#I think they work better as a matched set

[frarxvr]

The Internet Never Forgets – A Charles Leclerc

Charles should have known better.

He had spent years in the spotlight, years learning how to keep things private, years mastering the art of saying everything and nothing at the same time.

But apparently, he wasn’t as good at it as he thought.

Because the internet? The internet never forgets.

The Soft Launch That Wasn’t So Soft

It started innocently enough—a summer getaway with his closest friends. No sponsors, no media obligations, just a few days of relaxation before the chaos of the next Grand Prix.

Charles had planned it well. He knew how fast rumors could start, so he made sure there were no obvious clues. No couple pictures, no secret hand-holding in the background, nothing suspicious.

But his friends? They didn’t get the memo.

The first picture that set things off was from Andrea’s Instagram story. A casual group dinner. Charles was laughing, a glass of wine in hand. But right next to him, slightly out of focus, was a girl.

Always next to him.

Then Joris posted a story from the yacht. Another group shot. Charles in swim trunks, laughing at something—and the same girl was next to him again.

Fans noticed immediately.

"Who is this girl always next to Charles???"

"Wait… is this a soft launch???"

"I love how all his friends are posting, but no one is tagging her. They know what they’re doing."

Within hours, Twitter and TikTok were in full detective mode. People started piecing together details—matching outfits, analyzing reflections, even zooming in on sunglasses to see if her face was visible.

And then someone remembered.

"WAIT. I swear I’ve seen her before???"

Charles had posted a Monaco vlog last year. Just a normal behind-the-scenes video—his morning gym routine, grabbing coffee, a day at the Ferrari garage, then a boat day with friends.

No big deal.

Except… she was in it.

Not just in the background, not just a random guest—she was talking to Charlotte.

"GUYS. SHE WAS IN HIS MONACO VLOG LAST YEAR."

"Not us thinking she’s new when she’s been around THIS WHOLE TIME."

Clips resurfaced. Slow-motion zoom-ins. Frame-by-frame analysis.

Someone even found an old Instagram story from Charlotte, a blurry picture of a group at a restaurant—where Y/N was right next to Charles.

The internet went feral.

"How did we MISS THIS???"

"She was literally there all along."

"Not the world discovering a relationship through detective work."

Charles was lying on the yacht, scrolling through his phone, when he saw the chaos unfold. His group chat with his team was full of links. His notifications were insane.

He groaned, rubbing his face. "Merde."

Y/N, lounging beside him, looked up from her book. "What now?"

He passed her the phone. "We’ve been caught."

She took one glance and burst out laughing. "Oh my god, they really found the Monaco video?"

He groaned again. "They found everything."

Y/N smirked, scrolling through the TikToks. "Honestly? I respect it."

Charles shook his head. "I thought we were being careful."

She raised an eyebrow, turning to him with a knowing look. "Babe, you literally make this easy for them."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

She flipped the phone to show him all the pictures from their friends’ stories. "Every time there’s a group picture, you make sure I’m next to you. Every. Single. Time."

Charles let out a dramatic sigh. "So what? I like having you near me."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "And that’s exactly why they figured it out."

He smirked, leaning in closer. "Well, maybe I wanted them to know."

She gasped, swatting his arm. "Charles!"

He just laughed, pulling her against him. "Let them talk, mon amour. The secret’s out now."

.

[marticoresims]

My Rotational Gameplay System

Hi! There's a video on my channel about how I play rotationally, but some info there is outdated. I figured a post can always be edited, so it's a better way to share how I play The Sims 2.

What is rotational gameplay?

Playing rotationally means that you play multiple households for the same number of days, jumping from one to the other in rounds. This way, you keep the households even, have story progression in all of them, and then you can make them interact, intertwine and merge into new families, not leaving any playable Sim behind.

If you play two-three households and leave the rest unplayed, that's also rotational gameplay. There's no right or wrong way to play The Sims 2!

Setting up the neighborhood

First of all, stealth hoods. I don't want all the same Sims appearing in my family bin over and over, so I made the stealth hoods empty. This tutorial shows how to do it, but it's actually more simple than that – just go into those folders and delete all files in 'Characters'. DO NOT do it in the Documents directory!

Second, I think of which subhoods make sense for this neighborhood. I hardly ever add Downtown. Vacation destinations depend on what I need, I usually add one during gameplay if I'm planning a vacation (which is rare). I like to have one, max two university hoods, especially if they include pre-made Sims. And Bluewater Village is completely redundant, but I sometimes make my own shopping district as an extra area. For example, in my Pleasantview 2.0 I made "Goth Square" that is kind of like a downtown district with apartment buildings, restaurants, clubs etc.

Sometimes I'll tinker with seasons, e.g. Strangetown seems like warm climate, so I might turn off winter in it. Riverblossom Hills must stay default, though.

Basics and keeping track

One round is 4 days for most of my neighborhoods. Some people do it by days of the week or seasons in-game, but I can't be bothered synchronizing my neighborhood after someone moves out and it's again a summer Monday for them. If it's Thursday in the middle of winter in another household at the same time, I really don't mind.

I'm an old school gal when it comes to taking notes to keep track of played days. I have a paper notebook with the grid pattern and mark rounds as squares – each line is one day. I have a whole list of families named by last names mostly, but if a last name repeats (which is often), I either sign them with one of the Sims' first name or their last name + initials. For example, in Riverblossom Hills I have families named Roth (for the "main" Roth family still living in the original house) and Roth LF (Roth – Larch & Fiona).

These days, I use erasable pens in my notes, so no crossing out if a family merges with another or changes its name. For marking days, I still like to use a simple pencil. For side notes (such as planning someone's career or matchmaking) I either use sticky notes or draw a special square and use the erasable pens again to take easily erasable notes. If there's no space on the page anymore, I move onto another. I always keep the old pages, though! I have them pinned in the back of the notebook. Also, I only use notebooks that have tabs of different colors and each neighborhood has its color. Blue for Pleasantview, green for Strangetown, purple for Veronaville, orange for Riverblossom Hills etc. I like to match pen colors to it as well. Yes, I do have ideasthaesia.

For more "serious" neighborhoods I have an additional document on my PC in table form where I plan out the storytelling. I pretty much only have it for my Youtube let's play neighborhoods like Townieville. Fun fact: I have two separate notebooks for "work neighborhoods" and "private neighborhoods". The work one is in smaller format 😂

Here's a fragment of my Townieville notes (the Bendett-LeTourneau family takes too much space when spelled out lol):

As for aging, I made my own custom lifespan that mimics real life years (1 day = 1 year). However, I only age up Sims at "1 day away" (aka the orthodox way) when they're babies and teenagers. Babies because I want them to be 1 year old as toddlers (only Nopke somehow figured out a way to make the baby stage actually 1 day), and teenagers to give them time to attend college. In all the other stages, I wait until the last minute for them to age up on their own. I would never remember to age them up manually or throw parties, also the 1 extra day would make it difficult for me to count their age. That results in the elder stage starting at "57 days old", but I count it as 60 years old. I like to know how old my Sims are for context, that's all.

Population

My limit for one neighborhood is 16 families. If there's more, one round takes forever and I lose interest. In my old Pleasantview, I finally managed to lower the number of families from 24 to 18 and still going. It feels great! So, as you see, I can't do an uberhood/megahood.

To stop my neighborhood from expanding too much, I simply don't make too many kids. I have pretty strict rules that are based on aspirations: Family+Family is 3 kids, Family+Other is 2 kids, Other+Other is 1 kid. If both Sims have family as a secondary aspiration (and I remember that they do), I'll make them have two. It has been working pretty well, but I'm open to changes in the future. Sometimes I would even impregnate a Sim with InSimenator instead of naturally to make sure it's not twins.

I mark every birth on a certain day as a dot and letter (B/G – boy/girl) and plan newborns in advance to have babies be born at a similar time and with balanced genders, so I can match them later. Of course I do have same-sex couples and big-age-difference couples as well. It all comes out when the babies get older, but synchronizing births creates a solid basis. Usually there are no more than 4 kids born in one round.

I love townies, but I avoid bringing them into the neighborhood as much as I can (it expands the population). If two playables are not related and have the potential to be together, I'll tinker with their chemistry to make it happen. I have this mod to help me avoid marrying second-cousins, even if it's not really that big a deal in real life. I do follow chemistry very much in matchmaking though, so if there's any decision to be made between two Sims, I'll always go for the one with the higher chemistry (sort by chemistry and choose the one that appears first – even if the bolts are the same, they are sorted by points).

Wants & Fears

I like to say that I play half-wants-based. I especially like to use wants to avoid having only wealthy families. How? Only if they roll a want of getting a skill point, I'll prioritize career skill points and let them get promoted. Otherwise, they might stay at the same level for years and do other things instead such as hobbies. Even if their lifetime want is the top of a career – the Sims are responsible for progressing in their careers. I don't lock the skill wants either, only the promotion ones if a promotion is guaranteed. But keep in mind that I use mods for no friends needed for careers and less often promotions (I changed it to 85%). That way, some Sims struggle financially, some just have enough to pay the bills, some accumulate money very slowly, and some become rich fast. It's true that it's fortune Sims that usually reach the top of their careers, knowledge Sims are second place, but isn't that actually realistic? If a Sim's lifetime want is anything other than a career, I realize they won't get everyday wants regarding that LTW (unless it's a knowledge Sim with "Max out 7 skills"), so I will push them towards it, but still, not every Sim completes their lifetime want. Also, I use 50 New LTWs and Slower LTA Gain.

I do like to listen to what my Sims want to do, but if the want is ridiculous (like wanting to get married to 3 Sims at once for Romance Sims on dates), I'll ignore it. I only use wants or lack thereof for more variety and less decision-making. I use a lot of mods that change wants as well, such as Fewer Hobby Wants.

Decisions

Deciding makes me anxious. I want gameplay to be fun and the Sims to be their own people. That's why I have certain rules for choosing aspirations and careers. Here's my entire calculator that saves me in choosing careers. For aspirations, I only use the calculator sometimes if I'm not sure, but usually I look at the Sim's personality and can easily see their aspiration based on traits. Obviously I make exceptions to that rule, I WILL have a grouchy Family Sim from time to time. But I do that only if I feel a certain vibe, so no decision is needed either, I just know this Sim will be the exception. Sometimes, I make exceptions to also differentiate Sims from their parents, as personality is genetic for the most part, so it's likely for two Knowledge Sims to “produce” another Knowledge Sim and I'd like to avoid repetition. Especially with Family Sims, as with my population system it might lead to one family dominating the neighborhood. Family+Family having 3 kids and all of them with the Family aspiration? Not on my watch!

In families of more than one child, how do I decide who moves out and who stays home as an adult? If there are no other factors influencing it, the youngest child stays because the older ones moving out will create the space for the next generation. But it varies based on what housing situation the potential partner has. Oh, yeah, I don't play with elders only, that's boring.

How do I decide who changes their name at marriage? These days, I like to keep the OG last names, so if there's a townie marrying into a pre-made family, I'll keep the pre-made family's name. Gender doesn't matter. If it's two pre-mades getting married, I decide based on how many other Sims there are with that last name (do the Sims have siblings?). It's real tactical work sometimes. If I want to keep both, a hyphenated name is always an option too.

Random events

Not a lot of random events happen in my game. Mostly it's just Sims cheating. I have ACR's risky woohoo set to zero most of the time. I do have some mods that make Sims' lives more risky like more dangerous fires (this version is edited to work with the fire safety skill) or death by childbirth. But if someone dies untimely, they die. Especially if they've already had kids (which sounds cruel lol, but my gameplay is based on legacy and genetic continuity).

University

One round is 4 days, that means 4 years, so I guess it would make sense to play the "empty nest" once the offspring is in college. But I don't do that. College is frozen time. In my game, the teenager stage is 9 days – from 13 to 22. It would be too short if I treated university as passing time, as 22 is when US college students graduate. So, I mark a dot with the letter C whenever someone is "1 day away" and ready for college. It's often for the future more than the past, as I like to send a few Sims at once (you know, the babies marked 22 days earlier), so I plan ahead and need to know how many days left. I also send them to college according to their age (even if I don't have to do that with frozen time, it's fun to do), so if there's 2 years difference between Sims, one of them will be a Freshman when the other one is already a Sophomore. Also, not everyone goes to college! It's wants-based, again. If the teen has the want to go to college the very last morning of their teen stage, they go immediately. And again, exceptions. Sometimes I'll lock in the college want because I just can't imagine that Sim not going to college. I have the No Memory Uneducated mod to stop Sims who didn't want to go to college from crying about it. My university gameplay is the most strictly wants-based, to avoid having all Sims graduate with honors. Don't have a want to gain skill points, but fears academic probation? We're doing bare minimum. That kinda thing. The only want I lock in is "Make Dean's List" because it's pretty rare, and without it I was ending up with 3.2 GPA for every single Sim. This want means we're doing everything to get the highest grade possible.

Supernatural Sims

I'm not a fan of supernatural in The Sims (unless it's Planet Alades). The only occult I absolutely LOVE is ALIEN. I will have aliens in nearly every neighborhood. No Multi PT mod needed. PlantSims are cool too, but only in neighborhoods where they appear from the start. Very rarely do I let my Sims become werewolves, or especially vampires and zombies. If a Sim doesn't age, I don't see a point in playing them. Best regards to all the 'aging off' Simmers out there 😆

That's all! Now I can stop rambling about it in my let's plays and just send you guys to this post if you have questions. Phew!

[maladaptivewritings]

Personal Jesus

Pt3

Simon has a tattoo artist he favors, and in his boredom while home becomes a superhero for a single person

tw: general Simon Riley behavior, general C.O.D topics, stalking for the cause?

Y/N : They/them, female anatomy implications, tattoo artist, oblivious loser , slightly more emotionally intelligent, nickname of lamb by Simon

word count: 700

Pt 1, Pt.2

Again?

Flowers, no a whole bouquet was perfectly placed on your car. Recently enough where they didn't wilt yet, and this was the fifth one this month. This was becoming a little too common as you placed the bushel in your passenger seat and headed to work.

Your coworker was in today, a nice rarity when he wasn't with his band. He watched as you brought in the display of flowers, pale blues and white arrangement making it's spot on the front desk as you sat beside it.

"Y/n, what the actual hell?" Ace exaggerated, the makeup from the night before still apparent on his face.

"Flowers, why?" You acknowledged, enthusiasm hidden as you stole a sip of his coffee.

"No shit sherlock, from who?" His voice dripping with concern as he watched, the gears in his mind turning.

You shrugged, and waited for the topic to pass. Yes, you had a secret admirer; but that wasn't apart of the big picture right now.

"So, where have you been." You interrupted, his interrogation.

"Tourin'," His words cut short, as he ran his hands through the green and black hair. He was a secretary, a pretty face to greet people so while you had no care why he was gone. Though being gone for almost two months? That was concerning, but Ace had a way to spin a tale. As you leaned against the cool counter, the marble against skin as he tries to explain.

The ringing of the door pulls you both from the deep conversation. Your laughter soothing as you turned towards the door. There stood Simon, whos hulking figure took up the frame of the doorway. The light haloing him from the late-morning sun.

"Mornin'" He slithers back to your booth, enticing you to follow.

"Simon, did we have an appointment cause I didn't make a stencil and----" You implored, was it just due to the stress that you may have forgotten or did you get the day wrong...

"Jus' a walk-in love,'" His voice seemed softer than it had in the past, he sets down a few snacks in-front of you and leans against the worn leather chair. "Do wha' ever I don't care"

Eyes wide with joy as you go grab a design you've been meaning to do. The soft designs normally would have him bartering for better, today he simply nods as he turns his head and situates himself onto the chair.

"Y/n, don't make me look stupid." His threat vague as you began the design from the nape of his neck.

The hum of a tattoo gun creates a perfect harmony to the one on your lips. Neither one of you caring about the brief intimacy of the moment.

Ace, come in to bring back your drink. His mossy green eyes matching with Simon's abyss-like ones, if he didn't know better he'd think that Simon was running through murder scenarios.

Why wouldn't he though, stranger in his girls shop, his favorite shop. As you halted that mind-numbing noise to grab your drink, Simon sitting upright following you.

"Who's that wanker?" He said in a huff, as he stretched his massive arms.

"Secretary, if he'd actually work." You affirmed, a laugh escaping your lips as you do so.

"Why ya need that?" He further inquired, desiring any insight.

" 'Tch, I hate waiting at the desk, and he needed work." The simple response wasn't enough for Simon, he needed to know everything that led to the choice now. Making a mental note to dig further when he returned home. Nonetheless, he pulled back his interrogation.

After an hour he finally was done, the mirror held to see the scruff of his neck. A symbol for radioactivity, that adorned him now. He wanted to laugh at the thought but he smiled and handed you a wad of cash.

He left in his normal hurry, snacks that he bought for you still on the counter as the bell rings and door closes.

"Explain," Ace stared at you, as if you had any clue of what his deal was.

"He comes in, lets me do whatever within reason and leaves" A shrug escapes your shoulders as you clean up. Seeing a receipt on the ground, you reach down.

The Bouquet Bar

Note: Currently dealing with midterms and medical issues, I will update as much as I can <3 🎱

[agent-pennsylvania]

"Looks like you've found yourself a Penny then." Penn laughs as Dex picks up on the name. He hadn't actually thought he would want to use it, but it sounded cute coming from his mouth. "Dexterity, huh? That's a good name... I think... Better than mine... Before PFL gave me my code name." Penn watches Grif work from over his shoulder, looking out for enemies every few seconds while he worked until the door unlocked with a loud click.

"Why, thank you... Such a gentleman." Penn snickers as Grif says he's good to go. He can't say many people have opened a door for him even if it was just unlocking it. He snorts at the luck comment, turning his head to look at him briefly. "Let's hope I'm one of those lucky Pennies." He doesn't really believe he is, but it's a fun joke, so he goes with it.

Once it's unlocked, he's there pushing the door to the side so he can get in there. After a short hallway, the control room lights up his visor. Thousands of controls, hundreds of gages and buttons, and about 20 or so screens line the room. No dead bodies, though, oddly enough.

His hands come up to his chin. Fingers deftly flipping open the latches on his helmet. The click-hiss of the suit depressurizing before he finally pulls it off and sets it aside so he can work. His face is badly scarred from freezer burn, and by the looks of it, it goes much lower, the scarring visibly disappearing into the rest of his armor. His right eye is a white glass prosthetic the UNSC or PFL hadn't seen fit to upgrade it into anything useful. His left eye is chocolate brown with a metallic sheen. The color roughly matched his hair, which was currently unruly from being in his helmet.

A data drive is pulled from one of his many pockets and slid into place. Files start to copy automatically as the progress bar appears on the screen. Now he just has to wait. He takes a deep breath. He's halfway done with the mission, but he can't help but feel like something bad is going to happen, because it's never this easy. He may be a bit paranoid.

@rolliesmuses

Penn tries not to be affected by Grif's tears, but sadly, he is a sympathetic soul. Another reason he's a failure of the Spartan Program. Luckily, he has his helmet on so he can at least pretend he's unaffected.

Penn perks up with the offer of help, clearing his throat in an attempt not to sound choked up. "I would... Appreciate that." He chuckles softly at the name update. "Alright... Dex it is then." He nods. "I'm afraid... I don't really have many alternatives... For mine... Not unless you wanna call me Penny or something." He snorts a laugh it's the kind of name that sounds a bit too cutesy for a killing machine, though.

When the building comes into sight and Dex points the door out. Penn takes a moment touching the side of his helmet. Seeming to adjust something. His hud starts to locate the guns. Displaying their ranges and patterns of fire for him to consider. Only two turrets path over the keypad. He crouches, bringing his rifle up over his knee and taking careful aim.

Grif can hear him pull in a breath and then hold it before he opens fire. A controlled three shot burst, and one turret falls lifeless. Another three shot burst, and the second turret is also dead.

He stands back up, "Alright... Path is clear." He confirms with Grif as he once again starts walking down towards the keypad and door. "Don't worry... I'll get you off this rock." He promises as they walk.

@rolliesmuses

[atamascolily]

Prior to meeting Shang, the Vapewiz had carved out a pretty good equilibrium for himself, indulging his sadism in ways that still allowed him to feel like a good (or at least, not actively harmful) person. But gradually, he's had to start confronting the fact that even this measure of indulgence has undesirable consequences. Sha Wu Sheng – a man who at one point attempted to redeem himself – was emotionally broken and then killed. Lin's old master died in the process. Mie Tian Hai very nearly destroyed the world, and who knows what else could happen if Lin keeps chasing bigger fish. We're reaching a point where, if things keep up as they've been going, the Vape Wizard will become undeniably villainous. And I'm not sure he's comfortable with that. Or I might just be projecting. There are two ways to interpret the Enigmatic Gale, and while they both have their charms, they're also both mutually exclusive to one another. On the one hand, if there's a gooey moral center hiding within that sharp and glittery exterior of his, it means that we're up for some interesting pathos in the future. However, this also comes at an unbearable cost in that it likely require that Lin stop being the Enigmatic Gale someday. And we can't have that! The Enigmatic Gale is the heart of adventure, an endless fount of easy yuks at the expense of megalomaniacs with sword fetishes. But on the other hand, if the show keeps operating at its current level of sharpness – and I wouldn't want it to not be this smart – it can't keep letting Lin off the hook forever. He's an incorrigibly selfish asshole, but he's just such a fun asshole, so I love him even though I know that he would never love someone else as he is now. Lin Xue Ya is likely the embodiment of Gen Urobuchi's dark side, his power to sympathize with sadists and the pleasure that he gains from digging into the depths of the human heart. Unfortunately for this side of himself, it coexists with a strong moral center (represented by Shang Bu Huan) and equally strong sympathy for those victimized by history. The conflict between these two tendencies manifests throughout all of the Butcher's work. Despite their alliance of convenience – and my desire for a more permanent one – either Shang's or Lin's side will be forced to give way in their battle on the terrain of this show's soul. Oh well, I'll just try to enjoy the action while it lasts. I anticipate that it'll at least throw me through a few good loops before the journey is over. --Gabriella Ekens reviewing Thunderbolt Fantasy S2x6-7 for Anime News Network.

[louwhose]

Zelink Week 2024 | Day 6 | Ocarina of Time| Sealed Fate

They're so tragic but is there any other way their story could have gone? But the differences between the one who holds hope that brings about the doom it intended to stop and the one who has lived through that fallen world but has only one final hope to fix it.

@zelinkcommunity

[archivedsorrow]

( @sleeplesswork )

silver hair, teal eyes; that was all that was on ivan's mind lately. he couldn't explain it. everywhere he went in the garden, he was looking for him, consciously or not, he was always drawn to wherever till was. he wanted to know everything about him. he wanted to understand him. he knew the sort of enviroment till came from; it wasn't too different from his own. so... how? how did he keep that spark in him, how come he didn't succumb to the system yet when... it obviously carried consequences? not once had he witnessed till be taken away to solitary, not once had he witnessed extra restraints having to be used on him in specific. sometimes it was ivan's fault, sometimes it wasn't. it more often than not was ivan's fault.

and yet. none of the provocations really yielded any answers. till still remained as much as an enigma as the first time he saw him. ivan finally concluded... he needed something bigger. but how were he, a lone boy, to come to such means that weren't simple bickering and scuffles, to try and pull something extraordinary out of another?

the answer came to him later that night, when he went towards a corner of the anakt garden that he hadn't been to much yet. he's found flaws in the system before and exploited them in different places, but he wondered if this one had something, too... a twisted smile curled his lips upwards once he found himself staring at the glitchy wall. ivan felt over the cracks in the otherwise pristine display of what was the garden itself, a perfect, splitting image of earth... like a paradise. but the boy had long since learned that it was anything but.

he paused then, glancing over his shoulder. all the flowers that were nearby had been meticulously crushed and stomped over, torn at the stems as ivan had been practically obsessed with destroying them. it was one final glance to reassure himself that he wasn't followed or watched by anyone, before he pulled at what seemed to be a tear in the very fabric of reality. it made an uncomfortable, screeching sound, one that had him flinching slightly, but before he knew it, he was staring into a gaping maw of what appeared to be a cave. where did this lead?

as he fearlessly stepped forth, the cold of the ground beneath his feet was a jarring contrast to the warm grass of anakt garden. ivan stepped over dirt and stone alike, sliding his palm along the wall as he walked in a whimsical manner. the darkness was oddly comforting, as compared to the bright, too bright lights of the garden. he only paused once he heard growling. did something live here? his steps grew lighter, more careful, as he followed after the strange sounds. it was then, that he saw it. that creature, of a shape that reminded him of those his father's men owned. two headed and drooling, baring sharp fangs. he never quite knew what they were, other than they were used to rip apart those that didn't pay their debts to father promptly enough.

it noticed him, he knew. of course it did. “ ... ” they were staring into each other's eyes, and ivan was surprised to see the beast not attack him immediatelly... but then he saw— the collars around both of its necks... just like till. he recalled his father's bodyguards throwing hunks of meat at these creatures and they always gulped them down happily. he wondered if this one was hungry, too; it was drooling, almost shaking as it stared ivan down. he couldn't fathom what purpose this one served, why it was hidden away behind the walls of the garden that was supposed to be a peaceful, safe paradise. he turned his back to it, heading back towards the garden, and subsequently, his room. he'd have to find it some snack.

he'd found some scraps from his dinner, gathered them up and quickly went back to where he came from, always mindful of not being seen. he was quite pleased to see that none of their caretakers that were up at night seemed to notice anything, so ivan's path remained clear. he made a quick trip back towards that hellish creature he saw earlier, hands outstretched with the offerings he brought. it quickly perked up and began panting... was it... excited? ivan quirked one of his brows upwards, committing this behavior to memory. it was no longer growling at him, ivan no longer felt like he wasn't allowed to approach it any further. with some caution, he threw the first bit of food towards it. it happily gobbled it up... and so he repeated that a few more times, until he had nothing left on his hands.

that wegyein then trotted over to the raven-haired boy on its own, causing him to tense up for one fleeting moment. “ mm... ” he hummed idly, carefully pressing his palm to one of its snouts. was it thankful? he remembered always being told to say thank you! to the cooks when they were handing out food to the children. with no further regard to his own well-being, ivan slipped his fingertips over the creature's teeth, even slipping them between some of the bigger gaps. he wondered... how till would react to this thing?

he left the animal with that thought, etched deeply into his mind. other than giving it a silent promise that he'd come visit it every so often, it was all he could think about, head buzzing with countless possibly scenarios of what-ifs where he imagined till standing up to an alien creature that appeared so feral. so of course. the next day, that was exactly the sort of scenario he had to set up.

during their mandatory playtime, he noticed till trying to weave a flower crown. that seemed to be the new hit thing amidst the children, everyone was doing it lately. he wasn't even that bad if ivan were to be honest— but something still bothered him about the other children's ignorance towards what those flowers actually were ( so why did you never tell them? ).

“ hey! ” he exclaimed, rushing over towards the fair-haired boy and snatching the flower crown he'd been working on this whole time. “ hahaha, you want it back? you're gonna have to catch me! ” and with that taunt, he immediatelly bolted towards his newfound secret place from last night.

[kateis-cakeis]

rewatching bbc merlin really has me like buzzing in my mind with so many thoughts. Like I'm kinda watching it backwards atm going from S5 to S4, I think I will jump around 3, 2, and 1 but just,,,, there is so much especially in S5 that makes me !!!!!!!

Honestly, I feel like this fandom has to give the writers more credit. Like they did a damn good job, and to me, it's such a good tragedy. Especially how S5 plays out, it takes everything and just tears you down, and down, and down. It's perfect, perfect with flaws! But still perfect

[cinnamon-bunni]

new layout made by @strawberrysnipes!!! please go go check his stuff out its amazing!!!!

[rolandkaros]

trying to work out scenarios where both czechia and poland can go through...........

[adore-gregor]

ugh there it goes

[ssspringroll]

i hate you, weird blocky parts of the droom mesh. i cant wait for you to be died ♥

[hrhprincerichard]

It's very unfair the way Grant is looking at him. Richard has always felt uneasy about people looking at him. That includes people he's sleeping with. But there's no unease here just heat. Richard chuckles softly at the way Grant lingers at his dick. Despite his laughter there's a real danger of Grant getting him hard before dinner doing things like that. He smiles when Grant says he's comfortable right there on his bed. Laughing again at the pleading eyes as he ask for a pizza. "You wanker," he says with another laugh. Richard has shared pizza with Grant enough to know he'll just want the box and a napkin. He pulls out another couple of water bottles too before handing the pizza, napkin, and a second bottle to Grant. "Try not to get sauce on the duvet," he tells Grant as he hands them over. His smile is hopefully enough to let Grant know he's teasing. For himself he grabs the other pizza box, napkin, a plate, and a knife and fork. Just because he's eating naked in bed doesn't mean he can't eat like a civilized person. "I'm actually pretty hungry myself. You sure know how to work up an appetite." Richard grins over at him as he talks while settling down on the bed beside Grant.

Grant doesn’t get up when Richard does; instead he sits back on his elbows and watches Richard as he stands, allowing himself to take in the sight of Richard naked. Naked with a big grin on his face as he tells Grant not to put on his boxers. Grant grins. “Good, I don’t want that either,” he says, then makes a point of dragging his eyes down to Richard’s lips, his neck, his collarbone, his chest, his stomach, and lingering at his dick before he looks back at Richard with a smirk. But he laughs when Richard agrees this counts as al fresco dining. “Cool, ‘cause I’m pretty comfortable right here,” he says when Richard hands him a bottle of water. Lounging in Richard’s bed naked to eat pizza doesn’t feel as off-limits as lounging in Richard’s bed on top of Richard does. Like, why bother putting clothes back on if they’re both hoping for a round two anyways? And when the view is so nice without clothes. And if Richard is cool with Grant eating pizza in his bed, he’s not gonna argue. Won’t be the first time Grant has eaten pizza in bed. Won’t even be the first time eating pizza in bed with another person, but he and Cora’s fully clothed nights in hotel rooms to fuck with the press are decidedly different than this. He flashes Richard his most endearing grin and makes pleading eyes at him. “Bring me a pizza? I mean, since you’re already up.” 

[angelltheninth]

Love your LADS writings! Could we maybe get them reacting to their girlfriend wearing their shirt?

I love writing for LADS, now that Caleb is here there's even more hot men to fawn over.

Pining: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, sharing clothes, domestic fluff, clothes shopping, possessiveness, being playful, flirting

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Wrote this a bit fast because my new PC came in today so I need to set it up. It's gonna be awesome.

Zayne pretends not to notice that it's his shirt you're always wearing in the mornings when you stay over at his place. It's only a shirt, he's got many more just like it. So why is it getting to him when you wear it? Simple, it looks cuter on you, and he tries not to get worked up about it, that would go against his stoic, professional self. However when he sees you waring his clothes he always tells you that it looks good on you. A sort of subltle encouragement that you should do it more often, and also spend more time at his place because he tries not to leave his clothes at your place.

Rafayel wants to buy some matching clothes when he saw that you wear his on ocassion. He's always had a good sense of style and is very happy that you do to, furthermore that you like it so much that you want to wear what he waers. When he sees you wearing his clothes he makes sure to memorize what it looked like on you so he can sketch it later. Before he knows it there are a dozen sketches of you in his clothes. Not that it's a bad thing by any means and he thinks you're catching on to him buying matching clothes because every time you're on a date you're pointing out cute outfits that you say would look great on him.

Xavier doesn't think much of it when he leaves some of his stuff at your place when he comes and goes. What he does think about is how his pants looked on you, too long, cozy, some a bit tight on you, others hanging off your hips, all depending on what you get your hands on at the time. The scene is almost domestic, seeing you not even think about putting on something of his, you don't even say why you do it and he's fascinated by that. Playfuly he tugs on the waistband of the pants and tells you he wants them back, only for you to turn the tables and tell him to take them off you if he wants them so bad.

Sylus is very perceptive of what you do when you're around him so there's no way he wouldn't notice you wearing his fancy shirts around the apartment. Those aren't exactly outfits for casual wear so there was no way you could have mistaken them for one of your own, which means you took them on purpouse. A man like him doesn't do well when other people touch what belongs to him without his permission. It's bad bussiness practice, and dangerous when you're in deep with criminals like he is. But he could be persuaded to let you get away with it, only because you're his girl and his girl can do whatever she wants with and to him.

Caleb leaves his hoodie at your place on purpouse. He did it because he wanted to use it as an excuse to visit again early, he didn't expect that you'd be wearing it when you opened the door for him. All the blood rushed to his brain and caused him to stop all train of thought for a few moments before he smirked and leaned in to whisper how cute you look, his breath hot against your lips before he claimed them in a seering kiss. From that day on he never mentioned anything about you giving him his clothes back. Why would he want it back when it looks so much better on you, sometimes it's all you wear around him.

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤMIDNIGHT COMPANY * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　while filming a car video, the triplets witness a girl - Y/N - arguing with her boyfriend. When he smashes her phone and leaves her alone at midnight in the middle of a random parking lot, Chris steps in.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　toxic relationship, yelling, fighting, being hurt physically and emotionally, manipulation, panicking.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N didn't meant for things to end up like that.

She really didn't.

She was just walking alongside her boyfriend through the Target aisles, her eyes darting nervously between the shelves and the floor.

But she should know better. He had already been irritated when they left the apartment - something about her taking too long to get ready - and now, every move she made felt like a mistake.

"Stick close." Her boyfriend had muttered, his voice low but firm. His eyes darted around the store, scanning the aisles of brightly colored products with an air of impatience. "I don’t want to spend all night in here."

Y/N nodded quickly, her throat dry.

"Okay."

They made their way down the main aisle, her boyfriend grabbing a few items and putting them into the cart with little regard. It was always like that; he made the decisions, and she just agreed and moved on.

He paused at the end of that same aisle, scanning the shelves with a discerning eye. She lingered a few steps behind, observing.

He grabbed a box of granola bars from the shelf, tossing it into the cart with a louder thud. She winced at the sound, her stomach knotting with unease.

"Why are you standing there? Do you see the cereal we get?" He asked, his tone clipped.

Her throat tightened. She scanned the shelves frantically, her eyes moving over the rows of colorful boxes. She wasn’t sure if it was the green box or the blue one.

"Um, I think..." She started, reaching hesitantly toward one of the options.

"Don’t think. Look." He snapped, already sounding exasperated.

Her hand faltered, and she pulled it back. Her heart was pounding, and her palms had grown clammy against the leather strap of her purse. She wanted to go home.

They turned into the household goods section, where shelves were lined with glass containers, picture frames, and other fragile items. Her boyfriend stopped abruptly, examining a set of drinking glasses with a critical eye.

"Do you think these match the ones we already have?" He asked, holding up a box with pretty crystal wine glasses.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if he wanted an answer or was just thinking out loud.

"I-I think so."

Her boyfriend sighed, setting the box down with a clatter.

"You’re not even paying attention."

"I am." She said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper, desperately searching for his free hand. "I promise."

"Whatever." He muttered, letting her squeeze his fingers once before dropping hers, moving on.

Y/N quickly followed, trying to stay out of his way, her eyes fixed on his tall figure, crossing her hands in front of her body and forcing her brain to pay more attention to anything he touched or pointed out. She couldn't risk him thinking that she didn't care.

As she passed by one of the shelves, her purse brushed against a precariously balanced display of small vases. Time seemed to slow as the first vase teetered, then fell, hitting the shelf below it and sending a chain reaction through the display.

Crash!

The sound was deafening. Glass shattered across the floor, the pieces glinting under the white lights. Y/N froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stared at the mess, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?" Her boyfriend hissed under his breath.

She dropped to her knees instinctively, trembling as she tried to gather the pieces with her bare hands.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, her voice trembling and desperate.

"You're fucking nbelievable." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped for a moment, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t crying because of the spilled glasses. It wasn’t even about the moment itself. It was about the weight of knowing that every mistake she made was a reason for him to get tired of her. To leave her.

"I’m sorry." She whispered, again and again, the words tumbling out of her mouth as though they might undo the damage. "I’m so s-sorry."

But it wasn’t just an apology. It was an instinctive response, born from the fear of making him feel any sort of negative emotion at all. She knew that he wouldn’t brush this off, wouldn’t laugh, and say it was no big deal. He would be mad, and she couldn't let him get mad at her. Not again.

She desperately wanted to shrink herself down into something more digestible for him at that moment. Something he could chew up, spit out, and discard - like gum.

A woman at the end of the aisle glanced over, her expression a mix of surprise and concern. A man on the opposite side peeked around the corner, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Y/N’s face burned with humiliation. She felt their stares on her, for sure, full of judgment. Her hands fumbled over the shards, shaking too hard to pick them up properly.

Her boyfriend crouched down beside her, his expression now unusually calm. His hand landed on her shoulder, but the grip was firm, bordering on painful.

"Y/N, honey, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself."

"I’m sorry." She whispered again, the tears on her eyes starting to burn her orbs with the force she used to stop the drops from escaping. She couldn’t let him see her break. She’d learned the hard way that crying only made him angrier.

"Stop it." He said more firmly, moving his hand through her arm, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand away from the glass. He looked up at the people looking back at them and forced a polite, almost apologetic smile. "She’s... a little clumsy. Always has been. Right, honey? I know you didn’t mean to. You can’t help it, can you?"

Y/N stiffened, her stomach churning. She forced her head to move up and down, the movement coming out almost robotic.

"You’re just... distracted. All the time." He continued, his smile cold and tight. "That’s why these things happen. You can’t focus."

She wanted to argue, to tell him that she wasn’t some careless mess, but the words died in her throat. What good would it do?

"Here." He said, taking an empty cardboard box near them and shoving the pieces to the side with it, taking it all out of the way. "There. Fixed. See?"

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Now, get up."

She stood, her knees wobbling slightly as she adjusted the strap of her purse. He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin.

"It’s okay." He continued, speaking louder now so the others could hear. "She just gets a little overwhelmed sometimes. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this."

The man at the end of the aisle nodded, giving her boyfriend a small, understanding smile. The woman pursed her lips and turned away, muttering something about how 'accidents happen'.

"Let’s go." He said through clenched teeth as he started walking toward the exit.

"But-"

"No." His voice was low, but the warning was clear. He smiled tightly at the few remaining onlookers as he dragged her past them.

Her face burned with humiliation, but she kept quiet, her eyes glued to the floor. His grip tightened when her feet seemed to disobey her brain, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.

The automatic doors slid open, and the cool night air rushed over her, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her head. Her boyfriend’s pace didn’t slow, his hand still gripping her skin as he led her toward the parking lot.

Her heart was pounding, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. She felt like a child being scolded, small and powerless, her voice locked somewhere deep inside her throat.

When they reached the car, he finally let go of her arm, shoving her away as if she were a piece of garbage. She stumbled slightly, catching herself against the side of the car, waiting for whatever came next.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

From the other side of their spot in the parking lot, the triplets were parked, their van slightly away from the main entrance. It was Wednesday night, and they were filming their weekly video, the interior of the van alive with yells and laughter.

"... No, seriously, people do that sometimes." Chris said, turning slightly towards Matt while trying to prove his point. "Patches O'Houlihan, he did that."

Matt scoffed, looking at him with an 'are you serious?' look.

"From Dodgeball? The fictional character?" He laughed incredulously, looking at Nick through the rearview, ready for another weird thing to come out of Chris's mouth.

Nick's attention, however, wasn’t on him - or them, for that matter. It was on the world outside. He always had a habit of scanning his surroundings, probably in a way of caring for himself and his brothers.

As Chris kept going, earning a loud groan from Matt, Nick’s eyes caught movement across the parking lot, almost exactly in front of their van. Near one of the parked cars, a couple stood in the golden glow of a streetlamp.

Nick’s stomach twisted. Something about the way the guy loomed over the girl, his gestures sharp and erratic, immediately set off alarm bells. The girl was visibly distressed, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture shrinking with every second.

Without thinking, Nick leaned forward and slapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting him.

"Nick, what the-" Chris began, turning sharply, his annoyance evident.

"Shut up." Nick hissed, his voice low but firm, cutting through Chris’s protest. He nodded toward the couple. "Look."

Chris frowned but followed Nick’s gaze, his expression shifting from irritation to curiosity and then to concern. Matt, who had been in the middle of adjusting his hoodie, leaned closer to the windshield.

"What’s going on?" Matt asked, his voice quieter now.

Nick didn’t answer, instead reaching for the button to lower his window, easing it down. A faint, angry voice carried into the van, growing clearer as the man’s yelling intensified.

"... do you even understand how embarrassing you are?"

The girl stood frozen, her arms clutching her sides as though trying to hold herself together. Her head was bowed, her hair shielding her face from the world. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare to look up, and that only seemed to fuel his anger.

"What the fuck?" Matt muttered, leaning forward slightly to get a better look, his eyes glued to the scene.

"You think I’m joking?" He snapped, stepping closer to her. "You think I enjoy having every pair of eyes in that store on me because you can’t manage to walk without causing a damn scene?" The man continued, stepping closer to her.

Her response was so soft that it barely reached the triplets’ ears.

"I’m sorry..."

"Sorry?" The man laughed bitterly. "You’re always sorry. You’re sorry when you spill coffee, you’re sorry when you trip over your own feet, and now you’re sorry for knocking over half a shelf like a goddamn child?"

The girl flinched at his words, biting her bottom lip while taking a small - almost imperceptible - step back.

Chris tensed after watching her reaction, his jaw tightening.

"This guy’s a piece of-"

"Chris, shush." Matt snapped, his voice low.

"I told you before, didn’t I? Stop acting like a fool every time we’re out in public. This is for your own good." The man spat.

"I didn’t mean to-" She started, but he cut her off quickly.

"Shut up!" He barked, his voice echoing across the lot. She shrank back, her body trembling. "You know better than to talk back to me." He growled, taking another step closer.

"I wasn’t-"

"Stop talking!" He barked, his voice echoing across the empty lot probably louder than intended. "Every time you open your mouth, you make it worse. Do you even understand that? Or are you too stupid to figure it out?"

Tears accumulated inside her eyeballs, shining below the lights.

"Look, I’ll call an Uber, okay?" Y/N murmured, her voice cracking. "You can go home and calm down. Please."

"Oh, you’ll call an Uber? Sure, let’s waste more of my money on your screw-ups." The man’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

She reached into her purse, her hands shaking as she pulled out her phone, unlocking it and trying to search for tha app, being harshly interrupted when the man snatched the device from her grip with such force that she stumbled.

Chris shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenched on his lap.

"Do we step in?"

"I don't think we should, not right now." Nick whispered.

"Give it back. Please, baby." She asked, her voice weak, trembling.

"Why? So you can text your little friends about what a terrible boyfriend I am?" He sneered, holding the phone high above his head.

Y/N's mouth dropped open, her wet eyes widening as if he had just committed the worst crime.

"Baby, please." She begged, her tears now falling freely, causing her voice to break. "I would never ever do that. I love you so much, you know that, right?"

He ignored her. With a single, violent motion, he hurled the phone to the ground. The sound of glass and plastic shattering against the pavement echoed in the silence.

She recoiled as though the blow had landed on her instead of the device, a squeak involuntarily escaping from her mouth. Her arms wrapped tighter around herself as she stared at the broken pieces. Her whole life, broken.

"Should've had taken that shit from you sooner." The man spat, shaking his head. "Pathetic. Can’t do anything right."

Matt and Nick exchanged horrified glances through the rearview, Chris's face pale by their side.

"P-please, don't leave me here, baby. I love you, I'm so sorry." The girl begged, gluing her hands in a praying gesture in front of her body. "I promise I'll do better."

"I can't even look at your face right now." The man shook his head. "I need some time, okay?" He didn't wait for an answer before storming off to the driver-side of his car, slamming the door and speeding out of the lot, tires screeching against the asphalt.

Y/N stood frozen, her trembling figure illuminated by the lights and the moon.

Chris didn’t think. One second, he was staring at her, and the next, his hand was on the van door handle, yanking it open.

"Chris!" Matt hissed from the driver’s seat. "What are you doing?"

"Chris- what the fuck?!" Nick added, his voice urgent but not loud enough to stop him.

But Chris couldn’t wait. He couldn’t sit there any longer, watching this girl suffer alone.

He bolted from the van, the cool night air hitting him like a slap, but he barely noticed. His long strides carried him across the parking lot, his heart pounding not from his pace but from pure urgency.

"Oh my god, he's crazy!" Matt’s groan echoed from behind him, but it was distant, like background noise.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.

The closer he got, the more his stomach churned. Her face was streaked with tears, her cheeks blotchy and raw from crying. But she wasn’t just crying. She was panicking. He could see it in the way her hands trembled uncontrollably, and in the way her breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Chris slowed as he approached her, not wanting to startle her. She was staring at the exit of the parking lot, her wide, unfocused and tear-filled eyes locked on the gate arm as though it was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

"Hey." He said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

She flinched, her head snapping up, and her gaze locked on him as she took a step back. For a moment, she looked utterly terrified, and Chris's throat tightened.

He quickly held his hands up, palms out, trying to show her he wasn’t a threat.

"Hey, hey, it’s okay." He said quickly. "I just... I saw what happened, and I wanted to check if you’re okay."

Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, a fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks. She shook her head, taking another step back, her back almost hitting the metal post of the streetlight.

"You don’t have to be scared." Chris said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I just want to help."

She looked at him again, her watery eyes studying his face as though trying to figure out if he was lying.

Chris took a cautious step closer, keeping his movements slow.

"You’re shaking." He said gently. "It's freezing out here. Can I... can I give you my hoodie?"

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

"Why?" She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because it’s cold, and you’re upset, and I’d feel better if you weren’t standing out here like this." Chris said honestly, shrugging off his hoodie - ignoring how the hairs on his arm fully stood up with the cold air - and holding it out to her.

She hesitated, her eyes darting from his face to the piece of clothing, then back again.

"It’s okay." Chris reassured her. "You don’t have to take it, but I promise it’s clean. And warm."

After what felt like an eternity, she slowly reached out and took the hoodie from him. Her hands were trembling so much that she almost dropped it, but she managed to pull it to her chest, pressing it against her covered skin.

"Thank you." She mumbled, her voice shaky.

Chris exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

"Of course. What’s your name?" He asked in a soft tone. "I'm Chris."

She blinked her eyes at him, frowning, clearly surprised by the question.

"Y-Y/N." She said hesitantly.

"Y/N." He repeated, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "It’s really nice to meet you... Um, do you want to sit down? You look like you need a second."

She looked around the parking lot again before nodding slowly, and Chris gestured to the curb nearby. He waited until she sat down before taking a seat a few feet away, giving her space but staying close enough that she wouldn’t feel alone.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I’m fine." She finally said - even though it wasn't what Chris was expecting to hear, her voice cutting through the silence, hoarse and shaky.

Chris tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I don’t think you are."

"I am." She insisted, but her voice cracked on the words, betraying her.

Chris turned his face slightly to the side to meet her eyes, curving his upper body, trying to make himself seem less imposing.

"I know you don’t know me. Well, only my name now." He said softly. "But I can tell you’re not fine. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be. Not after that."

She bit her lower lip hard, and for a second, Chris thought she might break down again. But instead, she straightened her spine, her trembling hands wiping at her tear-streaked face.

"It's not as bad as it looked. He was just angry." She said quietly, almost as if she was saying that to herself. "It’s not his fault. I... I messed up."

Chris’s heart sank at her words.

"You didn’t mess up." He said firmly, his voice laced with conviction.

She shook her head, her hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie tightly.

"I did. I dropped something, broke it, actually. It was stupid, and it drew attention to us, and... and he doesn’t like that. He was just trying to make me understand."

Chris stared at her, his chest tightening painfully.

"That’s not okay." He said softly. "No one should treat you like that, no matter what happened."

"You don’t understand." She said, her voice rising slightly as she hugged herself tighter. "He just... he gets frustrated sometimes, but it’s because he cares. He doesn’t mean to be mean."

Chris’s jaw clenched, a mix of anger and sadness boiling inside him.

"Love isn’t supposed to be like that, Y/N." He said gently. "It’s not supposed to hurt you and leave you standing in a parking lot crying, shaking, and alone."

Her eyes filled with fresh tears again, and she looked away, staring at the ground as if she couldn’t bear to meet his gaze.

"You don’t know him." She whispered, shaking her head vehemently.

Chris wanted to scream, to grab her shoulders, and shake her until she understood that what she was describing wasn’t love. It was control, manipulation, and abuse. But even though he had never helped a victim of a toxic and abusive relationship before, he knew he should keep his voice calm, so he did it, maintaining his tone soft and steady.

"You’re right." He said. "I don’t know him. But I know what I saw, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have someone make you think you’re the problem when you’re not."

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing.

"You don’t know anything about me."

Chris held up his hands.

"You’re right again. I don’t. But I’m not here to judge you. I’m here because I want to help. No strings, no expectations. Just... let me help. I can't leave you alone here for the rest of the night."

She shook her head again, her hands trembling as she brushed her hair out of her face.

"I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. It isn't fair to him. He’d be so heartbroken if he knew."

Chris watched her for a second too long.

"But you deserve to talk to someone." He finally said. "You deserve to feel safe."

"I am safe!" She snapped, her voice ringing out in the empty parking lot. The declaration sounded hollow, as if she was trying to convince herself more than him.

Chris took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second.

"I just want to help you." He said, his tone pleading. "Do you have someone you can call? A family member, a friend? You can use my phone-"

Her reaction was immediate and panicked. She shook her head furiously, her eyes wide with fear as her body tightened, seeming ready to stand up and run.

"No! No, I can’t call anyone."

"Why not?" Chris asked gently, though his heart was racing, his eyes traveling quickly to his car where his brothers were before going back to Y/N. "They’d want to help you, just like I do."

"I said no!" She cried, her voice cracking. Her breathing was shallow and quick now, teetering on the edge of hyperventilation. "You don’t understand. I can’t just call someone. And you... you need to go. God, you shouldn’t even be here."

Chris frowned, his brows knitting together.

"Please, I’m just trying to-"

"You don’t get it." She interrupted, her voice hushed but frantic. She glanced around the parking lot as though expecting her boyfriend to be there somewhere, watching them. "He’s going to come back. And if he sees you here, if he thinks... you need to leave. Now."

Chris’s stomach dropped at the sheer terror in her voice.

"Y/N, he won't hurt you in any type of way while I'm here with you. I can promise you that." He moved a bit closer again, careful not to make any sudden movement. "Let me do something for you. Anything, please."

"You can’t." She whispered, her voice barely audible. "No one can. Please, just go. He’s going to be here soon, and I-I can’t let him see you."

She was holding onto that story like it was a lifeline, but the way her hands trembled and her breath hitched betrayed her doubt.

"What if he doesn’t?" Chris asked gently. "What if he’s not coming back tonight?"

Her face fell for a brief moment before she quickly masked it, straightening up.

"He will." She said, though there was no conviction in her tone. "He always does."

Chris nodded, looking around dismissively.

"Okay. Maybe he will. But just in case... maybe you could let me help you. You don’t have to trust me, I get that. I'm a stranger. But let me offer you something. A safe place to wait."

"I don’t have anywhere to go." She admitted, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the night air. "Just our house. And I don't think I should go back there now."

Chris’s heart twisted at her words and how uncertain they sound, but he kept his expression neutral, careful not to show pity.

"Okay." He said softly. "Then maybe you can just... talk to me. You don’t have to get in my car. We can sit out here. I’ll stay right here in the open where you can see me."

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground.

"Why do you care so much?"

Chris crossed his legs above the pavement, relaxing his posture further.

"Because I know what it’s like to feel like you’re on your own." He said simply. "And because I don’t think anyone should have to go through something like this alone. You don’t deserve that."

She hesitated, her gaze watching her hands above her thighs.

"I won’t call the police unless you want me to." Chris added. "I won’t push you to do anything you don't want to do. But you don’t have to deal with this alone."

Her lip quivered, and she closed her eyes tightly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I don’t even know what I’d do."

Chris’s heart ached for her, but he kept his tone steady.

"How about this." He said. "I’ll stay with you until you figure that out. If you want, I can take you to a hotel, or I can help you find somewhere else to stay for the night. But whatever you decide, I’m not going to leave you here."

She was silent for a long time, her shoulders rising and falling with each shaky breath. Finally, she nodded, just once.

"Okay." She said.

Chris exhaled slowly, relief washing over him.

"Okay." He echoed.

For the first time that night, she looked at him fully, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and cautious hope.

He opened his widest smile in response, leaning back slightly with his palms against the curb behind his back and glancing up at the sky.

"You know." He started, his tone casual. "This isn’t exactly the way I imagined spending my Wednesday night."

Her eyes scanned his face carefully, frowning, feeling like she was the one to destroy his day - or night.

"What do you mean?" She asked hesitantly, her voice hoarse.

Chris shrugged, being careful not to mention his career. He didn't want to overwhelm her.

"Well, usually on Wednesdays, I’m sitting in my van with my brothers, arguing over who gets to pick the fast-food spot. We’re probably debating something ridiculous, too."

That earned him the smallest, almost imperceptible twitch of her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. It encouraged Chris to continue.

"My brothers are idiots, by the way." He said, his tone light. "Don’t tell them I said that, though. They'll get big heads thinking I actually pay attention to their nonsense."

Her brow rose slightly, curiosity tugging at the edges of her expression, her body instinctively leaning towards him.

"What are they like?"

Chris chuckled, throwing his head to the side, laying his cheek against his shoulder and looking at her eyes.

"They're amazing. Weird, but amazing. They're so funny in their individual way, always making me laugh so hard that sometimes I feel like I could pass out."

This time, she let out a soft, breathy laugh, and Chris felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was small, but it was progress.

"You’re close with them?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." Chris said, nodding. "It’s hard not to be when you all live and do everything together. But they’re good guys. Annoying as hell, but good."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the frayed edge of his hoodie sleeve.

"Must be nice." She murmured.

Chris’s smile faltered for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

"It is." He admitted. "But, you know, we fight sometimes. Like, really fight. Last week, Matt threw a punch at me because I wouldn’t stop talking during his game."

Her lips twitched again, and this time, it was a small, shy smile.

"What were you saying?" She asked, her voice soft but carrying a hint of amusement.

"Oh, some random shit. Can’t even remember now. Probably something embarrassing, knowing me." Chris grinned. "Matt said I was ruining his concentration, but honestly, I think he just doesn’t appreciate my brain work."

She shook her head slightly, her smile lingering.

"You’re ridiculous." She said softly, almost reflexively, but as soon as the words left her mouth, her expression shifted. Her body tensed up, her shoulders pulling in as her eyes darted to him in alarm. "I didn’t mean-"

"Guilty as charged." Chris smoothly interrupted her, opening a smirk while looking at her, trying to express through his eyes that it was okay. "But, hey, if ridiculous is what it takes to make you laugh, then I’m all in."

Her looked down again at the pavement, scraping her shoes over the small rocks.

"Thanks." She said quietly.

"For what?" Chris asked, his voice gentle.

"For... keeping me company." She said, her gaze fixed on her lap. "I don’t feel... as bad right now."

Chris felt a lump in his throat but pushed it down, keeping his tone light.

"Anytime." He said. "I’ve got a whole arsenal of dumb stories and good jokes if you need them."

She looked at him then, her eyes softer than before.

"You’re really nice." She said, pressing her lips in a fine line.

Chris shrugged, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I just don’t like seeing people hurt." He said honestly. "And, I don’t know, you seem like someone who deserves a lot better than... all this."

Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment, Chris thought she might start crying again. Instead, she took a deep breath and nodded.

"Thanks." She said again, her voice steadier this time.

Chris gave her a warm smile.

"No problem. Now, how do you feel about bad puns? Because I’ve got a killer one about a duck and a lawyer."

Her laughter filled the cold night air, causing a large smile to stretch across Chris's lips. He would do everything in his power to help this girl.

© vanteguccir

[hexescore]

hey, hey, let's match!

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.

☆ ◞ summary: little snippets of matching items with (character)!

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader.

❀ ◞ author note: this is my first time writing for the arcane characters, so i hope i wrote them well! please enjoy!

CAITLYN KIRAMMAN

bracelet or ring

The silver band was wrapped perfectly around Caitlyn's wrist, catching the light as she pulled her hair back into a high pony tail. She had come home later than usual and despite claiming she'd do better and work/life balance, she picked up right where she left off at work.

"Cait?" You call, peaking your head into her little workspace, seeing she's hung up a few new leads on her bulletin board. "Dinner's done," You walk further into the space, glancing around. It looked different than the last time you'd been in there, messier.

"Mmhm, I'll be there in a minute," She murmurs, "Just got a few more things to take care of..." You nod in acknowledgment, but don't leave. Instead you glance around the room some more, inspecting random but meticulously put together files and pictures.

Finally, you've made your way to where she sits in her leather desk chair, your hand gently touching her shoulder. She tenses at the sudden contact, but almost as quickly melts into your touch. She tilts her head just enough to press a kiss to your hand- her eyes catching the matching silver bracelet you wore. Despite it being subtle, the fact you two are matching causes her to grin, little butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "It's your favorite," You refer back to the dinner you mentioned, "Let's eat together."

Blue eyes trail from the silver band up to your eyes, and she bites her cheek to hold back from cooing at how much she adores you. "Alright," She sighs, pressing another kiss to your hand before packing up her work. She'll have time to do it later.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

EKKO

small couple trinket set.

The smooth, wooden surface of the little cat trinket in Ekko's jacket calms his mind long enough for him to find his footing. It's not often, but when the responsibilities and fear of failing start piling up, Ekko's anxiety reaches peak. When his thumb runs over the cool wood of the trinket though he's able to calm his mind and remember back to a better moment.

"Isn't it cute? It looks like you, don't you think?" You tease as you hold the pouty looking cat trinket up to his face. You almost choke on a laugh at the way his expression matches the cat so perfectly. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at your antics as he spots the matching trinket. He picks up the other cat and smirks, holding up the cat to your face.

"Now that's a match." He says, and when you peak at the cat it's got a rather confused and dumbfounded look on it's face. You scoff, grumbling that you do not look like that. He chuckles as you set the cat down in defeat, moving on to the next stall. As you're distracted, he picks up the matching trinket set and buys them to surprise you with later.

He'll never forget the way you lit up as he handed you the cat that apparently "looked like him." Your giddy, child-like smile as you accepted it and proudly declared you named it 'Ekko Jr.' before informing him you'll 'treasure it forever and ever.' He then promptly showed you the matching piece, which you rolled your eyes at but ever so graciously allowed him to keep. Yeah, a better moment to remember.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JAYCE TALIS

outfits.

"You two truly are disgusting." Viktor commented, with no malice, as you and Jayce entered the lab. Jayce just held a grin akin to a child in a candy store on his face as he looked over your outfit again- which matched his perfectly. It was surprising how many outfits Jayce coordinated in order to match you in some way or another.

"You're just jealous." Jayce held his head high with pride, turning to press a kiss to your cheek. "I'll pick you up later, okay?" You smile, leaning into the kiss and soaking up what warmth you could from him. Anyone who saw you two would surely get a tummy ache at how sweet the moment was.

"I'll be the one in the matching outfit." You chuckle, your laughter only growing at Viktor's faux vomiting. You decide to leave willingly before you were forced out, but not before giving Jayce quick peck on the lips. You run away as you hear a playful argument rise between the two.

"Seriously, how many outfits can you possibly match together?" Viktor sighs, shaking his head as he turns to continue his work.

"All of them." Jayce says earnestly, almost too prideful to not have a single article of clothing that doesn't have a matching counterpart to yours.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

JINX

nail polish.

It was easy to be captivated by Jinx, her voice like the lure of a siren, as she chats away about her day to you. She only gets this way because she trusts you, which in turns makes your own walls come down. Your eyes closed as you relax in her presence. Last time she had convinced you to match nail polish with her, a subtle way to claim you as hers to those in Zaun who eye you, thus you lay with your hand in hers.

Eventually she runs out of things to say and begins to just hum random tunes as the brush of the nail polish runs along your fingernails in a precise motion- as if she was painting on her newest creations. "Pink, blue, pink, blue~" When she's done she blows on them to help dry them faster.

"Jiiinx, that tickles," you whine, causing her to eye you with a mischievous smirk. At the quiet, you peak an eye open, which you regret as that's when Jinx pounces, straddling your lap and tickling you with a menacing laughter escaping her lips. "N- No! St- Stop! Please! I c- can't!" You squeak between laughing, thrashing around as she continues her attack- eventually you manage to get her off, but she looks ready to lunge at you any time.

"If you keep it up I won't let you finish my nails-" You lightly threaten, which causes her to hesitate, but she ultimately decides that maybe you could pull off a one-handed nail polish thing before attacking you again.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

MEL MEDARDA

stationery (pen).

It was a beautiful fountain pen with gold accents, and along the side in beautiful calligraphy was engraved 'forever.' It was by far Mel's favorite pen, it wrote smoothly, was beautiful to look at, but even more than that, it was a reminder of why she did what she did. For at home there was a matching counterpart to this pen, engraved with 'and always,' that always had her thinking about you.

Late nights had long since become a part of her routine, but the pen weighed heavy, like a message for her to wrap up her work before it got too late, and head home into the loving arms of you. So that's what she did. Mel wrapped up the last of her paperwork for the day before leaving, the commute home quiet as she fiddles with the pen, thinking of what you did throughout the day.

She smiled as she thought about how you'd greet her home, wrap your arms around her, kiss her. You'd pull her into the dining room and tell her about your day, chatting over dinner. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice when the carriage pulled up outside her estate.

It wasn't until your head peaked out the door that she was pulled out of her daydream, tucking the pen safely into her purse. She exited the carriage, her tired and weary body carrying her towards you until she was inside, ready to finally relax after a long, hard day.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

SEVIKA

whiskey glasses.

Idiots. She swore everyone she had to work with were idiots and purposely made her work harder to do. Sevika was much too ready to return home, and upon doing so, pulled out the matching whiskey glasses. You entered the room, sitting yourself on to the kitchen counters.

"That bad, huh?" You ask, accepting her offer and taking the whiskey glass. She sighs, shaking her head. She didn't even know where to begin, but she decided on pouring herself a glass was a good start. You listen to her complaints, your finger outlining the simple design on the glass. Yours and Sevika's initials engraved into the glass- a gift from a friend.

Sevika downs the rest of her drink after she finishes telling you about her day, and you decide to bring over the bottle as you sit with her on the couch. "Whatever, I don't want to think about it anymore." She grumbles, taking the bottle and taking a swig from it. She wraps her mechanical arm around you, pulling you in closer to her.

"Tell me about your day instead," She insists, watching the way you try to mimic her in taking a swig of your drink- it goes down less smoothly than Sevika made it out to be. She chuckles at the way you cough a little, and then at the way you throw her a glare. She's quiet though, when you finally tell her about your day. It's these small moments that have her thinking about just how lucky she is.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VIKTOR

keychain.

"Vik, look at this!" You call him over, holding up the matching keychains for him to see. They were in the shape of puzzle pieces, and when they got close, they connected with a magnet. "Aren't these cute?" You hand them over to him and he looks over them inquisitively.

"Very," He says, before looking up at you with a small smile. "Should we get them?" He asks, though he already knew the answer. You try to act nonchalant, shrugging your shoulders and saying if 'he wanted to you two could get'em' but it was obviously all an act.

"I don't think we could leave without them." Viktor chuckles, because if there was anything Viktor loved more than his work it was indulging your whimsy. Thus the keychains were promptly bought and put to use. It was the only "fun" keychain on Viktor's, which only made it all the more special to you.

"Wait, but now we have to separate them," You realize, feeling a little guilty for forcing the two puzzle pieces to be away from each other. Viktor sighs, holding his half of the puzzle piece up for you to connect.

"It matters not the time they spend apart, as they're made for each other, and will inevitably always meet in the end."

Did he not realize he just said the most romantic thing to you? And now he's shocked you're tearing up? smh

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

VI

boxing gloves.

"One, two, one, two," Hitting the striking pads, Vi stood sturdy despite you putting your full force into each hit. Breathless, sweaty, and pretty tired, Vi decides a break is well in order for you both. You thank whatever god took mercy on you and take off your boxing gloves as you search for your water.

"Hey, babe..." Vi is rummaging around in her duffle bag, the crease between her brown deepening as what she searches for continues to evade her. "Did you take my gloves?" You look up at her, before looking down at the gloves. Inside on the label, written in sharpy, is the name 'VI' clearly written.

Sheepishly you hand them back to her, "Sorry, I thought they were mine," You say, now wondering where you last put the matching boxing gloves Vi had gotten you last year. In retrospect, Vi realizes that maybe getting you the exact same pair would inevitably lead to this situation.

"Nah, it's fine. I like when you wear my stuff anyways." She teases, enjoying the way you grow flustered at her words. She always had to say something in order to mess with you, and sadly for you, it always worked.