#asked for help so shit would just not get done

[krirebr]

More Than This 8

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~9.5k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and en dashes, the slooowest burn, family drama - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Ohhhhhhhh boy. Getting this update in right under the six month wire. I'm so sorry this one took so long, you guys. I had to drag this chapter out of me. But uh, it's horrifically long, so that's something?

And, I know I keep saying that we're about to start a happier part of this story and then deliver a bucketful of angst, and yeah, whoops, I've done that again. I should just stop making promises, huh?

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who has spent the last almost six months talking this one through with me. And to @bigtreefest who was so great with the encouragement and gut checks and did a quick beta of this chapter! But, of course, all mistakes are my own.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too! As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

The rest of the day was quiet. Calmer, more settled than you were used to. After having gotten everything out into the open, it was so much easier to acknowledge Ransom’s presence, to coexist with him. You hadn’t fully realized how much you’d been holding your breath until you could suddenly breathe freely. It was a wild feeling.

Once you were all cried out, Ransom turned on the TV, turning it to the classic movie channel. That was how you learned he loved old movies. “Grandad and I used to watch them together. When I was a kid,” he said quietly. He didn't volunteer any other information and you didn't ask. But you watched the old noir with him.

One movie turned into two and soon the whole afternoon was gone. It had been… comfortable, in a way you’d never expected to be with him. Neither of you had said much, but the silence hadn’t been stifling in the way it’d been even just the day before. For the first time since you’d gotten here, you felt something a lot like hope.

He made two arrangements while sitting with you on the couch. The first was for movers to come to collect his gym equipment the next day so that your new room would be empty when your things arrived in a couple of days. 

You were made aware of the second when you received a text from him. You looked up in confusion. You were sitting right next to each other. He chuckled lightly. “That’s the number to your new car service. Call it, let them know where you’re going, and a car should be here within half an hour.”

You stared at the number. Holy shit, you’d be able to go places. You felt silly for how emotional you suddenly felt, but it was like your entire world was expanding in real time. It felt like fresh oxygen in your lungs. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

He just nodded in response. “After you’ve used that for a while, we can talk about whether a private driver might be more appropriate. If that’s what you need.”

You looked at your phone again. This was proof in your hands that you could tell Ransom what you needed and he would do what he could to help you get it. That he wasn’t the enemy you’d assumed he was. You could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes and you took a deep breath to try to quell them without calling attention to your state.

Ransom, of course, noticed anyway. “Is that not ok?” he asked quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it’s perfect. Seriously, thank you. I’m sorry, I just–” You had no idea what to say to him, how to explain yourself. As good and necessary as the last several hours had been, he was still a stranger. And as much as he’d demonstrated a willingness to help you, that didn’t mean he wanted you getting your messy emotions all over him. “Sorry,” you said again, “I’m just emotional today. Hormones probably. I’m afraid you’re going to be dealing with this for the next nine months.” You grimaced in what you hoped was a playful manner as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes.

He remained serious, concerned. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his tone still so soft. But if you looked very carefully, you thought that you might be able to see a hint of panic in his eyes. You didn’t know if it was for the havoc that your pregnancy hormones might wreak or everything that would come after. You didn’t ask. You knew you wouldn’t be able to answer the question for yourself either. So you turned back to the movie.  

At some point, you both started to get hungry, so Ransom ordered takeout. As you ate, you asked a few questions about the sorts of movies he liked, grateful for a safe topic to fill the silence. You certainly wouldn’t call him verbose, but you learned that he had a soft spot for Billy Wilder movies. You wouldn’t really say the conversation flowed, either, but your questions didn’t seem unwelcome. It was nice. He was starting to feel like a real person.

When you were done, you cleaned up the leftovers together, packing them up and putting them away in the fridge. It was while you were doing that that the doorbell suddenly rang. You both looked up, confused. “If that’s fucking Linda, I swear…” Ransom grumbled.

“She never rings the doorbell when it’s just me here,” you griped. You continued putting things away, sticking your head in the fridge as Ransom went to get the door. Then everything happened so fast.

First, you heard Lola yipping excitedly. As you started to turn around to see what was going on with her, Ransom asked “What are you doing here?!” And then–

And then Ransom was on the ground, clutching his jaw, and Steve was looming over him, his hand still in a fist.

“What the shit?!” Ransom ground out.

Steve’s eyes flitted around wildly until they landed on you. He sighed in relief, clearly doing a quick check as he looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone so much gentler than his posture.

“Am I– What– What are you doing here? I don't–” You felt like you couldn’t process anything that was happening. How was he here?? Your gaze caught on your husband, still on the floor. “Oh my god, Ransom!” You dropped to your knees next to him. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I–” he started, then carefully flexed his jaw, “Fucking shit. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Your hand hovered uselessly between you as he slowly stood up. You turned back to Steve, who had stepped fully into the house, closing the door behind him, and now had Lola in his arms, softly greeting her as she snuggled into him adoringly.

“Steve, what are you–” you started but then you saw the suitcase at his feet. “Are you staying here?!”

Steve finally turned his attention away from Lola. “Yup,” he said, popping the ‘p’ obnoxiously, with a challenging glare to Ransom. 

You sighed helplessly. “There’s no guest room…”

“Yeah,” Ransom grumbled as he rifled through the freezer until he pulled out an icepack, “as thrilled as we are to see you, we do have hotels here. You might be more comfortable in one.” The icy coldness that filled the room wasn’t just from the open freezer. 

Steve took an aggressive step forward. “And leave you alone with my sister for even one more day? I don’t think so. I’ll be just fine on the couch. I’m easy like that.”

“Steve–” you tried but you were quickly interrupted.

“Really? You’re here for your step-sister? That’s interesting because my understanding is that you haven’t had much time for her lately,” Ransom said snidely.

Steve started to puff up in a way that was much too familiar from the playground fights of your childhood. “Oh my god!” you yelled. “Stop! Both of you!” You briefly put your head in your hands and took a deep breath, then one more. You straightened yourself and tried to deal with one of the fifteen problems at hand. “Ok, I, uh, I guess I’ll see about making up the couch,” you said, then stomped your way upstairs to the linen closet.

Steve followed close behind you, still carrying around Lola. “You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “you haven’t actually said ‘hello’ to me yet.”

“No,” you growled, as you looked through the closet without turning around to look at him, “I guess I haven’t.”

He pulled your arm lightly. “Hey, come on,” he said. “I’ll help pull this stuff together if you tell me where to look. We both know Ransom’s just gonna let you do all the work.”

That earned you finally turning to face him. “Well, he did just get punched in the face, so I think he’s a little more concerned with that than making you feel comfortable right now.”

Steve’s face scrunched up. “Wait. Are you mad at me?”

“Am I mad at you? Well, let's see. You showed up unannounced and punched my husband in the face. Yeah! I'm a little mad at you!”

“He deserved it,” he growled. 

“How would you know?!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

You sighed. You did not have the energy for this. And where were all the blankets? You remembered the pile currently in the corner of the gym. Right. You turned around and walked down the hall to your makeshift bedroom, Steve still on your heels. As soon as you walked in, he stopped, putting Lola down. “The fuck is this?” he asked, harshly, his hands on his hips. You realized your mistake immediately. His eyes scanned the cushions and blankets set up, the exercise equipment still there, your few possessions strewn about. “Is this where you sleep?”

“No! Just last night.”

“Why did you need to sleep here last night?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

It felt like a trap. If you told him you’d panicked and needed some space, he would ask why. Steve never dropped anything. And you just could not tell him you were pregnant right now. It was the absolute worst time for that. But you didn’t know how else to answer his question. “I just needed a little space.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you. God, you hated being the focus of that look. It was the look he gave you when you scratched his car when you were 16, or when you were 18 and he had to pick you up from a party at 2 AM and wouldn’t tell him what had happened. It was the look you got when you were little and used to steal his paintbrushes so he couldn’t paint and he’d have to hang out with you. You’d hated that look since you were six years old. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He just shook his head for a moment. “You sounded so sad and tired this morning. And I’m just so sick of not being able to see you, not being able to tell what’s wrong.” He took a deep breath. “Not being able to protect you.”

“Steve,” was all you could say at first. Then you couldn’t help yourself anymore. You launched yourself at him and wrapped him in a big hug. He was a fucking idiot. You couldn’t believe he’d punched Ransom. You were so mad about that. But he was your fucking brother and you’d missed him so much.

He hugged you back tightly. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Chipmunk,” he murmured into your hair. 

You stood there, savoring the closeness for as long as you both were able, and then you pulled away and stared down at the mound of blankets and cushions. The big couch downstairs had been pulled apart the night before to give you a place to sleep. That severely limited the options for Steve. You sighed. “I guess it would make the most sense to put you in here.”

“And where would you sleep?” he asked, his tone taking on an aggressive edge, aimed at the man downstairs, you knew.

“I’d go back to the bedroom,” you said, with a put-on casualness like you weren’t aware of the fight that was about to happen.

“Absolutely not,” Steve said firmly.

“Oh my god, Steve! You can’t control where I sleep!” you said, throwing your hands in the air.

“The whole reason I’m here is to make sure you’re ok and that he can’t hurt you! I’m not gonna do something that puts you back in his space!”

“Steve, I don’t need that! He isn’t doing anything!”

“Then why did you text me? Why were you crying?!”

You did not have the energy for the conversation that would answer that question, so all you could do was glare at him, which he answered with a confrontational jut of his chin. The two of you just stood there locked in a staredown until Steve muttered, “What sort of grown man doesn’t have anywhere for guests, anyway?”

“The sort that likes an excuse to stop people from staying at his house,” Ransom said pointedly from the doorway, startling you both. “What exactly do you think I’d do, with you right across the hall? I’ve already gotten a taste of how you solve problems,” he said to Steve, gesturing with the ice pack still held to his face. Then, much softer, to you, he said, “I know you want your own space, but you’re more than welcome to share the bed until your stuff gets here. That’s all I wanted to say.” Then he turned around and walked into his bedroom, Lola scampering behind him, ready for bed.

You stared after him, unable to parse the feelings bubbling up inside you. He’d been so different lately. Or maybe you were just finally looking.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve asking “Your stuff?”

You turned your attention back to him. He was watching you too carefully. “Mhmm,” you hummed, trying to feign nonchalance. “I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here. I’m turning this into my room.” He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask too many questions probably so you cut him off. “It’s been a really long couple of days, Steve. I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

He set his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fight you. Force you to talk to him. But you held your ground, looked him in the eye with a hint of challenge, and eventually he deflated, just a bit. “Yeah, okay,” he relented before he pulled you into another crushing hug. You’d really missed his hugs.

“I am happy to see you,” you whispered.

“Me too, Chip,” he whispered right back. 

After making sure he had everything he needed, you left Steve alone with a quiet “goodnight,” and made your way back to Ransom’s bedroom. He and Lola were already snuggled in bed, snoring softly. You quickly went through your bedtime routine and then joined them, very careful not to wake either of them. After how eventful and emotionally wrought the last few days had been, it didn’t take you long at all to drift off into sleep.

You woke up in the morning pressed up against Ransom, face to face, your feet tangled together, Lola on your legs. You carefully pushed yourself away, watching him warily to see if he roused at all. Thankfully he didn't. You were sure he wouldn't be thrilled with how close you'd both gotten in the night. 

You quietly got up and let yourself out of the bedroom, a now wide-awake Lola at your heels. The door to the gym was open and the room was empty, Steve’s suitcase wide open on the floor next to the nest of cushions and blankets. You didn’t hear anyone moving around downstairs, so he was out on a run, most likely.

You headed down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, then started looking through the fridge for the leftovers from the previous morning. As you were doing that, a creak on the stairs let you know Ransom was joining you. 

“Morning,” he said, voice scratchy from disuse. He went to the coffee maker and just stood in front of it, waiting for the pot to finish.

“Morning,” you said from inside the fridge. You found the leftovers and closed the appliance, finally turning to him with a gasp. You put the food down on the counter and went to Ransom. “Oh my god, your face!” A large bruise in a deep shade of purple took up most of the left side of his face, centered on his jaw and cheekbone. You rushed to his side and without thinking, extended a hand to touch him before you realized what you were doing and pulled back at the last minute, embarrassed. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbled, his attention still fixed on the coffee slowly dripping into the carafe. 

You stared at him for another moment, before you just couldn’t keep your feelings inside anymore. “I’m so sorry,” you said softly.

He finally looked at you at that. “What do you have to be sorry for?” he asked.

So much, you thought to yourself, maybe, probably. But for right now, in this instance, you just shrugged. “He’s my brother,” you said, a little helplessly. 

“Did you tell him to punch me?” he asked as he decided he’d waited long enough and filled his mug.

“What? No!”

“Then there’s nothing to apologize for.” He leaned back against the counter as he sipped his coffee. “Where is your brother?”

“On a run, probably,” you said, now helping yourself to a mug and fixing it up how you liked.

Ransom scoffed. “Of course, he is.” He looked at you carefully for a long moment and you struggled not to squirm under his gaze. “You happy he’s here?”

“Of course!” you said, too quickly. He kept looking at you. “I mean, I didn’t invite him here, so… It was just a surprise. I don’t know. He’s very protective, you know?” Ransom raised an eyebrow and you couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “Right, yeah. He just– Sometimes, he just– he decides what’s right. And then there’s no changing his mind.”

He made a little hum, then nodded and said, “Yeah, I know. I have met him before. But why are you worried about that?”

“Uh, he just, he isn’t always a good listener. And he’s gonna have a lot of questions for me today. I know he will. And I don’t know how I’ll answer any of them without telling him about the– that I’m pregnant.”

“And you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“No, that’s not exactly– I just–” you sighed. “This isn’t what he ever wanted for me.”

Ransom made a small noise of understanding. “You think he’ll be disappointed in you.”

There was no judgment in his tone, but it still made you shrink in on yourself a little. You nodded.

“Listen, it’s no secret that I think he’s a sanctimonious asshole.” You opened your mouth to start defending Steve, but Ransom shook his head. “Let me finish. It’s clear that he loves you. I think you’ll be ok. And if he does give you shit, well, it’ll be just one of a few things he’s done to earn himself a punch.”

“Oh god, Ransom no, please don’t do that.”

He grinned at you. “Nah, I won’t. Some of us have self-control. I know him being here is important to you. I’ll try not to do anything to mess that up.”

You wondered if the warm feelings spreading through you would always be such a surprise. If he would always be such a surprise.

“But,” he continued before he paused to drain his mug. “I am going to try to get out of here before he gets back.”

“This is your house. You don’t need to do that.”

“It’s fine,” he said quietly, “you should have a nice day with your brother.” Then he put his mug in the dishwasher and went back upstairs to get dressed, with you staring after him.

Ransom left and, sure enough, Steve got back a few minutes later. He went straight to the shower and you tried to busy yourself and calm your nerves while you waited for the inevitable conversation.

When he came down, his hair was still wet and he was dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. There was nothing casual about his demeanor though.

“So,” he said, sitting down next to you in the kitchen, “you ready to tell me what’s been going on here?”

You started to get up. “Do you want some breakfast first? We have some pastries left over from yesterday.”

He grabbed your arm and pulled you back down into your chair. “No, I want to know why you've sounded so upset every time I’ve talked to you since the wedding.”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze. You knew him. You knew that he wouldn’t give up until you told him everything. But you also knew how awful his reaction would be and you just weren’t ready to give everything up. “It’s just been a lot of change, you know? Of course, it’s been hard. I’m just… adjusting. It’s been an adjustment period.”

“Adjusting to what, exactly?”

“To marriage! To living in a new place! You know, the obvious.”

“The obvious is why you always sound like you’ve been crying?”

You resisted the urge to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “You know me,” you tried. “I’m emotional.”

“You’re emotional?! Is that what he says to you?” Shit, he was already getting angry and you hadn’t even told him anything yet.

“No! God, Steve. That’s not what I’m saying! I’m just trying to say that it’s been a difficult transition, but I’m starting to feel better about it.”

“And I’m asking you to tell me exactly what about it has been difficult.” 

You wanted to growl. Once he got an idea in his head, he was so fucking intractable. “What’s been difficult about moving across the country to a brand new city and living with a stranger??”

“Yes. Exactly. In detail please.” And then he just stared at you and you wanted to scream. 

“I’ve been a little lonely,” you conceded, hoping a partial truth might satisfy him. “Ransom has to work a lot and it’s been hard to know what to do with my time.” And then, without giving him time to react, you asked. “How about you? How are you? Now that I’m out of the way, is Joseph trying to set up matches for you?” It was a low blow, but you were grasping for any defense you could reach.

“I don't understand why you won't just tell me what's going on.”

“I'm trying! It's just a lot more complicated than you realize and I think that maybe once you're in an arrangement of your own–”

“My marriage won't be anything like this.”

At first, all you could do was gape at him. Then you just sighed. “I don’t think,” you started slowly, “that you can have any idea what a marriage like this is really like until you’re inside of it, Steve.”

He shook his head. “I know what sort of man I am,” he said confidently. “I know how I’ll treat my wife.” And you saw it then, the pity in his eyes, and everything in you bristled.

Sanctimonious. That was the word Ransom had used. You loved your step-brother so much. You’d defend him to the end of the world and back. But he really could be such an asshole sometimes. And seeing him now, like this, you could understand why someone like Ransom might hate him.

“Well,” you said, trying so hard to keep your voice even, “you’ll be lucky then. To have such an easy go of it. I hope you don’t find that it’s harder than it looks. That appearances can be deceiving.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “That’s why I’m asking you to tell me. I don’t understand why you won’t.”

“Because I know you won’t listen! You’ve already decided what’s going on here!”

“Well, it seems pretty obvious! I know you, and I certainly know him. So yeah, when you’re crying every time I talk to you and you send me cryptic texts wishing I was here, yeah, I think I have a pretty good guess about what’s been going on.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you growled a little. Then you sighed. It was inevitable. You knew it. At this point, you just wanted to get it over with. “Ok. Fine. But you have to actually listen to me, ok? Like, to what I’m actually saying. You can’t just jump to conclusions. Okay? I’m serious.”

“Chip, yes, of course. I’ll always listen to you.”

You took a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s been– It’s been really hard here. I’ve been on my own almost the whole time and it’s just been really lonely. You just– you can’t know what it’s like to be married to a stranger. We haven’t known how to talk to each other and I just– It’s been really hard for both of us.” At that, Steve scoffed, but you couldn’t stop now, you had to get this out. “Anyway, um, a few days ago I learned some news, that was–” You paused to try to find the right word. You had no idea how to classify it. It wasn’t upsetting, per se, but what other word was there? “And then Ransom found out and that’s when I texted you. And slept in the gym.”

“What was the news?” Steve asked, gravely. He was looking at you so intently. You really didn’t want to do this, but you knew you had to.

You looked off into the corner of the room, unable to get this out and meet his eyes at the same time. “I’m pregnant,” you said quietly.

Steve stood up so abruptly that you couldn’t help but jump. “I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he actually snarled. You’d never heard his voice do that before.

“Steve, please,” you started, both hands out in a placating manner. “Please, can you calm down so we can talk about this?”

But, of course, he ignored you. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, helplessly. “He’s out. I don’t, I don’t know where.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just clenched his jaw and stood rigidly, his hands on his hips. You could practically see the untapped adrenaline coursing through him.

“Can you please just sit down?” you pleaded. “Just take a deep breath and sit down and we can–”

“I’m going for a run,” he said, curtly, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“But you just got back from one!” you called after him. He wasn’t even dressed for a run. But that apparently didn’t matter. He was gone.

You just sat there for a moment, completely lost, with no idea what to do. Then you got your phone out and texted Ransom.

He knows

Don’t come back for a few hours, I think. He needs time to calm down. I’m sorry.

The checkmark showing he’d seen your message appeared almost immediately, quickly followed by the three dots that showed he was typing, but then those disappeared. A few moments later they came back but quickly disappeared again. No response ever came.

The men from the storage company came to take Ransom’s gym equipment away. You threw yourself into directing them, happy to have a distraction from worrying about where Steve was, what he was feeling. But then they were done, the room was empty, and Steve was still gone.

Ransom got back first. He found you in the former gym, trying to rearrange the couch cushions in the center of the room into something more comfortable. He paused in the doorway, Lola dancing around at his feet. “Where’s Steve?” he asked, as he bent down to pet her.

“He, uh–” you said without looking up, “he went for another run. He wasn’t very happy.”

“Fucking asshole,” Ransom muttered.

You finally looked at him, shaking your head. “No, he just doesn’t handle it well when he doesn’t know how to fix something.”

Ransom looked at you very seriously. “And if he makes that your problem, he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That's not– That's not what happened. That's not what he's doing.”

He stared at you for a long moment, causing you to look away, uncomfortable with the attention. “Okay,” he finally said with the hint of a sigh. “Well, I’ll be downstairs if you want company or…” He trailed off and shrugged, then left the room.

About an hour later, Steve burst back into the house, yelling into his phone. “Well, where the hell did that money go? There’s no reason for him to be that over-budget. I’ve seen the dailies. –No, you get down there and you get that set back under control. –I can’t, I’m not in LA. There was a family emergency. –Yeah, I know Joseph is still there. He isn’t my only family, is he? Listen, just go do your goddamn job.” With that, he hung up his phone forcefully then stomped upstairs without acknowledging you or Ransom where you were seated on the couch.  

You could feel the irritation coming off of Ransom but he didn’t say anything. You were grateful. You had no idea what to make of Steve right now, how to explain him. Or excuse him. The awkward silence was preferable to trying.

Several minutes later, Steve came back down, changed into fresh clothes again. He smiled at you in greeting and if not for the tense set of his shoulders, you would have thought everything was fine. “Hey,” he said, “I just ordered the two of us some food.”

“The two of us?” you asked, looking pointedly at Ransom.

“Oh!” Steve exclaimed and the fucking fake look of surprise on his face made you want to scream. “I didn’t realize he was back. Well, I’m sure it’s fine. It’s his house. He’ll be able to scrounge up something.”

“Steve,” you started. Of all the unbelievably rude– 

Your ramp-up to letting your brother have it was cut short by Ransom’s hand on your wrist. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. He looked tired and sad in a way you hated. He looked annoyed too, beyond belief, but underneath all that, you also saw something pleading in his expression. You remembered what he’d said this morning. He wanted you to have a nice day with your brother. So you swallowed down all of your anger and didn’t say anything. But you cataloged everything so you could have a private conversation with Steve later.

“See,” Steve said with a smug grin, “it’s fine. This will be nice. It’s been too long since we’ve gotten to pig out together. I got all your favorites.”

Despite your protests, Ransom made himself scarce. The food arrived shortly after he disappeared and Steve dished it up like nothing was wrong. You sat and ate with him, even though you weren’t much up for conversation, despite his frequent efforts. He never said anything about the news you’d shared that morning. You tried not to be too hurt by that. 

As you were finishing up, Ransom quietly reappeared, grabbing something to drink from the fridge. Before he could run back upstairs, you stopped him, feeling awful that he must feel so unwelcome in his own home. “Do you want some food?” you asked, gesturing to the copious leftovers. “I could make you a plate.”

Not waiting for Ransom’s response, Steve cut in. “Is that how it works around here?” he asked, not of you but Ransom. “You’ve got her waiting on you on hand and foot?” his voice teeming with anger.

“Steve,” you hissed, trying to stop him, but he didn’t notice.

“I mean, I get it,” he continued, and there was a sharp edge to his voice that made you very nervous, “you must have thought you hit the jackpot, huh? Some sweet, naive little thing who's too young to really be plugged into the right part of the prep school rumor mill. Hasn't heard about the designer drugs, or the girls, or the parties. All the trouble your family's had to bail you out of. That's why they had to look clear on the other coast for an arrangement for you, huh? They had to go that far to find anyone who didn't already know what a piece of shit you are–”

“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS” you shouted, your stool loudly scraping against the hardwood floor as you stood up. It’d barely been there, you’d barely seen it, the flash of deep hurt on Ransom’s face before he’d covered it up, first with a blank mask, then a sneer that threatened to bring everything down. But you wouldn’t let that happen. You were fucking done. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “Can you just stop, Steve?! I’m so tired of this shit!” you yelled at him.

“What?” they said in unison, both men facing you now, surprised.

“Lola!” you called out. “Come on! Steve and I are taking you for a walk!” She came racing down the stairs, and you quickly put on her harness and leash. Then you were out the door, trusting that Steve was behind you.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. You could feel him watching you warily, but you didn’t turn around to look at him. You didn’t think you’d ever been so mad at him in your life. It might’ve been the angriest you’d ever been with anyone. Your hands were shaking. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you finally seethed, stopping so suddenly that he almost ran into you.

“What?” His obliviousness made you even angrier.

You finally turned on him, your face heating up with rage. “You’re such a fucking asshole! You’re fucking everything up!”

He cowed just a bit at your glare but quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?! I came here to help you!”

“Well, you aren’t! I keep telling you that you aren’t but you never fucking listen to me!”

He recoiled a little, and then his eyes went steely. “Really? I never listen to you? I’m the only one who ever listens to you!”

Even if that were true, there was something about the way he said it that really pissed you off. “Fuck you!” you said and charged forward with Lola running to catch up behind you.

A moment later, Steve was on your heels again. “What is going on with you? You’ve been acting off since I got here.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “I’ve been acting off?! I wonder why! You’ve just barged in here like a bull in a china shop, not caring at all about the damage you’re doing!”

“I’m here to help you. I’ve been defending you!”

“Yeah, now! You’re trying to help me, now!”

“What does that mean?”

“Where have you been, Steve? You’ve been MIA the last three months, and now when things might actually get better, now you’re here to ‘defend’ me.”

“Better? This,” he hissed, flinging an arm towards your stomach, “is better?!”

“We had to do it. There was a clause in the contract. You know that!”

He scoffed. ��Yeah, and I'm sure he reminded you of that every chance he got, as he fully took advantage of it.”

If he hadn't already set you off, that would be the thing to do it. “Never! Ok? I was the one who pushed it. I was the one who rushed It. Me. Never him.”

That brought Steve up short. “What? Why would you do that?”

“Because of your aunt!”

For a frustratingly long moment, he just gave you a confused look. Then you finally saw the realization dawn on his face. “Oh. Laura.”

“Yes, Laura! That wasn't going to be me. Not ever.”

“I never would have let that happen!”

The laugh that burst out of you at that was cold, hard. “How?” you asked. “You're always saying shit like that, but what, exactly, would you have done?”

He started to answer, but you cut him off quickly, shaking your head.

“This is my life, Steve. Mine. I’m the one who has to actually live it. I don’t need you judging me for how I choose to survive it.”

“You shouldn't have to just survive it,” he said. His tone had suddenly turned sad. It made you even angrier. 

“I'll be lucky to survive it,” you growled. “You get to just waltz around, forgetting how this world works whenever it's convenient for you. Meanwhile, I have to claw and fight for just the possibility that I might not turn into my mom.” You took a deep breath. “Ransom, at least, can fucking see that. He's stuck in this mess with me, and I think he might actually want to try. You’re not going to ruin that for me just because he insulted you once at a cocktail party or whatever.” You turned on your heels. You were exhausted. You didn't have the energy for any more of this. “I'm going back. You can come if you want. But you better fucking apologize. He didn't deserve that. No matter what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way by you.”

Steve was a few minutes behind you getting back to the house, and he did apologize, although through gritted teeth. The whole time, Ransom’s eyes were on you. 

You declared you were going to bed shortly after. It was too early, but you didn't care. You were done with this day.

As you were changing into your sleep clothes, Ransom quietly let himself into his room. You both looked a little startled by your state of undress. Part of you wanted to cover up. It felt so intimate, changing in front of him. But you knew that was silly. He'd already seen so much more of you. 

He just stood there for a long moment before he finally spoke. “You yelled at him for me.”

“Yeah,” you said. “He deserved it.”

“But he's your brother.” He almost seemed confused. 

The absolutely absurd thought And you're my husband popped into your head unbidden, but thankfully you didn't vocalize it. “That doesn't change the fact that he was wrong.”

Ransom didn’t say anything. Just stood there with a furrowed brow. After too much silence you asked softly, “Did I do something wrong?”

He jolted a little, like he’d been somewhere else, then shook his head. “No, sorry, I just–” He took a breath. “Thank you. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” 

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You suddenly felt so sad for him. But honestly, the only person who’d ever done anything like this for you had been Steve. And you’d seen Ransom’s family. You knew he’d never had a Steve.

Sparing you from having to figure out a response, Ransom took a deep breath, “Listen,” he started, “about the things he said, I–”

You cut him off with a shake of your head. “We don’t need to talk about that right now. Sometime, maybe, but not right now.” Nothing about his past would change things for you now. You’d still be married to him either way. It was better to just focus on the man he was showing himself to be now.

Ransom took a long moment and looked at you carefully. Finally, he asked, “Did you yell at him for yourself too?”

You nodded, then added a quiet, “I did.”

“Good,” he said, then started to turn around. “I’ll try not to wake you when I come to bed. Good night.”

“Good night,” you whispered.

Right before he left the room, he turned back to add one more thing. “I’ve never seen you as naive. Not for a moment in this whole thing.” Then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

You just stood there, in the middle of the room, unable to move for a few minutes. Then you took a deep breath and moved into the bathroom. As you finished getting ready for bed, you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility that maybe you had two people in your corner now.

Your bedroom furniture and other belongings were delivered the next day. The movers set up the heavy furniture and then left everything else to you. As you started to begin unpacking, there was a hesitant knock on the door frame. 

Steve stood just outside your now bedroom, looking far less sure than you were used to. “Would you like some help?” he asked softly. 

“Sure,” you said, with a little shrug, pushing some boxes in his direction.

The two of you mostly worked in silence, only broken by Steve’s occasional questions of where you wanted your things to go. After a while he finally broke, “Dad’s been piling a ton of new stuff on my plate.” You stopped what you were doing and looked at him, listening. “Responsibilities and projects and– He wants me to take on more of being the face of the studio, too, so lots of parties and dinners and stuff. My schedule has been out of control. I’d think he was getting ready to retire if I didn’t actually know him.” He let out a weak chuckle. When you didn’t react, didn’t join him, he put his hands up in defense. “Not an excuse, just–” he shrugged his shoulders a little helplessly and sighed, “just an explanation, I guess.”

“You told me that I could call you any time of day for any reason. That’s what you said. And then I did, and you were nowhere to be found.”

“I know,” he started, “I–”

You shook your head. It was your turn to talk. “I spent months here feeling more alone than I ever have in my life. I’ve had nothing to do, no one to talk to. I was living with someone I thought I needed to be scared of.” You paused, wondering if that would set Steve off, but he just sat there, waiting for you to continue. Like he was really trying to listen this time. “His family’s been so awful to me, his mom especially. And you know my mom's been no help. She just kept telling me to keep him happy, even though I didn't know how. And I didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to me. But I knew the only way I could even start to feel secure here was if we fulfilled every part of the contract. So,” you put your hand on your stomach self-consciously and shook your head. “And the only person I actually wanted to talk to was you, and you wouldn't pick up your fucking phone. It felt like I was just stuck here while you went back to your life and forgot about me.” Tears spilled past your lashes and you hurried to wipe them away.

Steve’s face, which had grown sadder as you'd been talking, completely crumpled. He crawled from his sitting position across the room to you as fast as he could. “Hey, no,” he said emphatically as soon as he was sitting in front of you. “I think about you all the time. I've missed you so much. I've been so worried about you. I know I haven't done a good job showing it. I'm so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn't care. I–” He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, they had the distinct shine of unshed tears. “Talking to you was really hard. I felt like you weren’t actually telling me anything.” Before you even opened your mouth, Steve put up a hand to stop you from saying anything. “I'm not saying any of this was your fault. I know it's all mine. But I just didn’t know how to get you to talk to me. And if you wouldn't tell me what was wrong, then I couldn't fix it. I felt so useless. Every time we talked I felt so fucking useless. And so sometimes,” he paused like he was bracing himself, “sometimes it was kind of a relief to have the excuse of being busy. To have a reason to not call or text you back right away. I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I was always thinking about you. I was always worried about you. But sometimes I just couldn't fucking talk to you.”

It took your breath away, the intense stab of hurt you felt. “I’ve never needed you to be useful,” you gasped out through your tears. “I just need you to be there for me. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I just need you to be there for me.”

“Shit,” he choked out, his voice so thick. “I know.” He moved forward, then paused, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn’t, he lunged for you, wrapping you in his arms. “I know. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.”

You just sat like that, holding each other for several minutes. When you finally pulled apart, Steve blinked his eyes clear and said, “I hope you know that I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” you said softly, and took a deep breath, “and I forgive you for doing it anyway.”

You watched some of the rigidness leave his shoulders. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Neither of you said anything, and there was still this tension in the room. You were so tired of it. You just wanted your brother back. You just wanted any normalcy you could possibly get, so you wiped the tears from your eyes and said, “You're right. I wasn't telling you anything. I think because I was afraid that if I did, you wouldn't listen past the first two words and then do something completely wild, like fly all the way across the country to punch Ransom in the face. Ridiculous, right?”

He just stared at you in shock and then clocked the wry smile on your face. He laughed despite himself, then rolled his eyes and groaned. “You're sure he didn’t deserve it?”

You pulled a small pillow from the box beside you and threw it at him, annoyed as he dodged it easily. “Yes, I’m sure, you asshole!” You scowled at him, but you couldn’t quite keep the corners of your mouth from ticking up. The whole room felt lighter now, easier to breathe in. It was such a relief.

“I can’t believe you actually like him now,” Steve whined, his whole face scrunched up in disgust.

You shrugged. “I still don’t really know him. But I’m going to try to. We both are, I hope. I don’t know, I think maybe we could be friends, eventually.” You shook your head in disbelief. “That’s a best-case scenario I never really imagined.”

Steve looked at you thoughtfully, and with a hint of playfulness, said, “Well. I’m never going to like him.” His eyes got a little more serious. “But I’m really happy, and so relieved, that things are getting better for you.”

“Yeah, me too,” you said softly. Then you both went back to unpacking, conversation ebbing in and out much easier now.

Eventually, you heard him let out a long sigh. You turned to look at him as he carefully pulled something from a box. Oh. It was Mr. Bun Bun, your favorite stuffed animal as a kid. You remembered crying as you packed it away to put into storage, Steve sitting next to you, gently rubbing your back.

He slowly took a few steps to the head of your bed and then reverently placed it against your pillows. He just stared at it for a moment and then looked around at the rest of the room. “Wow,” he said, and he sounded so sad, “I guess you really live here now.”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I've been here for months.”

“Yeah, I know. But I guess,” he shrugged, “I guess it still sort of felt like you'd be back any day. But all your stuff's here now. It just– It feels final.”

You looked around the room as well. It wasn't exactly like your old room in your old apartment but this was the closest thing you'd had to feeling home in months. “Yeah,” you said quietly, not quite sure what to do with these feelings. “I guess it does.”

Steve sat down on your bed and you immediately joined him. He knocked his knee against yours. “I know I keep saying this, but I really do miss you. It’s so weird to not have you in LA anymore. To go to all these parties and not be able to talk to you there. Or to be able to just drop by your apartment when I need to see you. Or when you need to see me.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “That’s why it’s so important for us to actually keep in touch.”

“I know,” he said, seriously. “I’ll be better at it. I promise.”

You hummed in response and grabbed his hand. Now that everything was out in the open, it was such a relief to just be able to enjoy his closeness, without the tension hanging over both of you.

After a few minutes, he took a deep breath and spoke again. “I’m gonna go home tonight.”

“What? Why?”

“You were right. I’m just in the way here. It’s time for me to go.”

“Ok,” you replied, your voice small. You weren’t sure how to feel about that—the last few days had been so hard and so exhausting. But you’d finally gotten your brother back and now he was leaving again? “Are you sure?”

He jostled you with his shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently with a smile. “I’ll be back. And I’ll even let you invite me next time.”

You smiled back. “Advanced notice?” you asked. “How novel!”

Steve grabbed one of your pillows and hit you with it. You collapsed into giggles, feeling lighter than you had for a long time.

You spent the rest of the day with your brother, which warmed your soul even more than you thought you needed. 

You took Lola out for a short walk in the evening, while Steve finished gathering his things before the car would come to pick him up. When you came back in, you found Steve and Ransom locked in a serious conversation. They spoke in hushed tones, leaning across the kitchen island to face each other. There was no yelling. No tensing muscles ready for a fight. All the same, it made you very nervous. 

They both quieted as they noticed your presence. That didn’t help to quell your worry at all. “What’s going on here?” 

Steve gave you his trademarked boyish grin. “Just getting to know my brother-in-law.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously then cast a concerned glance at Ransom, but he waved you off with a reassuring shake of his head. Steve was still grinning at you like everything was fine. He really could be such an asshole. “Sure. OK,” you said, resigned to whatever weird dynamic was happening in front of you. “Are you all ready?”

“Yup,” Steve nodded, gesturing to where his luggage was waiting by the door. “Car should be here any minute.”

You nodded back, trying to ignore the way your chest tightened. He pulled you into a hug quickly. He just held you for a moment before you heard Ransom clear his throat behind you. “I’ll give you two your privacy.”

You pulled away just enough to see Steve look over your shoulder so he could say, “Remember what we talked about.”

You looked over to Ransom who held Steve’s gaze and firmly said, “Yeah, you too,” then went upstairs.

“The fuck was that?” you asked Steve.

“Nothing, just a conversation we needed to have.”

“Steve,” you sighed in exasperation as you separated yourself from him.

He put up his hands in defense. “It’s fine. I’m playing nice. I promise.”

“Sure.”

He took a step back and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s one more thing I need to say to you. I should have done it yesterday when you first–” he shook his head. “My reaction when you told me about the baby was awful, I know that. And I don’t know if ‘congratulations’ is something you want to hear right now, so I just want to say that I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. And I’ll be here for the baby too. OK? I just really needed to say that.”

You searched his face, his eyes for anything that might warn you that his words were empty, but all you found was sincerity. You took a deep breath. “All I need is for you to pick up your phone.”

“I know,” he nodded quickly. “I will.”

You were so torn between the exhaustion and frustration of the last few days and just how much you'd missed your brother. You pulled him into another hug. “You’re such a jerk,” you said with a hint of fondness.

“I know,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

“And I love you so much.”

You felt him exhale, any remaining uneasiness bleeding out of him. “I know. I love you too.”

His phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. “Your car is here,” you said sadly, pulling away.

“Hey, that’s ok. It’s not like they’ll leave without me.”

“No,” you shook your head, “you should go. You don’t want to get home too late.”

“Oh, chipmunk,” he sighed. “Ok, one more,” then hugged you again. “I’m so proud of you.”

You pulled back to look him in the eye. “What for?”

He took a moment to gather his words. Finally, he said, looking you right in the eye, “For being so much stronger than you should have to be.”

You had no idea what to say to that so you walked over to the door, Steve right behind you. 

At the door, he put one hand on his suitcase, and with the other, he grabbed your hand. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

You nodded, searching for something to say. “Uh, thanks for coming.”

That elicited a big hearty laugh from him. “Yeah, sure.” He squeezed your hand. “Take good care of yourself.”

“You too,” you said, opening the door for him.

He gave you a big smile before he walked out the door. You watched the driver take Steve’s suitcase from him and open the back door for Steve to get in. You stayed in the doorway until the car slowly backed down the driveway and turned onto the road. After closing the door, you still stayed where you were, trying to breathe through the flood of emotions overtaking you. You already missed him so much, yet you were so relieved he was gone. What were you supposed to do with that?

You were finally jolted out of your reverie by the sound of Ransom coming down the stairs, the tinkling of Lola’s collar accompanying him. “Steve’s gone?” he asked as he came off the last step. 

When you nodded, you saw the way his shoulders slumped in relief. You held back the apology desperate to crawl out of your mouth. Steve’s actions weren’t your responsibility, you tried so hard to remember. But still, Ransom had lost the comfort of his own home for days. The guilt was there.

He got himself a water out of the fridge and then looked at you carefully. “How are you?”

The reflex to tell him you were fine was strong, but you did your best to resist it and answered honestly. “I don’t really know.”

He smiled a little ruefully. “I have no idea what’s normal for siblings.”

You chuckled lightly. “Neither do I.”

He took several steps towards you and you couldn’t help the way your body swayed in his direction, just a little. “But you’re alright?’

You nodded and said softly, “I will be.”

“Good.” Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the way the fingers on one of his hands drummed against his thigh. “Well. I just wanted to check on you before I went to bed.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, strangely aware of the space between you. “I appreciate it. It was a weird few days, but I think I’m ok. Or I will be.”

“Yeah. Good,” he said again. 

You both just stood there for a moment, the air around you oddly charged, until Lola pawed at your leg. “Right. Well, she needs to go out. So. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, then turned toward the sink as you went outside with Lola.

When you got back in, there was no sign of Ransom, so you led Lola upstairs to your new bedroom. She immediately hopped onto your bed, wagging her tail wildly. As you looked around, all of your things almost as they’d been in your apartment in LA, those feelings you felt while unpacking your things with Steve grew in you even more. You smiled at your little dog. “Yeah, feels almost like home, doesn’t it, Lola?”

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[dwarf-vader-of-middle-earth]

So one thing I noticed, and don't get me wrong, I really dislike the subject matter of cops even if it's a kids' movie, was the movie ads for Supacop.

It was made by the guy who wrote Captain Underpants.

And subtitles are just built into the movie itself. It's not like an optional feature the audience has to ask the theater to turn on or off. Subtitles are just there.

Thing is, the guy who made these works has ADHD. It's put in the bio of every Captain Underpants book, and he says in the bio that he, in school, drew comics to help him focus and learn. This is a form of dual stimulation wherein the person does some kind of other/secondary activity while tending to another in order to focus on that first, primary task.

But in the bio it says the author constantly got in trouble for this. His teachers made him sit in the halls as punishment for drawing in class, hence why you get Captain Underpants being a cruel principal as just a normal guy. It was the author's way of venting how kids seen as "troublesome" are treated unfairly.

Why do I mention this?

Because the author knows how accommodation is a necessity for anyone and everyone. You ask most folks with ADHD, and we'll tell you that nothing is possible unless we accommodate people and make shit accessible universally.

And the Supacop movie ads showed the most descriptive subtitles.

Nothing was abbreviated. You got EVERYTHING listed. The sound effects, the offscreen voices, the idle sounds, the words spoken perfectly aligning with what is said when it's said, and all of it fully correct.

Specifically because, I assume, the creator wanted to accommodate everyone seeing the film so that everyone can enjoy it regardless.

And even someone not HOH or deaf, but just with, say, auditory processing delays? The subtitles help TREMENDOUSLY!!

I know I have such delay, it's obvious and has been for years since I was a kid. And though I love going to the movie theater and often do, it's still a struggle because there are never subtitles, and thus I'll often miss dialogue or spend forever trying to understand a few lines. With my ADHD there are times my mind is racing with thought and I struggle to focus on the plot because seeing action alone isn't enough to stop that.

But with subtitles, not only do I have a much better understanding of what's being said when it's said, but at the same time my eyes are focused as much on the action as the words of those subtitles, basically mimicking dual stimulation, thusly eliminating my constant train of thought which would, otherwise, distract me and limit my comprehension of the plot.

And the fact that the maker of Supacop ensured the subtitles are built into the movie makes it wonderful for this very reason.

They're accurately-done and ensure accessibility for a broad range of folks from those with ADHD to APD to being HOH or deaf, and so many more.

More movies need to follow suit. Sincerely.

I'm not even like deaf or hoh but if you're adding subtitles to something I think you should always transcribe foreign languages too. None of that [Speaks Spanish] shit. You don't need to translate it to english. But you need to at least give the option for a deaf person to read it and understand it themselves. I don't care if it's not important to the plot. I don't care if it's just them saying like Okay or Damn or whatever the fuck. Write it down

[arvlelt]

vi headcannons (nsfw)

requested from @caj-pjeshke - Hi! Can i request some nsfw headcanons for vi? And if some pitfighter!vi could be there that’d be awesome im soooo weak for her

cw - nsfw, oral (r. receiving and vi. receiving), overstimulation, dacryphillia, degrading, praising, fingering, scratching/marking, scissoring, yall alr know.

a/n - ask and u shall receive:) haven’t done headcannons in a while so apologies if it’s kinda vague

don’t even play w it ik she gets down, she DONT play

biggest munch known to man mind

she’s a messy eater

def gives your inner thighs a lil spank if you try to move

loves overstimulating you and watching you trying to get away from her

def enjoys watching you cry from it, but if it ever gets too much she def is a sweetheart and will stop

i see her as a switch, and she’s such a whiny sub if ykwim.

vi whined at the feeling of your clit rubbing so nicely against hers, watching with a gaped mouth as you moved back n forth, back n forth.

“fuck— feels ‘s good,” heading fall back at the feeling of you circling your hips on hers.

the image of your clit on hers in her head too overwhelming as she felt that familiar warmth spreading throughout her body.

her grip on your hips only encouraged you more as she was very weakly thrusting up into you in effort of helping, “doing so good, baby.”

she’s very whiny and sloppy if u get it

however when she’s dominant she’s a soft dom and looovvessss teasing you

likes finger blasting you from the back specially so you just can just take it

your back arched more, hips moving back against her fingers are they teased your entrance. you gave a slight huff with a pout, whining, “viii, stop being mean.”

vi could only give a slight smirk as she traced her finger up your folds up to your clit, circling around it softly and slowly, enjoying the way you gripped the sheets at the sudden sensation.

“aww, poor baby. so mean aren’t i?”

you felt your eyes welling with tears at the sound of her voice, hips thrusting back in attempt to fell her fingers more

loves when you scratch her up, whether that’s from her giving you head or her pounding into you

she’s def all up in ur ear saying nasty ass shit

“look at you, baby. taking that dick so fucking good aren’t you?”

“you hear that baby? you’re so fucking wet.”

she def has different straps for different reasons

idk i see her having like 4 of them LMAOO

vi is overall a sweetheart and loves taking care of you and loves being taken care of as well

LOVESSSS dirty talk

is so vocal, loves letting you know how good you’re doing

she loves aftercare. whether it’s you or her she loves the feeling it gives her when you both take care of each other afterwards.

as for pitfighter!vi

whoo buckle up bc this woman is more aggressive and not as caring as she normally would b

big ol meanie

probably would want you to eat her out more than she would you

def shoves your face in her cunt when she’s abt to finish

very bossy

vi let out a moan, face scrunching up in pleasure at the feeling of your tongue lapping at her clit - your hands were in your lap as vi told you not to touch her as she sat on your face.

“fuckin’ hell, guess that- ha- mouth is good at something else other than- mm, bitching and whining, huh?”

she prefers pounding into you over munching, but she doesn’t hate it

she would usually come back from a fight drunk and fuck you senseless, but if she were to lose she’d have zero mercy.

pitfighter!vi is a big old meanie

definitely degrades you a lot more than praises but maybe if she’s feeling nice that day she is

the noises were downright obscene and vi was sure to get another noise complaint. but that wasn’t her main focus as the squelch sounds of your pussy filled her ears, your moans only fueling her on.

“oooh, gooddd- mm, fuck vi-!”

you squealed at the sudden pleasure, as vi had suddenly grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed them to your chest, pounding even deeper into you.

“what, you like that?” she gave an emphasis of her words as she thrusted harder into you, making your eyes water, “of course you fuckin do, fuckin whore. but you’re my whore aren’t ya?”

all in all she’s a big meanie and probably isn’t that big on aftercare since she’s basically wasted when she comes back home

if you guys are dating she def apologizes in the morning

but if not, don’t be surprised to wake up to an empty bed

[bi-writes]

part 4 of anatomy of us is nowhere near done, but here are some bread crumbs since i've been taking a long time on the final part ;(

You have a three-step plan for making Kate Laswell’s life a living hell of her own making.

One–show enough resistance to her ridiculous pairing of you and her asshole of a SAS lieutenant that she believes you’ll spend the rest of your life with in constant, lukewarm misery.

Check.

Two–give that same SAS lieutenant the dicking-down of his life, so good that no matter what hole he buries himself into later on in life, it’ll never be better than yours.

Half check. He hasn’t had us in heat yet–he doesn’t know just how good it can be.

Three–make Kate Laswell eat shit by taking away the only thing she ever has on anyone. Her leverage. You don’t know much about Kate Laswell and her work, but you do know that she faces no obstacles because of what she has under her belt; four alphas, equally as deadly as their counterpart, who will do anything their commanding officer says, not just John Price, but his handler, too, the perfect, the dedicated, the one and only Kate Laswell. Nobody says no to her, and everyone wants to be friends with her because Kate Laswell gets shit done.

She keeps it quiet. And she does the jobs that no one else will–that no one else can.

What would happen if that very powerful, very skilled, very important little task force didn’t come knocking when she came calling? How fucking hilarious would that be if Kate Laswell had to come to you, hat in hand, and ask you for help?

[chasedeys]

I instantly thought of you when I heard him say “we locked our eyes”, would you like to share your thoughts on that? Please?

hi hello 😭 WHY i mean SURE but WHY 😭 is it because i yap too much on these two oh god you guys I'm so sorry

i fear i don't actually have much to say other than it just being pure joemarr usual bullshit of being so in tune with each other's bullshit that they just 'don't need words' and understand each other so perfectly well that joe can just do the griddy instantly and ja'marr follows suit without pausing and do the celly with him and and laugh at his stupid ass doing that shit so badly in front of so many people when i'm pretty sure joe has refused to do the griddy so many times before 😭😭 though then again this is just the usual scoring-then-team-celly thing lmaooo even if nobody else (but tee in the back from afar!) followed suit but it is special because joe burrow is doing ja'marr chase's trademark celly!! (the idea that people point at ja'marr to do the griddy to his face in various degrees of proficiency is still so funny to me I'm sorry mike gesickis point and griddy is still ingrained in my fucking head 😭 then grants griddy after sacking joe too oughughguh stop)

IT'S LIKE SO CUTE TO ME THOUGH maybe it's just because ja'marr was the closest one running to him and reaching him first so joe looked to him first and joe was all a bit awkward with the ball lmao he was holding it and looking and circling around like what the fuck do i do now with my celly and!! he said he locked eyes!! with ja'marr!!!! for help!!!!!!! ja'marr shrugging at him like 'what do you wanna do now' giving him the spotlight it's your moment what kind of celly do you wanna do i'm right here with you hyping you up no doubt about it and there's ja'marr right there in front of him of course he's going to embarrass the ever living shit out of himself doing the fucking griddy so soooo badly (i remember him doing it in the nfl is post saints game in that tunnel looking towards ja'marr too!!!!! insane. only doing the griddy looking at ja'marr. crazy. and also post afc north wins cigar smoking i think idk but still.) and ja'marr automatically mirrors him falling over himself laughing because oh? joe fucking burrow??? doing the griddy??????

but focusing on the 'locking eyes' aspect it does bring up that they do 'lock eyes' pretty often no? like they find each other across the field to stare at each other and communicate via brain waves or some shit read each others mind through eye contact and face twitches and literally anything else other than verbal words so that's super cute to note! also its soooooooooooo important to me how they BOTH keep mentioning how they keep giving each other looks lmao like at first you'd think only ja'marr being the one to mention him giving joe looks and joe clocking it but no!! joe saying ja'marr gives him looks for him to get him the ball and when ja'marr gets asked about it he gets so?? excited?? like oh! yeah! joe mentioned the looks to you? "i do give him looks i didn't even-" cute cute ANYWAY super into how joe mentioned them locking eyes sorry got ahead of myself 😭

BUT IN ALL HONESTY in this context 'we locked eyes and i just started hitting it' (lmao insane word choice) it's more of a the minute joe looks at ja'marr he knows what he's going to do the griddy because it's ja'marr in his sights. it's not that joe 'reads ja'marr's mind that ja'marr wants him to do the griddy and he's doing it because ja'marr wants him to' it's because oh! that's my guy! my guy who has this cool fucking celly that's his trademark and i've never done it for him and i have literally no fucking idea what to do so you know i should do it now that'll make him laugh lol and boom they're laughing at each other super cutely in this game that took like 10 years off my fucking life

[pixiecaps]

Jorel: I wasn’t meant to spend Christmas alone.

Shanyqua: What?

Nathalia: Yeah? What do you mean, you’re with us? You’re with me?

Shanyqua: Dude, what is happening?

Jorel: I had other plans.

Shanyqua and Nathlia: What was the other plan?

Lila: Who were you going to spend Christmas with before us?

(Matt: I turn the little note like this.)

Jorel: My brother.

Lila: Your brother?

(Matt: I show the note.)

Lila: What does the paper have to do with your brother?

Shanyqua: I’m not understanding.

Jorel: I never rented out this campsite.

Shanyqua: WHAT?

Nathalia: Jorel..?

-

Lila: And where’s your brother?

Jorel: Remember.. that I told you my brother had gone out with-

Nathalia: Yeah.

Jorel: -He had ditched me.

Nathalia: Yeah.

Jorel: Well, he really didn’t come spend Christmas with me. However, he hasn't shown any signs of life since. He disappeared. And messing around on the computer I managed to trace his cellphone. And it showed him here.

Shanyqua: Ohhh, I cannot believe you’ve done this. Dude, I can’t believe that I’ve known you from a movie. Just look at that, your face is familiar. Fucking hell. I can’t believe it. I’m in this SHIT because of YOUR DOING!

Jorel: Yeah.

Nathalia: Jorel.. Jorel.

Shanyqua: Unbelievable. My god, how could I be so stupid?

Jorel: (To Shanyqua) You- Do you have someone that you love a lot?

Shanyqua: I do-

Jorel: Would you do anything for them?

Shanyqua: -But I don’t have anything to do with your life.

Jorel: (Repeating) Would you do anything for them?

Shanyqua: I would.

Jorel: Well.

Lila: But why didn’t you tell us this before?

Shanyqua: Why did you have to involve all of us in this?

Nathalia: Why didn’t you tell me?

Jorel: Because you guys would never- you guys would never come here.

Lila: But we could’ve asked for help before this.

Shanyqua: Exactly, do this the right way.

Nathalia: Did you try to get help from the authorities?

Jorel: I tried. They didn’t give a shit. They said my brother was just enjoying life with his girlfriend and not responding to me.

Nathalia: How long ago?

(Matt: How long?)

(Cellbit: It’s been three days.)

Jorel: Three days. I had very little time to think about what to do. That’s why I was desperate and this was the only plan. And I planned this “Christmas”. (Laughs with irony) For us.

Lila: So that guy you said you spoke to on Whatsapp was all a lie?

Jorel: Yes.

Shanyqua: I can't believe that I'm in this because of... all this... Cause of the delusions of one small rich guy! I know that- Okay, alright, you love your brother very much and blah blah blah. BUT DO YOU NOT THINK ABOUT US?! Fuck. Look at this SHIT! Look what you fucking got us into!

Lila: Shany- Calm down. Right now there's no point in stressing about it either. We’re already in this together-

Shanyqua: There’s no point in stressing-

Lila: We’re already in this together.

Shanyqua: Look at what this kid did!

Lila: No-

Jorel: (Interrupting the bickering) Now we have two options.

Lila: Which?

Jorel: Or you guys stay hating me and throw me out the first opportunity you have to kill me and you’ll go back, if you survive, remembering that you guys were the ones that finished me off. Or you keep this a secret. For the time being. And if we make it out alive... you'll never need money again in your life- Never need to worry about money in your life and you'll never need to look me in the face again.

Shanyqua: I don't care about your money.

[lqveharrington]

Can I request I can do it with a broken heart for a Lucifer (Morningstar) x reader? Ty and congrats! <3

With a Broken Heart | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer's relationship has been strained for years, and Charlie tries to mend your broken hearts.

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem!reader

includes: arguing, cursing, crying, angst, heart break

a/n: luciiiii! it’s been so long 😭 (rules for celebration here!)

Ever since Charlie was born, your relationship with Lucifer had been strained. You both wanted to protect her from all the harm Hell would reign down on your family, but your methods were quite different.

He wanted to make peace with the Heavens — have them back out of their killings once a year. You wanted to hide Charlie from the exterminators until she was able to take care of herself without you or Lucifer. Or until she was able to use her magic properly.

Down to the second Charlie turned eighteen, you and Lucifer continued to argue about what was considered right. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment after a horrible extermination, Lucifer finally snapped at you when Charlie walked in. She never saw her dad yell at you, and you clearly weren't expecting it either because later that night you left Morningstar Manor.

You hadn’t seen Lucifer since, but Charlie refused to lose contact between you and her dad. She tried to get you two to meet up, but no avail. Not until she needed help with the hotel and refused to admit she invited her dad over when you arrived.

“Charlie, you didn’t call your father to join us, right?" You asked and sighed when she puffed her cheeks out. She was a horrible liar and you knew that came from her being born from two angels. “Great.”

“Mom, whatever you and dad had going on should be history by now! It’s been what? Two centuries since you’ve last seen him?” Charlie grabbed your hands and squeezed them, looking back and forth between your eyes. "It'll be okay."

You opened your mouth to retort but she had already walked away to find Vaggie. Bringing a hand up to your temple, you silently cursed that she was so determined to get everything absolutely perfect.

Although you never officially divorced Lucifer, he still left you with a broken heart that he never attempted to mend. He left all your broken pieces for you to deal with — not caring that you had to handle all the sinners’ affairs as well when he decided to go M.I.A.

“Oh sweet sweet queen of hell,” Angel wrapped an arm around your shoulder while the other popped open a drink, taking a quick swig of the alcoholic drink. “I’m sure you can handle whatever shit his majesty will throw at you.”

“It’s not what I can handle.” You murmur and shake your head, spinning the golden ring on your finger before glaring at it once you realize what you were doing. “It’s if he can handle seeing me after ages of leaving me on my own without anything but my own fucking tears.”

Angel’s eyes widened before toasting to that, chugging the rest of his drink down and pulling you toward the couch. Honestly, you were ready to fight for your side again until you saw him. It was like nothing affected him.

When Lucifer burst into the Hotel like he owned the place, you noticed the façade he put on just to see Charlie smile. He was always putting on a face so she would see the best of him. He was in the middle of meeting all the sinners of the hotel when his gaze shifted to you, face paling when he met your glare.

As if you read his mind, you turned away and immersed yourself in whatever Angel Dust was complaining about to Husk. Charlie looked between the both of you, defeat etching across her face. Nothing was ever going to get done if the two of you refused to acknowledge each other the entire time he was staying with them.

She had to fix her parents' relationship — despite the way the both of you avoided each other like a plague.

"Charlie, are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, your mom looked like she was ready to kill your dad the second he stepped into the hotel." Vaggie looked up her, eye brows creased in doubt. She was never one to doubt her girlfriend, but the King and Queen of Hell could easily kill all the sinners within the snap of their fingers if pushed far enough.

"They may be upset with each other but we won't get anything done if they keep walking eggshells around each other!" Charlie rubbed her forehead and began to pace the foyer, eyes glowing red in frustration. "Besides, my dad regrets ever yelling at my mom. She just... She doesn't know it because they're both too stubborn!"

Charlie's horns poked out before settling, steam releasing from her mouth. She waved a hand over the room's door and let the enchantments settle before whisking Vaggie away. "Anyway, we have to try and do this. If we don't, we can say goodbye to the hotel forever."

"Charlie, sweetheart, what are we even looking for? I can barely see anything in here." You huffed and moved cobwebs away from your face, snapping your fingers to produce small flames. When you didn't hear her respond, you turned around only to be met with the eyes of Lucifer Morningstar himself. "Where's Charlie?"

"Wha— Uhm, she shoved me in here and told me to look for something." Lucifer squeaked out and waved his hand around, letting golden whisps illuminate the small space. "I didn't realize you would be in here."

You rolled your eyes and continued to push away old pieces of furniture, doing your best to ignore the tugging in your chest. However, Lucifer couldn't help but stare. You were just as gorgeous as the day you met, and the lights shining across your face only took his breath away.

"Do you know what we're supposed to be— Lucifer!" You frowned and dragged a hand down your face in annoyance, letting the flames go out. "You know what? I can't deal with this right now."

You moved to the door and tried yanking it open, only to jerk backward. You looked back at Lucifer before trying the door again, this time the handle burning your palms. Wincing, you glare at the door and call out for you daughter.

"Charlie Morningstar, you come here and unlock this door!"

"Not until you and dad make up!" She shouted through the thick door, mind forcing herself to be confident. "And don't even try using your magic because I will send you back in there."

"Charlie!" You groan and bang your forehead on the door, shutting your eyes in disappointment.

Lucifer tugged his hat down to cover his face and moved to sit on an old crate behind him. He couldn't face you. Not yet. Not when you refused to even meet his eyes properly. It was like the Heavens purposely wanted to see him suffer.

Finally admitting defeat, you sat on the opposing crate and held your breath. You didn't think seeing him would affect you so much, especially since it had been cartularies since you last saw him. But Lucifer was always full of surprises and you knew Charlie got that trait from him.

You blew out a breath and spun your ring, eyes glued to the wooden floor. "Why did you do it?"

Lucifer peeked past his hat and looked around the room like it wasn't just you and him. He swallowed and shifted his gaze over to you, pursing his lips when he saw your wedding band. He opened his mouth to speak but shut it, not knowing what to say to you.

"Why did never try and stop me from leaving?" You whispered out and watched his body stiffen.

"I..." Lucifer shook his head and buried his face in his hands, voice muffled. "I don't know."

You brows creased and clasped your hands together, wanting to stop your fidgeting. "Lucifer, you promised to keep your family safe and you didn't even try to get me to stay." You stared at his hands, eyes hardening at the sight of his own wedding ring. "I don't understand—"

"Because you were so paranoid that something horrible was going to happen to us!" Lucifer finally burst and stood from his spot, eyes red and face contorted in dissatisfaction. He began to pace the small room and rubbed the back of his neck, voice cracking. "You were so overprotective of Charlie that you wouldn't even let me near her somedays."

"You were handling the Heavens, Luce! Did you think I wanted to keep her away from her own father? I didn't want her dead from the hands of an exterminator." You paused at the thought of your daughter ever dying from the hands of a supposed holy figure. When Lucifer shook his head, you wiped a stray tear and turned away. "You never understood what I was trying to tell you."

"Neither did you." He stopped his walking and stared at you with solemn eyes. He knew you tried your best to protect Charlie, but he wanted to protect more than his daughter. He also wanted to protect you, but you never understood his plans to do so. "Sometimes I think you wanted to pretend this wasn't our reality, but it is."

"Was it my fault Heaven kicked us out?" You bit your bottom lip and finally met his eyes, watching them soften instantly. You tilted your head to the side and frowned, "You told me you'd love me for all time but the second we landed in Hell, our time was cut short wasn't it?"

The look in your eyes broke Lucifer's heart even further. He always hated arguing with you and for the first time in so long, he wanted to freeze time and just hold you.

"You may think I've been perfectly fine without you, but nursing a broken heart absolutely crushes a person." You whisper before standing and walking toward the enchanted door, muttering your own reversal charms.

Lucifer reached out to you before pulling back, his own eyes glossing over. "Angel..."

"After we help Charlie with her hotel, we're done, okay?" You stay by the door and refuse to face him, doing your best to not have your voice waiver in heartache. When you didn't hear a response, you gripped the handle harder. "Luce?"

"Okay." He murmured back and tapped his cane to the ground, vanishing to a different part of the hotel.

You choked on your tears and covered your mouth, letting your heart completely dissolve to nothing. You knew crying wasn't going to help, but you had to try and be productive. Afterall, you were the Queen of Hell.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[thelov3lybookworm]

Comfort Her

Summary: primal instincts and punches

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2003

Warnings: beron being an asshole, Lucien being a tiny bit violent, proofread only once cus im sick😔

A/n: this didnt come out as i wanted it to, but i hope you all still like it. plus, im sick, so im trying to get as much rest as possible, but i did do my best to finish this fic before i go to sleep lol.

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Despite how vehemently they denied it, faeries were assholes. Being an almost four hundred year old fae and an emissary, Lucien knew this.

They would nod their heads and agree with people who talked about faerie equality and how lower faeries deserved more respect, but those same people would turn around and torture the lower fae they took as servants.

Illyrians still were a higher group of fae compared to a lot of others.

But still, they were lower fae.

Lucien could remember vividly how when he was a young male, his father had summoned him to his office and told him to never get involved with a lower fae. Even lying with them for one night was shameful, and Beron liked to think his sons could do better than the filth that was lower fae.

Lucien had been more rebellious than his older brothers, and so he had asked.

What about an Illyrian?

That night, he had gotten fifteen lashes for even having the audacity to bring up a lower fae after his father had explicitly forbidden him from them.

But it seemed to Lucien that he was made to love people who others considered filth. Not Lucien, not ever.

Lucien was the most compassionate out of all his brothers, but being fae, even he had been once disgusted by humans. But then he met Feyre, and he could not care less that she was not a fae, that she was something he should not have even interacted with.

Compared to a human, Illyrians were very easy to love. And so when Lucien found himself in love with an Illyrian woman, he was not surprised. 

It was on a small mission to Illyria that he picked up, having asked Rhys to give him something to do because he was too bored by sitting on his ass all day. It was nothing big. Rhys had taken one look at him, offered him a knowing smile, and then told him he could accompany Cassian to the steppes. He was sure Cassian could use a friendly face while dealing with the pompous lords of Illyrian camps.

And Lucien had been all too eager, feeling confined in the beautiful but isolated city of starlight.

And then he had seen Y/n dragging a shit load of washed, soggy clothes in a too big bucket, and he couldn’t help himself. He had walked over to her while Cassian debated about the chore to training times for females, and had introduced himself to the skeptical gaze of his now beloved wife.

She had been reluctant to talk to him, continuously glancing behind him to make sure no one was watching or they’d punish her for being tardy. Lucien had insisted on carrying the bucket for her, and since that day, Lucien made it known that he would love to accompany Cassian to the steppes everytime he went.

No one, except Cassian, questioned his decisions. The Ilyrian, of course, figured it out just after the first trip.

"Lucien! I need a hand!"

Lucien caught himself grinning down at his tea, blinking, before he lifted his head to look at his mate, who waddled over to him from the kitchen, her lips pursed. "This thing isn’t opening."

She shoved a can of corn in his face, brows furrowed in frustration. Lucien set his cup aside and took the can in his hand, examining it before peeling away the metal covering. He smiled as he handed it back to his mate, to which she pouted.

"I hate this."

He shook his head, chuckling as he stood and pulled her into his arms. "My love, your tea is going to be cold if you don’t come and drink it with me, you know."

She huffed, pulling away from him. "I just have to mix this with the vegetables, and then I’ll be done."

He took the can back from her, pushing her down onto the couch. "Get rest, love. I’ll do it"

"But I want to do it!"

Lucien pecked her forehead. "Y/n, we’ve got to go to the high lords meeting in an hour. You need all the rest you can get before that. Let me do this. Yeah?"

She huffed, but didn’t protest as he placed her tea mug in her hands and walked into the kitchen. It always made him smile, her almost childlike anger that had taken root after she became pregnant. It only got worse as she got closer to birthing his child.

But as soon as the smile had come, it dropped as Lucien thought over his own words.

It was Rhysand’s idea to host a meeting again, this time in moonstone palace to discuss how to proceed after the war with Hybern had wrecked Prythian. Lucien had done his best to object, then tried to get Rhysand to let him and Y/n sit out of it, making the excuse of Y/n being pregnant. But of course, Y/n had insisted it was fine, and now they had to go.

Lucien couldn’t care less about what Beron had to say about him. But he didn’t want to hear anything untoward words aimed at his wife.

He knew if Beron opened his mouth, Lucien was bound to spill his father’s blood.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Beron was close. Lucien knew.

The high lords who had already arrived talked and laughed with Rhysand and the rest of the inner circle. Even Tamlin chatted with Feyre, though he seemed too wound tight for the conversation to be anything but polite. Y/n, too, engaged in conversations with Thesan, and while Lucien stood right next to her, his hand protectively wrapped around her waist, he did not know what the two were talking so enthusiastically about.

Everyone seemed calm. Normal, at ease. And when there was ease, Beron was never too far, the chaos revolving around him eager to disrupt peace.

Lucien was too wound tight to look at anything but the huge doors that were thrown wide open, letting in fresh air.

And then Lucien felt it. A group of people entering the wards. It was a gift he had gotten that he himself barely understood. After all, no one else in his family had such powers.

It wasn’t long before Beron, Eris and Lucien’s mother appeared in the doorway, all their eyes scanning the room. But they all had their own reasons for it.

Beron scanned the room, his eyes shrewd and looking for chaos.

Eris looked for possible exits and assessed threats. And maybe Lucien was seeing things but his eyes halted for a moment on Lucien, too.

And his eyes softened, maybe.

But Lucien’s mother? She only looked for Lucien.

The moment her eyes met his, she relaxed, the small tilt of her lips barely visible. Lucien smiled back too, hoping Beron wasn’t looking. And then he squeezed Y/n’s waist, making her turn to look at him, paused mid sentence.

Thesan had the courtesy to leave and find some other partner to converse with when he realised who had just appeared.

As Lucien smiled down at Y/n, his heart began racing, and he turned her slightly. His eyes fixed on his mother now, he saw the way her eyes filled with tears at seeing his son with his pregnant partner.

She hadn’t been allowed much, Lucien remembered from his time when he still lived in autumn court. The only news she got was heard through court gossip and her ladies in waiting. Or her sons, who didn’t visit her much except Eris and Lucien. So it came as no surprise when she stared at Y/n like she hadn’t known of her son’s mating bond.

It wasn’t long before the meeting started, Lucien figured when the high lords slowly trailed towards the circular seating arrangements in the middle of the huge, mostly open sun room. But he stood still against the wall, his eyes keen on his mother as she slowly made her way closer, alert and cautious, until Beron was finally out of sight.

The moment she was close enough, Lucien let go of Y/n and pulled her into his chest, his own eyes prickling.

"Oh, Lucien. My boy." She sniffled, holding onto her son tight.

Lucien felt like a child again, running up to her after hours of studying with his brothers, smiling up at her as he clung to her lap. She used to smile down at him, combing his hair back from his head, and ask him how his day was. She’d then sit him down and feed him with her hands, making sure he ate every last morsel on the plate.

Not able to take more of the emotional turmoil clawing at his chest, Lucien pulled away, taking a step back and wrapping his arm around Y/n again. His mother pulled her into a quick hug too, before she glanced around.

Beron could come searching any moment.

Sighing, she patted Y/n’s cheek and walked away after kissing her forehead, throwing only a glance at Lucien before disappearing with her husband.

Lucien refused to look away until she vanished from his sight, and then he turned to Y/n.

"Let’s go, love."

She smiled sadly, nodding. "Are you okay, though?"

Lucien nodded, swallowing.

The next hour passed in a blur, with Lucien avoiding his father’s occasional sneer and his brother’s gaze, and trying not to look at his mother too long. Throughout it all, the one constant was his arm around his mate.

Comforting her. Protecting her.

It wasn’t until Rhysand stood, offering the high lords rest and refreshments before the ball at night that Lucien stiffened.

"I think I will pass on the invitation to the ball, Rhysand." Beron smirked, his gaze trailing leisurely to rest on Y/n.

Rhysand straightened, clearing his throat. "If that’s what you wish, Beron. But it would have been nice to have autumn court attend the night court’s revels."

Beron waved his hand, as if pushing away the bothersome words. "I would have loved to join, but you see, I barely tolerated your two illyrian dogs. And now my youngest has also bred a bitch-"

And Lucien was already standing, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"Don’t you fucking dare." His finger was pointed towards his father, the other fist clenched tightly.

Beron smirked. "Did I hit a nerve?"

Y/n took hold of Lucien’s wrist, pulling herself up to stand. "If you don’t shut up, my mate is going to hit more than a nerve on your ugly face, my lord."

How Y/n was so calm, Lucien could not fathom. He could almost feet his veins bulging, ready to burst as he stared at Beron.

Beron only snorted, standing. "You dare talk to me, you filthy low born? One carrying a mutt?"

Y/n let Lucien’s wrist go the moment she felt him moving. She knew not to stop a male drowning in his protective, primal instincts.

It was unlike Lucien to get violent, but he wasn’t interested in being like his own self anyway.

Lucien moved fast, too fast for Beron or even Eris to move. Lucien’s fist made contact with Beron’s cheek, pushing his head to the side. It was a good thing most high lords, except Rhysand and Helion, had departed before Beron began spewing his nonsense, or Lucien would have been labelled as violent.

Lucien couldn’t care less.

He grabbed Beron’s collar, getting all in his disgusting face as Lucien spat. "Not another word, father, or this will be the last meeting you ever attend."

Beron snarled, a muscle popping in his jaw. But he pushed Lucien off, eyes wild. And he walked away, without a word.

Maybe he saw how serious Lucien was about it being his last meeting, after all.

Lucien didn’t stay back either. He took hold of his mate’s hand, and then winnowed her away. The only thoughts in his head were to protect her, to comfort her.

And their baby.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[emo-trash101]

Hiiii! I would absolutely love if you did an arcane women x asthmatic child! Maybe Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, and Ambessa?

Oh yes ofc I would love to do that! I am moving Ambessa over to another ask (from Nina ml 🫶) since there's gonna be multiple parts of these and I'm low-key getting lazy

Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, and Mel x Asthmatic! Child

Pronouns: second person

Tw: SEASON 2 SPOILERS

Jinx (Season 2) -

- She knows what it's like to be abandoned, and to feel like it's more work for you to be taken care of than it's worth.

- I think she knows better than anyone else.

- That's why when she takes you in, it isn't just a simple impulsive act, it was a promise.

- It was a promise to you, to Isha, and most importantly, to herself.

- In general, she enjoyed the company you brought her. You gave her more creative input for her weapons, and gave her a new hobby.

- She suddenly developed a slight addiction to making you new and more colorful masks.

- By the first month you've lived with her she's made you at least 10 more.

- But she's a good mom, even if she can't see it herself very much.

Vi -

- She would honestly probably be one of the few people who sees tiny kid who like can't breathe and is just like, "Oh shit, normal lanes behaviour." And just walk away

- Like she isn't exactly the person to take a kid under her wing, especially cause she has this whole self deprecated mindset of how she isn't good enough for really anything

- But you likely end up following her, considering that it's probably a better choice than suffocating on the cold and dirty ground, and eventually, she just accepts that you're following her

- She brings you surprisingly to Jayce to figure out if one of your face masks can be built, and bro has such a soft spot for kids you get like 10 in one sitting made for you

- She has no specific opinion or worry about your illness, aside from the constant fear of you dying

- Her abandonment issues kick in an oddly large amount when you have coughing fits, and she can't keep herself from worrying if this is gonna be the last time she'll hear them

- But even when she's worrying like that, she tries to focus on just caring for you

- It makes her feel like when she used to take care of Powder

- And it makes her feel like she got a second chance.

Caitlyn (season 1) -

- So when she finds you on the streets during one of your patrols, her bleeding heart causes her to almost immediately leap to action.

- She immediately tells Marcus she's taking a break (whether he wants her to or not) and takes you to the best doctor she can find

- She holds your hand when you get diagnosed

- She may not really know you, but she doesn't really care, she just wants to help people, even if it ends up just being you who she helps

- After that, the doctor gives you your mask and she presumes you'll go on your merry way, doing whatever else it was in Piltover before she basically disrupted your life.

- But even months after she had met you, you both seem to run into each other much more.

- Whether it's you following her while she's on patrols, or just potential coincidence, you both seem to run into each other more and more.

- Eventually this leads to the conversation about where your (lack of) parents are.

- And this is when she decides to take you in.

- Her mother obviously lectures her about taking in stray children, and how hard it is to raise a child, and more

- But after that you basically just became a Kiramman from that day forth.

Mel -

- She never expected to meet you (but then again neither did literally any of the others), but it was especially not gonna be today

- it felt, odd to find a small child alone in Piltover, usually they would be with family, or at least some semblance of a caregiver

- But you were just sitting there, propped up against a wall, coughing your poor little lungs out

- So, regardless of her inhibitions, she takes you to a doctor.

- She feels a twinge of guilt when you receive a diagnosis, like she could've done something to prevent it

- But a part of her feels connected to you

- She knows what it feels like to be cast out from family, to have no one to turn to in your time of need.

- And right now she feels a need to be that rock for you to rest upon

- So you stay with her, after she convinces herself it will only be until she can find you a suitable family.

- She talks to Jayce and Victor about how to handle your illness, the mental and physical support that is required, along with just generally everything

- Before she knows it, she has an adoption certificate for you, and you're officially her child.

- And on that day, she makes a silent promise that she will be better than her mother was

Ik this took forever to come out, I've been low-key kinda mega depresso, but I promise that the final part with the rest of the characters will be coming out soon 🙏🙏🙏

Make sure you eat food and drink water

[anachronismstellar]

@xiaokuer-schmetterling

I can't I really can't because is so far from done and now Binghe and Shen Yuan want to make a big fuss and have extra scenes and aaaaaaaaa

But what I can do is give a little snippet :D

Because makes me feel like I did something and Airplane deserves more love and coffee

Here u go~

---------

Sometimes, while Airplane was butchering his story for money, desperate for the next paycheck, he would stare at the wall in front of him, all the notes of the first version that he had penned down throughout the years. It was bittersweet actually, to write and write and write while his posts its and drawings of what it could have been stared at him from his wall, glaring at him from their makeshift pedestal of what ifs.

Yeah, it sucked. But a beautiful book wouldn't warm his belly or keep him from being thrown out of his apartment, so he didn't hesitate to pick up the knife and carve out the meat of his universe, hollowing his characters in name of the next bowl of noodles.

The one thing, however, that he allowed himself to be proud of was the speed at which he handled his updates, feeding his fans with at least ten thousand words per chapter. It might have lacked substance, or most of the time, plot, but he could type and type fast!

And now, like everything else in his past life, his reason for pride and joy came back to bite him in the ass.

Because why did this word document have an infinite symbol for the number of pages???

“Urgh Cucumber can't find out about this, never,” he grumbled as he scrolled down as fast as he could. It felt like hours but he still was reading about the OG Shen Jiu being an asshole to Binghe!

Ok, time to give up.

“System?”

The little glowing box appeared next to him in a sparkling gold color, so very different from the old dull green that made Airplane squint his eyes at it. He had had no other choice but to accept the upgrade, even though he didn’t trust it one bit. Especially because, uh.

As soon as he had woken up from whatever the update was, his System was… How could he explain it without sounding ungrateful or insane??! But there was no other way to put it, his System was just-

【Greetings, Creator! How can this System be of service? ( ・∀・)】

Too nice.

“Uh. Yea. Hi hello listen, is there a way for me to go to the end of the file without eternally scrolling?”

The little box swirled and in a blink it showed all the commands Airplane could use to speed up his progress. Like it was that easy to be helpful and polite instead of showing him a wall of warnings and cryptic messages that lead to nowhere.

See?? Suspicious!!

He tried a few commands, searching for things they might have discussed during, uh, Linguang-jun's... Negotiation, but after a few minutes of loading screen after loading screen showing up, the System pinged one more time.

【Warning! Warning! Warning! This System has to warn the Creator, jumping immediately to the end might send The Terminal to a Blue Screen of Death! (O_O；)】

Great. Amazing. Perfect.

“Which part is the closest I can get without overloading the processes? Or I don't know- another way to go through this instead of reading?”

The System swirled again, the loading symbol spinning with a good amount of freezing from time to time. He's about to ask the System to cancel the command when the entire room shifts to a white room with his desk in the middle of it, the wall in front of his laptop turning into the biggest screen he had ever seen. Displayed on it, all his files, the amount of documents almost as uncountable as the pages in his book.

“Okay, okay, I can work with this,” and back to scrolling he went. It wasn’t the best solution with the little bar on the right so compressed it seemed to be a line, but it was better than glaring at a wall of text with no end. He had to make pauses from time to time, checking the chapters names or their lack of, rubbing both hands all over his face, knocking his glasses off his nose and- holy shit he had glasses again oh fucking hell-

What was he even doing? He had no time for this, he had to find Mobei-jun, shit he had to find Cucumber-bro and his asshole of a husband that Airplane was so going to throw at the Abyss again for being such an asshole and unfilial son-

“I need coffee. Shit, System can I have coffee? I swear if we survive this I’m gonna find a fucking way to make coffee even if I have to go to the fucking Abyss myself-”

The softest ping! next to his ear made him turn his face to the side before the scent of fresh coffee hit his nose. It had been so many years, what the actual fuck was happening right now, he about to cry because?? That was the smell of fresh coffee?! Shit.

【One black coffee right away! (ﾉ・ヮ・)ﾉ旦

Would you like sugar and milk? 】

Maybe he just died.

Yes. Maybe this was his way of paying for everything his fans went through. Living as Shang Qinghua and having a happy ending wouldn’t be a fitting punishment, right?

What was it like Fullmetal Alchemist or some shit? He had to trade his life for coffee?! That was what the System considered equivalent?!

“How-” He licked his lips, unable to not pick up the mug in front of him, the warmth of it sending shivers down his spine. “How many points for this?”

【The Creator’s System is not based on points! As a Super User status, the Creator has vast liberties with the Universe, although being bound by the laws of the Universe of the story! °˖✧◝(・▿・)◜✧˖°】

He took a sip but he couldn’t swallow because what. What. Was this thing talking about???

WHAT????

“Hold on-” he almost went the Cucumber-bro route from how hard he had choked, but as he was already dead, it didn’t matter, ahahaha, right? RIGHT?? “What do you mean by that?! That doesn’t make any sense?? You telling me what, I can make up shit out of thin air just because?!”

【Not exactly! (・ヮ・)ﾉ As the Creator, you now have the permission to introduce new lore and deepen the story! However, your role as the Creator cannot modify what has already been established as canon by the main plot and the Main System! ( ◡‿◡ )】

---------

:)

God!Shang Qinghua my beloved *dreamy sigh*

It's closer to be done than before but I still have some scenes to go for our dear Author to reach Godly levels!

But is close, I can feel it

the craziness is talking to me is telling me to post the airplane vs the system fic without being finished

I won't do it because still not done but URGH THE TEMPTATION

[lemonsweet]

Adult men will make such a whoop and holler about how bad a chore is and how they need to cuss and complain and thrash around for like a hour to do it (and it's done half assed) only for you to do it later and its like 3 minutes of work and it's over .

[moongothic]

Madoka is the promise you won't turn from a child, full of hopes and dreams and the wish to save the world, into a bitter adult who just wants to hurt others and ruin people's lives

Madoka promised to be there for you to remind you of the person you wanted to be and to stop you from becoming what you sought to destroy

Madoka made that promise and became the very embodiment of it

[graff-aganda]

No no ikr. The ENT fandom is so quiet around here. And honestly I'm just excited to see art of my favourite dudes, because we rarely get fanart around here, and when we do it's usually Trip or T'Pol solely. Malcolm gets left in the dust quite a lot so I'm happy you drew him as well - and so well done too!

Anyway, ramble over, lol.

OMG... Well I think I can see why a lot of fanart is of Trip and/or T'pol (those two seem like they're doing some heavy lifting for the show/are just a lot of people's faves. I've got a few half baked ideas in mind for them myself.) but the rest of the crew as a whole do deserve more love I think! :]

[takeyourdailydoseofcyanide]

asking for help always makes things worse

[goldenpinof]

.

[reamed]

coworker was mean to me today so fun!