#'he said 'i should have stayed with her' and i should have stayed away'

[pomegranatesarchive]

warming up

franco colapinto x teammate!reader

summary: franco is determined to make his teammate feel better with the perfect warm sweater.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: franco is slightly obsessed with reader, not much franco x reader action but still cute! two mentions of ‘yn’, shameless and jealous franco.

You had seriously underestimated how cold Vegas would actually be. 

It seemed like everyone had warned you, ‘Bring sweaters, it will get cold’ they said, and yet you chose to ignore them. So your situation could’ve easily been avoided. 

You gazed at Liam Lawson from the other side of the paddock, wishing nothing more that you were in his position, wrapped up in a blanket sitting right next to a heater. 

You sighed, imagining what you would feel like if you were in his position, you were so focused that you didn't see or hear your teammate walk up behind you. 

Franco looked at you with a smile, although he frowned when he realized you weren’t giving him his desired attention, he followed your gaze over to Liam, who was in the middle of an interview. 

“What are we looking at?” he whispered in your ear, ignoring your slight jump. 

“Jesus Franco,” you muttered, trying to calm yourself, “Liam looks real warm right now.” 

Franco nodded, rolling his eyes slightly, “Yes. Because he had a blanket. Do you not see that?”

You gave him a look, “Of course, I see that. That is the whole point. I want to be warm.” 

Franco gave you a look over, keeping his eyes on your bare arms, where he could see the cold making your hair stand up, he smiled, “Ah. Are you cold?” 

“I can’t feel my fingers,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes forward, on Liam. 

Franco frowned, holding back on asking why exactly you didn't bring a sweater, his stomach felt nauseous at the sight of you gazing at Liam with so much want. 

Now, you weren’t exactly looking at Liam, more so his body temperature, but still, Franco would give anything to have you gaze at him. 

He gasped, his face brightening, if he got you a sweater, there was no way you would be staring at Liam like that, you would be staring at him like that. 

“I will be right back.” he spoke firmly, starting to back away, “Do not leave.” you watched him over your shoulder, giggling as he fumbled into a sprint. 

—

“No, too ugly…” Franco mumbled to himself as he threw the sweater behind him, he pulled another from his small driver’s room closet, “No, too blue…” He threw this one behind him as well. Not noticing it landed on his trainer. 

The man in question jumped in shock, pulling the Williams-style sweater off his head, “What the..” he mumbled, turning to Franco, who held up a knitted sweater, “Perfect..” he heard Franco whisper. 

The trainer stared briefly, watching Franco go back scavenging through his closet. The trainer could only roll his eyes before slowly walking out of the room. 

“I should get her two.” Franco whispered to himself, “In case she doesn’t like one of them..” he nodded to himself, continuing to throw sweaters he didnt deem fit behind him. 

After ten minutes of back and forth, Franco existed his driver’s room content, he was going to be your night and shining armor, and then you’ll look at Franco with all the love in the world because he was the one to get you warm and cozy.�� 

Just as he was going to make his way over to the media pen, where he had left you, he was pulled aside by your manager.

“(Y/N) was looking for you.” she informed him, Franco grumbled to himself, “I told her to stay in place, tonta.” (dummy) 

“She got cold.” The woman defended you, “You left her out there…she waited for ten minutes.”

Franco held up the two sweaters in his arm with a frown, “I got her sweaters, so she would not be cold.” 

Your manager eyes him with a smirk, “You spent ten minutes finding a sweater to give her?”

Franco shrugged, “I wanted to make sure they were warm.” 

The woman tilted her head, “You know we have a merch store full of sweaters, right?”

Franco turned to her in disgust, “Mierda, those sweaters are like this,” he held his thumb and index together, “They are not warm. They need to be warm.” (shit)

“So you are giving her your sweaters?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that will make her fall in love with you?”

Franco leaned back in offense, “I do not need to make her fall for me…” he paused, “She is already in love with me, she just does not know it yet.” 

The woman nodded with pursed lips, “Yeah because that’s a totally sane thing to say.”

Franco simply rolled his eyes, having had this conversation one too many times. So what if his obsession with you was just slightly worrying? It was all going to work out in the end, he just knew it. “Do you know where she went?” 

Your manager thought for a moment. “She mentioned being hungry, so she probably went up to eat.” 

And with that, Franco went off with a sprint. 

—

Out of breath, and slight sweating, Franco entered the Williams dining room, eyes sweeping over the place with quick eyes. Only to feel a rush of disappointment when he didn't spot you. 

He let out a deep disappointed sigh as he took a seat at the bar. The bartender watched him as he wallowed in pity. 

Franco continued to let out deep, soul-searching sighs, catching the attention of those around him, the bartender walked but to him with an awkward smile, sliding over a glass of water. 

“Hey Franco,” she started, he glanced up at her with a small smile, “You okay?” she whispered, leaning in, there were all different kinds of people around them, investors, fans, journalists, and no doubt searching for a bit of drama to hold onto, the last thing she wanted was for this interaction to be first-page news tomorrow morning. 

“No.” Franco was blunt, “Was (Y/N) here?” 

The lady nodded, “Yeah she just left actually. She got her usual–” 

“Hot chocolate, whipped cream, caramel drizzle.” the two coursed. 

The bartender leaned back, impressed, “You really know her.” 

Franco shrugged, “She’ll be my wife one day, I need to know what she likes.”

The lady laughed, “Oh yeah? Does she know that?”

Franco tilted his head, “No sé. I don't think it's a secret that I like her.” (I don't know.)

The woman agreed; this was not the first time she’d heard about Franco being in love with you. It seemed like every time he and she talked, he managed to somehow make the conversation about you. 

Now, she didn't know if the feelings were one-sided, the way you looked at Franco certainly made her think they weren't.

She hummed, “Well she took her hot chocolate to go, so I don't know where she went.”

Franco nodded, slowly moving off the chair, his sweaters both tightly secure in his clutch, “Okay then. If she comes back, tell her I'm looking for her.”

—

Franco was late to the fan stage, he had been so busy looking for you that he had lost track of time, and now he was being yelled at by his manager through the phone, demanding to know where he was. 

It took him two minutes to run from the garage to the fan stage, he was recorded who knows how many times, and he was no doubt trending right now. 

He had thrown the two sweaters in the arms of his manager when he arrived, wasting no time climbing the small steps up to the stage. 

What he saw made his stomach drop, there you were in all your glory, wearing no other than a…mclaren puffer jacket. And you were talking to no other than…Lando Norris. 

God, the smile on your face made Franco want to claw his eyes out, Lando had never been that funny. 

Franco ignored the fans yelling his name, instead he squeezed in between you and Lando, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Hello,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on you. 

Lando looked over at you with an amused smile before walking away, shaking his head slightly. 

“Hi?” you questioned, glancing over to the fan’s direction weary, thankfully they seemed to be paying attention to Lando and Oscar, the latter seemingly saying something funny. 

“I was looking for you.” 

You winced, “Sorry but I got really cold, and then I got really hungry…” 

Franco smiled softly, "It's okay…” he glanced down at your attire, “What are you wearing?” 

You broke out into a smile, “Do you like it? Lando gave it to me, he said I looked cold.” 

“I don't like it,” Franco stated simply, you leaned back, an offended look on your face. “Okay. Rude.” 

“It’s really ugly, “ he continued, “You should change.” 

You huffed, “I didn't bring any sweaters!” 

Franco held up a finger before moving away. You rolled your eyes, moving back to the others on stage. 

A couple minutes later you felt someone's presence behind you, you jumped slightly, feeling someone pulling on your jacket, looking back you saw Franco, a look on his face. 

“Take this off,” he mumbled, you glanced to his shoulder, where two knitted sweaters lay. “Porfa?” he pleaded, seeing the hesitation on your face. (please) 

Later that night, as the fan stage was wrapping up, Franco walked up to Lando, handing him the Mclaren jacket with a smile, “She didn't want it…” he muttered, “And she doesn't want you.” he added as an afterthought, shooting the Mclaren driver a smile before walking over to you. 

[kinzhae]

"Can We Not Do This?"

Reader gets home after a long day, unfortunately for her she has a light argument with her partner making her more frustrated and tired like she was not enough.

Part 1; Reader x Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento Part 2; Choso, Ryomen Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro.

Angst(?) to comfort, Tired Reader, Fainting, arguing.

I felt like I should write this since working is weighing on me so much these days that I have to go home with a temper and argue with my sister over little things LMAO

Gojo Satoru

Gojo was sprawled on the couch, tossing popcorn into his mouth as you trudged into the room. You had just returned from a draining mission, your head pounding from the stress and exhaustion. All you wanted was a moment of silence, but of course, Gojo had other plans.

“Welcome back, sunshine!” he said, grinning. “You look like you got hit by a truck. Need me to fix that?”

“Not now, Satoru,” you muttered, heading for the kitchen to grab a drink.

“Aw, don’t be like that. You’re always so serious. Smile a little,” he teased, following you.

You clenched your fists, the pressure in your temples intensifying. “Can you not for once? I’m tired!”

His grin faltered for a moment, but he didn’t stop. “Oh, someone’s cranky. Did I say something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that!” you snapped, turning to face him, only for the room to spin. Your grip faltered, and the glass you were holding slipped from your fingers, shattering on the floor as your knees buckled.

Gojo’s carefree demeanor vanished in an instant. He was at your side, catching you before you hit the ground. “Y/N! Hey, hey, talk to me!” His voice, usually light and playful, was now trembling with worry. He cradled you carefully, his blindfold pushed up to reveal his panicked gaze as he checked your face and pulse.

When you stirred slightly, he exhaled in relief, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. “I’m such an idiot,” he muttered under his breath, his confident tone replaced by guilt. “I should’ve noticed you weren’t okay. I didn’t mean to push you like that.”

As your eyes fluttered open, his voice softened. “Don’t move yet, okay? Just rest. I’ll clean this up, and I’m getting Shoko to check on you. No arguments.”

For once, there was no teasing, no jokes, just his presence as he stayed close, whispering reassurances. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, Y/N. Let me take care of you this time.”

Geto Suguru

You were already weary as you entered the apartment, your shoulders slumping with exhaustion. Suguru stood by the window, arms crossed, a frown etched onto his face. He hadn’t said much lately, and tonight, his frustration bubbled to the surface.

“You’re late again,” he said, his voice calm but tinged with disappointment. “You could’ve at least called.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Suguru, I’ve had a long day. I don’t have the energy for this right now.”

“That’s always your excuse,” he replied, his gaze steady. “You’re shutting me out again, aren’t you?”

“Can we not do this?” you snapped, your patience worn thin. “I’m doing my best, okay? I don’t need this right now!”

His expression hardened. “I’m just asking for a little consideration—”

Before he could finish, your vision blurred. The pounding in your head grew unbearable, and your knees buckled. You barely registered the sound of something clattering to the floor as Suguru rushed to your side.

“Y/N!” His calm demeanor cracked, replaced by alarm as he caught you. He gently laid you on the couch, his hand cradling the back of your head as he checked for signs of injury.

When you stirred, his voice was low, almost trembling. “I didn’t realize how much you were dealing with. I should’ve seen it.” He pressed a cool cloth to your forehead, his usually composed face etched with guilt. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened instead of pushing.”

His hand lingered in yours as he whispered, “Rest now. I’ll handle everything else. You’re my priority.”

Nanami Kento

Nanami had always been a man of order and routine, but today, his usual composed demeanor felt more critical than supportive. You had barely walked in the door when he commented, “You’re late again. You’re overworking yourself.”

“I know,” you muttered, kicking off your shoes.

“Knowing isn’t enough,” he continued, his tone even but firm. “You need to manage your time better. This isn’t sustainable.”

“I’m trying, Kento!” you snapped, the throbbing in your head making it hard to think straight. “Do you think I like feeling like this?”

He froze at your sharp tone but didn’t back down. “I’m only saying this because I care. You can’t keep running yourself into the ground.”

Your vision blurred as the pressure in your temples reached a breaking point. The last thing you saw was Nanami’s shocked expression before the world tilted and you crumpled to the floor.

“Y/N!” His usually calm voice was filled with panic as he rushed to your side. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly as he checked your pulse and gently lifted you into his arms.

When you regained consciousness, he was sitting beside you, holding your hand tightly. “You scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just... I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his eyes soft with concern. “Rest. I’ll be here to take care of everything.”

[insanescriptist]

Flip the Table

Casually eavesdropping on what should be highly secure frequencies, Jason sipped his beer in a sleezy saloon style sports bar somewhere on the Vegas strip, nominally watching college(?) football; he's a hockey fan because baseball's boring as shit to watch and he's never got the appeal about American football. Football to the rest of the world was at least worth watching for the drama. Something had the Justice League in a tizzy and Zatanna -the one who normally covered Vegas when it came to the costumed crazies- was off world; Jason didn't have the details exactly but it sounded like Zatanna was dealing with some magical planar stuff and was not expected back for at least six more days. Assuming all went well.

So like any reasonable person who's going away for a time, she turned on her home security, had the alerts wired over to a friend -in this case Justice League Dark- gave a list of what was needed to be done and when -the pick up my mail and mow my lawn equivalants- went on her trip, trusting that the JLD were watching over her city and it wouldn't be on fire when she got back.

Such glorious hope.

And thus something happened so when Jason pulled into Vegas proper to investigate a desperate -read last hope- lead on a missing person's case, Jason happened to spy one of the lesser members of the JLD losing their shit in the sky. And so in a moment of civic duty, Jason started spying on them.

Magic was not something anyone trained by the Bat really ever got comfortable about, but chances were magic bullshit was going to intervene in his case. Justice League shit spilled over everything, all the time. Ghost cultists tripping Zatanna's necromancy alarms or whatever they were, was not Jason's business. Not unless the presumed cultists -those that had survived- had the person he was looking for.

No, he was looking at a missing person's case and his lead was 1. cold and 2. a longshot and 3. in a city full of tourists and catering staff, where "seen anything unusual lately" could be "there was this trio of tourists arguing how sex with your best friend doesn't count as cheating," or "someone having a meltdown over the delayed shipping of organic blueberries to the hotel," or "Sarah Maria got murdered a couple weeks ago on the job, but I haven't seen any notice about her funeral stuff on her social media, why yes, I do know she's dead, oh, she's dead and I'm an idiot for expecting someone dead to post on their socials their funeral deets."

Point was, he could look and ask all he wanted, beat feet for days, but the chances of this lead panning out were basically so minuscule that Jason could treat this more as a hobby case while on vacation. He still did his due diligence, asked the staff a few questions, called the guests on the same floor during the time period of their stay about how they found their stay, ran into the dead end of shitty business practices -they recorded over their own records every two weeks- and so unless Jason got the ability to do magic and do a "point me!" spell, the case would turn cold. It sucked when it happened but sometimes the evidence wasn't there. Or wasn't noticed or was destroyed before it could be collected. Sometimes people just didn't remember shit until three weeks later, which with some follow up digging gave him the lead to the hotel. Which got him nothing after that.

As Jason Todd didn't gain an innate ability to do magic that he was aware of that actually counted as magic bullshit magic instead of a couple cantrips, all he could do was get a beer and some food in a Vegas style Texas saloon bar. Which not his first choice, but it was full enough no one really paid attention to anyone. Technically a sport's bar but also very much was not. It was also busy enough that Jason ended up getting asked if someone could set with him at his table -which real Jason said hell no to, but cover Jason did agree to-

Oh. Meta. Jason realized quickly. Oh no, he's hot.

His hair is on fire!

How did the server miss that? Most metas don't casually out themselves like that! Too many people willing to target them for whatever power.

That hair was flaming, tied back in a low tail; Jason blinked and the hair flickered color, looked like normal hair -black- and then back to white fire, then black fire, some tv static abomination of color, white hair and then black hair. Another blink and it appeared to be black flames for hair and yeah, Jason closed his eyes. Pointedly ignored the hair thing. If the meta asked, Jason was judging him for the stupid little goatee.

The rest of the meta was built along the same lines as Jason himself, tall, broad and built. Packed with muscle, which was something to make note of; metas usually were more durable and could hit harder, so Jason casually made note to not get hit if a fight broke out.

Which it might, or probably would.

That's just how Jason's luck ran. To shit.

Said meta also ordered food and a beer, didn't even get asked for ID -unfair bias- and judging by the sound, turned in the seat to look at the American football screen that Jason had been ignoring. His hair had at least settled to black flames instead of the glitchy hair.

Of course as this was Vegas, people gambled on outcomes of games too. Which is how Jason learned the meta was rich enough to blow a couple grand -not expensive in the world of supers- but more than what the average person would be comfortable betting.

There were better ways to piss away money than gambling on sports. Like on over priced burgers and onion rings with an order of mozzerella sticks. The burger was good, admittedly Jason's had better and then some party of guys was yelling at the ref on a screen. And yup, that's some altercation with another table but the barman broke it up with a couple of words.

His tablemate muttered something about the ref having made the right call if one of the players wanted to continue a career professionally and Jason used that as social leverage to get a name -Dan, no last name given- and a bit more in-depth explanation on what stakes were going on; he's a hockey guy, not a football guy.

Some time later, Dan had caught him up on the football drama -nothing compared to the hockey drama- and conversation had drifted significantly from sports, lightly touched on family -Dan had siblings he shared little about other than they existed, which fair, they could also be metas and at risk- much like Jason did -he had siblings that existed, no further details- and parents weren't mentioned. Instead a lot of engineering talk, a slide into ethics -Dan's opinion on killing super villains was very much that some people needed Ended- and some small talk about how Dan's high school English teacher cursed in classical book titles.

Soon the easy joy of potential friendship ended when his phone rang; that was the Batman ringtone and Jason felt no guilt hanging up on him. And again. And again.

Then Dick rang and nope. He was not dealing with their shit. Dick would just sweeten up whatever shit B wanted to shovel.

And then Oracle's ringtone rang. Oh, now that was serious. Justice League shit spilling into his life again. No fucking doubt about it.

"Uh-huh, so what's up? Because I gotta say, I am a couple drinks in and the whole bar is waiting for one of the football teams to fumble or foul up their next play so they can throw down."

"Jay-" She started because much like Bruce, she would rather go straight into the mission, and Jason absolutely had wrong-footed her. Because instead of making excuses to leave, Jason had absolutely stayed. So now she had to rephrase things on the fly because who knows who might be listening in. "Hey, it's on the news that the Justice League is showing up in Vegas; something about investigating something magical showing up."

"Uh-huh, that's not a surprise. There was some magic ninny flying in a panic earlier. I decided it wasn't my business."

"I hadn't heard that," -bullshit, she just hadn't double-checked that herself yet- "but what I did hear that some cult might have succeeded in bringing something over."

"Uh-huh. Well, no one's praying to Cthulu yet, there's been no troublemaking beyond the usual human malice and nothing's on fire."

"We were just concer-" And Jason hung up on Oracle.

He'd pay for that later, but petty was satisfying now.

"Sounded important."

"Was bullshit."

"So an entity summoned by a cult that tripped a bunch of magicians into a tizzy-"

Yeah, those sharp ears were not for show. Enhanced hearing check. "That's a bunch of incompetents panicking." Time for his good guess to hit or miss. "You're not going to decide to destroy Vegas, are you?"

"Done it before, doing it again seems pointlessly petty." Statements Jason wasn't going to prod further right now.

"And what if Wisconson University loses?"

"Might flip the table." Dan shrugged.

"More beer?" Jason asked.

"Sure."

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | part twenty-one preview

The last bed you laid in smelled like lemon mint detergent. It was the full bed in your sister's guest room. Everything was crisp and white. They rarely had guests besides you. Some of your clothes stayed in that closet, one of your toothbrushes stayed in the connected bathroom, waiting for your visits. You'd awaken that last morning not thinking you'd never sleep in bed for another five years. You left it unmade.

This bed smells like pine and warmth.

Ghost's room is small and dimly lit. The ceiling slants so that one end is not tall enough for him to fully stand. There's a dresser and a nightstand, leaving only a sliver of floorspace.

After the metal latch on the door clicks shut, Ghost lays the blanket down and grabs a pillow for himself. That leaves the bed to you. Springs creak beneath your weight as you silently slip under a heavy, rustic quilt. The years-embedded scent of him wraps around you like a drug-induced fog. For some reason, you hesitate to move, lying frozen as he flicks off the light. You wonder if he always locks the door, or if he did it for you. So you feel more certain they won't try anything.

Only after you hear his shuffling around as he lays down do you allow yourself to get comfortable. You cocoon your body under the quilt and turn to your side, closing your eyes.

A thought reopens them minutes later. You roll onto your back and speak into the swollen darkness. "Have you known about this Switzerland place?"

For a moment, you think he's already asleep. Then, from below the bed by your feet, he says, "Heard of it."

"That is what you guys talked about, isn't it?" you ask absentmindedly.

"Among other things."

You sit up so you can see him, but all that you can make out is a dark shadow. "Care to share?"

"Some things are on a need-to-know basis," is all he gives.

"And I don't need to know?"

"Precisely."

It stings; you don't know why. A hand sweeps through your hair as you audibly exhale. "Some team we make, huh? Or I guess we're only a team when you need me to do something for you."

You quickly realize how petulant you must sound. A grumbled swear, then more shuffling. The shadow sits upright. "They asked me to go with them. I said no. Too far. Too many variables that are hard to predict, and she's not ready for them. Happy?"

You bite your lip. Relief sits in place of the slight uncertainty since your conversation with Nereida. Joining them was shut down. You wouldn't tell her, but it sounds asinine, whether or not that commune exists. Risky at best, fatal at worst. You're tempted to ask him how many days he thinks they'll recoup here before continuing their journey, but opt for sleep instead. He seems done with the conversation, too, lying back down. Then, you have the best sleep you've had in years in his bed.

When the sun turns pink, you awaken to a room void of Ghost. He's gone. It should be expected, but you'd thought he might wake you up to train like normal. Though, the past twenty-four hours haven't been normal. You look around, the details of his room more visible now in the morning. On the nightstand beside you, there is a stack of books and you scan the titled spines. Mostly classics. One Hemingway. All tattered and read frequently. Beside them lays a silver chain attached to a dog tag. You gently finger the engraved metal so as not to move it out of place: Simon Riley. 

Snooping through his things is more tempting than you're willing to admit. You slip out of bed, socked feet silently padding over to the dresser. There are mostly papers. His map, a notepad with scribbled half-cursive on it, and then a faded photo beneath it. You freeze, breath hitching, as if you've done something dangerous just by stumbling upon it. Curiosity is thick in your chest, difficult to ignore. Gentle fingers reach to shift it out, revealing a picture that you know right away is of Blue and her mom. Blue is a baby. Maybe one year old. A woman with light brown hair holds her up, sitting on a bench in front of a playground. She's pretty and young. There is a sadness when you wonder if this is the only picture he has of them-before her death. Then, there is another feeling. You swallow it. 

You quickly slip the photo back just the way you found it and leave the room. 

[m-jelly]

His shirts

Mafia dad Levi x fem reader

It'd been a long few days for Levi and being away from his family was something he hated, but sometimes he had to go away with Erwin and a few others to do business in another country. Normally, Levi would take you and his daughter along with him to enjoy a foreign country, but it was too dangerous this time. So, you, his goddess of a wife and precious little baby girl were left at home with his mum helping out.

With arms full of presents and a smile on his face, Levi strolled from his car to his home on the hill with glorious views of the city and sea with mountains behind. It made him smile that as a couple you'd gone from a tiny apartment to this large house. The two of you had worked so hard together.

He pushed open the front door and slipped his shoes and coat off. He slowly made his way into the large living room to see the sunken sofa and sitting area in front of the TV was occupied by you and his three-year-old daughter.

Levi's heart skipped a beat when he heard you giggle at your daughter. He blushed at seeing you and his daughter in shirts of his. He moved closer until he was close to the steps down to the sofa area. Levi's feelings and emotions kept changing. He was aroused by you being in just his shirt and thigh-high socks with your thick thighs he loved biting on show. He felt like he could just melt into a gooey mess at seeing his daughter in his shirt that was too big for her.

Daisy stomped her little feet up to her bear and picked it up into the air. "Sleep with the fishy!" She then threw the bear down to the ground. "Bye-bye." She huffed before looking up and noticing Levi. Daisy's face lit up in pure delight. "DADDY!"

You flinched and turned your head to see Levi. "Hey, grumpy kitty. Welcome home."

Daisy ran over to him with her arms open. "Daddy!"

Levi placed the gifts down before scooping his daughter up into his arms. "Hello, my cute little flower. Have you been good for your mummy?"

She nodded. "Yes! We played, we cuddled and mummy told me so many stories."

"Sounds like a lot of fun." He walked down the steps and sat on the sofa next to you, you were clearly buzzing with excitement at seeing him but you were happily waiting. "I'm glad."

"I slept in Daddy's bed."

"You did? Were you keeping mummy company?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He pocked her cheek. "Thank you." He kissed her puffy cheek. "So, what was this sleeping with the fishy?"

She grinned. "You say it!"

He released a long sigh. "You're right..." He placed her down on her feet. "I have a few presents for you." He leaned over and grabbed the ones for her. "Go sit with your teddy and take your time with them, okay? I have a very beautiful mummy to kiss."

Daisy hugged her gifts as she giggled. "Thank you, daddy. Give mummy lots and lots and lots of kisses!"

He watched her run off before slowly turning to you. He shifted closer as excitement throbbed inside him. "Bunny." He growled your pet name with a deep voice laced with desire. "I missed you." He caressed your cheek. "Come here."

You dove into his arms. "Mm, Levi."

He dragged you onto his lap and inhaled deeply allowing him to enjoy your scent. "Fuck, I missed you so much." He tilted his head and kissed you. The two of you moaned and purred in delight. "Oh, bunny you are a delight and pleasure."

You massaged your fingers in his hair. "So are you." You shifted on his lap. "Promise you're staying a while?"

"Promise. No more going away for days."

"Good, 'cause I might have to lock you up."

He chuckled. "I think I'll like that." He massaged your thighs. "So, my shirt huh?"

You nodded and looked over at Daisy playing with her new toys. "We both missed you. Daisy got very teary-eyed about it so I told her what I do when I miss you, I get one of your shirts. She said we should wear them and we have been for two days now." You looked back at Levi. "That okay?"

"More than okay." He nuzzled his nose against yours. "Wear it later?"

You saw the sparkle in his eyes and knew what he was talking about. "Oh, I will." You nipped his neck. "I'm all yours." You slipped off his lap making him whine. "Now! I think you should help your daughter make her toys sleep with the fishy."

Levi slipped off the sofa and sat on the floor. "Alright, little flower. Who we making sleep today?"

Tag list under the cut

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[thatnonameuser]

OMGOMGOMGOMGOMG I just read the Azul thought and I totally agree!! It makes me excited to see his breaking point when his contracts are all destroyed!!! AH!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Can't wait to see him crying and sobbing because all his hard work turned to dust, that he's once more proven to be a pathetic yandere. Outclassed by some like Leona that even MC [A darling!] chose to live and work with Leona more than him. [and on that note: I can also imagine that this memory will make Azul more spiteful with Leona post-ob.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And speaking of Leona!! I also had a thought. Did you know that in the original Lion King, Scar liked Simba's mom? And one of the reasons he killed Mufasa was to have her when he becomes king. I was wondering if you're going to incorporate that? That Leona once thought of Cheka's mom as his darling, and when his brother took her away [Like he took everything else from him] Leona was filled with hatred; In a Leona-centered event, Leona was said to have done everything in his power to prove that he too should have a claim to the throne and that he was better than his brother, only to give up once his brother's reign became secure after producing Cheka. I would imagine yan-au Leona to try and fight his brother for darling, only to lose. And he'd keep fighting, of course, he's nothing but tenacious. Only to have his spirits crushed when it's announced that she's pregnant. [Which you said is an ultimate claim of the darling?]

He went to school late because of that and he stayed there because he didn't like going home [Probably gets sour every time he catches sight of Cheka.] And you said that yanderes can find out that they can mistake a darling to be theirs until they meet "The true one". So will MC be a victim of this "True Darling" schtick? I imagine this can fuel Leona's possessive tendencies. He's already lost once. I doubt he'd want to lose again. [I also imagine he'd be pissed at Riddle and everyone else during his OB, cause they specifically kept MC away as he was "too dangerous"] just a thought dump, hope this is okay?

Don’t worry! It was perfectly okay!!

Azul’s going to want to kill Leona. 

After finding out Leona, a strong yandere, sent him back to being a pathetic, useless yandere again with just a little magic is destroying him. And when he finds out you worked with him (you hate him, you think he’s too weak so you chose someone stronger because he’s too pathetic-) well, that’ll just destroy him. When he finds out that you slept in Leona’s bed because of your deal. Knowing that you were wrapped in that beast’s arms for three nights makes his cold blood boil that much hotter.

(Side note - Chad Leona stealing Beta Azul’s girl was a hilarious idea I came up with as I was writing this. I thought I’d share it.)

He wants to skin that lion alive. But if you come to him for any help in getting away from the lion, he’ll do it without a second thought, anything he can do to draw you to him and away from that lazy, oversized house cat.

*                        *                        *                        *

But let’s move back to Leona. But before that, Scar. 

I actually did know that Scar liked Sarabi, that’s the name of Simba’s mom, which is why I’ve made her his darling.  Scar says in the Lion King that Mufasa was always stronger than him, so maybe Scar tried to fight for the throne and Sarabi’s hand and failed. And because of that it’s one of the reasons he kills his brother and tries to kill Simba, because he wants to get rid of every reminder that he didn’t win her hand originally. 

Now back to Leona, he is similar. He originally assumed Falena’s wife, then fiance, to be his darling back when his brother brought her home. She was beautiful, smart and sly. She wasn’t some useless basic princess, she was clever and snarky, noble and strong. Back then, he confused her for his darling. And for good reason, back then he once saw her as perfect. 

But as soon as he saw the bite mark on the back of her neck, the love at first sight dissolved into jealous fury. Of course, his brother would try to take everything he ever wanted away from him before he could even try to get it. Like he always did. 

Watching him wrap his arm around her, kiss her, and touch her made that jealous burn all the brighter. He obviously tried to fight his brother for her, but while he was given the brains in the family, his brother got the brute strength and he lost. Whenever he tried again, he lost again. He even hoped his brother would fail in the rituals needed for him to marry her, but once again the brute found success. 

And then they got married, and then she got pregnant, and after that Cheka was born. And that little ankle biter wouldn’t leave him alone, permanently reminding him about his loss. Going home drilled that agonising reminder into his heart. 

But then, he met you.

There’s a saying that if you confuse someone else as your darling, their traits will be similar to your true darling. And you are all those things.

He knew you were his as soon as he breathed in your scent. And he was given his second chance to have his darling. His true one this time. But that’s what makes him so possessive. Fuelled by his animal instincts and past loss, he’s not going to risk losing you.

Regarding his rage at the others for keeping you away from him, he’s definitely pissed combined with the reminder of his other losses. The urge to dissolve them into sand particles for them keeping his darling away from him. 

Also……..

Seven forbid Leona finds out Malleus has been spending time with you. Seven forbid Leona finds out you’re also Malleus’ darling. Leona’s not dumb, as soon as he can get you he will. 

Better be smart, Herbivore~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: my gut said go full self-indulgent so I did.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Your phone lights up again. You’ve already waited too long. You can’t avoid this any longer and in that moment, avoiding Lloyd’s family is a bigger priority. You get up, thankful to be away from Lloyd’s wandering touches, and excuse yourself to take the call. You don’t miss the scathing judgment from Gwenyth, but you don’t care either. 

You go out into the hallway and try to keep your voice down. There’s enough chatter that you’re not entirely concerned. You answer and close your eyes. 

“Hi, mom--” 

“Where are you?” She demands. “You said you would be here. I’ve been waiting. Calling. Your sister too. We’re all worried--” 

“Mom, I’m sorry. I missed my flight--” 

“Oh, yes, I couldn’t put that together,” she snaps. 

“I’m sorry, mom. Really. I know—I messed up again. I really wanted to come but that was the only flight--” 

“It’s not that you couldn’t make it, it’s that you couldn’t even let me know! I’ve been in shambles, thinking the worst. I check the flights to make sure there were no crashes, I’ve been looking through news reports.” 

She starts to devolve into breathy sobs. You feel horrible. Your guilt overwhelms your self-pity. Suddenly being stuck with these rich snobs isn’t so bad. Your mother has spent half her Christmas worrying over you, and know her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually tore some hair out. 

“I know I should have called. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” you lie, poorly since the defeat is in your voice.  

Your mother has always been your kryptonite. She’s not cruel like Gwenyth, but her disappointment is devastating and all too easy to earn. She just wants the best for you but you’ve never managed the best. 

“So you can come?” She sniffles. 

“Um, not today, but I’m looking at tomorrow.” Another frail falsehood. “I promise, I’ll let you know--” 

“Sweet pea,” Lloyd’s voice undercuts yours and you cringe. You put your finger up and turn to signal him to hush. 

“Yeah, mom, I’ll try for tomorrow and if I can’t get there--” 

“Mom?” Lloyd echoes with a smirk. 

You shake your head. 

“Who’s that?” Your mom asks. 

You grimace and glare daggers at Lloyd as he comes closer. You outstretch your arm and put your hand just below his chest.  

“Mom, it’s just--” 

Lloyd easily reaches past your resistance and swipes the phone. He puts it on speaker with a tap of his thumb as you lunge at him. He grabs your arm and forces it up. Nearly dangly you from it as you lash with the other. 

“Is this mom?” Lloyd asks brightly. 

“Um, hello? Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” 

“Mom, I’m here. Lloyd, give me the phone back--” 

“Boo, what’s going on?” She asks. 

Lloyd looks at you with a mischievous grin and mouths ‘boo?’ with a tweaked brow. You shake your head again and plead. 

“Mom, it’s nothing--” 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” he speaks over you. “We’re going to be coming tomorrow.” 

“We?” She ekes out, you hear the worry mounting in her voice. 

“Please don’t be mad at Pixie, she was just being a good girlfriend. We stopped by my family’s house and oh boy, the snow we got up this way,” he tuts in a very convincing monologue. You’re stunned into silence at his act. He sounds like a decent person but you know better. “And you know, everything was so hectic as we tried to dig out that it just got all ahead of us.” 

“I’m sorry, who are you? Boo?” She asks desperately. 

“Mom--” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with that. I’m Lloyd. Her boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” You mother breathes, “boo?” 

“Yeah, mom, er,” you wrench your hand free and smack Lloyd’s arm. “He’s um, going to come with me, so uh--” 

“I’ll be there, both of us, with bows on,” he promises. “Please, allow me to apologise from the bottom of my heart for keeping your daughter from you. You can’t blame her. It was entirely me. I am not a morning person and she can only do so much to keep me in line.” 

You grit your teeth as you squint at him. How does he sound like such a dweeb? Well, looking at him with that mustache, he kinda is one. 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, very nice,” your mother coos, “I can let everyone else know. Oh, boo, you could’ve told us--” 

“Again, that’s on me,” Lloyd preens, “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

“It is, it is,” she assures. “Oh, it will be so nice to meet you. We’ve never met any of Pixie’s men.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“We never really thought she had any. She’s always been so focused on work, and before that, it was school--” 

“Mom,” you jab Lloyd’s ribs as he smirks bigger and bigger, then snatch the phone from him. “Promise, we’ll get there but uh... gotta go. Love you.” 

“Love you too, boo. Oh and it was nice meeting you, um--” 

“Lloyd,” he supplies and sticks out his tongue. 

“Bye.” You hit end and put your phone in your pocket.  

Your agitation peaks and you can’t help from shoving Lloyd. It barely affects him which annoys you more. God, he is such a little—big turd. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“What? I just did you a favour.” 

“A favour? You just dragged my family into this bullshit--” 

“Well, hate to break it to you, boo,” he emphasizes the last word as he grabs your hands and pulls them away from his stomach, “but they’re going to have be. We promised mine a white wedding.” 

“You are so--” 

“So...?” He prompts. 

“Urgh.” 

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy. It’s a ticket out of this place. Literally. So you just let me know where I need to book tickets and I’ll pull a few strings--” 

“Strings? You couldn’t pull these earlier?” 

“On Christmas Day? Please, even I can’t do that but the day after Christmas, my guy’s getting into the punch right now, he’ll be just tipsy enough--” 

“You are torturing me,” you accuse. 

“I really can’t deny that,” he snickers as he lets you go. “Now tell me where I’m booking these tickets too and I’ll hop right on that...” he looks you up and down and bites his lip, “as much as I’d like to hop on something else.” 

You huff, “Toronto.” 

He twitches, “Toronto? As in... Canada?” 

You nod and roll your eyes. 

“Wait, Pixie puff, you’re Canadian?” 

You tilt your head and look at him. You shrug, “what does that matter?” 

“Well, I thought you type were supposed to be nice, first of all.” 

“Just make the call,” you sneer and cross your arms. “You’ve already mangled this Christmas, may as well put it out of its misery.” 

“Why don’t you do the same for me, huh? I’m suffering, Pix. Just give it a squeeze” he gets closer. You flutter your lashes then he wiggles his hips. “These pants are killing my circulation. I told you, I don’t wear underroos.” 

“Back up before I lose it,” you warn. 

“I’m close to losing it too, baby face,” he groans. 

“Make. The. Call.” You demand. “And I’ll happily break the news to your dear sweet mother that we need to go get ready to fly out.” 

His expression sobers and he exhales heavily, “Pix,” he utters quietly, “sometimes, you’re scary. Don’t... don’t piss off mom too much. Please.” 

“Book the tickets, honey poo,” you chime in an acidic tone, “and I’ll make sure mommy’s not crying into her champagne.”  

You poke centre of his chest and bounce on your heels before you spin away. Your mother’s disappointment might be like arsenic but Gwenyth’s is the exact antidote you need. 

❄️

“I know a girl in Toronto. A few actually,” Lloyd says over the steering wheel. He’s tasked with driving back to the hotel since you imposed sobriety on him as punishment for the day. “Strange, you’re nothing like them.” 

“I don’t care,” you grumble. 

“Ugh, your wheel is too low,” he mutters as he stops at a red and tries to adjust it. You don’t respond.  

You just want to lay down. Your head is pounding from the lack of sleep and Lloyd managed to book you an early morning flight which will curtail any meaningful sleep. You close your eyes and ignore his fussing. 

Finally, he steps on the gas. “So, Canada, you grew up with those geese, huh? Explains the bite--” 

“What?” 

“I read somewhere they have teeth--” 

“Why the heck are you moaning about geese for?” 

“I hear it now. Couldn’t place it before. I thought Minnesota or somewhere but when you’re angry, you get this twang--” 

“Be quiet,” you let your head drop back again. “I’m getting a migraine.” 

“Aw, baby,” he coos. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“I can make it better. I read somewhere that you can massage it better. Oh, and you know, orgasms--” 

“You read a lot of nonsense for someone who I never see reading,” you drone and prop your elbow against the door to cradle your head. 

“There’s a wealth of information on the internet when you’re not scrolling porn,” he chuckles. You let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t worry, pixie. I’m committed to this. Me and you, we’re going to get our piece of the pie and make off like bandits.

"So you let me play the loyal husband. I’ll get you all spread out and loose, I’ll rub your head and your shoulders, then my hands might wander a little bit more...” he hums. “I’ll touch the peach a bit, I just can’t help myself, but I think you’ll be ready by then.” 

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you snarl. 

“Ah, come on, flying is so stressful and after the day we had, we both need that release--” 

“How many more times do I need to tell you to stop?” 

“And how many times do I need to tell you I won’t? It’s fate now, Pixie.” He clucks and slowly turns. You lift your head and look up at the hotel sign. “Hey, if you like the long game, I can go along with it. Make it hurt so good.” 

“Do you ever think of anything else?” 

“There’s a constant undercurrent that never really leaves my mind,” he shrugs as he parks. “But I’m great at multitasking.” 

You grumble and shake your head. It sends a throbbing pulse through your skull. You undo your seatbelt and drag yourself out of the car. As the door shuts, you wince. Then Lloyd’s and you feel the nausea start to crawl through your guts. The lack of sleep, the stress, the alcohol, it’s a perfect recipe for a deadly migraine. 

You do your best to push through as you make your way up to the room silently. Lloyd is not so quiet. He’s rambling about something; a shirt? You don’t know and you don’t care.  

You take out the room and enter the hotel suite. You drop the key and your purse and shed your coat. You hang it on the hook on the back of the door and tread further in. You don’t stop until you get to the bed. You ease yourself down and bury your face in the pillow. 

“Pixie,” Lloyd’s worry puts you on edge. You raise your hand and wave him off without lifting your head. “You need some Advil?” 

You shoo him again with your fingers. You popped some with your last glass of wine. You probably should’ve opted for water. 

Your alarm is set. You will have to awake before the sky shifts that slightly lighter shade of grey and try again. You know better than to trust Lloyd, but you’re putting some faith in him to get you home. 

You feel the bed dip behind you and Lloyd’s mutters and grumbles creep into your ears. You move the pillow over your head and hug it against your ear. You tune him out as you urge your mind down to the depths. In your bouts, there is no relief, but sleep can at least dull the agony. 

Your brain turns to sludge as the steady pounding evens out to a tempo. You drift into the muddy no man’s land between waking and otherwise. You’re conscious enough to feel the pain, but you're detached enough to bear it. 

Time crumbles around like sand in a glass. Your mind swirls with churning recreations of the day behind you. Most of them fractured and nonsensical. Voices without words, faces without names. 

A shiver washes through you as a tickle flutters down the back of your thighs. The cool sensation flows over your skin. You shudder and cling to that tenuous state of dissociation. A jolt forces you out of the void. 

You roll over and throw your arm out. It bounces off of Lloyd’s shoulder as your eyes slit. You yipe as you find him tugging at your pants. You kick and amplify the siren whining in your head. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp as you flail at him. 

“Relax, pixie stick, I’m just trying to help you relax. You can’t sleep in this,” he peels your pants down your legs and you swat at him again. 

You look down and find your sweater gone, only your bra to conceal your chest. You quickly hide behind folded arms. “What the hell?” 

“Damn, Pix, you never said you had a dump truck he untangles the fabric from your ankles. 

You whimper and push yourself up on your elbows, you bareness secondary to your irritation. “Get way from me.” 

“Just let me rub you down,” he begs as he runs his hands up your calves. “Promise, I’ll be a good boy. I kept my dick strapped down, baby.” 

Your eyes flit down unthinkingly. He’s in only his briefs. The rest of him is exposed; his fur-trimmed chest, his thick but firm stomach, and his muscled legs. You look him in the face and he winks. “Made you look.” 

“Stop, please,” you flick your fingers at him. 

“You got me struggling,” he begs as his hands trail further up and he kneads your thighs. “I’m hurting like prom night and you been grinding on me in a tack ballgown all night--” 

“Ew--” 

“It’ll make you feel better--” 

You catch his fingers as he traces the edges of your underwear. As you curl up, the weight of your head thunks own at the base. Urgh. 

“No--” 

“I’m just going to rub you down like a good boy. That’s it,” pushes against your hands. “You can even keep these on.” He runs his thumbs along the front of your panties. “They look fucking delicious anyway.” 

“Lloyd.” 

“Shhh,” he hushes you and shoves your hands off of his. 

Before you can stop him, he straddles you. He puts his large hands around your skull and you whine. H works his fingers into your scalp as he continues to shush you and presses his thumbs to your temples. The warmth of his tough makes you sigh. You hate that it feels good. 

“Just like this, baby,” he purrs as he keeps you pinned under him. “Just relax.” 

Your eyes roll back as you shatter to pieces. In this state, you have no strength to fight him. Besides, why should you stop him when it feels so amazing? 

[firelightfics]

Work your magic.

Scar x Mage! Healer! Gn! Reader

From this message (CAUSE I FORGOT TO TURN THE ASKS THING ON BEFORE AND REALISED SO LATE 😭)

Warnings: mentions of illness, violence and drug use [not Reader], should be mostly fluff though, banished mage reader, okay.. I kinda gave Reader an adoptive daughter I can't help it I'm sorry.

Extra: The person requested for the reader to be strong, so I went with the route of them being able to create and manipulate detailed and realistic illusions, and their strength is in that sort of field rather than battle strength. So they have a more mental strength and can manipulate dreams although its not really a main point.

DID I NAME SCARS BABY? YES. I NAMED HER RIRI OKAY? ITS CUTE. SHE'S CUTE.

Summary: Y/n, a mage, who has wandered too far from home finds themself under the care of the firelights. Or perhaps the firelights have found themselves in their care. A particular chirean takes interest in their less than typical methods of calming people.

Masterlist.

Ko-fi

---

Its been too long since I have seen my family. I come from a place far from here, so far I'm not even sure it is of the same plane of existence. My home feels foreign to me now. Years have passed since I was there. Banishment does tend to keep a person away I suppose.

Since I have wandered to a new home, a place I stumbled upon by chance. No, even that isn't right. I stumbled upon the person running this place is more accurate, he was shielding a small injured girl from harsh weather and clearly manic due to the fear of losing the child in the even harsher city of Zaun. I offered them help as I was nearby enough with a place to stay. I couldn't be more glad that Ekko accepted my help that day, as stubborn as he can be.

Its only been a couple of weeks since such an event, but Flora has healed quickly with my help and has been helping introduce me to the Firelights. She's a sweet girl who now seems rather attatched to me and tends to stick around the medical area that I have taken residence in. Ekko, the leader, has helped me get more comfortable here and I couldn't be happier. Or maybe, I could be happier. I've never tried to be more than just content, its all my family allowed until I tried something new and got myself banished.

In the past few weeks, many people have come to me for assistance. Plenty injured from time out on the streets, a few scraped and scratched children and returning firelights after their dangerous missions. It worries me how many shimmer affected patients I've recieved, this drug is a foreign concept to me still but calming those affected with illusions of things they enjoy seems to solve their aggression for a time until the drug wears out. Healing can only help so much when the wounds are not visible. I find much more difficultly with these patients, but if I weren't up to the challenge I would have left.

-

Flora had just settled in for the night, a small loft area for her to use as she pleases. Although she doesn't have a proper room, I plan to change one of the unused rooms into a proper space for her if she wishes. For particularly gruesome patients, I always ask her to return to her normal room and she does. What a sweetheart. I hum a tune as I pack away balms and bandages to use another day. The quiet is nice with the shadowy atmosphere, few things would dare disturb such a calm. Few, but never zero.

The door is quickly flung on its hinges as Scar, Ekko's seemingly stern right-hand man, bursts into the room, startling me and Flora, who was very nearly drifting off. His eyes are wide with a certain kind of distress only a worried father can display. In his arms is his screaming baby girl, the poor dear clearly unwell. Not a word is said as I take her from his arms and usher her to the nearest and softest place to lay her. Scar seems to shake with terror. He must be almost as frightened as her.

I gently feel her forehead to vaguely check my suspicions of a fever and am pleased to have guessed correctly. I swirl my hands with a dark blue starry mist forming into shapes and animals, floating and playing with one another as a distraction for the poor baby. Her cries seem to dull, if only for a moment. Her concentration taken from what I could only assume to be a headache and placed on a starry fox prancing amongst a now fully formed forest scene. With the distraction working, I quickly gather a child friendly medication for her. Its a sweeter flavour than most but she surely won't mind or care as she is too enraptured by the friendly forest creatures of my hometown.

She doesn't fight or fuss over the medication, simply grumblles a little, and turns back to her little show. However, I'm reminded of another presence when the silence is broken by his ragged breathing. I assume Flora is asleep after the littlest was calmed. I pick her up and move towards where Scar is sat. The larger man looks utterly horrified, his normally steady stance shattered at the thought of his daughter being deathly ill. Luckily, it seems to be not much more than a fever and headache.

"Rough day?" I ask simply as I bounce her lightly in my arms before handing her back to Scar. He sighs as he carefully grips her small form, his lip twitches up in a quick huff of air and smirk paired as one.

"Something like that. Is she going to be okay?" He quickly switches topics to avoid the obvious worry I have forming for him.

"Of course, it doesn't seem like anything serious. No real magic had to be used aside from my little 'puppet show' for her." I gently tickle under her chin, causing her to giggle at the attention. Scar's eyes bounce up to meet mine, and he smiles. Staring into his eyes, I see the clear tiredness of a struggling parent.

"We shou-"

"You should stay." I catch him before he tries to flee. Why is he so against taking a break? If not for his own sake, why not her sake? "I have a cot she can use, and we have spare room for you both it really wouldn't trouble us. To be able to look after her, you need to be able to look after yourself."

He looks down and grimaces but nods and follows while I guide him to one of the spare rooms that are likely to keep longer-term patients, but I've never had that, so they're empty. I bring him to a room with items for caring for babies and a bed big enough for him to sleep nearby. He lays her down so gently that it makes me honestly question what I even know about the man.

"Thank you." Is the last thing spoken between us as I leave for the night.

-

This is the first of a few of our encounters, seemingly becoming more frequent. His eyes always a sharp contrast to their normal rough shape and instead becoming soft around me and little Riri. Maybe a small bit of progress, but it is progress nonetheless.

She quickly recovered and yet Scar was adamant on staying and asking me to care for her when I could, which was admittedly most of the time since the only patient I seem to ever recieve is the vastayan himself. As though he was allowing only himself to take the rougher hits to get treated by me.

The door to the clinic gently clicks open and Scar appears in the room, Flora and Riri are playing in the far corner and I'm reading a worn down book on the counter.

"Pick up time already? My, how the time flies. I-"

"Actually I'd like to stay tonight, if thats okay?"

My face contorts to one of confusion, but I won't lie and say it isn't a pleasant surprise. I simply nod, thinking he'd leave to the room he's basically claimed as his and Riri's. However as he stops he nods me over.

Curious, I follow without any debate. Flora will look out for Riri and knows what she's doing by now. He sighs as he drops to sit on the bed and pats a spot next to him.

"I, I have had trouble sleeping." He grimaces and puts his back against the wall. "I was wondering if you could use those illusions of yours to help me?"

My eyebrows raise, and my mouth falls open slightly. He's asking me to use my magic on him? I was convinced he hated it as he only ever cautiously stared when I'd used it. I thought he was afraid. His brows are pulled together, and he can't meet my eyes, hands placed on his lap in front of him.

"Why would I ever turn down my second best patient?" I grin at him and he looks up confused.

"How am I second?" Almost offended, a fake snarl on his lips but a slight upturn that is barely hiding a smirk.

"Oh poor dear," my hand gingerly raises to meet his cheek, "are you jealous?"

He quickly breaks and chuckles, fake snarl failing completely, instead changing to a weak smile. Oh, so we are like that, I suppose. The grin on my face turns to a full smile that I hope properly conveys the joy that comes with the accidental confession of sorts.

"How could you possibly be jealous of your own daughter? The little thing has been such an angel, why wouldn't she be my number one." I tease knowing it will irk him slightly.

Before I can revel in my slight victory, he gets in close and grabs a hold of my jaw. Eyes meeting mine in an intense stare before quickly pressing his lips to mine. Simple. Yet so impactful. He pulls back and his eyes droop, the tiredness still there yet he seems far more awake somehow.

"Shut up and work your magic, mage. The quicker your done, the quicker we can sleep."

"We? Whoever said I was going to sleep too?"

"Me."

---

OKAY I THINK I LOST THE PLOT OF WHAT I ORIGINALLY WANTED TO DO WITH THIS PROMPT BUT I can't lie, they're cuties still 🤭

I'll be getting through each request one at a time and will post when I open them up again, sorry this took so long (im still reeling from Act 3 ngl but also life is catching up to me so it might be a sec)

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 2)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 1

“Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” - Lana Del Rey

They were all dead…

After we robbed a house in Piltover, the enforcers came after us. Vander said he’d handle it, leaving the bar under Vi’s and my care.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help him!” Vi paced back and forth, gripping her hair tightly.

“No, Vi. It’s too dangerous,” I said, stepping closer. “Vander will handle it. He always does.”

“This time it’s different, [Name],” she snapped, anger in her voice. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“So you’re going after him? You’re just a kid, Vi!” I raised my voice.

“What do you want me to do?” she shouted back. “Without him, we’re nothing! I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t have done anything!” I shouted, my frustration boiling over. “I knew that mission was a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t realize that was a mistake?” she yelled, her eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you think I feel guilty for all this mess?”

“Please, stop fighting!” Powder cried, clutching Mylo and Claggor, who were staring at us with worry and fear.

Vi growled, grabbed a bottle, and hurled it to the ground, the sound echoing loudly. Powder flinched and ran into my arms, sobbing.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said more calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We need to stick together now… as a family.”

Tears streamed down my face. Vi looked at us, her eyes glistening with tears, and came closer.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she whispered.

“Vi, please don’t go,” I begged, crying while still holding Powder, who looked at her sister with tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this!”

“[Name], I have to help him,” she said, hugging us with tears streaming down her face.

“Then at least let us help.”

“No. You stay here. Please, I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, pulling away and pressing her forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, feeling her breath against my face.

“Then come back to us, Vi. Promise you’ll come back.”

I opened my eyes, staring into hers.

“I promise,” she replied, and then I felt her lips against mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. It was simple, just two lips touching, but at that moment, I could swear fireworks were exploding inside me. She pulled away, smiling, and kissed Powder’s forehead.

“You four stay together. I’ll bring Vander back home. I swear it,” she promised, leaving, but not before looking back and smiling.

After some time, Mylo and Claggor went after her, insisting that Vander was their father too. I watched them leave, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see them alive.

I was torn, afraid, unsure whether I should go help or stay and care for Powder.

I wasn’t good at fighting and didn’t have any weapons.

So I decided to stay, thinking the three of them would do better on their own.

“[Name], I’m sleepy. Will you wake me up when they come back?” she asked, still in my arms.

“Of course! Don’t worry…”

She pulled away from my arms, walking toward the door at the back of the bar.

“[Name]?”

I turned to see her standing there, holding the door open and looking at me.

“I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her confession.

“I love you too, Powpow, and I’ll always be here to take care of you,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” she said with her childish voice and closed the door.

The bar was empty, but I wouldn’t close it. I wanted to show Vander that I was ready to take care of the bar while he rested.

I cleaned the counter and organized the liquor bottles. Opening the drawer where we kept all the money, I noticed a photo among the bills.

It was the six of us, years ago. It seemed like it was taken shortly after he adopted us.

I smiled, seeing how happy we looked. I hoped with all my heart that this wouldn’t end tonight.

My stomach churned at the thought. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for all of them.

After hours, my body seemed to know something had happened. Why were they taking so long to come back? What if the enforcers caught them? Should I go after them? What if something worse had—

“They’re dead,” someone said above me, cutting off my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Sevika.

“What?” A shiver ran down my spine at the possibility of it being true.

“A bomb exploded where they were and killed almost everyone. Except the blue-haired girl.”

“Powder?” I ran through the back door, searching for the girl.

I turned over the blankets, opened the cabinets where she used to hide to play tricks on us. But I couldn’t find her.

“Powder?” I yelled, opening the chest she used as a hiding spot during our games.

I began crying, realizing she wasn’t anywhere. Vi had asked me for one thing, to take care of her sister, and I couldn’t even do that.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” Sevika said behind me.

“Where is Powder?” I asked angrily. I didn’t even know who I was mad at: myself? Powder? No… not Powder. She was just a child. She probably went looking for her sister, worried. I was the irresponsible one. I should have taken care of her, especially during this delicate moment.

I had been so irresponsible.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

I followed Sevika until we reached an old building. We climbed the stairs until we arrived at a room where Powder was sobbing in Silco’s arms.

“Powder…” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“[Name]!” she ran to me, sobbing.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to hold back my own sobs.

“I just wanted to help… I promise! I didn’t know the explosion would hurt them!” Powder cried even harder, and my body froze.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Powpow! I believe you!” I hugged the girl tightly, trying to stay calm.

After a moment, Silco approached us.

“I have a proposal for you two,” he said.

“We’re not interested,” I cut him off.

“You know you can’t take care of her on your own,” he replied.

The worst part was that he was right. What was I going to do now?

The harsh reality of the situation hit me hard. We had no one else. Everyone was gone. I didn’t know what to do.

Defeated, I asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Well… my proposal is your loyalty, both of you, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need: food, clothes, protection, a home.”

“Loyalty?” I asked, confused. I didn’t think we’d be useful for anything.

“Yes. Loyalty! You’ll be useful for my business in the future.”

“We won’t be your puppets,” I said, holding Powder tighter.

“Relax, [Name]. You two will be my eyes. You’ll be my representatives. Don’t worry, you won’t do anything you don’t want to…”

I had no choice. Sighing, I replied, “Alright… I accept your proposal.”

“Good. Sevika will show you your room. I want to talk to Powder.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked angrily, holding her tighter.

“Nothing bad,” he whispered, approaching us. “She’s traumatized, [Name]. You’re just a child, and now she needs someone to take care of her… to take care of both of you.” When he got closer, his arms surrounded us.

“[Name], it’s okay! I trust him!” Powder looked at me with her red, tear-filled eyes.

“You can talk to her, but I’ll stay outside the room. When you’re done, she’ll go to the room with me.”

“Alright! You take care of yours, [Name]. That’s a good thing!”

I pulled away from the girl, pressing our foreheads together, and whispered:

“If anything happens, call me, alright?”

Sevika led me outside the room, closing the door. I felt tense, wondering what he was saying to Powder.

(POV Silco)

“Come here.” I called her, extending a chair for her to sit on. Slowly, she approached and sat down. “You care about [Name], don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied without hesitation.

“Then I need to ask you something. Something that will protect [Name].”

“What? I’ll do anything,” she said with determination.

“You can’t tell her that your sister is alive.”

“She’s not my sister anymore,” she replied angrily.

“Of course, she isn’t, but you can’t tell her that Violet is alive. Do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears while her face remained angry.

“Because Violet abandoned you. And if [Name] finds out, she’ll be very sad, and we don’t want to see [Name] sad, do we?”

“No, of course not! I want to protect [Name]!” she exclaimed.

“I want to protect her too, which is why this will be our secret.”

7 Years Later

(POV [Name])

The last few years have been hard. Losing everyone changed us. Powder no longer existed. She was Jinx now and insisted on being called that.

But it wasn’t all bad. Silco took good care of us; he gave us everything we needed.

I found Ekko after some time, but he refused to join us. Even so, I took care of him however I could.

I found out that Benzo had also died that day, leaving the little guy completely alone.

Since he wouldn’t join us, I arranged a place for him to stay and always brought him what he needed. Years later, he built his own refuge, which I kept hidden from Silco… and Jinx.

He still didn’t accept me being on Silco’s side, even after I explained my reasons. Even so, sometimes we would talk, forgetting for a moment about our differences.

Jinx didn’t want to see him. She hated talking about the past and would have breakdowns if anyone crossed the line. I still wondered if I had done enough to care for her. If Vi would be disappointed in me…

Over the years, Sevika also helped me improve my physical abilities. I hate to admit it, but she became a maternal figure to me—someone to look up to. Someone I aspired to be like.

Walking through Zaun’s streets, I saw the state of the place I grew up in. I didn’t take pride in what Silco had done, but I reminded myself that I stayed by his side for Jinx. No matter how much she had changed, she was still that little girl who cried in Vander’s arms while he helped me during that massacre caused by Piltover. She was still Powder… deep down.

I was heading toward the old Last Drop when I caught sight of pink hair in the crowd. My heart raced, and the feelings from years ago rushed back. My hands started sweating, and my legs trembled.

The crowd blocked my view of the pink-haired figure. I pushed through the people, searching frantically for that familiar color.

I checked every possible entrance and corner, but I couldn’t find her.

I must have been imagining things. Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time my mind tricked me into seeing Vi walking the streets.

Sighing, I returned to the bar’s entrance, walked in, and sat at a stool by the counter. I ordered a drink. After finishing it, I asked for another and another, until the people around me blurred.

“One more,” I slurred.

“No more, [Name],” I heard a voice beside me.

“Leave me alone,” I whispered, resting my head on the counter.

“What happened to make you like this?” the voice spoke again. I looked up, squinting to recognize the person beside me. After a moment, I realized it was Sevika.

“I miss her, Sevika. I miss her so much,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my glass.

“You need to move on, [Name]. It’s been so long,” she said, running her hand through my hair.

“I know, but everything reminds me of her,” I said, feeling something wet on my face. “Today, I saw a girl with pink hair. I was so sure it was her, but of course, it wasn’t,” I said, realizing the wetness came from my tears.

“So that’s why,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

She picked me up, slinging me over her shoulder.

[lvnleah]

joys of growing up.

find the series masterlist here!

September 2030 | 6 & 2 years old 

“Do you think Els will be okay tomorrow?” Leah asked you with a sigh as she slipped her hand underneath your shirt. “I never worried this much about Finn but Els is so attached to both of us.”

You smiled as you finished washing the dishes, “Le baby, I’m sure she’ll be fine. It’s her first day of pre-school and it’s only a few hours.”

Leah leaned her chin on your shoulder,  "I know, but it feels different this time. She's still so little. She’s only two, Finley was three."

You dried your hands, turning to face her. "I get it. It's a big step, for all of us. But we went through this with Finn, and look at him now. He loves school."

Leah chuckled softly, her thumb tracing gentle circles on your hips. "Yeah, but Finn was always more independent. Ellie…she’s our little shadow. She hates being away from us, she can just about stay at my mum's without crying.”

You turned around and kissed her forehead, pulling her close. "I know, I’m worried too but we can’t keep her with us forever, Le. She’ll be okay.”

Leah smiled but her eyes still carried a look of worry. "I hope you're right. It’s just… the thought of her being somewhere without us, even for a few hours."

"You know," you said softly, "I bet by the time we pick her up, she’ll be talking nonstop about all the new things she did. And if it’s too much for her, we’ll figure it out, together."

Leah nodded, leaning into you for a moment before pulling away to stretch. "You're right. We’ll take it one day at a time." She grinned at you. "But just so you know, you’re on snack duty for the first week. I have no clue what to take for her afterwards."

You laughed, “Deal. I’ve got some ideas to make her first days sweet.”

The next morning arrived all too quickly. You and Leah stood in the kitchen, your head cuddled into Leah’s chest as she wrapped her arms around you and leaned against the kitchen side. Finley was already up and dressed, excited about seeing all of his friends. 

Ellie, on the other hand, was not as enthusiastic. She’d been a grumpball ever since you’d woken her up earlier than usual. You’d just finished breakfast and asked her to go to her bedroom and grab her backpack. 

From the bedroom, you heard her whimpering before she even came out. Leah sighed, “Here we go."

Ellie shuffled out, clutching her stuffed bunny tightly and her backpack. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. "I don’ wanna go," she sniffled, her tiny voice wobbling with emotion.

You crouched down to her level, reaching out to gently smooth her wild morning hair. "Els, baby, it’s just for a little while. Then Mumma and I will come get you!”

She shook her head furiously, tears already welling up in her eyes. "No! I don’ wanna! I wanna stay with ’ou!" Her lower lip trembled as she clung even tighter to her bunny.

Leah knelt beside you, her face soft with understanding. "I know it feels scary, bubba girl. But school is going to be fun. You’ll get to play with toys, paint, and make new friends!”

Ellie ran into Leah’s arms and buried her face into Leah’s chest, her small body trembling with sobs. "I don’ want friends! I want ‘ou and Mummy!" Her words came out muffled, but the heartbreak in her voice was clear.

Leah rubbed soothing circles on her back before standing up with her in her arms. "We don’t have to rush this," she whispered to you, “Maybe we should wait a while.”

You bit your lip. "Let’s try today, just for a few hours. If it’s too much, we can talk to her teachers about easing her in."

Finley, who had been watching quietly, stepped forward and patted Ellie’s leg before Leah knelt down. "Hey, Els, it’s not so bad, I promise." He leaned in, placing a kiss on her temple. "You’ll have so much fun! Then you can tell me all about your day like I do with mine!”

Ellie peeked out from Leah’s chest. "No… I don’ wanna go."

Leah sighed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Why don’t we get dressed first, okay? You can wear your favourite dress and bring Bunny with you!”

Ellie nodded reluctantly, though it was clear she was far from convinced. You exchanged a knowing glance with Leah as you helped your daughter get ready, both of you preparing yourselves for a tough morning ahead.

When it was time to leave, Ellie was still clinging to you, her small hand wrapped tightly around your finger. Finley skipped ahead, holding his backpack, while Leah held Ellie’s other hand. 

“Finley, don’t forget your lunchbox!” You called out, glancing over your shoulder as you tried to wrestle Ellie into her tiny pink coat.

Finley gave you a thumbs-up. “Got it, Mummy!” He said, ”I’m ready to go!”

Ellie, on the other hand, wasn’t. She stood in the middle of the living room, her small arms crossed defiantly. “I not going, Mummy,” she declared, her voice rising in protest.

Leah knelt down beside her. “Eloise don’t raise your voice to Mummy okay? That's not nice. You’ll have fun, I promise,” she said, trying her best to sound encouraging. 

“Sorry Mumma. No fun,” Ellie replied, her face scrunched up in a pout. 

“Let’s just get Finley to school first,” Leah suggested, and you nodded in agreement.

You gathered the kids up in the car before heading to Finley’s school. You said your goodbyes to him and he walked straight in with no fuss with his friends. 

Leah then drove to the preschool and as you approached, Ellie slowed her steps, her face scrunching up as she realised where you were headed. "No! I don’ wanna go in!" she cried, tugging at your hand in desperation.

You knelt down, pulling her into a hug. "Just for a little bit, Els. We’ll stay with you until you’re ready, okay?"

Ellie sobbed into your shoulder, her small body trembling. Leah bent down beside you, rubbing Ellie’s back gently. "We’ll be right outside, Bubba girl. And if it gets too scary, we’ll come get you."

The door to the preschool opened, and a kind-looking teacher stepped out with a welcoming smile. "Hi, you must be Ellie! We’ve got some toys inside and a story ready to read. Do you want to say bye to your mums and come with me?

Ellie peeked over your shoulder, her tears still flowing but her curiosity piqued just enough to look.

You whispered in her ear, “Let’s take a little peek inside together, okay? And if you don’t like it, we’ll come right back out.”

She sniffled and nodded hesitantly, still holding tightly to you and Leah as you both guided her toward the door. As soon as her little eyes saw the classroom, she bursted out crying once again and this time clung to Leah’s legs. 

Leah crouched down and scooped Ellie into her arms, "Shh, it’s okay, Bubba. We’re right here."

The teacher approached gently, bending down to Ellie’s level. “I know it’s scary, but you can bring your bunny with you, and if you want, we can sit together and draw. Do you like to draw?”

Ellie looked at her, still crying but slightly intrigued by the mention of drawing. Leah rubbed her back soothingly, "You love drawing, don’t you, Els? Why don’t you try it for a little while? Mummy and I will be back soon, just like we always are. You could draw something for Finn!”

Ellie slowly nodded as she clutched her bunny tighter. Her eyes darted between you and Leah, her little face still wet with tears. "You back soon? Promise?"

You knelt beside them both, brushing a stray tear from Ellie’s cheek. "We promise, baby. We’ll be back before you even have time to miss us."

Ellie hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded. Leah gently handed her over to the teacher, who smiled warmly as she took Ellie’s small hand. "Come on, Ellie. Let’s go see what we can draw together! You can tell me all about your big brother and what you want to draw!”

As Ellie walked inside, her hand still clutching Bunny, she glanced back at you and Leah one last time, her expression a mix of fear and trust. You both waved, forcing reassuring smiles despite the heaviness in your hearts.

Once she was sat down, you and Leah quickly made your way outside before Ellie could change her mind. "That was harder than I thought it would be." Leah sighed. 

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. "I know, I feel bad for leaving her!”

Leah nodded against your shoulder, "I just hope she’s okay in there. I hate leaving her like that."

"We’ll keep an eye on the time," you said softly. "If she’s really struggling, we’ll come back early. But she needs this.”

Leah pulled back slightly, "You’re right. What the hell do we do now with no kids?”

You laughed, brushing a kiss against her forehead. "No clue, we ain’t been kid-free in six years.”

Leah chuckled softly as you made your way to the car, "Feels weird, don’t it? Like we’re missing something.”

You smiled. "Definitely. I half expect Ellie to shout for me or you any second.”

Leah let out a long breath, squeezing your hand. "Maybe we should go grab some breakfast? Distract ourselves a little?"

You nodded, glancing at your watch. "Yeah, we’ve got a couple of hours. Let’s make the most of it."

The two of you drove to a nearby café, the air feeling lighter without the usual chaos of the kids. Sitting down at a small table by the window, you ordered coffee and breakfast, though the conversation kept circling back to Ellie.

"Do you think she's stopped crying?" Leah asked absentmindedly.

You took a sip of your tea before answering, "I hope so. But it’s her first day— it might take a little while."

Leah sighed. "She’s so sensitive, so different from Finn. He just took everything in stride. But Els…she feels everything so deeply."

You reached across the table, taking her hand. "She’ll find her way, just like Finn did. And we’ll be right there to help her if she needs us."

Leah smiled at that, her thumb brushing over your knuckles. "We always are. I just hate seeing her so upset."

"I know," you said softly. "But it’s part of growing up, for her and us. It’s hard, but we’ll get through it."

Leah nodded, her gaze drifting out the window as the sun started to break through the clouds. "You’re right. Maybe by the time we pick her up, she’ll be telling us about the new friends she made or the pictures she drew."

You smiled, imagining Ellie’s little face lighting up as she shared her stories. "I bet she will. And if not, well, we’ll try again tomorrow."

Leah squeezed your hand. "Yeah. One day at a time."

“It feels so silent without the kids.” You laughed, “I keep panicking that I've lost them.”

Leah smiled, “Maybe we should have another bubba.”

You stared at Leah, momentarily caught off guard by her suggestion. "Another baby?" you repeated, your voice soft with surprise. “I don’t think I can handle pregnancy again, Le.”

Leah laughed, but there was a trace of seriousness in her eyes. "Yeah... I mean, I know we’re just now sending Ellie to preschool, but..." She paused, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "I don’t know, maybe it’s the silence today, or maybe I just miss having a little one around."

You couldn’t help but chuckle, leaning back in your chair as you processed her words. "Are you sure you're ready to go through all of that again? The sleepless nights, the diapers, the crying?"

Leah’s eyes sparkled as she shrugged. "Well, we survived it with Finn and Ellie. Plus, we make a pretty good team. I’m more than happy to carry.”

You bit your lip, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. "It sounds kinda nice when you put it like that." You met Leah’s gaze, both of you grinning now. "It's not like we’re in a rush to decide anything today. If you’re ready to carry then I think it’ll work.”

Leah nodded thoughtfully. "No, we’re not in a rush. But it’s something to think about. Maybe... just maybe, we’ll have another little one to chase around the house soon enough." 

You smiled, feeling that familiar mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "It’s definitely something to think about."

Leah leaned forward, her eyes softening as she kissed the back of your hand. "Whatever we decide, we’ll figure it out. Just like always."

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the tension easing between you both. "So, breakfast first... and then maybe we’ll start making plans for another little Bubba?"

Leah winked at you, her grin playful. "Sounds like a plan to me."

As you finished your breakfast, the thought of having a little quiet time together felt both strange and comforting. For once, the house wouldn’t be filled with the usual noise, and you both could steal a few rare moments of peace before diving back into the whirlwind of parenting. 

But as you walked back to the car, you couldn’t help but feel a tug in your chest, wondering how Ellie was doing, hoping she was adjusting to her new world, one step at a time.

The hours seemed to crawl by, even though you and Leah tried to make the most of your rare kid-free morning. As the time to pick up Ellie finally arrived, you both drove to the preschool, both of you still worried about Ellie. 

Leah glanced over at you as you pulled into the parking lot. “Think she made it through without too much trouble?”

You shrugged, giving her a small smile. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

The two of you walked up to the door, hand in hand. As soon as Ellie spotted you from across the room, her face lit up, and she came running over with Bunny in one hand and a crumpled piece of paper in the other.

“Mummy! Mumma!” she called out excitedly, her earlier tears long forgotten.

Leah knelt and scooped her up into her arms. “Hey, Bubba girl! Look at you! How was your first day?”

Ellie smiled brightly, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “It was fun! I played wiv toys and drawed a picture!” She held up the paper for you to see, a colourful scribble of what looked like her, you, Leah, and Finley. “Dis is us!”

You crouched beside them, admiring her artwork. “Wow, it’s beautiful, Els. Did you have fun with your new friends?”

Ellie’s smile widened as she nodded eagerly, but then her face turned serious for a moment. “But Mummy, my most favourite part…” She paused dramatically, looking between you and Leah.

Leah raised an eyebrow, curious. “What was your favourite part, bubba?”

Ellie leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper, “It was crying.”

You blinked, sharing a surprised glance with Leah. “Crying?”

Ellie nodded enthusiastically. “Uh-huh! I cried and cried ‘cause I missed you. I hate it here!”

Leah looked at you, eyes wide with confusion. “You cried a lot?”

Ellie nodded, completely earnest. “Lots!”

Just then, Ellie’s teacher walked over with a smile. “Well, I have to say, Ellie did so well today! No tears at all after you left. She was a little quiet at first, but once we started playing and drawing, she settled right in.”

You and Leah exchanged incredulous looks before Leah burst out laughing. “Els, you didn’t cry at all?”

Ellie frowned, looking confused. “But I wanted to cry…”

You couldn’t help but laugh too, pulling her into a hug. “You’re so funny, Els. I’m so proud of you for being brave!”

Ellie looked paused for a moment. “Well... next time I cry, okay?”

Leah kissed her cheek, still grinning. “You can cry if you need to, bubba girl. But we’re so glad you had fun!”

[inmyheaddd]

walkin out the door with your bags — grayson hawthorne x reader — part 7

⤷ “pour your glass of wine // mitchell told me i should be just fine,”

summary: you and grayson haven’t talked in a while, and things stir up in the world around you and in your mind. luckily, you have the best best friend by your side. wc: 2.0k a/n: hey siri.. play two people by gracie abrams… (said sadly) series masterlist — other parts

previously on part 6…

“he looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing before he finally settled on just staying silent.

you still felt like there was a million unspoken words that needed to be said, but you turned and walked away. 

for once, you didn’t wait to see if he’d try again.

you willed your feet to move and not think about how he looked behind you, because if you did, even for a second, you had a feeling you’d turn right back.”

—

it had been a few weeks since you and grayson stopped talking. yeah— weeks. that was the longest you had gone without talking to him since you’ve known him. isn’t that strange?

it was driving you crazy, the amount of times you saw something that reminded you of him, or your friendship, and you wanted to send it to him, only to remember you couldn’t. you weren’t friends, and you had him blocked on basically everything.

or the amount of times you saw something only the two of you would understand, something that would’ve made you laugh, and just feel saddened by it. it felt like your memories were split between the two of you. 

there was a thing that was even stranger, though— he had started seeing someone. 

at least that’s what it looked like, with the posts she’d put on her social media. she had posted a picture of the back of a blonde head you could recognize anywhere in-front of the sunset, and one of her walking with someone holding her shopping bags— and the hand had the faintest scar on it’s thumb, it was almost impossible to notice. and it was a scar that only you knew the backstory to. 

there was that— and the countless paparazzi photos online— ‘grayson hawthorne’s possible new girlfriend? the mysterious blonde hawthorne has a new hot date! grayson and his interesting new friend ella spotted in…’ it was sickening. 

he would go to extreme lengths to never have paparazzi find you back when you hung out. always in quiet, secluded areas. you never thought much of it before, but now it looked like it had a whole new meaning.

was he embarrassed? did he not want to be seen with you? did he— you off your thoughts before you spiraled.

she was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny it.

and the worst part? she was an absolute sweetheart. there wasn’t a single reason to hate her.

you hated yourself more for even looking for a reason to. 

the thing is though, he was never yours. sure, he wiped the tears off of your cheeks when you cried, gave you the kisses you could only dream of, confided in you about things he didn’t tell his family, and he was your best friend. but he was never simply just yours.

besides, you were the one who made sure that any chance of you happening was gone permanently. he asked to talk, and you talked. then you went home crying. 

this was grayson you were talking about: if he wanted something, he found a way to get it. that being said, if he wanted to be with you, or even just still be your friend, he would’ve said something. 

he didn’t. 

if ella was what he wanted, then you just had to deal with it.

you weren’t ever like this, you promised yourself you would never be that girl. green and sick with jealousy, questioning her own self worth. 

but hey, you promised each other you’d be there for each other always, did you not? seems like promises didn’t mean all that much anymore. 

—

“you don’t get it, gigi.” you exclaimed frustratedly as you wiped your angry tears away. 

you had just stormed out of a club you were at with your friends. the bustling music and bright flashing lights stopped again as the door shut behind gigi, after she ran after you. the music could still be heard slightly, but it was muffled heavily behind the door.

your friends wanted you to go kiss random guys, drink until you couldn’t feel anything, and for a few days, you did. and it almost worked, but it just made you feel horrible now. a few of them even made crude jokes about grayson and ella.

you didn’t feel like yourself— you didn’t even like yourself. how could you ever expect grayson to?

“he just doesn’t care if i look pretty, or if i’m doing better, or any of these other things.” you pointed out exaggeratedly, knowing you were taking it out on the wrong person, but you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“you know what?” you said through a cruel chuckle. “the worst part is that he would probably be happy for me that i’m moving on, or looking better, being myself, or whatever the hell you guys say i should do.” 

you gestured to the door of the buildings where the rest of your friends sat, frustration running all the way to your fingertips.

“he wouldn’t get jealous.” you said, angry at yourself that you got jealous. “he’s a good person, and that’s why it hurts so much. that’s why i’m ‘not over it in 2 weeks like i usually am.’” you continued, almost choking on your words by now. 

you were so angry that all your friends expected you to just get over it. they don’t know what its like to feel that kind of love one day, and find out the other person didn’t even think of you like that.

to find out that he thought of someone else like that. 

and somehow, even through the pounding of your ears and burning throat, you had even more to say. 

“he’s surrounded by pretty girls every day, gigi, the only difference is he actually wants to be with one, and it’s not me. and that’s fine.” you put on your most level voice, and after a moment added, “it has to be fine.” 

you sniffled, and decided from then on you were not going to let grayson hawthorne, or more so the lack of him, dictate your life for a second longer.

gigi stood there wide eyes, her mouth opening to speak, then shutting. then opening again, then shutting. “i…” she managed, and your heart almost tore as you noticed her eyes were glossy now. 

fuck, you messed up. 

“geeg,” you took a tentative step towards her, the nickname coming out before you could even think. you held out a hand as if to stop her from moving, “wait, gigi—“

“— no, i’m sorry. i messed everything up.” she shook her head apologetically as she looked at you, her voice breaking, and in turn breaking your heart. “i— you guys were perfect friends before. and i, i— i ruined it all by trying to play matchmaker.” 

“what?” you breathed out, rapidly shaking your head. “no no no, none of this is your fault. you didn’t do anything, i was stupid, and he kissed me. those were our choices, you didn’t force anything— i didn’t mean to take it out on you. you did nothing wrong gigi,”

“stop,” she said through a forced laugh, bringing herself to smile. you knew it was a fake one, and she knew you knew. but she kept on smiling anyway. 

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say that.” she spoke through a laugh, a bleak contrast to the pained expression on her face. it was tearing your soul by the second. she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand harshly. 

“i should’ve just left everything alone.” gigi tore here eyes away from you, and to the ground. “why do i never leave anything alone?“ she exhaled through a sad laugh. you noticed she started to talk faster, and more so speaking to herself. you picked up on her hands fiddling with themselves, then she toyed with the hem of her shirt. 

“no, gigi, look at me.” you waited until her wide blue eyes locked on yours, her wet lashes clumped together. “you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i did though, and now gray isn’t acting like himself, you’re not okay, and i’m the worst best friend and sister in the world.” 

“gigi,” you gave her a sympathetic look as your shoulders sagged. you couldn’t begin to think about how you could express how much you loved her.

you pulled her into a hug, and her arms stayed glued to her sides for a moment, before finally hugging you back 10x harder. 

you screwed your eyes shut as you felt her cry on your shoulder. 

“geeg, you have no idea how light my life got the second you entered it,” you mumbled into the hug. “and, i mean— so what if me and grayson aren’t friends anymore? that doesn’t matter, not as much as your friendship matters.”

gigis breathing slowed, and she was sniffling now. the thing that mattered was that she wasn’t crying. 

you continued, “he’s not the one i dance with late at night and watch shitty reality tv with in bed the next morning. he’s not the one who i laugh wicker the stupidest things with for hours on end. he’s not the person i text first when something happens. he’s not my best friend.” 

not anymore, and he probably never would be ever again.

you felt gigi laugh sadly through a sniffle, still on your shoulder. she was silent for a long moment. then she mumbled, “we’re pretty damn amazing, aren’t we?” she lifted her head and looked at you. 

“yeah, we sort of are.” you smiled at her, watching as she wiped her tears and took a deep breath in. 

“you know,” she mumbled, “i really really hate my brother.” she said as she straightened her clothes, exhaling a long breath as she shook her head. 

“yeah,” you sighed, lying straight through your teeth. “me and you both.” 

you more so hated him because you couldn’t really hate him. not fully hate him, anyway. 

gigi let the lie slide straight through, changing the subject with a laugh as she leaned forward and fluffed up your hair. 

“let’s get inside before we get hypothermia.” she took your hand and led you to the door, “our outfits are not built for the cold.” 

“oh, yeah. i know that’s for sure.” you laughed, faking shivering and clattering your teeth. you followed gigi into the doors of the music and bright lights.

for once, you actually looking forward to the night you had ahead of you. 

because, you knew you and gigi would grab your purses and go straight home, rewatch your favorite movies until sunrise, and then spend the day dancing to your favorite songs with your favorite person. and repeat until you ran out of baked goods and coffee. 

that was what healing was. to you at least.

—

“okay but like,” gigi said, before popping another marshmallow in her mouth. 

“have you seen yourself? it’s like, your eyes like— hold the secrets to the universe in them.” she swore solemnly, raising her eyebrows for added effect. “i could look in them forever and eveeerrrrr.”

she tilted her head, eyes widening as she dragged the last word; looking like she was in a hypnotized state.

“gigi, stop.” you laughed as you felt your face redden, pushing her shoulder away.

“sorry,” she didn’t let her act slip up for a single second. “i’m just a little mesmerized right now.” 

“you’re not funny,” the laugh threatening to break out said otherwise. 

“just give me a moment. i’m just committing this scene to memory so i’ll see you in my dreams,” her voice was all robot-like, she always knew how to cheer you up in the most ridiculous ways. “the day isn’t enough time—“

“shut up,” you giggled, hiding your face as gigi leaned back, throwing her head back in laughter.

you shook your head, rubbing your eyes as you continued to chuckle. once you’d both settled down, gigi spoke again, more serious this time.

she leaned her head back on the couch, looking at you fondly. “i’m sorry my brother is a d1 douche bag. if he had a dollar every time he was literally the worst person ever, he’d be richer than avery.” 

you managed a small laugh. “tell me about it,” you said, then after a moment of giggles, you spoke again. “i love you more, geeg. way more than you know.”

—

it was bordering between late night and early morning when you woke up. gigi’s limbs were strewn across the king-sized bed you lay on. you could hear her soft snores. 

you turned over and gave her a glance, and her hair was all over the place in the most endearing, gigi way. 

she’s going to struggle with that tomorrow, you thought. you laughed to yourself, before reaching over blindly for your phone, the notifications of which you forgot to silence, being the whole reason you were awake now. 

2:32 the time read, and you scrolled down to read your notifications. 

your smile faded faster than you could ever imagine. there was a crater in your chest, and a hole in your stomach.

earlier notifications:

**A blocked number wants to message you. Accept?**

— I’m sorry. — I’ve made many mistakes in my life. I can’t let losing you be another. 

**Tap here to delete this message, and all previous conversation.**

a/n: gigi my girl ☹️ sorry for the recent influx of angst help idk what happened taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10  @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @moonnsstruckksworld @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm 

@goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington

[uselesseaweedbrain]

Supercorptober - 15. Scotch

A strong smell of scotch permeates the air, and the usually put together CEO is slumped over her tabletop, head falling on her shoulder from exhaustion, eyes damp, her flawless black mane falling in messy strands of jet around her face.

“Lena?!”

“Hey. What news from the front?” Lena asks in a disinterested tone that Kara has never heard her use with her.

“Nothing yet.”

Lena tips her glass once again, wetting her lips with alcohol before looking up at Kara despondently.

“You know- you’re terrible at hiding things from me.”

Guilt lodges into Kara’s throat, and her confession is so low that Lena doesn’t even pick up on it. 

“Heh”, she mutters. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Kara takes in a deep breath, her lungs tight as Lena stays silent. 

“I came to let you know that I’m not done. Not by a long shot. Until we know for sure, I will turn over every rock, and-“

Lena lifts a tired hand, her eyes welling with tears again. “Just- Just stop.”

Lena Luthor sounds miserable and defeated. Kara reels.

“You’re one of the strongest women I know, Lena! Why aren’t you fighting?”

“Because I did it! I did it.”

There’s finality in Lena’s tone, and Kara bristles.

Lena is so ready to believe in her own guilt, so ready to take the blame upon herself like a familiar blanket-

“There’s still a chance it wasn’t you.“

Lena is looking at her now, her blue-green dilated pupils fixed on Kara, and Kara can’t look away.  

“I know that you believe that everything is good, and kind, and that is one of the things that I love about you- but- that’s not the real world.”

Kara chuckles darkly - it’s funny that Lena thinks she knows her so well, when she couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You’re wrong.”

Lena scoffs.

“No- about- about me. You’re wrong. Believing in good, in kindness- it’s a fight, Lena, and if you think this comes naturally to me, you’re wrong, because-“

Lena’s gaze is still, on her, expectant, but Kara is frozen.

“Because I-“

Words burn like acid in her throat.

“Because I’m the one to blame”, she breathes out. 

Lena’s eyes widen even further. “No, Kara, I won’t let you do that. Stop. Just-”

Kara ignores the interruption, barreling on before she loses her nerve, before she goes back to being scared and silent and hiding while her friend bares her soul to her.

"When I pressed that button, and sent Mon El away- I didn't really hesitate. His life against countless others’, the decision was so clear-“

Kara pauses and fleers bitterly.

"Then Kal came, and said, full of awe and admiration" - Kara almost spits the last words out - " Kal said I was stronger than him."

A wet chuckle.

"He said if he'd been in my place, and it had been the woman he loved instead of Mon-El- he wouldn't have been able to do it."

“Kara, you- you didn't press the button. Supergirl did. I saw her."

An exhale. Then:

"Yeah."

Lena's face crumbles, and Kara buries her nails into her palm.

"That moment- that's when I realised how selfish I was. How self-important I could be, deluding myself into thinking I was a hero, while I had never had to wager what really mattered. Because, the truth is- the sole reason I could press that button was that it was only Mon-El. If it had been Alex- or if it had been-"

Kara cuts herself off.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it. And I don't think I deserve any praise for throwing Mon-El's life away, for scaling people's value in my head, or for playing God when I can barely decide my own fate."

"So, if anyone should be held accountable? It's me, Lena. And if we have to deal with the consequences of you saving everyone, again, and getting none of the credit and all of the blame- this time, we will shoulder that burden. Together.”

Tears are running freely over Lena's cheeks, and Kara reaches out hesitantly, Lena instinctively inclining her head towards Kara's extended palm.

Lena shivers when Kara's warm fingertips stroke her cheek, closes her eyes as Kara wipes her tears with her thumb and moves her hand to the mess of raven hair.

Lena's loose mane is smooth, like silk, and Kara's fingers scratch her scalp gently, rhythmically, erasing her frown and the downturn of her lips and a chunk of the guilt on her shoulders. 

Kara's other hand joins the first, massaging the crown of Lena's head, and Lena doesn't seem on the verge of breaking anymore.

Lena, who always holds all the power, Lena, who won't bow or beg even Supergirl, Lena, over-independent and self-assured, Lena, has surrendered to Kara's touch.

The veil has lifted, and Lena looks so young and so innocent and oh, has no one ever cared for her that way?

"Let me take you to bed", Kara whispers, gathering Lena in her arms gingerly, as if she's made of glass - solid and sturdy until it is hit too hard, and cracks and falls apart, all at once.

Lena's head lolls against her chest and presses against her clavicle, her loose strands tickling Kara's neck, and Kara breathes in a strange mix of scotch and Lena's perfume, hears the oh so familiar heartbeat, feels the feather-light weight of something precious in her arms, and- after all the destruction that they've wrought- is it unfair that Kara can suddenly breathe?

[athing4actors]

Cherry|R. Cameron

Summary: There’s a new European girl on the island.

warnings!: black!reader X rafe cameron, cursing, reader has an accent, reader’s first time in the states

“Kids!”

The Cameron’s hear their dad’s voice echo through their large house as they get ready for an important event.

The three children make their way to the main room.

“Yeah?” Sarah speaks as Wheezie, her younger sister, and Rafe, her older brother, follow behind her.

“Our neighbors have a guest” Rose says “Ok? What’s that gotta do with me?” Rafe scoffs

She ignores his attitude.

“It’s their niece and she’s new to the island, so be nice” Rose warns “That’s it? Why would we be rude” Sarah chuckles “The message was more so for Rafe” Ward sighs

The families make it to said important event which was held annually, as Sarah broke off to go find her friends (friends that Rafe and most kooks hated) and Wheezie stayed glued to their father’s hip, Rafe went to find his two best friends.

On his short journey across the nicely decorated ball room he ran into a rather small figure.

“Ow! What the hell!” Rafe backed up to make sure his suit was untouched with stains and other debris

The person, which he noticed was a short girl, did not speak.

Rafe thought she was cute—her chocolate skin, big curly hair that fit her perfectly , the white thigh length dress she chose to wear which was sort of asymmetrical towards the end and had a low cut at her chest, and her white kitten heels matched perfectly.

“What? Can’t speak?” Rafe bitterly said

The girl began to stutter “Je suis désolé!” The girl frantically apologizes with her French accent that reminded Rafe a lot of Lily-Rose Depp

“What?” He pondered “Is that what sorry means? Listen I don’t have time for your bullshit” He sounds fed up and begins walking away “Wait!” The mystery girl with the French accent reached for his bicep, which did not fail to stop Rafe in his tracks

“I’m new! My name is y/n DuPont, I moved here from France” She explains “I just didn’t know the English word to apologize to you! I’m mostly fluent!” She frantically explained as though she was frightened of Rafe

“I’m not gonna kill you, I’m Rafe” Rafe assured her “Right?” She gave a confused nod “So France hun?” He sniffled as she nodded

“Like Mon Cherry and shit like that” Rafe sat at the nearest chair “Mon chérie? It means darling” She corrected “Ok, Cherry” Rafe sighs “Chérie” she corrects his butchered pronunciation “I like Cherry better” he smirks before rising from his chair and returning to his mini quest to find his friends

Towards the end of the night the families are all preparing to leave.

“Kids!” The Cameron children hear their father call for them and they appear one by one

“This is Mr. and Mrs. DuPont’s guest, their niece, y/n” Ward introduces “Cherry? You’re the DuPont’s niece?” Rafe asked with a dazed look to which she nods “You two met?” Wheezie asks “Apparently, and he gave her a nickname” Sarah gags “I’m Sarah! We should hang out sometime” The kind blonde offered

“Sure!” Y/n’s accented voice happily accepted the invitation “yeah totally! Let’s hang” Rafe nodded “that didn’t include you” Sarah scoffed at her older brother’s advances and began to leave with Wheezie following

“I’d love to “hang” Rafe” Y/n giggles

Rafe liked that he could make her giggle. He liked it a lot.

“Really, Cherry” Rafe smirked as she nodded “good girl” he accepts

Y/n giggles and makes her escape to her uncles car “Cherry” I whispers her new nickname

[thatturtleleon]

TFP Panic Attack Help (x reader)

quick note: personally i experience both panic and anxiety attacks, theyre vry scary, but they always pass. i hope this offers some comfort to anyone reading!

Optimus:

i feel like he gets them too

imo he definitely has anxiety and with the stress of being the leader/a prime, its gotta be overwhelming

he notices your sudden change in demeanor

grows concerned seeing you become pale and shaky

and asks if you are alright and if he should get Ratchet

if you can't speak or refuse his offer to get the medic, he'll stay with you

he's concerned but has a good idea of whats going on

if you're experiencing derealization of some sort or have a hard time focusing, he's very patient

will definitely know at least a few grounding techniques

does them with you too

worried but overall very calm and will say with you until you're feeling better

Ratchet:

100% knows how to deal with panic attacks

that being said, you're human and he's not as confident with his medical skills with humans

he's not just gonna sit there and do nothing though

very concerned, scans you, makes sure you're sitting down in a safe spot

once he figures out whats going on he's focusing on calming you down and grounding you

reassures you're safe multiple times

once you've calmed down he'll ask questions on what triggered the attack, if you have a history of them, what he can do to help better, etc.

a bajillion questions but also makes sure not to cause you any more stress

makes sure you at least got some water afterwards

Arcee:

yupp she knows whats happening too

still a little panicked herself at first thinking you're sick or injured

once she realizes whats happening she helps you sit down

grounding exercises and reassures nothing is going to hurt you

if you're ok with it, she'll begin talking about stories, good memories, anything that might distract you from your current condition

i think she'd range from talking about funny moments with the team to giving a heartfelt story of her and Cliffjumper

once you've calmed, she tells you that you did a good job and she's always there for you

she'd wanna know if there was a specific trigger or if these tend to just happen

if its PTSD related, she understands and later researches some techniques and healthy ways to cope for humans

Bulkhead:

he lowkey thinks you're dying and freaks out, but keeps it as calm as possible on the outside

if Ratchet's there he goes to get him and still stays with you, but if not, he makes sure you sit down first

depends how severe it is, but if you're hyperventilating he's focusing on getting that taken care of first

stays with you the whole time and doesn't leave for a second

he'll hand you any comfort items, water, etc. literally ANYTHING that'll help you feel better (he may spill the water but its ok because he's trying)

talks about times with him and Wheeljack or Miko as a distraction

even after you're feeling better, he's staying with you and making sure you're ok, and if you're not, thats ok too, he's still there

Bumblebee:

he probably freaks out the most out of all of them, but he understands what's happening pretty fast

helps you sit down and stays

offers to drive you around (as long as you find it relaxing)

mainly sits there with you quietly offering his support, but if it's to the point where you genuinely need someone's help, he goes to get Ratchet or someone (he still stays with you tho)

if you need a distraction, he'll chat away about something or turn on the TV in the base

of course he lets you hug him if you want to, he'll never step away first, letting you be the one to let go first

[majaloveschris]

I hate that lisa is now trolling too/

No secret that Lisa has always been involved in Chris’ fandom. He had said it himself years ago that she would get heavily involved and read everything and would even respond to people. I think he even said it was embarrassing and told her she needed to stop. I understand that’s her child, but he was grown when he started in the industry and she needed to let him be and let his team handle things. Her getting involved will never beat the super mama’s boy image it always gave me. Nonetheless, even now with her liking certain comments, it doesn’t help. If anything it makes her look worse and ignorant to the situation as well as ignorant and intro how true fans really feel. She just needs to stay away from social media on that level. Even her ig brio said “social media scares me” but I highly doubt that with how she has always behaved online, past and present included.

I understand that she wants to protect her son. No matter how long he's been in this industry, no matter how old he is, he will always be her son, and she probably doesn't like what others have to say about him. It's all normal, but I don't think she should get this involved, because this doesn't really help Chris at all. 

I agree that people shouldn't bully or harass people, especially not on the level some people do it. I also agree that people shouldn't hate someone just because they are married to someone they are a fan of. 

What I don't like is that it feels like they are feeding this narrative that fans just made up those things about her and the only reason people don't like her is because she is kind of married to Chris. I'm not saying there aren't people who wouldn't hate her even if she was the best person in this world, but we shouldn't act like she is perfect and that those things people are bringing up aren't real issues. She is not a good person; neither are her friends, and they can try to trick themselves and others into thinking it's not the main reason why people dislike her, but it is. 

[mc-lukanette]

Thanks. I should be there in five minutes.

The reply came a few seconds later.

Okay! I'll keep an ear out for you!

Near the end of those five minutes, Luka was still dashing down the sidewalk, mentally cursing himself for daring to almost be late. They didn't have any particular plans and he'd only really said it as a guess that didn't mean much, but he could just imagine Marinette standing by the door with her hearing trained intensely on it.

It would've been cute if he wouldn't have felt bad for it.

He knew it wasn't technically his fault. He'd nearly been recognized and she tended to be his safe place to go to, but then most of the detours he knew of had him running into more risk. Hiding his hair and the lower half of his face apparently weren't enough anymore to stop people from doing a double take at him.

Maybe he'd been in this place for too long on his break, but she was there. He simply didn't want to leave, not if it meant losing the "rock star's safe haven," as he called it in his head.

Footsteps still pounding as he ran, he was within arm's reach of the door when it flew open. Without a word, he slipped inside and Marinette shut it behind him. He let himself breathe, pushing his hood up and pulling his face mask down.

Sighing in relief, he said, “You're a lifesaver, as always,”

She laughed him off. “You don't have to go that far.”

“But I do,” he replied. “You're risking a lot letting me hide here. If anyone finds out you're doing it—”

“Stop.“ She raised a hand, turning her face away from him with a faint blush. “It's really not a big deal.”

He pouted a bit, but let the praise go for the time being. He understood, on some level, that she'd done it before for other famous people she knew (the people he'd have to thank if he ever met them, since it led to him meeting her), but it didn't make it any less special.

Not to him, anyway.

Marinette, strolling across the room and waving a hand at all the seating in the living room, asked without looking back at him, “You want any snacks?”

Any kind of food sounded good after the running he did. “Please. Anything's fine.”

As she left the room, he went and plopped himself down on the recliner, going about removing the hoodie he'd been using to keep himself hidden. He also took off the face mask entirely and set them both neatly on the table.

She returned from the kitchen a moment later, tossing a bag of chips at him and sitting down on the couch with one of her own. She popped it open, then hesitated before asking him, “Do you like soup?”

He nodded impulsively, though he honestly was neutral to it overall. “Why?”

“I was gonna make some later, and I—” She made an unreadable gesture. “—I bought too many ingredients when I was at the store, so there'd be leftovers if you didn't have any.”

Huh. Luka didn't doubt that she could've made a mistake on her mental shopping list, but more of all of her ingredients sounded too odd to be a mistake. He could've sworn as well that she'd told him how much she didn't like leftovers, back when she'd ramble about her creative process and forcing herself to take a break by cooking or baking something everyday.

Unless, of course, Marinette had intentionally prepared to make more because of him, in which case he wasn't lying anymore about liking soup.; it just so happened to have shot up on his list of appealing foods all of a sudden.

“We can't have that,” he said with a grin, opening the chip bag in his hands. “Do you mind me staying that long?”

“Not at all!” she insisted. She dug into her own bag and pulled out a single chip, telling him before she put it in her mouth, “Besides, I want to catch up. Have you come up with any new music?”

“No—” He caught himself, realizing it was the instinctive answer he'd been giving to anyone involved with his rock star life, then corrected to, “Nothing I want out there.”

“Oh.” She leaned back, thoughtful. “I get it. Sometimes I make something just for me without wanting to put it out there. I didn't know it worked the same for music.”

He tried not to be obvious about the hearts in his eyes he was throwing her way. She just got him so easily and he did the same for her. He didn't have that many creative people in his life, but even those he did have saw creativity as something so casual. He cared dearly for his sister's wife, for example, yet knew that the finer nuances of creating things went over her head.

Marinette hummed, somewhat disconcerted. “You're not in any... trouble, are you?” She pouted, twisting a corner of the chip bag to the point it formed wrinkles. “I know how much people think we can just rush the process.”

He smiled, appreciating the concern, and shrugged at her. ”They do want me to get back out there, but I'm not going to force it.”

There was a flicker of what he was fairly sure was disappointment in her eyes when he mentioned touring again. He didn't comment on it, but silently hoped he'd caught it correctly and it wasn't just him.

Reaching into his bag for a few chips, he took one between his lips and tipped his head back, opening his mouth to send the chip fully in from the momentum. He chewed, swallowed, then gave a half-hearted chuckle. “Or maybe I'll just retire.”

“Wha—?” Marinette was so shocked that her tightened grip on the bag audibly crushed a couple of poor chips. “Retire?”

Luka had never said it aloud to anyone before, but he had been thinking about it for a few months now. At first, it was more like a joke to himself, an amusing musing on if he did quit and how much chaos that would've spread across the world from the suddenness of it. Then, it became more serious the more he joked about it, thinking about how free he would be and how much he wouldn't have to wither away like whenever he was forced to make something he genuinely wasn't invested in. He thought it would be easier when he initially started out, that he could just create and wouldn't have to bear witness to parts of himself he didn't like.

In what should've been obvious to him, it hadn't ended up that way. He glanced over to check Marinette's reaction and, rather than any displeasure with the idea, she appeared sad for him.

“I didn't know it was that bad,” she admitted. “I thought you just didn't like people recognizing you in your off time.”

“I don't, but it's everything else too,” he explained. Giving her a reassuring smile, he added, “And you couldn't have known. I've never told anyone else before.”

Her cheeks turned to his favorite shade of pink. She averted her eyes to her chips, taking another couple into her mouth and chewing them as she thought over what he'd said. Letting out a small, puzzled noise in the back of her throat, she finally asked the obvious, “Why haven't you yet? Retired, I mean.”

He'd finished the other chips in his hand by then and set the bag aside to focus fully on her. “I... don't have that many places to go. I live on my own, so it'd be hard to not go out. I'd just get recognized all over again, and my sister's famous and married, so I can't stay with her while I wait for everything to die down.”

As much as he would've liked it to be simple, it wasn't. Also, while he wouldn't have told Marinette as much directly, he wouldn't have wanted to give up on their time together. It might've been a little selfish of him, but—

“What if you stayed with me?” she blurted out, turning her body and leaning onto the arm of the couch to face him.

He opened his mouth, almost instantly saying “yes,” but stopped himself to ask, “...What?”

She pushed against the couch with the hand not holding her bag of chips, straightening herself back up and awkwardly elaborating, “Because—well, you already come here? It's already safe, and if you were okay with it then why not, right? I won't bring anyone here either, so...”

“Wait,” he interrupted because, as fast as his heart was pounding at the opportunity, he wouldn't dare risk holding her back in any way. “I don't want you to stop yourself from bringing someone home just for my sake.”

“Huh?” She blinked at him, as if he'd somehow misunderstood whatever she'd been trying to say. Then, wide-eyed and blushing deeper, she shook her head. “No, it's—I meant... I'm not going to bring anyone anyway. That's why it's alright.”

A beat of silence passed between the both of them. Luka knew from all the little moments when Marinette had spoken about romance that she wasn't aromantic, nor had she ever talked about giving up on love entirely, yet she seemed certain that he wasn't going to end up as a third wheel in her house.

He considered asking, considered multiple possibilities without assuming anything specifically, but she bounced up from the couch before he could get anything out.

“O-oh wow! I should really get started on that soup and, ah—don't worry, you don't have to give me an answer right now!” She turned away swiftly, took a few steps, then paused and looked at the chip bag in her hand. Without glancing back, she tossed the bag towards him and offered, “You can finish that if you want.”

He caught it with both hands and watched her go. After she'd disappeared from his view and into the kitchen, he let his eyes drop to the bag, seeing the chips and the crumbled pieces from when she'd gripped it earlier.

Despite that, his own bag didn't look as appetizing anymore, so he plucked a single, broken chip and slipped it between his lips. His mind was already conjuring scenarios in his head without any effort on his part, imagining what it might be like if he actually lived with her instead of just visiting.

He could still make money with music so long as he could do it without showing his face, thus there wasn't much worry about not being able to pay for his staying there. He was certain that Marinette would give him the guest room, and then they'd end up spending their mornings together. He could find ways to lessen her stress or help out around the house, and he would be there whenever she came home after going out.

To say it was tempting was an understatement. Even the clamor of pots, pans, and the openings of the fridge and cupboards as she shuffled about for her ingredients was like music to his ears.

Swallowing the half chip and finding that it suddenly tasted sweet going down, he thought to himself, No excuse anymore, Couffaine.