio, fuck, oh fuck, don’t you dare stop,” her goddess of a witch moans above her and Rio looks up with eyes filled with worship. What she would do to this woman, for this woman, what she had already done. She will spend eternity wanting nothing but her.

Rio thrusts, twists, curls her tongue until Agatha is writhing, rolling her hips, begging with her body. She waits until that moment, until she tightens just so, before Rio pulls back completely.

Agatha immediately groans at the feeling, almost predicting it. Her groan twists into a frustrated, angry scream, face and cheeks red, eyes wild as she glares down. “Fuck you!”

Rio’s eyes darken as she slowly ascends. “Watch your fucking tongue,” she warns, voice low, controlling.

Agatha leans towards the danger. “Why don’t you make me?”

“I think you’ll beg me to make you.”

Agatha laughs at this again, her need to retain control and protect her ego too high. “This again? I’d sooner let you leave me like this than beg for you to–” Her words catch in her throat as soon as she feels something familiar pressed against her thigh. Agatha doesn’t need to look down to know what it is.

“Cat got your tongue?” Rio smirks that fucking smirk, victory already in her eyes. “You know which one it is?”

Agatha gulps, her teeth pressed together hard. Of fucking course she knew which one it was. It’s the only one Rio would use. Dark green, deliciously thick, just long enough to hit that one spot that sends Agatha over Mount Everest, and, the most important part…it’s enchanted.

Rio can feel every little touch.

“You sure you don’t want to beg?” Rio tempts her again, this time adjusting between Agatha’s legs so the length of her strap presses against Agatha’s slick heat. They both grunt at the feeling, their mouths an inch apart.

Agatha breathes in a laugh. “You’ll be the one begging in a minute, hun.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rio pants, starting a slow grind. It was a calculated risk, snapping her for this strap to appear. It drove the both of them mad, Rio already feeling her grip over her self-control loosening. Agatha felt so fucking warm, so wet. Rio’s mind is filled with memories of her heat, nights spent pressed so close together she’s shocked their Magick never somehow merged them into one. She craves that closeness with her again.

Agatha twists her hips as subtly as she can, trying to get it to slip in as Rio distracts herself with dirty thoughts. “Don’t you want to feel me, baby? Don’t you miss it? Miss…me?”

Rio groans, the sound a mix of pain, want, sadness, joy, everything. Agatha makes her feel it all. She pulls back suddenly, eyes wildly pulsing with desire as she looks over Agatha’s marked body.

Agatha recognises that look of possession. “That’s right, sweetheart. If you want me to be yours, all you have to do is take me.”

Rio only had one card left up her sleeve, and it better fucking work because Agatha uses her words to play Rio like a fucking fiddle. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it, and what it was going to get her. Using her bodily strength this time, Rio unbinds Agatha’s wrists and spins her around. Within seconds, the witch is bent over the kitchen island, back arched, legs spread obediently for Rio.

“Shit.”

Rio smirks, immediately dropping a hand to spank a pale cheek. Agatha moans loud and open, greedily pushing her ass back for more. Rio gives her nothing, though, only scraping her nails along pale skin.

“Rio,” Agatha warns through gritted teeth, gasping as Rio teases her with the head of her strap. It presses against her entrance, pushing that tiny bit through before pulling back completely. “Rio!” she scolds, feeling desperation crawl up her throat. She wants to be filled by her so badly, craves it, misses it dearly. It’s always been her darkest, deepest desire, to be taken and used, treated like meat and bones by Lady Death herself. And that fucking witch knows it.

“You know what to say, Agatha. Good girls get what they want.”

Rio teases her strap again, grinding her teeth together to hold back her own moans at the feeling of that wet slick dripping over her head. It’s so simple for Agatha to say one word, one fucking word just so Rio could sink into that heat and never fucking leave. Gods, she loves her stubborn witch.

“Fuck, okay, just fucking fuck me! I want you to fuck me!” Agatha yells out, fingers gripping the edge of the island, turning whiter by the second.

With that, Rio thrusts hard, deep, whimpering at the sudden tightness, moaning with her lover as she screams in pleasure at the invasion. But she stills after that.

Agatha feels so fucking full, hasn’t felt this full in years; it’s exhilarating, it’s endless pleasure and pressure, it’s that maddening stretch that has her panting like she’s in heat. But Rio won’t fucking move. “Move. Fuck, Rio, you can move, baby,” Agatha says, reassures, letting Rio know she doesn’t need a moment of adjustment.

But the Green Witch has outdone herself today with her tricks and self-control. “I don’t think I heard you say it yet,” she husks, chuckling wickedly into Agatha’s ear as she presses up against her. Her hips are too close to Agatha’s for the witch’s hip movements to do anything and it has her almost sobbing in frustration.

“Rio,” she pleads, her tone sounding far less controlled, the sass almost gone completely. 

“You have two choices, my love,” Rio risks her choice of words, knowing so when Agatha freezes completely, “You can either say the magic word now, or I can fuck you until you’re screaming and leave you just as you’re about to–”

“Please,” Agatha breathes out, so soft Rio almost misses it. Rio freezes, not expecting Agatha to give in that easily. But Agatha takes her lack of response as a want for more, and she can’t risk the second option. She can’t. “Rio, please, I…I need you, my love.”

My love. Love, love, love…

Rio breathes out shakily, failing at shoving the feeling inside her chest away. She embraces it instead, gripping Agatha’s hips with strong, controlling hands. “I got you,” she whispers soothingly, pulling her hips back, groaning at the delicious drag of those tight, wet walls. “I got you, baby.”

Agatha won’t sob, she won’t, but she’ll shake, and she’ll whimper and whine, and she’ll bite down on her hand so fucking hard she draws blood. She lets her body go, trusting Rio’s hands to hold her, to control her hips, her pleasure. It feels like she’s floating as Rio rolls her hips over and over again, moaning behind her, whispering soft praises. It must be Magick, she thinks, to feel this way. To feel so free yet controlled at once.

She moans greedily at every thrust, begging for Rio to go, “Harder, fuck, please,” and “Faster, just like that, fuck, please don’t stop,” as she’s pushed closer and closer to the edge. She was close enough with Rio’s tongue inside, but this? Being filled and stretched to her limits, and hearing Rio’s loud, untamed moans of pleasure behind her knowing she can feel every inch of Agatha wrapped around her soul? Nothing could beat this feeling.

“Tell me,” Rio suddenly demands, her mouth to Agatha’s ear, panting filthily, biting on her earlobe. “Fucking tell me, Agatha,” she growls into her ear, teeth sinking into her neck, tongue licking the blood, lips sucking until she’s marked bright and red. 

Without another thought in her head, Agatha pants as she’s pushed back and forth by Rio’s hardening thrusts. “I want you.”

“Again,” Rio demands, groaning as Agatha’s walls tighten at the authority in her tone.

She’s weightless, her mind knowing nothing but Rio, her body feeling nothing but Rio; Rio’s strap buried deep inside her, stretching her walls so painfully good; Rio’s nipples, hard as they brush against her back; Rio’s hand suddenly creeping up and around, gripping her throat giving her that thrill of danger. All she can taste is Rio on her tongue, Rio’s Magick, Rio’s hot breath against her neck, can smell the scent of death and soil, fresh grass and the smallest hint of jasmine. She knows with every bone in her body that she belongs to Rio and she always will. She cannot escape Death.

“I want you,” she pants, her tone leaving no room for doubt, “I want you, Rio, I want you, only you, always you, I want–” She’s unsure if she can’t speak because of the intense wave of pleasure that hits her when Rio’s other hand sneaks between her legs and thumbs at her clit, or if the pressure of Rio’s grip around her back took her breath away. All she knows is Rio.

The ringing in her ear doesn’t cease as her eyes roll to the back of her head, body shaking, trembling as Rio ignores her, continues thrusting as hard and fast she can. In Agatha’s haze of pleasure, she realises Rio’s using her to chase her own high and that only pushes Agatha over the edge again. She can’t stop falling, can’t stop the guttural, almost animalistic moans from echoing in the space. The only thing that grounds her is Rio’s safe hands, Rio’s erratic, high moans as she thrusts faster and faster until her hips still, pressed to the brim inside Agatha’s pulsing walls. 

Her eyes close at some point. She’s still in the same position, Rio’s still buried deep inside her. But she’s holding her, still, face pressed into the back of her neck as her body shakes gently. She’s crying, Agatha realises. And she blames this moment of vulnerability for the tight, sad feeling in her chest at the sound. She knows how badly her love wants to be with her, knows how much it is killing her to be apart, knows of the torturous pain.

Agatha sighs, pressing her cheek to the cold marble of the island. 

Death comes for us all. 

Well…she comes for Agatha the most.

masterlist + guidelines

this is so filthy im embarassed anyway

[cr33pz-mck3nna]

hi! could you please write jason the toymaker, laughing jack, and candypop for the yandere prompt?:3

YANDERE HEADCANONS WITH THE CARVINAL TRIO

Ft: My vers of Jason the Toymaker, Laughing Jack and Candy Pop(credits for the images to the OPs on Pinterest)

Jason the Toymaker

Yandere level/intensity: 8/10

Love language: Giving gifts, physical touch, words of affirmation(receiving)

• Once this man lays his eyes on you it's over, they're never leaving you again

• He will disregard his job for you, has gotten in trouble with his fellow crps for this

• Once he has you he is never letting you leave, will whine if you have to go shopping and finds a reason to hate every last one of your friends

• If Slender was to find out about you and order your death his genuine response would be "Pardon me Slenderman sir..but I'd like to see you try."

• Started making you your favorite kind of toy(doll or stuffie) immediately after seeing you, would send them to you in a cliche "secret admirer" way, calls those toys in particular your children

• He would bring you around certain crps but would not bring you to live in the mansion, you would live in his workshop with him and his toys

• He would not trust you around the other two in the carnival trio, especially Jack, if you're ever around while they also are you are ALWAYS holding his hand, he trusts Candy around you if anything but Jack is a 100% no like..he'll never leave you alone with Candy, or anyone really, but he will not even allow you in the same building as Jack

• This man is possibly worse than Tobias when it comes to his self esteem and needs a constant stream of verbal and physical love to not loose his fucking mind due to his own thoughts

• His favorite time? Cuddle time of course! This man LOVES his physical attention, he's very anti touch with every person around him except for you so be prepared to have absolutely no personal space anymore, the bathroom will become your sanctuary-

• If you ever tried to leave him he would not be the type to kill you, not his precious, never his precious, he WOULD break your legs The Promised Neverland style tho and drag you home, best case scenario you learn to not run again, you heal and live happily ever after(kinda), worst case scenario though...he paralyzes you and takes you to Puppeteer for help turning you into a living doll, his now favorite doll.

Laughing Jack

Yandere level/intensity: 10/10

Love language: Violence, Physical touch, Giving/Receiving gifts, Nicknames

• You were his victim, of course, Jack ain't one of the crps like Jason or a proxy who could've met you on casual terms y'know-

• If you were unphased by the deaths of your friends then that probably would've made him intruiged with you, if you were hiding your fear though...that would've made him even more intruiged

• I do hope you are not an empath because this man LOVES to see you cry, one way or another, finds your angry tears the most beautiful though

• Can be very rough with his physical attention, I'm not sure if you cried if that would make the situation better or worse for yourself

• As much as he loves seeing you cry if it's not caused by him WHOOO BOY whoever caused it better start saying their prayers

• If Slender found out about you and ordered your death, again, I see this man CACKLING HYSTERICALLY at Slender and anyone else around, like they actually have a fucking chance-

• Likes bringing you around the other crps because he knows none of them are dumb enough(except Jeff or BEN) to touch HIS human, will definitely keep you at the mansion because I don't see him liking the victims at his carnival seeing his posessionhis weakness

• Loves bringing you around Jason and Candy just to flaunt you like a prized dog he also loves having someone around while he calls the two colorful men all sorts of snide gay comments

• His idea of gifts are either candy, toys or human/animal body parts so..it's like a game of russian roulette every time he gives you a "gift", he is also the type that if he doesn't like your gift he will tell you to your face but secretly keep it forever

• Probably has a nickname for you like "flea" or "maggot" that he'll call you when around people but he definitely loves calling you "sweetheart"

• Now if you tried to leave then all bets are off. Of course, all humans are the same after all! He would immediately kill you, he spared you when he should've killed you alongside your friends and still you do this to him!? He would never speak of you again and his hatred for humans might be even worse this time

Candy Pop

Yandere level/intensity 7/10

Love language: Quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation(giving), nicknames

• When he first saw you...nobody else did after that day- Absolutely is the impulsive Yandere who takes you immediately

• Absolutely a lovebomber but doesn't do it out of malice, honestly I don't think he knew he was yandere until you explained to him what that even was-

• A constant flow of emotional and physical attention attention from him, if you came from a very emotionally connected family then you immediately feel at home but if you had a more distant family who wasn't very loving then I wouldn't be surprised if early on you broke down in tears

• Probably the most loving yandere out of the three of them, will most probably accidentally give you stockholm and have you convinced it's a healthy relationship until you see Jeffrey walking by and get a MASSIVE reality check

• If Slender finds out about you and orders your death this man can and will drop every form of a life he has built with the crps and go off the grid with you, he is NOT taking any chances with your mortal life

• Will most definitely keep you in his dream dimension most of the time, if you want to go back to the human world he'll see if one of the boss's cabins are available

• He only brings you around Jason and Jack because he considers them his best "friends", if you felt uncomfortable around any one of themJack he would stop bringing you around them but if you took to one of them he would bring that one to you to hang out, so bring them to his dream dimension more

• Most favorite nicknames would probably be "sugar", "gumdrop", "honey bun" and "my love"

• This man does not trust ANYONE around you, somehow has more trust issues then Jason, though he'll allow people you trust around you

• Definitely the "pleaser" type of yandere, is never happy unless you are happy and will do anything to make you that way, even if it means making himself uncomfortable, anything for you

• Definitely has taken a kid or two as his newest "present" for you, will reluctantly return them if you ask him to, what can I say he loves playing house with you, gives him the closest feeling to what he thinks might be humanity

• This man has nightmares about loosing you and his dreams aren't much better as they're always filled with "What if's" about your relationship if he was human like you or you a monster like him

• If you tried to leave this could go one of two ways, he could finally snap and drag you back into his dream dimension, never letting you see the human world again and never letting you out of his sight, you don't have the right to do that anymore after breaking his trust, or he could let you go but believe me that till the day you die you'll never truly be alone again, he'll always be watching his love.

AHHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST! This was SO FUN to write and I hope y'all enjoy(and I hope this was sufficient enough to your request anon)! Sorry if any one of them is a little shorter than the others, I just wrote as much I could think of so I hope it's enough. Let me know if you want any more(or full fics, or a poly version of these headcanons) and remember requests are open just read the somewhat rules/introduction pinned on my page and maybe go read my list of characters and prompts if you don't have a very custom request. Tata for now my lovely little gremlins! -Creepz

[junior-high-rui-official]

// i did it

// this took me SIX HOURS tell me im beautiful and talented and cashapp me the money to buy all these clothes/silly

[amplifyme]

Doing a rewatch of Midnight Mass 'cause it's that time of year. This series had so, so many epic monologues, but this remains one of my favorites. Mike Flanagan will own my heart forever simply on the power of this one scene, that hit me like a sledgehammer because it was like he reached into my head, snatched up my thoughts about organized religion, and put them on the screen for everyone to see.

[lem-argentum]

it took me until dt to change rudy's hairstyle, but i ACTUALLY think he would've cut it back in post-stb when he became a reaper. the trope of "character cuts hair to feel more in control of their life" is cliché but REAL. and also the visual of him cutting it with his scythe is fun