#and you are standing up for the people close to you they hurt and they are getting angry at the person you stood up for
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Do you write for Grayson by any chance? I really wished we got see more of her before her unfortunate demise
Sevika, Ambessa, Grayson
i write for anyone! and you can request a separate thing for grayson if you'd like but I decided to do the 3 butches in 1 so here's some random stuff for them <3 (this is needed after the pain of act 3)
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Ambessa doesn't love often, but when she does, she loves HARD.
Since you're close to her, she is constantly worried people about hurting you to get to her.
You might have enforcers on you 24/7 unless you tell her to stop and if that's the case. She will follow you around herself. Making sure people know you are always under a close watch by her.
When you walk in public together, she likes you to have your arms wrapped around her bicep/forearm, keeping you as close as possible.
If that's not in your taste she will sling a heavy arm over your shoulder, careful not to weigh you down.
She is always buying you expensive and lavish clothing. If your gaze lingers on anything for too long, you'll see it at your doorstep the next day.
When you see a nice shop you like she's going to take you in and make you try on clothes for her. Putting her hand on your waist as she spins you around. Inviting you to stand between her spread legs so she can see the details better.
If you like to wear heels and your feet start to get tired, she will sit you down and take them off your feet herself, opting to carry you around for the next few hours.
When she carries you, you can see all the scars on her arms and face in full detail. She doesn't seem to mind your staring and might even take pride in herself.
As you're cuddling, she loves it when you trace your fingers over her scars, admiring every bump and edge. She will tell you dramatic stories about how she got them. (Definitely exaggerating some details.)
You could talk together for ages, bringing up random stories and irrelevant details. Her rough hands combing through your hair, or massaging your shoulders.
This was a weekly thing in the hot springs. She sits on the ledge above you while your shoulders slot themselves between her thick, scarred thighs.
She will take care of you without expecting anything back, but she definitely loves it when you return the favor. She will rest her head on your thighs and groan in pleasure when you massage her temples or scalp.
Grayson is a romantic, she will be showing up at your door with flowers in hand.
If she met you in Zaun, she will insist on taking you out on a fancy dinner date at her favorite Piltover resteraunt.
If you refuse, that's okay too. She's fine with eating at any of Zaun's resteraunts. (Just not seafood, please.)
She's asking you what your favorite flower is so she can bring you those instead next time.
And if you are a Zaunite, she isn't ashamed of your relationship, showing you off proudly. After all, all the enforcers do look up to her. What are they going to do?
If you don't know how to shoot, she will be more than pleased to teach you. Your back is pressed against her warm chest as she wraps her arms around you to hold the gun steady.
Her rough voice firmly commands you on where to put your hands and which parts do what.
Speaking of her voice, she knows you love it when she whispers sweet nothings in your ear before you drift off to sleep. Her muscled arm cushioning your head and cradling you close to her chest.
It's easy for her to fall asleep once she knows you're safe and comfortable. (That's why she insists on moving in together.
Actually, she insists on doing a lot of things together. For example, she appreciates when you work out with her, sitting on her back while she does pushups, or maybe spotting her while she presses some weight. (Not that she needs it. She just wants you close)
She instructs you on what workouts you can do and where to place her hands, maybe placing hers on yours for a bit too long.
You can see the sweat gleam on her forehead and the veins in her forearm after every set she completes. This is a sight you can grow to appreciate.
She definitely subtlety flexes when you touch her arm or basically anywhere else she can possibly bring herself to flex. (You notice)
Sevika is the gentlest giant. At first, you might assume her tone is rough and condescending. But after some time, you start to see through her facade.
Her tone around is more firm and calm. It's more around you than anyone else. She tries not to get aggressive or angry with you.
And if she does, she's immediately making it up to you in every way but saying "sorry"
She's bringing you your favroite foods, giving you a little more affection than usual, reluctantly letting you fidget with her mechanical arm.
She does take you out to places, albeit not the fanciest. She makes do with what Zaun has to offer. Buying you a drink at the bar or a trip across the city.
Although she's not really a big fan of PDA, she will let you hold her arm while walking around Zaun. She swears it's a safety precaution to make sure no creeps get close.
When she plays cards at the bar, you are always beside her, no arguements. She doesn't want you sitting by any of the other shady men that play with her.
Maybe if there is few enough people you can sit in her lap and light her cigarillo for her.
What you don't do in public is definitely made up for in private.
She lays on your lap after a long day, taking deep inhales into your stomach to calm down. Grabbing your hand, she'll encourage you to run your fingers through her hair.
Let's you hold her face in your hands and trace her intricate scar while her eyes are closed, completely letting her guard down.
Her large hand engulfs your own as she cradles your hand close to her face, imprinting this memory in her mind.
Just know she is extremely touch starved. Most of the touching she gets all day is punches and kicks, nothing close to the gentle sweep of your fingers on her exposed skin.
She isn't a big gift giver, but if you give her a neat suprise, like an expensive zippo or a new shirt (God knows she needs one) you swear you see a small tear in the corner of her eye. Maybe its just the light.
But who cares because her lips will immediately be on yours, engulfed in a hot kiss.
i feel like sevika needed more screen time in the last act but its okay as long as she didn't die...
#arcane#sevika#sevika x reader#lesbian#sevika arcane#arcane sevika#sevika arcane x reader#arcane netflix#wlw#grayson#grayons x reader#grayson arcane#ambessa#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#ambessa x reader#ambessa x reader arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane s2#arcane season two#arcane x reader#arcane act three
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Was reading some posts about HDG, written by someone outside the community.
What absolutely struck me is the lack of understanding about how the setting works.
First and foremost, I don't care what anyone says, it's a disability narrative. All the kink, and layers of horror and imperialism is in service to the disability narrative.
Because when your body or mind do not function like you expect them to, it's fucking horrific.
It's goddamn terrifying when my legs give out climbing the stairs, it's horrifying when I lose my ability to speak when I get overwhelmed and my stutter comes out full force, when I can't move because the pain from my knee is so intense I lose vision.
Quite often when I am like that I don't want help, I don't want anyone near me, I will actively refuse assistance. This is because of pride, fear, shame, a multitude of reasons. I don't want care, but I need it nonetheless.
One of the most powerful and meaningful things my current partner has ever done for me was telling me to shut the fuck up and let her help.
I needed to be forced to let her help me, despite being in so much pain moving made me scream.
She still needs to make me take painkillers, because I won't on my own.
This kind of care is an intrinsic part of HDG, you are so hurt you can't figure out what you need, so we will do it for you, and we will make you if needed.
Additionally, at least for me, another aspect is knowing that the people you care about are being cared for too.
A huge chunk of my life and daily stress is making sure my friends and lovers are okay, making sure I have enough reserve cash if I need to support or be able to make an emergency trip, anything at all to prevent another fucking lost friend and tearful memorial before their names get added to my sad list of loss.
I *know* I am deeply traumatized by loss, by closed casket funerals, of self inflicted wounds. Because I wasn't there, or fast enough, or didn't notice the signs in time.
I have as a result made myself into the kind of person that will drop Anything to be there. To drive across the country at a moment's notice because there was a Possibility that my friend needed me.
In the world of HDG, that isn't needed, everyone is going to be cared for and safe, and I would be able to finally rest. To relax. To enjoy the beauty of my friends instead of standing watch.
And that is a disability narrative too.
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patch you right up — a r.c drabble.
★ pairing: rafe cameron x frenemy!reader, enemies to ?? ★ genre: hurt/comfort, unresolved feelings. ★ warnings: cussing, mentions of being drunk, violence, mentions of wounds and treating them. ★ a/n : urm very...random, silly, might not make sense but it was rotting in my mind, lmk what you think <3 ★ w.c : 1.1k
“This was very fucking stupid of me.”
Hissing in pain as the hydrogen peroxide made contact with your torn knuckles on your hand, you held your bruised jaw with the free hand and looked away from the blood glistening because of the light above.
“Oh you don’t say?” His voice was mocking, nothing new but it held an underlying annoyance you could somehow detect.
Sighing, you pulled your hand abruptly, which earned you a sharp turn of his head in your direction and his dark blue eyes glaring at you, “What are you doing?”
“You don’t have to do this-”
“Shut up.”
“No I mean it, Rafe. It’s my fault, ‘ll patch it up myself.”
It did not help how horrible your head seemed to ache as you shut your eyes briefly, everything felt overwhelming, especially with him being this close to you. Him just anywhere near you was enough to drive you a little over the edge and it seemed to get worse when you had a bit too much liquid courage in your system.
“Look at me.” You hated how easily you complied as you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, only this time, they were much softer.
That wasn’t hard to do, considering the position you were in. On his impossibly large bathroom counter as he stood between your legs, really you didn’t have much to look at.
“It’s not your fault, alright?” You spited it when people would always give you fake sentences for the sake of being ‘kind’, it was all sugar coated shit to you. But somehow when Rafe Cameron said that to you, your heart felt like it would combust then and there.
It didn’t help how the daziness was elevated as you scanned his features up close. He was unrealistically beautiful, carved gently.
Because he was who he was, you knew he meant what he said. For all the time you knew him, he was one to be honest. About how he felt, about what he felt and for who he felt. Though, when you questioned yourself what he might feel for you now, you’d say you don’t know.
Nodding along to his words, you leaned to your left, luckily having a wall to support you and not embarrassingly falling, you’d done enough that night.
Without more words, he gently grabbed your hand and finished cleaning up the burst skin and spilled blood. You once again shut your eyes, this time tightly as you clenched your jaw when he applied ointment.
“ ‘hurts.” The treating part made you wince even more than when you were getting the injury. Probably how most of the adrenaline wore out by now.
“I know, ‘almost done.” He gently spoke up as he concentrated on patching up a bandage around your hand.
A quiet silence filled the space for a moment, and even though you did feel out of it, you could sense he had something to say.
“Why-why’d you do it?” He said as he finished with your hand, instructing you to sit up straight. His hand on your jaw did make you more alert even though he was very…gently doing it. It was colder than you expected, and you were sure he could feel how warm you were getting when he was slowly caressing it with a delicate touch.
“That’s outta bruise badly.” His eyes held remorse and his frown deepened. You didn’t even realize your own gaze lingered on his lips.
Gulping, your eyes darted away from his face. Maybe it was the guilt or the buzz, but you murmured out,
“...I- it was well…It was stupid but I- couldn’t control myself. I got mad.”
His hand paused and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was new.
“They- they were saying stupid shit. I knew they were doing it to rile me and well they did that just right. It was fine when it was about me, I ignored it but I couldn’t stand the rest.”
Something in his chest flared as his confusion was slowly turning into realization but he continued letting you speak,
“They began talking shit about…about you.” You recalled the tone they used, the words they called him and you could feel the familiar annoyance and anger build up as they replayed in your mind.
“And I couldn’t stand it alright. I just…no one talks shit about you. No one except me. I mean, the fucking audacity to even say those…those things when they’re probably even worse!”
He blinked a few times to make sure he heard you right. You’d looked to the side, scowling as you clicked your tongue.
“Next thing I knew, I’d just hit someone and then the same happened to me. I guess maybe I deserved one but you should see the other idiot’s face.” You finally looked back into his eyes, a slight smile on your face when you recalled hearing the other dude’s nose definitely crunching and you were sure it would never be the same. You’d made it very sure.
He did not know what to feel. Amusement? Shock? Disbelief? But over them all, his heart fluttered wildly as his eyes scanned your face. The same one that had been haunting his mind since the first time he’d seen you, the first time he’d ever have someone make him more mad than anything yet made him want you closer. You were simply driving him insane since he’d met you.
He just never realized, until now, that maybe he was never the only one who felt the same.
Tilting your head, you licked your lower lip, his gaze moving there for a brief moment, you said, “But you know what?”
One corner of your lip turned up as you smirked lightly, “I don’t regret it. I’d do it again in fact.”
His tongue felt heavy as the words clogged up in his throat, he gulped down the knot formed as he clenched his hand that was beside you, over the counter edge. He stared intently into your eyes, you could feel your heart beating faster as you leaned closer.
Before you knew it, his lips were on yours as you fluttered your eyes shut, hand going over his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. His hands moved to your hips, pressing into them as if he was afraid you’d disappear and it was all a dream.
It was messy as you’d expect from two people whose own feelings were a mess, your non-injured hand ran over his hair and he groaned into the kiss. You might as well have just combusted then and there.
Feeling the need to breathe, you gently pulled away, resting your forehead on his as his hand came up to your face, caressing it gently.
“You’re fucking insane, you know that right?” He breathed out as he tried to steady his own breathing and rapidly beating heart.
“Over you? Fuck yeah.”
extra a/n : ...yeah I'm sorry if the uhm kissing part sucked...it's been a very whole while.
all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.
writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024
feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | misc masterlist | main masterlist | info !
#[ pri works ]#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#rafe x reader#rafe angst#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe x oc#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe outer banks#obx x reader#rafe fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe obx#outer banks#obx#obx 4#x gn reader
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a Second Chance | Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader
Summary: After being in a secret relationship with Rafe and becoming pregnant, he denied the entire relationship, making it known your son wasn’t his. However, he can’t deny it for much longer - your son is the spitting image of Rafe.
Part 1
A/N: This is a continuation of the fic above. This can be read as stand alone or you can read the other first for a bit of background on how things played out and telling Rafe you were expecting.
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912
**MASTERLIST**
Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED
** Rules for Requesting **
** Who I Write For **
********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS
Your son's giggles were music to your ears. You smiled in adoration at his uncle JJ chasing him through the yard, his little toddler legs moving as fast as they could. He loved his uncle JJ. And his other aunts and uncles too. After all the drama with Rafe, he and the other Pogues stepped in, becoming your village and boy are you glad you had them. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.
Rafe continued the story, the baby wasn’t his and you were never in a relationship. However, as time has passed, people are starting to get suspicious, especially as your son grows because he’s the spitting image of Rafe. It is getting to the point, Rafe truly can’t deny him.
“Come on boys, let's get to the beach before it gets crowded,” You call out to JJ and Jackson; the other Pogues loading up in the Twinkie. You and JJ worked hard, going in half on a car that JJ rebuilt to make it drivable. JJ knew the Twinkie wouldn’t be a safe vehicle to transport his tiny nephew and made it his mission to find you something sustainable and reliable.
“Mama!” Jackson squeals as he nears, jumping into your arms.
You laugh and kiss his head before placing him in his carseat and securing him. “Ready to go to the beach?”
He nods with a big grin; Rafe’s smile. The smile you’d fell in love with. You can’t deny it doesn’t hurt a little when you look at your son, because staring back is Rafe and all the hurt that came with him. But you wouldn’t trade Jackson for anything in the world. He’d brought light into your life and filled your broken heart. Jackson is so smart and intelligent, even at only 3 years old. He’s got a sweet and loving personality and he loves when he can make you laugh. And Rafe is missing it all, time he will never get back.
~
After settling at a spot on the beach, you all unpacked, setting the chairs and umbrella up. Pope dropping the cooler under the umbrella with a grunt, “jeez what the hell did you guys pack in that thing.”
Jackson started tugging you toward the water, “come mama!”
“No baby hold on, let's put sunscreen on first. Then you can get in the water.”
He pouts but stops tugging, letting you lather him in the sunscreen.
“Once mama is finished me and you can go check out those waves!” JJ holds his fist to Jackson, who returns with a fist bump.
“Alright you’re finished!” You kiss him on the head and he takes off toward the water with JJ. JJ picks him up and wades into the water with him. Jackson laughing hysterically as the waves crash against them.
“beer?” Kie asks, as you take a seat in the beach chair next to her.
"Yes thank you,” you sigh, taking a sip, “I love that the beach is nearly empty-”
Loud music catches you and the other Pogues attention, watching as a couple trucks and a jeep drive thru the sand behind you. You recognized Topper’s jeep and groaned.
“Please keep driving..” Sarah pleads.
“Anywhere but here.” Kie adds.
“Of course.” John B says as they stop a little ways down the beach, “This entire beach and they pick that spot?”
You take a sip of your beer, nearly choking on it as you see someone hop out of the dark blue truck. Rafe.
“Shit.” Kie mumbles.
He rounds the truck and opens the passenger side, another person gets out of the truck and it’s Sofia.
Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, “you gonna be ok?”
You give her a reassuring smile and nod, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine.” You gaze out at the ocean, JJ has noticed the kooks and he looks over at you, a look of concern on his face. You nod at him, letting him know you’re okay. He continues to play with Jackson, holding his hand as he stands with his toes in the sand, jumping over the waves as they break against the beach.
“We’re both adults here. Maybe me more than him but it’s ok.” You glance between Sarah and Kie, “He’s living his best life - while I raise our son that he denies is his.”
John B squeezes your shoulders, “And you’re doing a damn good job at it too.”
The rest of the Pogues pipe in, “Hell ya you are,” “You’re killing it.”
“Thanks you guys,” Your eyes dance between the Pogues, “I couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Your eyes grow teary, “Ok okay stop you guys are gonna make me cry,” You shake your hands out, wiping your face, “enough sappy talk. Let’s enjoy our beach day!”
~
Rafe watches you and the Pogues playing with Jackson by the water, taking a sip of his beer.
Sofia comes up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, “Her son is cute,” She says with a smile, looking up at him.
He hums in response, not pulling his eyes from you and Jackson. He knew now, there was no denying Jackson. He looked just like him. Topper flat out asked the other day if Jackson was his.
“He looks just like you man.”
Rafe shrugged, “I don’t see it. He’s not mine though. She was screwing everyone on the island. There’s no telling who the father is.” He tried to keep up with the lie, but Topper wasn’t stupid. Topper knew you weren’t sleeping around, you’d never been like that. But he let him continue the lie, dropping the topic completely.
“I bet our kids will be cute.”
Now that caught his attention. He snaps his head toward her, “What?”
Sofia smiles, “When we have kids, I bet they will be cute.” She’s in dreamland, wondering what life with Rafe Cameron would be like. Getting married, having a big house on the island, having kids etc etc. Little did she know, Rafe wasn’t planning a future with her.
He nod and takes another sip of his beer, deciding not to say anything.
“Jackson wait-”
Rafe turns in time to see a ball rolling his way and Jackson chasing it. You weren’t too far behind.
Rafe bends down and picks up the ball, staying at Jackson’s level as he approaches. Jackson is hesitant to take it.
“Jackson, you can’t just run off-”
Rafe feels like he’s staring at a mirror. Topper’s right, he looks just like him. The little boys eyes are innocent and he’s overcome with a feeling he can’t describe. He feels protective of the small boy in front of him, like a father would. A surge of love flowing through him. How could anyone leave this boy without a dad? How could he have abandoned his son? Something changed the moment he looked into Jackson’s eyes.
“Here you go, buddy,” Rafe holds the ball out to him with a smile.
Jackson hesitantly takes it, looking up at you, with a small pout on his lips, “Sorry mama, my ball.”
Rafe slowly stands, the two of you coming face to face for the first time since you told him you were pregnant.
“It’s ok baby, you just can’t run off like that.” You run your fingers through his hair. You will yourself to meet Rafe’s eyes, “Sorry about that, we’ll get out of your way.”
“It’s ok.” Rafe can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. Is it possible to be more beautiful? Motherhood treated you well and he’s overwhelmed with pride to know you did it all on your own because of his stupid decision. His stupid immature decision.
Your eyes glance to Sofia, who steps up next to Rafe, pulling him from his trance, “your son.. he’s adorable.”
You give her a small smile, “Thank you.”
Rafe is mesmerized by you. He doesn’t know what’s over come him but the feelings that he buried deep inside have started bubbling to the surface.
“Jackson, you know you’re not suppose to talk to strangers.” JJ takes a dig at Rafe as he approaches, scooping up Jackson in his arms.
Rafe’s jaw clenches at JJ’s comment. Stranger. He’s no stranger. He’s his father- but he catches himself. JJ’s right. He truly is a stranger to him and he has no right to call himself his father.
Jackson wraps his tiny arms around JJ’s neck, snuggling into his shoulder. That stirs some jealousy within Rafe. He should be the one hugging his son and playing ball with him on the beach. He should be the one there, the three of you as a family.
“We better get back. Sorry for bothering you guys.” You apologized, following JJ back to the rest of the pogues.
Rafe watches you walk away, his heart aching. He should have told you the truth. And he shouldn’t have lied all these years about Jackson.
~
JJ holds Jackson with one arm and wraps his other around your shoulders, “you ok?”
You nod, “I’m good. You shouldn’t have made the comment you did”
JJ rolls his eyes, “it’s not like it wasn’t true. He’s a stranger.”
You shrug, “I know but-“
“No buts. He’s a stranger to Jackson. Even if he shares DNA with him.” He snaps back.
It was a touchy subject with JJ and you knew the conversation was over. JJ was protective over you and he held a huge grudge against Rafe for abandoning the two of you. Especially Jackson. He wanted Jackson to have a dad, something you and him didn’t have growing up.
~
Rafe laid in bed that night with you and Jackson on his mind. He couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning the entire night. Sofia is sound asleep next to him. He squints, peering to check the time on the clock, 6:37 am. He sighs running a hand over his face before quietly getting out of bed and toward the shower. He wanted to see you again and talk. He needed to talk to you.
“Rafe?” Sofia’s sleepy voice calls out to him, hands feeling his spot on the bed.
Rafe comes to her side, showered and dressed, kisses her forehead. “Early meeting. Be back later.”
She hums and turns back over, falling back asleep.
~
He pulls up to the Maybank house a little while later. Glancing over in the passenger seat, coffee for you and him. He hopes you still liked your coffee with 2 creams and 2 sugars. He also picked up some muffins and donuts, unsure what Jackson would like.
He was nervous, gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he shouldn’t do this. He can still turn around and go home. You don’t even know he’s here yet.
He shakes his head, no there’s no talking him out of this. He needs to have this talk. He’s 2 years two late. Technically almost 3 years.
Well shit there’s no turning around now cause here you come walking toward his truck. He takes a deep breath, now or never.
He steps out of the truck, “morning.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” You ask tightening your robe around you, “it’s nearly 7:30 in the morning.”
“Brought coffee and breakfast.” He says, reaching inside to grab the coffee and bag. “I was hoping we could talk?”
“Now you want to talk? You’re a couple years too late Rafe.” You’re eyeing the coffee, yearning for your boost of caffeine.
He sighs, “I know, I have no right to show up here unannounced either but, after seeing you guys yesterday I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He offers the coffee, “two cream and two sugar?”
You nod, slowly reaching to take the coffee, “you still remember?” You ask, surprised. Even after all these years he remembered? You felt a soft tug on your heart. No y/n. You tell yourself, smooshing those feelings back down. It was not the time to go soft.
He shrugs, also handing you the bag of muffins and donuts, “It’s not the hardest coffee order, but yes I still remember. There’s muffins and donuts in there, I wasn’t sure-” He scratches the back of his neck, growing uncomfortable, “I wasn’t sure what Jackson liked.”
“He’s a fan of both. He pretty much will eat anything,” You turn and head for the porch, “Everyone is still asleep, let me put this inside and we can go to the dock.”
Rafe nods and takes the time to check out what all you two have done with the place. It was different than when he was here last, new dock and boathouse, the landscaping had been cleaned up and the house actually looked livable. Jackson’s toys were strewed around the grass.
“ready?” You ask, heading down toward the dock, Rafe following. You two take a seat on the bench at the end of the dock.
“So, now that Jackson is older, people are starting to notice how much he looks just like you. You can’t keep up with whatever lie you’ve been spreading. Are you here to try and make me come up with an excuse for where his father is? So, you can go about your life?” You ask, bitterly.
“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to step up and apologize. And explain my immature behavior.” He stands back up, pacing the dock in front of you. His nerves are getting the best of him. He had this speech all planned out but sitting in front of you, he’s forgot what to say. “I wasn’t in the right head space. And I for sure wasn’t ready to be a father. You saw what I was like. I was drinking, partying. Hell, I was even doing coke at that point.”
You sit quietly, sipping your coffee as you listen to him. It wasn’t anything you didn't know, to tell you the truth. You also were doing all those things at the time, minus the coke, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, you’d stepped up and knew all of that had to come to an end. You were going to be a mother.
“I was doing the same things, Rafe. I don’t see that being an excuse. I stepped up when I needed to because I had too. It was something you needed to do as well, but you weren’t ready to give up that life yet. You weren’t ready to give up your lifestyle to become a father.”
“I know. and that’s the truth, I didn’t want to give up my partying lifestyle for a kid. I was also scared what people would think of me, getting a girl from the cut pregnant. No one even knew we were dating-”
“So you were ashamed of me? You’re really not doing yourself any favors right now-” You scoffed, standing, “I get it, Rafe. It would have been the worst thing for a kook to get a pogue pregnant. People would have judged you and never looked at you the same-” You turn to head back toward the house. “I’m so tired of this kook vs pogue bullshit.”
“Baby-” He gently grabs your arm to stop you, letting the pet name slip, “I mean y/n- That’s not what I was trying to say. Fuck, this is not how I wanted this to go. Please, I’m trying to apologize. I was an immature kid back then and I’m here now to apologize, make things right and take responsibility.”
“Rafe,” you sigh, “we’re doing fine right now. Without having you in our lives. We’ve made it work. It’s been 3 years, just let it go. I’ll keep on with the lie, you can continue to live your life how you want. Get married, have other kids. Whatever you want to do.”
“I don’t want to do that, y/n. That’s what I’m here for. I want to be apart of Jackson’s life. A part of your life.” His hand has slipped down from your arm to your hand, his thumb subconsciously caressing your skin. “Please give me another chance. I’ve changed. I promise I’m not the man I was before. My dad has made me a manager at his company. I have a steady job, a house of my own. I’m not the immature teenager I was before.” His eyes are pleading for another chance to do the right thing.
You don’t know how to describe it as you stare into Rafe’s eyes, that they look the same as they did when you fell in love with him, but have a different softness to them. He’s genuine. But you don’t know if you can trust him. He broke you and you weren’t ready to open those doors again. You weren’t ready to open yourself back to him. You had Jackson to think about now and had to take his feeling into account. Could you trust Rafe?
“What about Sofia? What does she think of all this?” You remove your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. “She seems like a great girl.”
“If I’m honest with you, I haven’t talked to her about it. Me and her aren’t serious.”
“Maybe you should go home and talk things over with her. I can’t make a decision now. I need time to think it over.”
His shoulders sag in defeat, but he ultimately nods, “Take all the time you need.. I’ll be here waiting.”
~
Rafe left your house and immediately went to Tannyhill, hoping he could catch his dad before leaving for his meeting at 11. “Morning Rose,” He greets as he enters the kitchen, Rose is drinking coffee at the island, Wheezie next to her. He kisses Wheezie on the head, “Wheezie,”
“Morning,” They say in unison.
“Is Dad still here?”
“In his office,” Rose nods, “He had a couple things to finish before the meeting.”
“Thanks,” Rafe heads toward his office, knocking, “Dad?”
“Come in,” Ward calls out, “Morning Rafe, you ready for the big meeting this morning?”
“Ready. But I was hoping to talk to you about something.” He takes a seat across from Ward’s desk. Ward can tell there is something on his son’s mind and closes his laptop to give his full attention.
“What’s going on?”
Rafe takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, “You know y/n Maybank?”
“Yes-” Ward says, leaning forward a little, “What about her?”
“Me and her dated a few years ago.”
“Mmhmm.” ward nods, “What about it?”
Rafe takes another deep shaky breath. Ward begins to think about it, remembering she had a son. Who was about 3-
“The boy- Jackson. He’s yours?” Ward asks in disbelief.
Rafe gives a short nod, “I fucked up.”
Ward slowly sits back in his chair, taking it all in. Old Ward would have blown up, told Rafe how stupid could he have been. “How long have you known?” He asks.
“Since she told me she was pregnant.” He can’t help but get teary eyed, still on edge as he waits for his dad to blow up on him. “I told you I fucked up.”
Ward mulls over this new and shocking information. “Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Ward asks.
“I was terrified. Immature. I didn’t want to be a dad. I was partying all the time and wasn’t ready to give it up and be a dad.” He tells him honestly, “It was a shitty decision and I regret it.”
“You should have took responsibility son.” He sighs, “But I know you weren’t in the right head space.” He stands and rounds his large desk, taking the seat next to his son, “Rehab changed you for the better.”
Rafe nods, “I’m trying to fix things. I want to be in his life. I went to her this morning and we talked. She’s hesitant to give me a chance.”
“She has every right to be hesitant.” Ward defends, you, “That’s her son.”
“He’s mine too,” Rafe says, but sighs, “But you’re right. It is her son. I’ve given her no reason to trust me.”
Ward nods, “Time will give her that. You’ve done the hardest part. Admitted you were wrong and apologized.” He squeezes Rafe’s shoulder, “It’s time for you to take responsibility.”
Rafe nods in response, “I’m sorry dad. I should have told you the truth.”
Ward agrees. He gives Rafe a small smile, “So I have a grandson, huh?”
~
Rafe was in agony. It had been a week since he talked to you. You hadn’t tried reaching out yet and he was starting to get worried that you weren’t going to give him a second chance. He’d called it quits with Sofia, who didn’t take it easily, but she admitted she knew she’d seen a change in him after the beach day. And had admitted she’d wondered about Jackson. She saw the resemblance and the way Rafe had looked at you. He was still in love with you.
You’d told the Pogues that morning over breakfast, JJ had flipped.
“Like hell he deserves another chance!”
“JJ, you don’t get to make the decision, I do.”
JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed. It wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again.
JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed that it wasn’t his place, but he still didn’t trust him. He didn’t want to see you hurt again.
~
Your heart is pounding against your chest as you take the stairs up to Rafe’s front door. You looked around the outside of the house. It was a nice, expensive house on the water. Two story on stilts as most houses near water are built.
His truck was parked under the house so you knew he was home.
You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
Rafe was surprised to see you at his front door. It had been a week and he was beginning to wonder if you were even gonna make a decision. The longer it took the more he felt he wasn’t going to get his second chance.
“Hey,”
“Hey,” you point inside, “can I come in so we can talk?”
“Yeah yeah of course.” He opens the door wider for you to enter, closing it behind you.
The place was clean and sleek. It looked like a bachelor pad.
“You want anything to drink? I’ve got water, juice, a beer..” he chuckles softly, motioning to the kitchen.
You follow him into the kitchen, “Water is fine,” You lay your purse in the chair at the island. “I’m gonna be honest, I’m nervous.”
He fixes you a glass of water and you take a chance to look around the room.
“no need to be nervous,”
You see in the corner of the living room there’s a small kids battery powered jeep and a couple other shopping bags around it.
He sees you have noticed the stuff and slides the water to you, “my dad.. he uh he bought it for Jackson and Rose picked up a few things for him too.”
“Thats’s very sweet of them. But wait, you told your dad?” You’re surprised and look to him, “I thought you hated him.. you guys didn’t have a great relationship.”
“We patched things up after I got back from rehab.”
“Rehab?” You ask shocked, “I didn’t know, when did you go to rehab?”
He clears his throat, “few months after we broke up. Or I broke things off. Ward found me half dead on some laced coke I bought and when I woke up he made me go to rehab. Best decision I could have made.”
“That’s awesome, Rafe. Im happy for you. I know having a better relationship with your dad was what you always talked about wanting.” You give him a soft smile.
“Yeah yeah it’s good now.” He heads toward the back deck overlooking the water and you follow taking in the view but Rafe, he’s watching you, taking you in.
You catch him watching you and can’t help but blush, “why are you looking at me like that?”
Now he blushes, embarrassed he’d been caught, “sorry, we can sit here to talk.” He takes a seat on the couch and you take a seat on the other side.
You take a deep breath, “I’ve done a lot of thinking over this.”
He nods, hands clasped together he places his elbows on his thighs leaning closer, “yeah?”
You look at him, “We’ll start out easy and slow. He’s not to know you’re his dad yet. I want him to be comfortable with you. He doesn’t truly understand the whole dad thing either, so I don’t want to confuse him. We call all hang out together first and then if I feel comfortable enough maybe you can take him on your own for a couple hours. I don’t trust you yet, Rafe. You broke that trust and I need time. But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And I want Jackson to grow up with a dad who loves him. Something JJ and I didn’t have growing up.”
He resists every muscle in his body not to hug you. “I can be that. I will be that.”
He reaches over and you let him take your hand, “thank you for this.” He gives it a gentle squeeze, “you don’t know how much this chance means to me.”
~
A couple days later you and Jackson meet Rafe at his house, planning to spend the day there. Rafe had asked you a million questions about Jackson; his likes, dislikes, what toys he liked to play with, what he liked to do. He wanted to know as much as he could so he could be prepared for today.
“Hey!” Rafe greets at the door, “What’s up little man?”
Jackson’s shy at first and he peeks out from your shoulder at Rafe, muttering a quiet, “Hi.”
“He’s a little shy. And he just woke up from a nap.” you follow Rafe inside and he helps to take the bag off your shoulders.
“It’s all good. I understand.” He nervously wipes his hands on his shorts, “I got his favorite foods. The kitchen is stocked and-”
“Toys!” Jackson gasps, wiggling out of your arms and immediately taking off toward the pile of toys. The jeep Ward bought him was there and a couple other new toys Rafe picked up.
“Can I play?” Jackson asks, his eyes lighting up.
“They’re yours! You can play with them all. After lunch we can take that jeep outside and you can ride around the yard.” Rafe says, taking a seat on the couch to watch him.
“You didn’t have to get all these...” You sit next to Rafe.
Rafe shrugs, “I know but he didn’t have anything here. I want him to be comfortable.” He slips off the couch and sits in the floor next to Jackson, helping him open the toys. Rafe teaches him how to play with a couple of them, showing him how they work.
You couldn’t believe the change in Rafe. It was like a different man sitting in the floor. And the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had the same look of concentration on their face and you laughed softly to yourself after snapping a picture. Sarah had asked how it was going, so you sent her the picture. She was happy to know her brother was stepping up and also made a comment about their same look of concentration.
As you stared at Rafe, a new feeling was starting to take form. A longing for something more and hope that maybe you could get your happy ever after and your dream of a family to become a reality.
Comments, likes, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! I love to read your thoughts on it.
#Rafe Cameron imagines#Rafe Cameron imagine#Rafe Cameron fanfiction#Rafe Cameron fanfic#Rafe Cameron fanfics#Rafe Cameron fic#Rafe Cameron fics#Rafe Cameron x reader#Rafe Cameron x reader fic#Rafe Cameron x reader insert#rafe cameron x female!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#obx imagine#obx imagines#obx fanfic#obx fanfics#obx fics#obx fanfiction#obx fic#rafe cameron x maybank!reader
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Billie’s friends making fun of little gf reader making her cry but she doesn’t tell Billie until one day she overhears what her friends are saying💖
Bullies
Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader
Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, Billie’s friends being mean, bullying, Billie getting angry but not at reader
Billie’s new friends were coming over today and you were not excited whatsoever. They made fun of you and your age regression which obviously made you sad and cry. Billie didn’t know about any of this happening and you didn’t plan to. Even though they were being mean and making you cry, you didn’t want billie getting mad at you for thinking you were lying to her or maybe she would agree with them and leave you.
You were overthinking every possibility and it all ended badly so you decided to keep your mouth shut and just let them say whatever. You were playing in the living room when they came piling up in the house with Billie laughing behind them. “I’ll get us some snacks and drinks. Do you want anything babygirl?” Billie asked you with a smile. “M-mys juice pwease mama…” you said quietly as you didn’t wanna talk in front of her friends. “Good girl for using your words! I’ll be right back.” She said happily as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving you alone with her friends that were giving you smirks.
“Awwww your mommy gonna give you some juice?” One of them said in a high pitched voice making you whimper under your breath. “Yeah, I bet it will be in a little sippy cup.” Another one chimed in as they all started to laugh and point at you making you turn your head to ignore them. “Hey! Didn’t your precious mommy tell you not to ignore people when they are talking to you, inconsiderate bitch.” One of them snarled at you and you quickly looked up to see them all smirking at you. “I don’t know why Billie is even with you, if I was her, I would spit in your face and leave immediately. You’re such a freak.” One spat out and you felt yourself sobbing in the middle of the living room with them laughing at you.
“Call her a freak again and see if I don’t come over and kick y’all’s asses.” Billie said sternly as she comes into the living room with your sippy in one hand and snacks in the other. “Mommy!” You gasped in surprise but she didn’t look your way just yet, not wanting to scare you with the look on her face. “Get the fuck out of my house right now.” Billie said coldly as she sets down the snacks and your sippy cup on the nearest desk that was near her and she walks over to you. Billie stands in front of you as her old friends all get up, them getting scared as Billie looks like she was gonna kill them. “B-Billie I promise it was all a joke. Right y/n?” One of them said and they gave you eyes that said “you better not fucking rat us out” but you shook your head instead, then they started glaring at you which made billie more pissed.
“You guys are fucking pathetic. You guys know I trusted y’all with this and you guys seemed so understanding about it. Now I can clearly see that y’all are not and you had the balls to make fun of my girlfriend AND make her cry. Leave my house and never fucking come here and contact me again.” Billie spat out and they all rolled their eyes and left the house, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie looked down and saw your tear stained face and she immediately lifted you up in her arms. “It’s okay babygirl. Mama is here now.” Billie said quietly as she holds you close to her as you clung onto her like a koala. “You won’t have to see them ever again.” She reassured you and you nodded your head against her chest. “How long has this been happening sweet girl?” Billie asked you gently and you shyly hid in the crook of her neck.
Billie frowned and rubbed your back “it’s okay baby. I’m not gonna get mad at you. You can trust mama.” She said and you shifted and looked up at her with sad eyes. “E-evers since w-wes tolds dems a-abouts I-it’s…” you stuttered and you felt Billie hold her breath in. “That was a four months ago baby…why didn’t you tell mama?” She gasped quietly and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. “S-scared…Nu wan chu to lose chu friends.” You said and Billie leaned down to give you a long kiss on your forehead. “Babygirl. I don’t wanna be friends with people who make fun of you and make you cry, you understand me?” She said looking in your eyes and you nodded your head slowly. “That’s my good girl. Now. Do you wanna sit and watch some cartoons with mommy?” She said happily and your face beamed up at her. “Wes Pweasie mommy!” You bounced in her arms which caused her to laugh. She carried you over where she placed down your juice and snacks and gave you your sippy. You immediately grabbed it and thanked her as you started sipping on it happily. Billie carried you back into the living room where she sat on the couch, with you still in her arms. She grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite movies and you leaned back into her while drinking your juice. As you watched, Billie was looking down at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes. No one was gonna mess with her baby ever again when she’s around.
A/n: hey guys! Glad to be back, gonna try and post more and get out all these requests so I can get prepared for Christmas so I’m excited. Thank you for the request anon and I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)
#billie eilish imagine#billie#billie eilish blurb#billie eilish fic#billie eilish oneshot#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#eilish#billie eilish#caregiver!billie eilish#caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader#mommy!billieeilish#mommy!billie eilish x reader#mommy!billie eilish x little!reader#daddy!billie eilish#sfw little post#mommy sfw#sfw agere#sfw#sfw regression#sfw little community#sfw littlespace#sfw little blog#sfw interaction only#sfw caregiver#wlw sfw#safe agere
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“warn” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 562 words
“James Fleamont Potter!” Regulus bursts into James’ living room.
“What did I do?” James immediately stands up from the couch and is promptly smacked in the chest.
“You didn’t tell me what Barty did.” Regulus snaps.
“Erm…?” James looks at him very confused.
“He gave you the talk.”
“Er, Reg, I already know where babies come from, and we don’t really need to worry about—”
“Not that talk, you idiot. The… the shovel talk… or whatever it’s called.”
“Oh yeah, he gave me that talk a few weeks ago.” James says simply.
“And why am I just finding out about it now?” James just sort of shrugs, he honestly doesn’t understand why Regulus is so upset. “James!” James gets smacked again but this time he catches Regulus’ wrist and pulls him into his chest.
“Reg, it’s fine. He just wanted to warn me not to hurt you. Which I never would, so it really wasn’t a big deal.” James wraps his arms around Regulus’ waist.
“He said he threatened you.” Regulus pouts.
“Well, yeah. It wouldn’t be much of a warning without a threat. But honestly, his was the least threatening of them all, so—”
Regulus pulls out of James’ arms. “What do you mean ‘of them all’? How many were there?”
“Erm… Three?… and a half?”
“A half?”
“Yeah, there’s Barty, and he just threatened to kill me, so that’s not too bad. Then there’s Sirius and he was a bit scarier, but only because he knows me so well, so he knows what would hurt me the most, and he was not afraid to threaten me with it. Then there’s Remus, but he was sort of half you, half Sirius. He cares about you, so he obviously doesn’t want me to hurt you. But if I did, then Sirius would have to follow through with his threats, so Remus would also have to deal with whatever Sirius-level drama comes after that, and that’s never fun. So, he threatened me half because of you, half because of Sirius. And then…” James feels a literal chill run down his spine. “Well… then there’s… erm… there’s Pandora, and she was truly terrifying.” James finishes with a shiver.
“Pan… Pandora?” Regulus asks and James nods. “Soft, sweet Pandora, whose best friend is a caterpillar, was the most terrifying?”
“Yes!!” James yelps. Regulus gives him an incredulous and slightly amused look. “Have you ever been threatened by Pandora!?” James asks.
“No.” Regulus chuckles.
“I do not recommend it. I had nightmares for a week!” James shivers again just at the thought.
“What did she say to you?”
“I will not repeat that!!” James shrieks. “I’d probably accidentally summon some horrible creature!”
Regulus laughs under his breath and walks over to wrap his arms around James’ neck. James instinctively wraps his around Regulus’ waist, pulling him as close as possible and takes a deep, steadying breath.
“I’m sorry they did that to you.” Regulus whispers.
“It’s really okay.” James whispers back. “I was sort of expecting it, and I would’ve been more surprised if they didn’t.” Regulus looks at him curiously. “You have a lot of people who love you, Reg. I knew they’d want to make sure I would never hurt you. And if I ever did, I’d deserve everything Pandora threatened, and more.”
Regulus rolls his eyes, but his cheeks also turn a lovely shade of pink. “You’re ridiculous.” He tells James, pulling him in for a kiss.
#honestly i'd be terrified of pandora also#it’s always the sweet ones you have to look out for#this was a long one today#but it started out a lot longer#i had to cut a lot out#but i might do an ‘extended version’ on ao3#we’ll see 🤷🏻♀️#regulus loves james#james loves regulus#jegulus#jegulus microfic#jegulus fanfiction#marauders fanfiction#regulus black#james potter#marauders#james x regulus#regulus x james#marauders era#harry potter marauders#harry potter#hp#hp marauders#dead gay wizards from the 70s#dead gay wizards#starchaser#sunseeker#jeggyverse microfic
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Thinking about old Worst Wolverine being called by each of the X men individually after they have a falling out because Logan injured a child very badly to the point the only reason they didn't die is because another classmates healing abilities all while he just... walked away.
Well- ran.. away... leaving a child to die. He's tried to explain thousands of times that he blacked out, that he didn't remember doing any of this. He tries to say that maybe it was someone else, that mystique did this shit all the time in his universe.
"Yeah, well!? This isn't your universe! Because the REAL Logan would never do this.." Scott screams at him as Logan leaves the Mansion for the last time. He doesn't come back. He didn't even get to tell his Xkits goodbye. It got to the point where Laura dropped out, taking Gabby with her, wanting nothing to do with the school anymore.
So now, here he is. In Maine, an old fisherman, part-time hunter, and the only people he lets around him have healing factors.
He lives with Wade, who still- by the way- doesn't have any grey hairs (maybe because hes bald but- yk)
One night, while Logan is out, making himself feel useful by feeding the small town they're in, providing for more poor families, feeding their children's hungry mouths and asking nothing in return but respect. (It gets to the point that the children cheer when they see Logan, wanting to hug him, but he growls at them to get off, too afraid of hurting them) Wade finally awnsers the ringing phone.
"What." There's vemon in his tone, but soon his eyes widden, and he frowns.
Walking outside he stands there a moment, knowing Logan can hear him.
He ignores him, looking at the fish, litsening, his breathing slowing as he skewers some with his claws. Its not exactly spear fishing but- close.
"What?" His voice is almost annoyed, as if knowing what his long time Husband was about to ask him.
"Logan.."
"No."
"Logan-"
He shakes his head. "Don't care."
"...She's missing."
He pauses, turning after scraping the dead fish into a bucket. "Who's missing?"
"There's a little girl missing."
"So?"
"Logan!"
"I'm not helping them, Wade. That's final." He growls.
For a moment, Wade frowns, but he didn't learn to obey thy husband like the bible said.
He never did.
"Logan, there's a 6 year old out there. All alone. Cold. Probably going to be eaten by wolves!" He shouts from the back porch, knowing his place enough to stay here and not come near his fish. Even after all these years, Logan was still finicky over his food. "And all because some old fart won't help her!"
The silence thickened as Logan thought about it, the hero side of his brain yelling 'We'll find her!' And the hurt old part of him saying 'That's not my buisness.'
".. You find her then." He compromises.
"I can't! And if anyone knows those Canadian woods, it's you! You said you knew those forests like the back of your hand!" Wade protests. "If I could smell someone through miles of freezing snow, I would. But I can't. So here I am, asking The Wolverine to go do what he does best."
He grunts, glaring. "And that is?"
"Helping a little girl get back to her mommy..." Wade says, knowing that he was sold. He knew he was sold the moment he told him to do it himself. "She doesn't have much time, Logan." He sighs, putting a cherry on top.
The greyed man huffed, grumbling under his breath for a moment. "Who will stay here with the dog?"
"Gabby can! She loves gabs." Gott'em.
"What about Laura? Why can't she find her?"
Shit.
"Logan, Laura has barley been in those woods. You've lived in them for years. So. What will it be. Pull up your panties and go save a little girls life? Or do it anyway when our baby girl gets lost too?"
Logan scoffs, disappointed. "..She wouldn't get lost.."
"She would if the scent kept being blown away.."
Wade adds, seeing the 'god damn it, he's right.' look on the old mans brow.
He lets out a large sigh. "...I don't want any help."
"Oh well too fucking bad bucko, I'm gonna go pack my snow suit!"
"No! I mean... I don’t want any help from THEM.."
"No promises. I'm not letting poor Susie die just because you have a grudge. Now put your fish in the freezer and lets go! They're coming to pick us up-"
"I ain't flying!!" Logan snarls, watching as his lover ran off, having a deep feeling that he would be in the air shortly..
#search and rescue#find her au#old man logan#old man wade#scott summers#what if#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#wolverine#deadpool 3#deadclaws#logan wolverine#worst wolverine
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a house in the middle of nowhere l Joel Miller
Summary: you and Joel went on patrol together, nothing went your way
Warnings: angst, guns, switchblade, killing people, allusions to sexual abuse, blood
A/N: your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
# 1/2
"We should be reaching that building in a few minutes."
You nodded and didn't slow down when you heard Joel's footsteps behind you. The leaves crunched under your shoes and the air in the forest was pleasantly cool. It was as if you had done this before.
The flu that had been sweeping through Jackson for a few weeks now had also reached the people patrolling the area. Soon, Tommy had no choice but to ask you and Joel to start working together again.
Despite his concerns, he was pleasantly surprised - you were a great team. That's why he recommended you check out one of the buildings, which was a bit further from your trail.
"Looks good." You said, stopping in front of a small house standing near the end of the forest.
"Yeah. Too good." Joel mumbled. "Do you remember that..."
"I remember." You interrupted him, because your thoughts immediately drifted to a certain house you had found on your way to Jackson. "I saved your ass that time." You smiled, noticing the grimace on Joel's face.
"Keep telling yourself that, darling." he mumbled, heading towards the entrance.
But this time it was safe. The house was small and it took you a few minutes to check all the rooms. Apart from a few canned goods, a few old blankets and a dead bat in the bedroom, everything seemed long forgotten.
"This will be a good base for further patrols." Joel noted as you spread your things in the living room with the intention of spending the night there. "Once we check the area and make sure everything is safe."
You sat down on the dusty couch. The feeling that all this seemed strangely familiar to you filled you since your first joint patrol with Joel.
He didn't press you, he wasn't pushy. The safe distance you wanted to maintain was perceived by him, although you felt his gaze on you many times. You weren't without blame either. Your eyes often lingered on his broad shoulders for a few seconds longer than necessary. You missed him.
"We'll eat something and you can lie down." Joel announced, pulling sandwiches out of his backpack. "I'll take the first watch."
"There's water in the bathroom. Cold, but it's there." You noticed, doing the same as he did.
"Maybe the house is connected to a well. It's hard to tell right now." You handed him a cup of coffee. "Are you going to the party on Saturday?"
You looked at Joel, surprised. "Since when are you interested in parties in Jackson?"
He shrugged and chewed a bite of sandwich. "Ellie asked."
"Oh, did she say anything else?"
"That this new guy, Walsh, asked her about you."
Warmth crept up the back of your neck and you hoped Joel didn't notice your confusion. You weren't dating anyone, you didn't want to. But you knew what Miller was talking about. You and Walsh had been on a few patrols together, and you'd been seen together in the city too.
"Your coffee's getting cold, Joel." you replied, cutting off the discussion.
The room was filled with Joel's quiet snoring. You had been sitting by the window for almost two hours, observing the area. The first rays of sunlight were breaking through the treetops, and you only noticed a few squirrels and a hare.
Your spine was slowly starting to hurt, so you got up quietly and, trying not to wake Joel, you went to the door. Maybe you should have let him know you were leaving, but you saw how much he needed sleep. The lack of people meant that you were almost always outside Jackson, so that those who had families could rest or recover.
You quietly closed the door behind you and inhaled the fresh air. With your finger still near the trigger, you moved forward. The area was quiet, the fog was rising here and there between the trees, and even the birds were just waking up from their sleep.
An unexpected rustling behind you gave you goosebumps. You turned around sharply and saw a pair of rabbits disappearing behind the bushes.
"You scared me." You mumbled to yourself smiling "Don't do that again."
Then you heard a completely unfamiliar voice "I promise I won't do that again, doll."
You turned around sharply and saw the man behind you, then you felt something hit you and darkness engulfed you.
Something was tugging at you. You felt your wrists being tied. Some pushy hands searched all over you, and then someone patted your cheek.
"Doll, wake up!" the same voice, unfamiliar to you "Mike, you hit her too hard."
More steps and someone crouched down next to you. He brushed your hair away from your face.
"Such a pretty face, and look what you did." the first voice hissed "I hope you didn't break her nose."
"Do you need her nose for something?" Mike sneered and patted you on the cheek a few times "Hey! Get up!"
You moaned quietly and opened your eyelids. You almost immediately wanted to back away, but there was a tree behind you, and two men in front of you, who were staring at you with interest.
"Morning, doll." one of them greeted you with a smile "I'm Patrick, and you?"
You pressed your hands together violently, trying to get as far away from them as you could. It was impossible, you knew that.
Fuck! How could you be so careless? You had been with someone last time, but now...
You thought about the sleeping Joel. Maybe you had at least managed to get far enough away from the house that they wouldn't find him so quickly. Hopefully.
"Hey, bitch!" Mike nudged you in the shoulder, and your gaze immediately went to him. "Can you talk? I didn't knock your teeth out, did I?" he cackled as if he had told a good joke.
"No." You replied quietly.
"Good start." Patrick nodded, his eyes lazily moving over your face. There was something strange about him, something slippery and indecent. "Will you tell us what you're doing here, doll?"
"I was walking."
"You were walking." Patrick repeated after you, reaching out and pulling a blade of grass from your hair, there was something in his gesture that gave you shivers "Pretty girls like you shouldn't walk alone. Is anyone with you?"
You shook your head and Mike immediately spat in the grass.
“She's lying!” he growled, standing up. “I'm sure someone's nearby.”
Patrick frowned. 'Come on, I'll help you.' He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to your feet, then pinned you against a tree. 'Who's with you?' he hissed.
'I'm alone.' you repeated.
'Wrong answer.'
You flinched nervously as a knife blade flashed before your eyes. It was the same switchblade that Joel had given you. You carried it with you, they had to find it when they searched you.
“Listen to me carefully, doll.' Patrick moved the blade to your chest and soon you saw the first button on your shirt pop off, then the second. 'You'll tell us what we want, okay? Be a good girl. Maybe then I'll be gentle with you, huh? I wouldn't want to hurt you...' he made a sad face as if he was really sorry, two more buttons popped off. 'But I haven't had a warm pussy in a while, I might be too hard for you. Unless you like that? Do you like it, doll?"
"I'm alone." You managed to choke out, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "I swear. I... I got away from the group."
"That bitch is lying, I can feel it!" Mike growled, looking around the area. "Do what you have to and let's get out of here."
Patrick watched you closely. His gaze slid down to your chest, which was rising rapidly with every breath. Your bra peeked out from under your shirt, the outline of your breasts must have been clearly visible to him.
"You could have been good, doll..." he whispered. "We could have been something great."
"Please..." you groaned.
At that moment you heard a shot. You didn't know where it came from, but you saw Mike stagger and fall hard to the ground. In an instant Patrick looked up, then looked at you.
"Who is it?!" he growled angrily, pressing you against the trunk so hard that you felt something stab you painfully in the back.
"Your Death." you gasped.
Another shot and warm blood splattered on your face. You slid to the ground gasping for air. Patrick's body lay beneath your legs. Strong hands grabbed your arms and then your face.
"Are you okay?"
Joel!
You nodded your head violently. He noticed the bonds on your wrists and when he looked around he saw the switchblade lying in the grass. He quickly cut the rope. In a second your arms were wrapped around his neck and a quiet cry escaped your throat.
"It's okay, I've got you." he whispered, stroking your hair and back "You're safe."
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
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Jealous, jealous, jealous.
Summary: Little!reader spending the whole Midsummers playing with JJ and Rafe is feeling neglected.
Warnings: Age regression, slight angst, fluff in the end:)
Rafe took you with him to Midsummers, hoping that both of you would have a great time together, but unfortunately things didn’t go as planned. He was staying aside with his friends, watching you play with JJ for the whole night. Of course Rafe could’ve prevented that by paying you a little bit more attention, but he couldn’t because of how much that event meant for his family and especially for his father. So now he was just standing there and hoping that you would notice him or at least come up to ask for something, but it seemed that you didn’t need him while JJ was there. Rafe didn’t want to be that much of an asshole and pull you away from him since you seemed like you were having a lot of fun. He decided that he would speak about it with you later, in private.
When the party finally ended, Rafe had grabbed your hand, not even letting you say goodbye to JJ.
„Bye, little one!”
JJ shouted, waving his hand, causing Rafe to send him a warning glare. He’s going to have a little chat with your „friend” later. But for now he headed straight to his room, not even bothering to look at you. You could feel that he was disappointed with you or even angry, but you didn’t know what exactly you did wrong since you had been on your best behavior the whole evening. When he had closed the door, you were ready for him to tell the reason for his behavior, but instead he just silently turned around, probably not knowing what to say.
„Daddy, what happen’?”
It was something new—the side that you had never seemed before. What could you possibly have done for him to be this upset with you? You approached him, not touching him yet, just staring, waiting for him to turn around and say at least something. And he did.
„Did you have fun playing with JJ?”
His words weren’t harsh; he didn’t seem angry or furious, just... sad? It sounded like an actual question, so your little brain told you to come up with a sincere answer.
„Yeah! He gave me sweets and played with me!“
Rafe nodded before you saw something that you thought you would never see him doing. His eyes became watery before he finally teared up. In that moment you knew that you would do whatever it takes to never see that again; it was hurting you worse than any of his punishments or harsh words that he had said to you before.
„Baby, I know that I am not the best at taking care of you, so if you want to leave me, I would understand that and...”
He didn’t have a chance to finish. You immediately pulled him into your arms, giving him the biggest hug that you possibly could. You were trying to stay strong and not to start crying yourself, but you failed, letting out a few sniffles.
„I love you, Daddy, I don't want another Daddy, I pwomise.”
You said, and he finally hugged you back, pulling you closer in his embrace. Those words meant so much to him, especially after all the overthinking that he had going on in his head that night.
While he was holding you in his arms, he felt you poking his side and let out a small laugh, quickly catching your hand. He titled your head up, gently grabbing your chin with his fingers. Your face still had a string of tears, just like his.
Oh, you were both such a crybabies.
„No, bunny. That’s my method, and you don’t get to use it on me.”
He said, before quickly poking your tummy just to make you smile. Rafe then leaned down and kissed your cheeks, not able to hold himself back. He was so happy that you were still his. His sweet little girl.
„Let’s get that fancy dress off of you, and then we’ll go to bed. It’s almost your bedtime.”
You nodded, feeling a little tired and overwhelmed from all those new people you had to meet at the Midsummers. Usually it was hard for Rafe to put you in bed, but today you were too sleepy to argue.
„Oh, and also...”
His gaze met yours, and the small, sly smile appeared on his face for a second before he would say something that he knew you wouldn’t like.
„No sweets for a week.”
It wasn’t an actual punishment; he just wanted to have a little revenge on you. Your little pout was adorable to him, especially after everything you put him through tonight. But you didn’t argue with his decision.
After all, you deserved that, right?
Taglist: @tinylilacbun @aew-regression-cove @rafecameronsloverrrrr
#obx#rafe cameron x reader#age regression fic#little!reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#jj x reader#jj maybank
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Emotionally constipated Simon learns to open up with his emotionally constipated partner, but his emotionally constipated partner doesn't know how to open up.
Word Count: 1k
CW: depression, anxiety and related pattern behaviors (dissociation, nausea, vomiting, topics hinting at night terrors). Mentions of sex. Hurt/Comfort.
Masterlist 🦊
𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬 𓇬
Simon knows you don't talk.
He knows you avoid facing sore subjects entirely, but only when they involve you.
You're more than comfortable sitting down and listening to him crack his heart open when his past comes back to haunt him.
He doesn't open up often, but at least he does. It's something he knows you've worked hard for—his trust like a finish line you've struggled to reach, persevering until the end, but one you finally touched, even if only with the tips of your toes. It's more than anyone else has ever achieved with him, and Simon couldn't be more grateful for it. And now, it comes naturally, to him, to find solace in your presence.
You'd put your life on pause each time he'd approach you and ask, "Got a moment?"
He's seen you turn off stoves, drop phone calls, ask for breaks when you're working from home. He's seen you turn off the showerhead, leave the bathroom in your robe, fully drenched and with soap still in your hair. Or, sometimes, you'd take his hand, help him undress, and lather his back with suds as he poured his heart out under the pelting water.
You're his gift. People say that you reap what you sow, but Simon begs to differ. He's only ever spilled blood and faced brutality, yet instead of reaping more death, he's found you—the opposite of all he's ever known. And perhaps, he thinks, karma works differently for him, or maybe this is life’s apology, taking the shape of you.
However, he decides to give himself some grace and doesn't dwell on it much, accepting your soft hands and your even softer heart.
But you don't act quite the same.
You don't talk.
He knows why. He's not daft. He sees how you avoid sharing the ugly of your days because you know he's had them even uglier.
Yet he wishes you'd understand that he'd rather drown in your worries than watch you helplessly crush and break under their weight on your own. He doesn't want to force you because he wouldn't want you to do that to him—but as much as you bear his bruises, he wants to bear yours.
So, while he's subtle, he tries.
He watches you fade under a heavy blanket on the sofa, with the pretense that you're watching the telly. But he knows you aren't—your eyes are glassy, looking past the screen, lost in your head. He sits next to your body, your mind elsewhere, and brushes his thumb on your foot. He's there, hovering around, until you blink back to earth and propose to order takeout, saying you're both too tired from work to cook. Even when you haven't gone to work at all.
He hears you throw up after meals (or skip them entirely), when your stomach's too knotted to keep the food down. He brews tea and drops some honey in it, so that it might soothe the ache in your throat.
He feels your leg twitch restlessly under the table until the thing shakes with it. He doesn't bring it up, knowing it would put you on the spot, and keeps eating his soup as if it isn't spilling out of the lip of the bowl. He cleans up afterwards.
He hears your teeth grit at night and the sound sends shivers down his spine. He massages thumb and middle finger at the hinges of your jaw until you stop, so you won't have a splitting headache the next morning.
He hears you mumble in your sleep. Watches you wake up with puffy eyes at the crack of dawn, only to waddle around the kitchen so you can make breakfast for him. He doesn't stop you or force you back to bed, but he stands close and makes sure the eggs won't burn when you'll inevitably space out.
He feels your muscles clench like a vice around his cock when you need something carnal and raw to bring you back to earth. He sees the mist in your eyes when your orgasm shatters your body like an earthquake, as if that release is enough to make you spill, at last, agonizing tears under the guise of pleasure.
He knows when sex is because you love him, and when it's because you hate yourself. He gives it to you all the same, but makes sure to be especially tender when it's the latter.
Until one day he comes back home and finds you curled up on the sofa. Your arms hold your knees in a grip so tight that Simon thinks your bones might shatter. The TV is off; there's no pretense this time.
He doesn't even take off his shoes. He walks to you, kneels before the couch, and holds your face in his hands. It's damp and swollen, and the skin feels raw under his thumbs, so he brushes them over it.
"M'alright," you mumble.
"You aren't." He says. "And it's okay."
Your shoulders shake in a helpless shrug, because you clearly don't know what to do when the roles are reversed. So, he helps.
"Why," he whispers.
"I don't know," you reply.
"'S'alrigh'."
But he knows what it feels like when you don't know. When life appears as all smooth sailing and with no storm in sight. When there's an abundance of love, and health, and money, and friends, and all the fucking pretty package, but the hole is still there.
He wishes he could press his hand on it to stop the bleeding. Wrap you in gauze and sutures. Hand you to the medical team and take out the bullet. He can't; it's not the field—it's worse.
He cradles you in his arms, expecting you to pull back, but you don't. Instead, you hold onto him and grip his olive drab shirt into fists that make your knuckles crack. Your knees tuck under his arms, and your legs wrap around his middle with urgency, as if he might let go if you dared to move any slower.
He holds you carefully tight as you break apart, hoping his arms will manage, somehow, to glue the pieces of you back together—keep you whole, like you've done with him all this time.
He nestles the back of your head in his palm and allows you to hide in the crook of his neck.
You weep on his shoulder, and he lets you. Your lips quiver against his skin, and he soaks up the pain. Your sobs crack his eardrums, and he ensures your breathing stays steady, even through the searing agony.
Your tears stain the cotton of his shirt—they're just drops, but to Simon, they feel like a waterfall, like he could drown. And he will. He'll dive deep until he can catch you and bring your head above water again.
"M'sorry," you croak in his neck.
"Don't be."
"It's stupid."
"It never is, love."
He kisses your temple.
"It never is."
#simon ghost riley#cod#simon riley#simon riley x reader#call of duty#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#drabble#cod fluff#cod angst#ao3 fanfic#call of duty fanfic
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Part 13: The Coworker
part 12 | series masterlist | ao3 link
jason todd x f!reader
summary: a strange holding pattern develops where nothing really happens and all you can do is bury yourself in work while jason keeps hiding things from you
tags: angst, reference to off screen violence
rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k
a/n: more of a set up chapter before the next big plotty thing happens. umm don't throw tomatoes at me?
Jason Todd is lying to you. Or at the very least he’s keeping things – important things – from you. Knowing that, being unable to close your eyes and turn the other way anymore, it fractures you a little more in ways you had thought you were long past. Still, stupidly, you love him. You keep waiting for the day when it gets easier to breath and your stomach stops swooping anytime Jason Todd is in sight. Hope rises and falls. His kindness mixed with cruelty burns but you can’t stop drinking it down as though you’ve been days in the desert.
In some ways, not being around Jason and the friends you share is easier, not having to wonder with every stilted interaction what there is left to hold you together. Much easier then, to bury yourself in work, in school. Lose yourself to distractions until the fear and paranoia dogging your every step fade into the background with the hum of routine and the mindless chattering of people who don’t know you well enough to hurt you with their well meaning questions.
It feels silly to plan for your future when it might very well come to an end in an alley, but the thought of a next month, a next year, a next moment keeps you clinging to sanity like a life preserver. So you put your head down and work, fingers crossed that all your effort will pay off with the summer research position currently being dangled over the heads of all the English department interns. A stepping stone, maybe, to being able to work your way through grad school that certainly no one else but you and your student loan from Gotham Trust will be paying for. For 15 hours a week you can tune out the present, get lost in the daydreams and the work of building that future which rests just hazily out of your reach, beyond the taint of murderers creeping in the dark and a love that seeps like poison.
Something close to regret always passes over you when the work day ends and Jason stands at the door waiting for you. Maybe even something ugly, a twisted up anger, jagged and sharp, that buries itself under your breastbone. Your life is held together with duct tape and sticky glue, balanced precariously on one wobbly leg, but no matter what happens to you, Jason will be fine as always. In a few months he’ll have his degree and a family that apparently doesn’t hate him as much as he’s implied and he’ll go swanning back off to wherever the fuck he mysteriously appeared from. After graduation, who’s to say that you’ll stay friends at all? That he won’t move on with his life and maybe, occasionally, he’ll think fondly of the girl he was friends with for less than a year while he’s off saving the world, saving the Alley, from yet another idiot villain. The future is yours, shining and pristine, but yours alone. A shining knife that’s lodged itself in your chest and twists in anticipation of the moment when he’ll let you go.
You don’t let any of those thoughts show on your face though. Don’t want to ruin any of the dwindling moments you have left and so you bury it down inside, pack the soil down on top hard and cross your fingers that it won’t grow any poisonous fruit.
The first time you stay late, you’re apologetic when you ask Jason to come back in a few hours but there’s none of the usual claustrophobic sensation. Jaimie had asked for help and you had volunteered to give it to her, any excuse not to go home and sit in your tiny apartment and flinch at the wind outside. It’s the first time you stay late but not the last.
Really you had never intended to be so distant from the other research interns but when all the seniors are competing really for the same opportunity, one that would make or break your future plans, it’s not hard to see everyone else as competition. People to be polite and helpful to, but not people to get close to in the eventuality that they break your heart by getting the position or you break theirs. But in searching for more and more reasons to stay distracted, to prolong the moment just before you see Jason again, before you fall into his arms again begging for scraps, it’s hard not to get to know them better.
There’s sweet Jaimie with her bottle thick glasses who only started this semester, Amira with her nearly magical knowledge of the library’s cataloguing systems, and Louisa whose German accent only comes through when she gets annoyed. Stoic Miguel that never really says much but doesn’t have to in order to get his point across and Ian whose charm has even crabby Dr. Duvall smiling broadly. They’re friends, all of them, or at least on friendly terms. It’s hard not to thaw towards them when suddenly you’re making a point to spend so much time with them.
Probably, you should be on your guard. Probably, you should listen to the paranoia whispering at the back of your mind about strangers and hidden motives. But with all the lights turned on in the tucked away office for interns, the space heater warming the old bricks and mild laughter and offers of help freely given, it feels safe in a way. That this space makes them safe even if you couldn’t name their birthdays at gunpoint (you really hope you’ll never have to do that). Here you can leave all of your messy emotions at the door, all the bagging and sleepless nights forgotten in the face of people that don’t know you.
Three weeks and never once does Jason complain about the hours stretching later and later. He never mentions how your feet seem to trudge slower and slower to him where he waits at the door. How the lightness seems to leave you as you hit the cold night air. Three weeks until his patience hits its limit.
“Seems like you’ve been working more than last semester,” he drops leadingly into conversation one morning as he rolls out of the side of your bed he’s claimed for himself.
“Seems like it,” you reply as you struggle to get your bra hooked on right. He comes up behind and does the clasp for you, hovers like he wants something more he’s not sure he’ll be allowed in the bright light of day.
“I just worry about you, yeah? Don’t want you to work yourself sick with— with everythin’ else goin’ on.”
“Well don’t,” you tell him, harsh words that drip with your frustration as you dig through your drawers for a sweater. Dannika and Lina have already been on your case about all your overtime hours, not to mention Rei’s quiet concern. “Don’t worry about this, okay” You say more gently, turning back to him as you tug the sweater over your head. “Work’s the one place where I don’t have to deal with—” you gesture expansively “—all of this.” Quickly you register the way his eyes go blank and shuttered. “With the fear, I mean. No time for serial killers when I’m trying to collate lists of possible sources for Dr. Higuchi’s next book.” He nods, and then doesn’t bring it up again.
It’s a Tuesday, so it’s only you, Amira, and Miguel working. The office is quiet without Jaimie’s constant questions and Ian’s little asides but its a cosy kind of quiet. Slowly the quality of the light changes as the sun creeps below the skyline and eventually you have to admit that there’s nothing more to keep you there for the day. You pack up simultaneously, Amira bumping your elbow with her overstuffed satchel as she swings it onto her shoulder.
“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t ding you too hard did I?” She apologizes. It was a pretty solid hit, the several hardcovers in her bag as good as bricks but she didn’t mean anything by it and so you don’t take it personally.
“No harm done,” you let her know, shouldering your own bag as you do.
“Any plans for tonight?” Amira asks.
“Just tackling some readings for class, nothing interesting,” you reply with the conspiratorial tiredness that all students have by this time of the year.
“Hmmm okay, what about Thursday?”
“Thursday? Why?” You ask, a tightness to your spine. She’s never asked, none of them have ever asked before. There’s been the usual how was your weekends and have a good nights but never anything this direct.
“Well most of us sneak into the grad student bar on Thursday for their trivia night and you need five people for a team only Louisa’s got that paper due Friday and probably won’t come. So, if you’re free, would you want to join us?”
“I— uhm I’d have to check?” You tell her, suddenly panicked because this wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. Yes, you’d been getting on with your coworkers better but you hadn’t thought that you’d been getting on well enough to be invited to their plans outside of work. And yes, technically a Thursday should be fine, should be safe, no one’s gone missing on a Thursday. But to meet? Outside of the office, outside of the place you’d neatly marked as ‘safe’ with people that you barely know? “When does it— when does it usually end?” You ask instead. “Just with everything going on I usually have a friend—” the word catches in your throat “—walk me home at night.”
“Hmmm like eleven or so?” She cocks her head. “I’m so sorry I didn’t even think of that. It’s so scary and I don’t even look like a potential victim.” Amira smiles at you pityingly and you can already feel the sympathy curdling in your stomach. “You know what, why don’t you bring them along? The teams only have to be a minimum of five but they can go all the way up to ten.”
“I’ll see if he’s free but I’ll let you know?” It’s pathetic at how easily just the thought of Jason’s presence makes you breath easier, feel more up to accepting what’s probably a genuine invitation. Amira happily gives you a number to contact and you part ways. Jason’s waiting, like always but it takes you a while to figure out exactly how to phrase your request to take up his time with something so trivial.
“I got invited out by my coworkers today,” you tell him, staring out the bus window as you speak. He’s folded himself into the aisle seat beside you, something you’d snorted about earlier and muttered about a clown car until he’d scowled from swallowing his laughter.
“Do I know any of them?” He asks, grumbling as he tries to find a position kinder to his knees.
“Maybe I introduced you to Jaimie?” You rack your brains thinking back. “Anyway, the point is they invited me to trivia night with them and when I was worried about making you wait for so long to walk me home they invited you too,” you say in a rush.
“When?” He cranes his neck to check the next stop as he asks.
“Thursday, ends around 11.”
He sighs through his nose. “If it was any other day I’d say no problem, yeah? But I’ve got a thing.”
“A thing,” you deadpan.
“Yeah, a thing,” he evades. The two of you get off at the stop, the bus kicking up dirty slush in its wake.
“You should go, have a good time,” Jason tells you in front of your building. “I’ll make sure to be there at 11 and I’ll still make sure you get home. But you should have some fun, yeah?”
He’s hiding something again, isn’t he?
It’s silly to be so distracted by a maybe but you can’t stop thinking about it. You miss a very obvious trick question on the publication of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, though Ian smiles very kindly when he changes the original date you had written to the date the book was first published under the author’s real name. Even without doing anything at all Jason still manages to knock you off balance. You don’t regret it, coming out with your coworkers, even if the bar starts to get more rowdy as the night goes on. That sense of safety, of oh these people won’t hurt me, isn’t restricted just to the office it would seem. Miguel still doesn’t speak very much but he smiles more and Jaimie is strikingly confident when she isn’t wrestling with spreadsheets. It’s almost, almost enough to distract you from thoughts of Jason by the time the evening is wrapping up.
You’re laughing freely at a sly joke from Amira you wish Dannika was there to hear too when you finally spot him. He’s leaning against the wall outside the building, phone still cupped to his ear when you run up to him, the snow muffling the sound of your foot steps. Even in the low lighting of the bar’s neon sign he still looks beautiful and you’re loath to disturb the moment. He’s just ending the call as you get closer, fat snowflakes catching in your hair.
“...yeah, yeah love you too Barbie.”
Oh.
a/n: on the other line, barbara's threatening to castrate jason for making dick sad
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#jason todd fanfiction#ydcmb (uibyt) series#sunnie writes 🌻
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hi! It's my first time making a request for the X-men fandom I've been reading some of your headcanons and I have like them a lot Could you make some X-men HCs with their non-mutant partner (the reader) getting kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization? (for all of the characters?) a mix of both angst and fluff
X-Men x Non-Mutant!Reader
You get kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization
Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Erik Lehnsherr, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Wade Wilson, Rogue & Wanda Maximoff
Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine
- When Logan finds out you’ve been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, he goes into an immediate rage. His animal instincts take over as he tracks down the people responsible. There's nothing in the world he wouldn’t do to get you back safely, and the X-Men know better than to stand in his way when he’s like this.
- Every second you’re gone eats at him. He can’t sleep or even think straight, pushing himself to the limit. He keeps replaying moments with you in his mind, from the way you always reach for his hand in public to the laughter you share at quiet dinners. It’s a constant reminder of how much he stands to lose.
- When he finally finds where you’re being held, Logan’s unrelenting. He tears through guards and security, claws flashing, with only one thing on his mind: getting to you. No matter the odds, he’s unstoppable, determined to leave a trail of destruction in his wake until he has you safe in his arms again.
- The moment he sees you, injured but alive, he’s by your side instantly, gently pulling you close, despite the blood and rage coursing through him. Logan’s touch is careful, almost tender, as if afraid of hurting you further. For a moment, he lets himself feel relieved, breathing you in to remind himself you’re real and alive.
- In the aftermath, Logan can’t leave your side. He stays close, his hand always on you in some way, whether he’s holding yours or resting a protective arm around your shoulders. His eyes are intense, watching over you with a fierce protectiveness that only eases slightly as he feels you start to recover.
- Once you’re safe and back at the mansion, Logan’s softer side starts to show through. He cooks you meals, often in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, his silent way of caring for you. There’s a gentleness to him that surprises even him, and he realizes just how deeply he cares about you.
- Logan blames himself, though he doesn’t say it out loud. He’s never been good at keeping the people he loves safe, and he worries about putting you in danger just by being with you. But when you reach for his hand and tell him you wouldn’t have it any other way, he can’t help but hold on tightly, grateful to have you in his life.
Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit
- Remy’s heart practically stops when he finds out you’ve been taken. His mind races, and for a moment, he struggles to keep his calm, charming façade. The usually smooth-talking Gambit is left speechless, but his eyes harden with determination. He knows he’ll stop at nothing to bring you back.
- Throughout the mission, Remy is uncharacteristically quiet, his playful attitude replaced with a laser focus. His mind is entirely on you, and he blames himself for not protecting you better. In his heart, he’s already planning all the ways he’ll make it up to you once you’re safe.
- When he finally reaches you, his relief is palpable. He immediately reaches for you, running his hands over you to check for injuries, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. His voice shakes slightly as he promises he’ll get you out of there, his usually confident tone softened by the intensity of his emotions.
- Remy is incredibly gentle as he helps you back, supporting you every step of the way. He keeps glancing over at you, his eyes full of worry and guilt. He keeps telling you he’s sorry, though you reassure him that none of this is his fault. But Remy, ever the charmer, makes it his mission to make up for this, showering you with affection at every turn.
- Once back home, Remy dotes on you constantly. He brings you your favorite foods, even sneaking into the kitchen late at night to make you Cajun dishes his family taught him, hoping the taste will bring you comfort. His touches are gentle, hands lingering on you as if grounding himself through the feel of your skin.
- Remy won’t leave your side, and he’ll often stay up all night, making sure you’re okay. He’s vigilant, watching over you with a protective gaze. He even pulls out his deck of cards, showing off little magic tricks to make you smile, doing anything he can to help you forget the ordeal.
- The whole experience leaves Remy feeling even more attached to you. He confesses that you mean more to him than he can put into words, his usual bravado softened. He holds you close, his forehead resting against yours as he murmurs how grateful he is to have you back, promising to never let anyone take you from him again.
Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler
- Kurt’s heart sinks when he hears the news. Fear isn’t something he’s accustomed to feeling, but the thought of you in danger fills him with a dread he can’t shake. He clings to his faith, praying silently as he prepares to go to whatever lengths necessary to bring you back safely.
- As he tracks down your location, Kurt can’t help but feel guilty. He worries that by being with him, he’s put you in harm’s way. But with every prayer he whispers, he also promises to do whatever it takes to get you back, even if it means facing his deepest fears.
- When he finally sees you, his relief is overwhelming. In an instant, he’s teleporting to your side, wrapping his arms around you tightly. Kurt’s hands shake slightly as he holds you, his usually calm demeanor slipping as he whispers reassurances, his accent thick with emotion as he promises to take you away from this place.
- Kurt is incredibly gentle as he helps you, teleporting you away in small increments to avoid straining himself too much. Each time he holds you close, he’s filled with gratitude that you’re still alive. He kisses your forehead softly, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.
- Once you’re back at the mansion, Kurt doesn’t stray far from your side. He stays up with you at night, sitting by your bedside and holding your hand, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles as he quietly hums soothing lullabies, hoping to comfort you as you rest.
- Kurt is more affectionate than usual, often hugging you tightly, as if afraid you might disappear again. He’ll sit with you in the quiet of the mansion chapel, where he finds peace, hoping that his faith might offer you some comfort as well. He whispers promises to keep you safe, speaking softly into the stillness.
- This ordeal deepens Kurt’s love for you, and he makes it clear how much you mean to him. He’ll often cup your face in his hands, looking into your eyes with a gaze full of warmth and adoration. He thanks you for your bravery and your resilience, assuring you that he’ll always be there to protect you, no matter the cost.
Scott Summers aka. Cyclops
- When Scott learns that you, his non-mutant partner, have been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, it’s like the ground disappears beneath him. The composed leader the X-Men look up to feels his own world shattering. He struggles to focus, feeling a heavy weight of guilt, wondering if your association with him made you a target.
- From the moment he’s aware of your capture, Scott dedicates himself to getting you back. He spends hours researching the organization, analyzing their tactics, and coordinating with the team. Every plan he makes is meticulous, fueled by his desperation to have you back in his arms. His love for you drives him, pushing aside any other mission or priority.
- When he finally infiltrates the compound where you’re being held, Scott is relentless. His normally strategic, controlled demeanor is edged with raw emotion as he navigates through, using his optic blasts without hesitation. As he gets closer, he can feel his restraint slipping, each blast growing stronger, propelled by his anger and fear.
- The moment he sees you, bruised but alive, Scott feels a rush of relief mixed with overwhelming guilt. He gathers you into his arms, holding you so tightly, afraid to let go. His voice cracks slightly as he apologizes, promising over and over that he’ll make sure you’re safe from now on, his hand never leaving yours as he leads you out.
- Back at the mansion, Scott becomes the ultimate caregiver, doing everything in his power to help you recover. He stays close, bringing you water, your favorite snacks, and even some books he thinks might distract you. Scott finds comfort in taking care of you; it’s his way of showing how much he loves you, though he’s hesitant to say it outright.
- Scott can’t shake the guilt, though, and you notice him working even longer hours, studying tactics to prevent anything like this from happening again. He’s distant, and you have to remind him that none of this was his fault. He eventually opens up, admitting his fears of failing to protect you, and you reassure him, letting him know that you feel safe with him.
- Despite the angst, Scott finds a deeper appreciation for your presence. He tells you more frequently now how much you mean to him, his normally composed demeanor softening every time he’s with you. There’s a tenderness in the way he reaches for your hand or lingers in a kiss, grateful every day that you’re still here with him.
Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto
- When Erik discovers you’ve been captured by an anti-mutant organization, he feels a rage he hasn’t known in years. His anger is ferocious, laced with an icy resolve. To him, this is personal; he’s already seen the damage that prejudice can cause, and now it’s directly affected someone he loves.
- Determined to bring you back, Erik moves swiftly and decisively. He doesn’t hesitate to use every resource at his disposal, mobilizing his network and even enlisting some of the more ruthless members of the Brotherhood. He’s willing to cross any line to ensure your safety, and nothing will stand in his way.
- When Erik finally reaches the facility where you’re being held, he’s a force of nature. The metal in the walls bends and twists at his command, his powers fueled by an unrelenting determination. His rage is terrifying, and even the guards tremble as he storms through, focused entirely on finding you.
- When he sees you, injured but alive, Erik’s hardened expression softens in an instant. He holds you carefully, as though you’re the most precious thing in the world. In that moment, his fury fades, replaced by relief and a fierce protectiveness. He gently cups your face, promising that you’ll never be put in harm’s way again.
- Erik doesn’t let you out of his sight afterward. Back at his base, he’s uncharacteristically attentive, bringing you blankets and encouraging you to rest. He’s not one for excessive words, but his actions speak volumes, and you feel his care in the way he tends to you, his usually steely demeanor softened.
- As the days go by, Erik’s protective nature only grows stronger. He becomes even more vigilant, determined to prevent anything like this from happening again. He checks in with you frequently, offering you quiet moments together where he lets his guard down, allowing you to see the softer side he shows to few.
- This ordeal brings Erik closer to you than ever before. He openly admits his love for you, something he doesn’t take lightly. When he holds you, there’s a sense of finality, as though he’s decided that you’re his, and he’ll do anything to protect you. There’s a renewed tenderness in his gaze, and his touch lingers a little longer, a reminder of just how much you mean to him.
Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix
- When Jean learns that you’ve been kidnapped, she’s shaken to her core. Despite her powers, she feels helpless, unable to sense you through the mental blocks the anti-mutant group has put up. Her fear and frustration build, and she can’t help but blame herself, wondering if she could’ve somehow prevented this.
- From the moment she hears of your capture, Jean is relentless in her efforts to find you. She spends hours meditating, trying to extend her telepathic reach, even risking pushing herself to her limits. Her determination is unwavering; you’re her world, and she’s not going to let anyone take you from her.
- When Jean finally breaks through the barriers shielding you, she immediately teleports to the location with the team, her powers radiating a barely contained fury. She moves through the building with a fierce grace, using her telekinesis to shield and protect while dismantling any threat in her way.
- The moment she reaches you, she rushes to your side, a look of pure relief on her face. She cups your cheeks, her hands trembling slightly as she checks you over, her eyes brimming with tears. In that instant, Jean’s fierce façade slips, replaced by an overwhelming tenderness as she pulls you into a tight embrace, whispering how grateful she is to have you back.
- Back at the mansion, Jean takes care of you with a level of attentiveness that leaves no room for protest. She insists on making sure you’re comfortable, her gentle voice and calming presence reassuring you that you’re safe now. She’s almost overly protective, always close by, as if afraid you might disappear again.
- Jean opens up to you about her fears, admitting how deeply the experience affected her. She confesses that she’d been terrified of losing you, and her vulnerability brings the two of you closer than ever. She holds your hand often, her telepathic touch conveying the depths of her love for you, making sure you feel her presence even when words aren’t enough.
- In the days that follow, Jean’s love for you becomes even more evident. She’s more affectionate, often resting her head on your shoulder or pulling you close in quiet moments. Her telepathy allows her to sense even the smallest flicker of discomfort or fear, and she’s there to soothe you instantly, determined to protect you and keep you safe, no matter what.
Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool
- When Wade finds out you’ve been kidnapped by an anti-mutant organization, his usual joking manner disappears in an instant. A new side of Wade emerges—cold, calculating, and singularly focused. He’s furious at the idea of anyone hurting you, and his rage is far more intense than even he expected.
- Wade wastes no time in tracking down every possible lead. He calls in favors, shakes down every contact he has, and leaves no stone unturned. His sarcastic quips turn into harsh threats, and he’s fully prepared to leave a trail of destruction to get to you. Even his friends are wary of him in this state, but Wade doesn’t care. All he cares about is bringing you back safely.
- When he finally finds the facility where you’re held, Wade becomes unstoppable. Guns, swords, explosives—he uses everything he’s got, tearing through the compound with deadly efficiency. His mind is filled with thoughts of you, his adrenaline heightened by worry and anger. This time, he’s not holding back.
- The moment Wade reaches you, his facade cracks. He rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms, his heart racing as he checks you over for injuries. You can tell he’s trying to joke to ease the tension, but his voice shakes slightly. He gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, muttering something about how you “better not leave him again” because he’d miss you too much.
- Back at home, Wade becomes surprisingly tender, even clingy. He makes it his mission to cheer you up and get you to laugh, pulling out every ridiculous antic he can think of. He’ll make you pancakes with your initials in chocolate chips, bring you random stuffed animals, and tell you exaggerated stories just to see you smile.
- Wade is incredibly attentive and protective now, always checking in on you and staying close by. He even starts sleeping next to you more often, “just in case,” though he tries to play it off with his usual sarcasm. You know he’s shaken up by the ordeal, and you catch him watching you with a rare, serious intensity when he thinks you’re not looking.
- The experience strengthens Wade’s love for you, and he becomes more open about his feelings. He might joke and tease, but his words carry a deeper meaning now. He’ll hold your hand, bring you flowers with a smirk, and even tell you how much you mean to him in quiet moments, all while hoping you’ll never have to go through something like that again.
Anna Marie aka. Rogue
- When Rogue learns that you, her non-mutant partner, have been captured by an anti-mutant organization, her heart drops. The normally confident, spirited Rogue is shaken, feeling an overwhelming sense of fear and helplessness. She’s ready to fight, but there’s a part of her that’s terrified at the thought of losing you.
- Rogue wastes no time rallying the team. She pushes herself to her limits, determined to rescue you no matter what it takes. Her usually warm smile disappears, replaced by a fierce determination. Every punch, every fight is fueled by her love for you and her desire to bring you home.
- The moment Rogue finds you, she rushes to your side, her gloved hands reaching out gently. She desperately wants to hold you but hesitates, afraid of hurting you with her powers. Instead, she brushes her fingers lightly against yours, whispering that she’s there for you, relief flooding her voice.
- Once you’re safe back home, Rogue becomes incredibly caring and protective. She’s constantly checking in, making sure you have everything you need. She hates the thought of you ever feeling vulnerable again and becomes fiercely protective, standing by your side whenever she can.
- She can’t help but feel guilty, wondering if your association with her put you in harm’s way. You have to remind her that none of this was her fault, reassuring her with soft words and gentle touches. She’ll rest her head on your shoulder, finding comfort in your presence as you both begin to heal.
- Rogue is extra affectionate now, even though she has to be careful about touching you. She finds little ways to show her love, like slipping a note into your pocket, baking your favorite treats, or leaving small gifts for you to find. Every gesture is her way of reminding you how much she cares, even if she can’t express it physically as much as she’d like.
- The experience deepens Rogue’s love and appreciation for you, and she opens up in a way she hasn’t before. She’ll share stories, her fears, and her dreams, letting you into her heart like never before. You can see the warmth in her eyes whenever she looks at you, her love for you more visible and cherished than ever.
Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch
- When Wanda finds out you’ve been taken by an anti-mutant organization, her initial shock quickly turns to fury. She’s not just upset—she’s ready to unleash every ounce of her power to find you. The fear of losing you makes her powers flare, and she’s determined to get you back, no matter the cost.
- Wanda wastes no time, delving into every magical and practical means she can to locate you. She consults with anyone who might have information, even bending reality itself to catch a glimpse of where you are. Her determination is fierce, and she’s willing to go to any length to save you.
- When Wanda finally locates you, her heart races with relief and worry. She teleports into the facility, her powers swirling around her as she dispatches guards with ease. She’s entirely focused on you, a wave of protective magic enveloping you the second she finds you. She pulls you close, whispering words of comfort, her voice gentle but filled with emotion.
- Back home, Wanda is incredibly attentive, constantly watching over you to make sure you’re safe. She’s softer, quieter, and her worry is clear in the way she keeps checking in. She brews you herbal teas, makes sure you’re comfortable, and fills the space with calming spells to help ease any lingering anxiety.
- Wanda can’t help but feel a pang of guilt, wondering if her powers or status as an Avenger put you at risk. She opens up to you about these feelings, letting you know how deeply she cares and how much she blames herself. You reassure her, letting her know that none of this was her fault and that you feel safe with her.
- She becomes more open about her feelings, often sharing her thoughts, fears, and dreams with you in a way she hasn’t before. Wanda shows her love through little gestures—leaving enchanted flowers by your bedside, lighting up rooms with soft, warm lights, and casting protective wards around you. Her presence becomes a comforting constant, reminding you of how much you mean to her.
- The experience brings you closer, and Wanda becomes even more affectionate, lingering in hugs and holding your hand whenever she can. Her love for you shines brightly, her protective side now stronger than ever. She cherishes every moment with you, thankful that she still has you by her side and determined to protect you at all costs.
#logan howlett x reader#remy lebeau x reader#kurt wagner x reader#erik lehnsherr x reader#scott summers x reader#jean grey x reader#wade wilson x reader#rogue x reader#wanda maximoff x reader#marvel x reader#marvel headcanon#marvel headcanons#marvel imagines#marvel imagine#marvel comics#marvel#x men#x men x reader#x men headcanons#x men headcanon#x men imagines#x men imagine#x men comics#x reader#comics
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queen you know ily but i still want y/n to be bitter and resentful pleeeeaaaaase
One moment you were texting with Kyungsoo, the next you were lying on the floor of the apartment you shared with Yoonsu, ears ringing from how hard he had hit you on the side of your head from behind. You saw his feet appear in front of your face, then he pulled your head up by your hair, making you wince.
Shit. You didn't even hear him coming. He caught you red-handed, then—like you gave a fuck. The blackmail was gone now, there was nothing he could use to threaten you anymore.
He scrolled on your secret phone, reading the messages you exchanged with Detective Do.
"Wow, you're one disloyal bitch. You've been talking to another man behind my back." Yoonsu seethed, letting your hair go.
Your head dropped to the floor, and you could finally move freely again. As you struggled to get your bearings (why the fuck did he hit so hard this time?), Yoonsu sent a reply to Kyungsoo's text and threw the phone out of the window.
You were trying to crawl away from where he was, your head spinning too wildly to let yourself stand back up, making him scoff at the pathetic sight. He followed you closely, actually curious to where you were heading.
You were heading to the kitchen, it seemed.
"Good for you for getting rid of the blackmail, Y/N, but you do know what this means, right?" He sounded off—talking to you like you were an audience member of his own live TV show.
When you could finally stand up again, getting to your knees as you began to stand on your feet, he kicked you in the stomach. Cheap shots and low blows—Cha Yoonsu, how he has fallen so far from his fearsome status. Pathetic and cowardly was all that remained of the man who had been subjugating you through blackmail.
You had to laugh at it—how could you not? Never mind the stabbing pains in your stomach as you gurgled in laughter while writhing in pain on your back.
"Fuck—do you remember when people used to fear you, Yoonsu?" You giggled out.
That earned you a kick to your arm.
"Are you gonna talk about how much of a coward I'm now? Wanna talk about how I have no dignity left?" He hissed, crouching down next to you.
He watched you closely as you sat up.
"You know how to read minds now?" You bit out and that earned you a punch to the face.
He didn't give you a chance to recover, pulling your hair up so your face could face his. He was beyond angry, you could clearly see that, but he had always been angry. This time, he was being reckless with his anger, explosive instead of simmering. You held your cheek, the warmth of your hand easing the pain.
"Well, maybe I am a coward now, but so are you. You have always been a coward, Y/N. Sure, I pushed you to isolate yourself from your people, but it was you who still did it anyway—all because you didn't want those slutty pictures of you to spread. And you wanna make me believe you pushed them away because you were being selfless? Didn't want them to get involved in our mess? No! You were being selfish, Y/N, so stop deluding yourself that you're anything but." He tugged on your hair so your face was pulled closer to his.
Your spunky behavior from just a moment before was wiped out of you. No more gutsy comebacks, no more smart quips. No more being a smartass. When fear surfaced in your eyes, Yoonsu didn't dare to delude himself that you were getting afraid of him—he knew it was actually you fearing what was coming out his mouth.
Because both of you were taking what he was saying as the truth.
"If only you were actually brave enough in confronting your past, accept that it happened to you—but you didn't want to. You wanted to live in a fantasy land where none of it even happened in the first place, all the while whining 'You don't know what I've been through! I don't deserve this! Wah! You hurt my feelings! You don't know that the things you said just hurt me!'—GOD! Those guys were saints for putting up with you." He laughed, patting your cheek.
"You're so selfish, you fled Gangnam after that botched operation to arrest me—because you couldn't stand facing Detective Kim anymore when everyone knew that Junyoung got killed because of you. Because that idiot cared too much for a selfish, cowardly girl like you. He's probably rolling in his grave at your school's abandoned plant nursery, Y/N, because you ABANDONED HIM." You shrieked when Yoonsu began to yell at you, and it annoyed him so much, he slapped you.
"I did your brother a favor for making you isolate yourself from him. He's better off without you. A rising star like him would be better off without a dead weight. I did everyone in your life a great favor. Since you love them so much, you should be grateful to me, you selfish bitch."
He threw your head to the ground, watching you break down in tears. Since you were already in the kitchen, he headed to the counters and took out a knife.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Kyungsoo pressed on the gas, knowing the way to the apartment you shared with Yoonsu like the back of his hand—he's been prowling around the apartment for days now, of course he'd know. He cut off a Ford F150, tuning out the honk directed at him.
"Detective Do!" Taeyong let out, and Kyungsoo pressed on the gas more.
"We're running out of time, Taeyong!"
Geonwoo held his breath when a car suddenly cut him from his right, while Woojin let out a string of curses that would have his own mother petrified if she heard it. Mark and Yuno held on their seatbelts, shocked when the car almost did a break check.
"You both okay?" Woojin asked with a firm tone, Geonwoo still focusing on the road.
"Y-Yeah. What was the guy's problem?" Mark choked out.
"Who fucking knows—but don't mind it too much. We have a big celebration tonight. We're almost there anyway."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
You stared at Yoonsu bleeding out right before you, as you pressed on your own stab wound. It all happened so fast, and you wanted to yell at him, ask him why he so suddenly stabbed himself in the throat after stabbing you in the stomach.
But to watch Yoonsu bleed out while wearing Junyoung's face was a stuff of your nightmares, and Yoonsu was staring straight at you until the light in his eyes was finally snuffed out.
It felt like you were watching Junyoung himself dying in front of you.
You crawled over to his body, taking out his phone. You stared at it for a while, your hands shaking from the shock of the pain. With the amount of blood you were losing—was it gonna make a difference if you called 119 now?
Were you going to die this way?
You dialed Yuno's number, devastated when he didn't pick up after you tried three more times. So you gritted your teeth and started to put in Mark's number instead.
If you were going to die, you at least wanted to talk with your loved ones before you...go. You put the phone to your ear, tears dripping down your face, like the blood that dripped down your wound.
"Listen, Jaehyun's gonna sue you if you—" You hear Mark's heated voice, and you realise that since you were calling him using Yoonsu's phone, it was an unknown number to them. They probably assumed you were one of Jaehyun's stalkers.
"Minhyung." You slurred out.
Mark on the other end of the line froze in his steps, standing stupidly near the truck as the others were already entering the café. He pulled the phone away, but it still displayed the unknown number. Why were you calling through an unknown number? He then realised you had called him 'Minhyung' instead of 'Mark'.
"Y/N, why are you calling through this number?" Mark sighed, pinching on his temples.
"Can't find my phone. Is Yuno with you?" You slurred on your words, staring out the windows, feeling weaker by the moment. It made it sound like you were drunk, and Mark seethed at your inebriated state.
"Are you drunk? At 7 PM? Seriously?"
"Please just give the phone to Yuno, I—"
"No. If you really want to talk to him, you'd come here. No one's gonna lock you and your Junyoung out the doors, Y/N. Just show up, for fuck's sake." Mark held himself back from raising his voice, and that's when he noticed Haechan was beckoning for him to get inside the café already through the windows.
Mark held up a hand, then pointed at the phone, mouthing your name. Haechan rolled his eyes when he understood Mark was on call with you, and left him alone.
"I can't come, Minhyung, but I...I still want to congratulate him. Just please—"
"No, I don't wanna do that, Y/N! Jaehyun wants you to show up, not hear you drunkenly give out a half-assed congratulations through the phone. You'd just make him sad at his own party. If that's all, goodbye."
He dropped the call, turning off his phone and shoving it into his pocket before getting into the café.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Kyungsoo kicked on the door, but it didn't budge, so he rammed at it instead. It resulted in him falling into the apartment face first, but he got to brace the fall with his knees and hands—so he didn't faceplant into the floor this time, thank you very much. When he raised his head, he saw the blood trail in the kitchen area.
Taeyong saw it from the front entrance and he beat his partner to it as he raced into the kitchen. He felt his breath getting stuck in his throat when he saw the two bodies on the tiled kitchen floor, blood everywhere. He went straight to you while Kyungsoo from behind him went to Yoonsu as Taeyong was already checking for your pulse.
Taeyong felt your pulses, it was there, but it was weak. He took out his walkie talkie and immediately called for the ambulance.
As you were getting wheeled into the ambulance with Kyungsoo by your side, Taeyong got into the car, determined that he would be the one to inform the people you wrote out in your list. He opened his jacket, and—the list wasn't there. Feeling himself panic, he began to search the whole car, as Kyungsoo was already getting into the ambulance.
The list was gone.
The list was gone.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
You woke up to the sound of the heart monitor beeping, and you turned your head to the side to see Kyungsoo getting up from his seat to look at you more closely. You were wearing an oxygen mask and you pulled it to the side.
"Taeyong, get the doctor! Shit—keep the mask on kid. The bastard stabbed you through your lung. Do you—do you wanna say something?"
You nodded, placing the mask pressed against your cheek.
"Have you reached the people on my list?"
Kyungsoo felt his heart constrict at your question. Dumbass Taeyong—he lost the list. And even when they did retrieve your brother's address and contact information, he neither picked up his phone nor was he at the condo. He was currently unreachable—and so was your dad.
He shook his head, regret marring his expression.
"I'm sorry, Y/N, but we lost your list. If you could—"
"Good."
Kyungsoo snapped his head at you, eyebrows furrowed.
"What?"
"I said good. I don't want them to be here, and I don't want you to try and reach them anymore. I'd rather be alone right now, so I would appreciate it if you kept it this way."
Kyungsoo was just about to ask you what you meant by that, but that's when Taeyong came in with the doctor and nurses. They pushed the detectives away as they checked on you, and Kyungsoo finally noticed just how empty you looked.
You looked utterly defeated.
A/N : since y'all wanted to see Y/N be bitter so much, here you go then 😒
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First of all thank you SO MUCH for being a safe space to be critical of the new arcane season. I wanted to love it. I really really did. But there’s just too much I can’t look past. It’s nice to have a blog I can scroll through where everyone is in a similar boat.
The more I think about it the more I take issue with the concept behind episode 7. Don’t get me wrong from a stand-alone perspective it’s the best episode in the new season and had my favorite moments. But the more I think about the more it feels…icky. I’m absolutely not opposed to seeing a well adjusted Powder I love Jinx and her tragedy is the hardest hitting part of the show for me. That said, season 1 gave me the impression that powder was always going to grow up “bad” due to the circumstances she was born into.
Even from the beginning, we see she experiences psychosis, and likely other unnamed mental conditions (I resonate most with the idea of her having bpd.) OBLIGATORY mental illness OBVIOUSLY does not make you a bad person—I deal with a lot of them myself—but Powder was growing up in a situation where the world was against her. She was in a triggering environment that exacerbated her mental health issues. In my opinion, Powder’s tragedy was about how the situation she was born into took a vulnerable young girl, chewed her up, and spit her out as a “monster.”
Then we get episode 7 where… everything is ok?? Don’t get me started on the peace between zaun and piltover its ridiculous and that’s all been said. The scenes on the bridge especially irk me WHY are people so freely traveling between the two cities what happened to the classism WHERE IS THE SOCIOECONOMIC INEQUALITY??
To return to Powder, I get what they were going for. I do. I personally have OCD that only flares up when my mental health is bad and is mostly unnoticeable otherwise. I get that one episode isn’t much time to explore things, but I take issue that after LOSING HER SISTER powder would just? Be okay??? Well adjusted?? Maybe I’m biased. One of my favorite things about Jinx are her struggles with mental health—it hits close to home. It hurts to see Arcane mostly drop that in the second season. Does au!Powder have psychosis episodes? Does she ever hallucinate Vi? What about her abandonment issues? It feels so cheap to me to say actually if Powder had never accidentally blown up her family she would have been completely healthy and fine actually—her path to becoming Jinx always always had a societal problem at the root of it.
And maybe you’ll say well powder has a better support system so of course she’s doing fine and I can almost accept that… except for the apparent peace between piltover and zaun?? ARCANE WHERE IS THE SOCIOECONOMIC INEQUALITY YOU CANNOT TELL ME YOU FORGOT? She’s not facing the same kind of discrimination and hardship that main universe Jinx experienced and that made her story so compelling. Now again, one episode isn’t much to explore and perhaps she has issues bubbling under the surface, but it feels strange to completely drop that part of her character in favor of everyone is happy and fine and alive (except vi fuck you vi).
Tldr; Jinx’s story stood out to me as a tragedy about how a bad environment can exacerbate already present mental health issues. She was ALWAYS doomed—she did not have the kind of support and care she needed. Jinx’s problem was never that ooooooog trauma (and silco’s parenting) made her evil. Jinx’s problem is that the world simply doesn’t give a fuck about her and throws her to the wolves. You can remove the trauma from the Powder, but you can’t ever forget that she’s living on the underside of Piltover’s boot.
I can see what they were going for with well-adjusted powder and don’t get me wrong I LOVED her she was so cute. But in combination with some of the other uhhh decisions this season made it just feels like a cop out. Her issues with mental health are nonexistent and yay piltover doesn’t hate poor people anymore, isnt that great? If I could change even one thing I’d give her a little psychosis episode in the scene where Ekko questions her about VI’s death—tying her back to Jinx and causing Ekko to break down the boundaries even more between his mental schema of Powder vs Jinx.
Also don’t even get me started on how I’ve seen some people in the fandom respond. I’ve already seen “awwww ekko should’ve gotten to keep sane!jinx” which. HELLO???
Np~ I am glad to share people's thoughts with the world!! It's nice to read similar thoughts and opinions to your own.
Yeah T.T I enjoyed the p so much, but it was still riddled with the same issues that plagued the rest of the season. The largest is definitely the fact that none of the kids had proper childhoods because the system they live under doesn't allow them peace. You are so right on Powder's episodes - when Ekko started pressuring her and she told him to get out before she does something she'll regret, I legit thought we were about to witness one. She had the body language and the tone of someone who IS about to go off, but then she... Just didn't... Add to that the unrealistic economic situation, which I've already ranted about, and you remove the two unshakeable factors which contributed to Jinx' downfall. Once again the writers are forgetting that the characters didn't start having issues in s1e1, but were suffering long before the show started.
The point of the episode is sort of Dynasties and Dystopia 2: Electric Boogaloo, in that it's dedicated to Ekko's mental separation between Powder and Jinx breaking down. But where in the first instance the breaking came from a really organic place - him realizing mid-battle she remembers their childhood friendship as well as he does - this time it's much simpler. Like. Of COURSE he would start caring for her again if he met her under the most perfect circumstances, where loving her is super duper easy. Letting Powder exhibit her "Jinx"ish tendencies more often would have been a much more interesting situation. I did appreciate the ones she'd had - creating a Vi doll, treating her like she's still alive - but it could have gone even further imo.
As for those saying he should have gotten to keep her as Powder... No what. The point of the episode was that the Powder he'd met made him miss the Jinx he'd known. He wasn't tempted to stay in the perfect world (akhem Heimerdinger akhem) because none of those people could understand him. It's the reason he trusted Vi despite her suspicious return to the Undercity - he can't help but feel connected to those who went through the same trauma he had back then. And that's my fav aspect of why he still cares about Jinx - for the longest time, the two of them were the only survivors of THEIR Undercity. She chose Silco, but she was still the only one who could understand his pain, even across enemy lines. I missed this in s2, too. He said he'd given up on the Undercity becoming a better place, which is bs, he absolutely never did. The only thing he'd given up was her!! SO the speech really should have been about that, and the alienation he'd felt.
In short, I don't really think the episode should have had a "perfect" AU to show Ekko a lesson. It would have been much more interesting to keep it realistic. But oh well, I suppose that's just the chorus of s2
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I can explain! I have to start by defining "anti-ship", because that term actually came first. Basically, a while ago, probably close to 10 years now, people started getting sorta hostile over ships that "squicked" them. Basically, people on here mostly, and other fandom sites too, would start listing "Anti-" before specific ship names, to show that they were hostile to people who shipped them. They would do this in tags (often to make sure it didn't appear in the shippers tags, actually) or in bio, to let shippers know they would go after you and even post callouts if you liked the ship they were against. Sometimes it was more like a Do Not Interact, but generally it got pretty bad. They also self-identified as "antis" or "anti-[ShipName]".
So in response to the increasingly hostile and harassing behaviour of people who were "anti-ship", other people started putting "anti-anti" in their bio. Basically, "If you are against other ships to the point of identifying as an 'anti', then I am against you, and the concept of BEING an anti. Basically I don't care what anyone ships, you can interact with me safely." "Anti-Anti" was just an "I won't hurt you over fiction" sign on peoples blogs and accounts. More of a safety signal to others. However Anti-anti was also very confusing as a term, tbh, and slowly over time, people were like... "Hmm, well the opposite of being anti-something is being pro-something, so lets start using the term 'Pro-ship' instead."
Since then, the terms have gotten muddied. Antis became less of "I hate THIS PARTICULAR ship" and more "I hate people who like this group of specific fictional taboo tropes or kinks". Proshippers became less of "I don't care what you ship" and became more of a "Censorship is bad, and I stand for anti-harassment, pro-kink, and sex-positivity" vibe. Also Proshippers have a "Don't Like; Don't Read" and "Ship and Let Ship" mentality. These were older fandom terms that were summarized by curating your reading and interaction to what you yourself are comfortable with. Blocking and muting, reading tags properly, and using the back button on your browser are considered the best ways of avoiding the fictional "squicky" stuff that grosses you out.
Antis also began heavily attacking the proshippers as a whole, even to the point of lying about what it means. Antis made up a lie that the "pro" in proship stands for "problematic", as a way of making them seem evil and gross. Antis started calling SPECIFIC PAIRINGS "proships" which actually doesn't make any sense. Antis also lie and tell ppl "proshippers ship any pairing that would be illegal in real life" when the actual ships have NOTHING to do with the term "proship".
Many people who are proship have literally the same ships as antis, and are squicked out by taboo kinks... they just don't believe in attacking people over it, cause it's just fiction.
Recently a group of antis who think "proship means problematic" ALSO made up the term "proship neutral" which actually is the original definition of proship, ie. "don't care what ppl ship".
You can find reciepts and history on Fanlore's article here
As well as these information cards by Tikli
This question was sent to our inbox. If you’d like for us to post a This or That poll for you, send the 2 things you want to see against each other to our inbox and we’ll let the people decide which one they prefer. Everything will be anonymous.
#proship#proship vs anti#Sage wades into the wank#will I regret this?#I just want to tell people the true history because i watched it all happen#I can't stand when people lie or say wrong things and don't even look it up
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911 season 8B opening idea...
Buck helps Eddie pack up his stuff. They pack boxes, put away the kitchen supplies, the Playstation, the photos. And you can see they're both hurting. After the last box is closed, only the furniture still stands. "That's for the moving company," Eddie says and it's the first words we hear in the one minute packing montage.
They sit down on the couch and look ahead at the black TV screen. You see their reflections in it.
"I'm gonna - gonna miss that couch," Buck mutters.
"I'm gonna -" Eddie stops. He brings his hand up to his chest and clenches his jaw. Takes a deep breath to fight down the upcoming anxiety attack. "I'm gonna miss your lasagna."
The silence is heavy. Somewhere in the background, a clock is ticking. The phone rings.
They hear about Maddie.
----
In the hospital, Buck waits outside Maddie's room. Eddie's next to him, a deja-vu of the horrible day when Chim was attacked and Maddie abducted.
"I hate that you're leaving," Buck says. "But I get it. You don't wanna miss out and you gotta make sure he's safe. I get it. You're all he's got."
And Eddie just looks at him, but Buck is staring straight ahead and doesn't see the tears in Eddie's eyes.
----
"I gotta go or I'll miss my flight."
"I can drive you."
"It's okay. Stay with Maddie."
They hug.
"Just - just call me when you get there, okay?"
Eddie nods, chin still resting on Buck's shoulder.
----
Buck sits on the left of Maddie's bed, Chim's on the right, and Maddie exchanges one look with her husband and takes Buck's hand.
"How are you holding up Evan?"
"Don't worry about me."
"But I do. We do."
Buck sighs and rubs his face. It's all a bit much all at once. People keep leaving him. And he can't change it. He couldn't reach Tommy. He didn't try to change Eddie's mind. All he can ever do is watch as they go.
He shows her all the messages he sent to Tommy, marked as read.
"What if the universe is trying to tell me I'm just meant to stay alone?"
Maddie looks at Chim again, then back at Buck.
"That's not your fate. Evan, I know you. You never give up. If you have someone worth fighting for, you do that. You fight."
"You know," Chim adds, "a man barely wiser than yourself once told me that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. So if you love him, tell him."
----
"Listen, I know you don't wanna hear it but I - I hate this. I just want - I don't know. God, I don't know what I want but I know it's not this. Please, just - just call me back."
---
Buck is in his car, speeding down the street way too fast considering the heavy rain. He sees sirens in the distance and a traffic jam sign. He gets closer. There's a car right at the exit of the highway. It's flipped onto the back, the driver must have hit the brakes too hard and lost control.
Buck passes the scene. He turns his head, trying to recognize any of the firefighters huddled around the car. That's when his eyes catch the scratch at the door of the overturned vehicle. He remembers the day it got there.
He slams the brakes.
----
Inside the car, a phone is lying with a cracked screen. A firefighter takes it.
"Hurry up!" someone yells.
"Someone get me a tourniquet!" another one shouts.
The unnamed firefighter looks down onto the phone screen. The screen is frozen.
1 voice mail from: Buck
----
"Sir, you cannot be here."
"No. No, I - I gotta - I gotta be there."
He points his shaky finger at the ambulance.
"Do you know that man?"
Buck can't speak.
Not far away, the sign for LAX stands tall above the highway. It would have been just one more exit.
----
The house is South Bedford Street is vacant and silent. The old clock is still on the wall, but it stands still. But there's still a light on in the living room. The only thing it illuminates is a couch.
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